HEAVYWEIGHT FISHING RECORDS
by Louis Bignami
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The search for record fish builds harbors, moves fishing boats
from America to Central America and would probably exhaust the
budget of Costa Rica. As often seems the case, Hemingway said it
best with his, "Only the first catch counted, for every
other record may be broken." Why then do fishermen spend so
much time, effort and hard cash in often uncomfortable and
usually inconvenient settings to set records that are almost
always temporary?
After interviewing 40 record holders for a book, Stories
behind Record Fish, it's clear records return what you
bring. Some, like Joey Pallotta, holder of the sturgeon record,
and Kelley Everette, holder of the Pacific Blue Marlin 30 pound
line test record, parley records into careers as skippers. Some,
while compulsive in their quest, treat their records casually. A
few find their records a burden. Maybe it's the Puritan ethic,
but those who set records by intent, rather than by pure luck,
seem to value their accomplishment most.
Of all the records in saltwater, two stand out. Let's look at
these first.
Marron's Marvelous Swordfish
On the morning of May 7, 1953, in the golden era of
billfishing, the Marron's Flying Heart slowly rolled
over a gentle sea off Iquique, Chile. As Mrs. Marron recounted it
in her book, Albacora, "Bosco!" Lou bellowed
at once. Bosco was their term for a huge billfish.
"Everyone aboard jumped into action, and baiting began
before the sound of Lou's shout faded. Lou pulled line off the
big Fin-Nor reel and stood holding the end of the big, trailing
loop in his hand. We waited, breathless.
Swordfish. "Eddie Wall, the veteran of
many swordfish safaris, was our captain that year. He put that
bait right across the albacora's nose. The fish turned away.
Again we maneuvered. This time with a great splash of his mighty
tail, Bosco dove for the bait.
"Wham" - the sword lashed out. Lou was in the chair
now, waiting and watching . . .. A little of the line peeled off,
then a little more, faster and faster.
"Strike! Ahead with the boat," Lou shouted. He had
struck Bosco, the king of kings." Twelve times Lou hauled
the fish to the boat with his heavy 130-pound -- then called 39
thread -- line. A dozen times the giant fish surged away. Then,
as the huge fish reached the boat after its thirteenth run, Eddie
Wall leaned out and grabbed the heavy leader with gloved hands.
The monster thrashed. A gaff sunk home. The legendary monster the
Marron's had sought for years was theirs.
At the dock the fish weighed 1,182-pounds - -the largest game
fish caught anywhere up to that day. Given current depredations of long liners, many experts say it's the unbreakable record!
Thirty-seven Times Test
Zane Grey caught the first "grander," a 1,040 pound
blue marlin off Tahiti back in 1930. The IGFA didn't allow the
catch as sharks bit the fish at the boat, but it took another 22
years to catch another 1,000+ pound "grander".
Blue Marlin. While the current all-tackle
record taken on 130-pound test weighed in at 1,376, the most
astonishing record in saltwater may be Kelley Everette's 1,103
pound catch, which he managed on line 100 pounds lighter. A fish
that's 37 times the line test used to catch it is astonishing!
World Record Certificate.
Kelley, now a professional skipper out of Hawaii's Kona Coast,
took the fish with a live 3-pound skipjack tuna bait just off the
rocky volcanic shores of the Big Island. After the fish popped
the bait, the skipper, Carl Schloderer who ran Kelley's boat on
his day off, backed down for the set. The Everette's boat, the
Northern Lights, a classic 37-foot Merritt, played a big part in
the upcoming struggle. Smaller, more agile boats than used in
most billfishing areas, are usual on sheltered Kona Coast waters.
Add a skilled skipper, a tough deckhand to position the fighting
chair and, hopefully, wire the fish, and a fisherman who combines
endurance with a light touch and some amazing catches result.
As the line came tight, Kelley jammed the lovingly-sharpened
hook home. It took an hour and a half to bring the fish close in.
No pauses, no rests here! Fish recover faster than fishermen, so
you need non-stop effort. As the blue shape neared the boat, then
with a struggle broke away to jump once, twice, three times,
Kelley knew he had a fish that threatened the existing 626 pound
record. After another series of runs, the swivel hit the rod tip
and the deckhands set three gaffs. Two pulled out, but a big gaff
held and they hauled the silver fish through the transom door
before the quick run to harbor and the weigh-station.
The IGFA representative, Phil Parker, had the balance scale
set at the old record, 626 pounds. Like the gathering crowd he'd
heard of the catch on the marine radio. The big blue gradually
lifted off the loading dock. The beam flipped up. Reset at 826 it
flipped again, and again, and again before it finally settled at
1,103 1/2 pounds.
Budget Tigers
Tiger Shark. Not every heavyweight record
requires big bucks, or big boats. Walter Maxwell managed the
tiger shark record without a boat, fighting chair, skipper or
other help. He caught his fish off a Carolina pier. He remembers
the one that got away best. "The big one nearly overlapped
the pier's end," he said. "That's 20 feet long."
"The little one I caught only went 13 1/2 feet and, after
losing an estimated 10 percent of its body weight, weighed in at
1,780 pounds.
While this record may be broken, it won't be broken from a
Carolina pier. After jaws, shore communities barred pier fishing
for sharks on the theory it wouldn't help tourism.
Back in 1964, Maxwell, a very fit bricklayer, noted,
"Shark fishing was big. We could see stripes on tiger sharks
that cruised off the piers. I thought I knew why more fish
weren't caught. Fishermen didn't have the right kind of
gear."
Maxwell geared up with a 16/0 left-handed Penn Senator
purchased at a bargain $135. With a custom rod, 1,300 yards of
130 pound test on the reel and a five pound skate bait on 14/0
Mustad hooks whipped onto a bit less than 30 feet of steel cable,
he was ready.
After losing a huge shark on Saturday when it swam away with
his pier gaff cutting a periscope wake, Maxwell changed his
approach. A couple of 10 foot fish hit on other lines. Then, in
the confusion, Maxwell missed his hit. When he looked up the rod
tip was down. As he ran to the rail in the confusion of crossed
lines and cursing fishermen his fish surged out of the water. As
Maxwell remembers, "My tiger rolled again about 200 yards
from the pier. It sounded like nothing I'd ever heard." A
buddy later reported it looked and sounded like "someone had
dumped two bathtubs into the ocean at once."
Maxwell's shark headed down the beach toward Florida. With
over one half a mile of line out, Maxwell finally stopped the
fish. Line built on the reel, then smoked off. The problem was
leverage; Maxwell needed to get down on the beach. After four
hours and a half, the big shark rolled under the pier. One hook
was bitten off; the other barely held at the corner of the
shark's mouth just off it's gnashing teeth.
The wire leader came into reach, but even Andre the Giant
couldn't wire a shark from a 20 foot high pier. So Maxwell
managed to place his gaff in the shark's mouth. The gaff handle
tore free, but the inch-thick gaff line held. Maxwell jumped down
to the soft sand, hauled his catch into the shore break and
lassoed the shark's head and tail. It took nearly a dozen men on
three ropes to strand the huge fish above the surf. The fish lost
pounds in the long wait for the wrecker's truck arrival. It still
beat the old record by 350 pounds. Fisheries experts agree that,
if weighed when caught, it would have topped a ton.
Great Whites
Great white. Alf Dean's Great White dwarfs
Maxwell's fish, and it's not even the largest Australian shark
caught on rod and reel. But larger fish came on line heavier than
the IGFA maximum 130 pound test or were otherwise disqualified.
Aussies seem at war with the sharks that swarm off swimming
beaches and surfing areas. So Alf Dean's catch got plenty of
publicity back in 1959. At 2,664 pounds it smashed the old record
and was Dean's forth time in succession to have held the
Australian record.
Dean and his boatman, Ken Puckridge, had chummed for hours
without seeing a shark. At about 3:30 in the morning the big
shark bumped their boat. Only careful husbanding of chum kept the
shark interested until first light, about 7 a.m. -- you don't
mess with two ton sharks in the dark.
It only took 50 minutes for the experienced pair to muscle the
shark to the boat. After it was gaffed and tail roped, they
returned to a mob scene at the weighing station. The shark
measured 16 feet, 10 inches and more than nine feet in girth.
Dean took all this attention Australian-style.
As Dean notes, "A good boatman makes a big difference. We
were able to work the fish all the time without much line out.
The fight wasn't that hard. I did worry a bit when the fish
jumped. It's something to see such a big fish slam back into the
water after jumping clear."
Dean's fish did this twice before giving up. It boggles the
mind to imagine what a 2,600 pound fish would do if it slammed
down on the cockpit!
It's astonishing that Dean's record has stood for three
decades. Bigger Great Whites, like the 3,450 pound Montauk
Monster, have come to gaff even though they did not meet IGFA
standards.
Tarpon On Four
Tarpon. You don't need monster fish on
gut-wrenching tackle to set, and enjoy records. While M.
Salazar's 283-pound all-tackle tarpon, and the accounts of the
catch, have disappeared, more recent line test records offer an
interesting challenge. The best of these records may be Bill
Riesenfeld's 108-pound 8-ounce tarpon taken on 4-pound test in
Florida Bay in 1987.
Such records, as Bill will be the first to state, require
special gear and a special approach. Bill prefers Knightsticks,
Daiwa BG15 reels with custom leather washers and Ande 4-pound
test. Rigging the 15 foot shock leader which IGFA allows between
the test line and bait or lure remains the most critical point.
With 30-pound, 50-pound and, at the tarpon end, even 80-pound
sections, this leader holds the record key. For if you can hook a
tarpon on a shallow flat and, after the first wild jumps, fight
the fish "on the leader" you have a chance.
A skilled guide like Joe Wejebe who can find fish and pole all
day long in the hot sun helps too. However, even record days can
start poorly. Wejebe couldn't get decent big shrimp, the aerator
in the bait tank broke and the bait died. So, after a pod of big
tarpon refused a soft plastic bait, Bill cast the Finger Mullet
lure he'd rigged on a second rod.
A huge tarpon "garbaged the plug" and, as Bill bowed
to the fish to avoid a broken line, porpoised seven feet in the
air before it ran wildly over the sandy flat. Bill followed the
fish with his rod tip. Wejebe poled hard. After a long fight
Wejebe missed the fish with his gaff. The fish dove under the
boat and around the motor. Bill plunged the rod into the water
and cleared the line. Finally, after poling for miles, over two
and a half-hours, Bill led the fish into range. Wejebe took a
deep breath, stretched and jammed the big gaff home with both
hands.
At the nearest certified scales the fish weighted 108 pounds,
8 ounces and stretched 88 inches. It beat the old record by over
30 pounds!
Surgin' Sturgeon
These days Joey Pallotta runs a sturgeon boat in the Northern
California waters where he took his record 468 pound fish.
Regulations changed; you can not keep sturgeon longer than six
feet, so his record may well be good for all time.
Sturgeon. Pallotta feels, "Sturgeon
fishing is a lot more relaxing than most methods where you work
hard. You set out a bait and wait. It's ideal for those who work
hard during the week."
Pallotta set his record on 60-pound test on a lazy day when he
and his girlfriend had enjoyed lunch and worked on their suntans
in the broad waters of San Pablo Bay. Suddenly, over his
girlfriend's shoulder, Pallotta saw his rod tip dip into the
water. He stroked to set the hook, momentarily thought he'd
snagged bottom and fell back as the huge fish surged partly out
of the water, shook it's gills and took off. Pallotta cranked up
his 18-foot runabout and followed through the heavy weekend boat
traffic which ranges from container vessels to atomic submarines.
It took "only" five hours and 30 minutes before
Pallotta, now exhausted, could jam a rope through the giant
fish's gills.
Now mounted in the Crockett Museum, the fish is not nearly the
largest sturgeon on record. Fish hauled in by horses pushed 2,000
pounds around 1900. However, this record should stand because of
the changed regulations.
Real Rainbows
David White's dad was mad. The taxidermist to whom he sent his
son's big salmon wouldn't stop phoning with questions about his
eight year old son's catch. Then, the problem cleared up as the
taxidermist noted, "I'm certain this is a big steelhead, not
a salmon. It could be a world record."
Rainbow. After many delays, such as flying
experts to Alaska's Bell Island to check scales, and all sorts of
other problems, David's fish now stands as the IGFA record
rainbow. David isn't impressed. As he noted, "I don't
remember anything special. It took about 35 to 40 minutes to land
the fish. He was still fighting when Dad netted him. He was blind
in one eye. So when he swam by the boat he couldn't see the
net."
Dr. White, David's father, remembers it a bit differently. He
notes, "A lot of people thought we were crazy. We often
fished together out of our Avon." On the day in question the
whole family was aboard. Dr. White ran the outboard. David and
his two brothers perched on the center seat with, as his father
says, "the bare minimum of pushing, shoving and elbowing
after being cooped up in a chartered Beaver (small bush
plane.)" David's mother and sister huddled in the covered
bow out of the spray.
As they trolled the Glory Hole off the resort, David got what
Dr. White called, "the big hit." The fish ran out of
current into slack water and a long slogging struggle began.
David couldn't hold the fish, but when he tried to give up, his
dad threatened to put David's brothers on the rod to share the
glory. David held on. He'd rest one arm and reel with the other.
By the time the fish hit Dr. White's net it was dark. So, when
Alaskan Fish and Game weighted the huge fish at the dock, it won
the salmon derby. Dr. White wanted to steak and eat the fish
because it wouldn't fit into their coolers. The lodge owner
convinced Dr. White that David would probably never catch a
bigger salmon and suggested the fish be boxed and frozen for the
taxidermist. So nobody saw the fish in daylight. After an IGFA
investigation, the fish was certified as the world record Rainbow
at 42 pounds, 2 ounces. Twenty years later, David still isn't
impressed.
Blue Collar Bluefin
Bluefin Tuna. Ken Fraser keeps the tail of
his record Bluefin tuna in his basement. According to Mr. Fraser,
"It didn't bring much. I did get some recognition from
sports Illustrated, but as far as Canada goes, nothing."
Fraser was probably in the wrong place. He usually skippered out
of Prince Edward Island, but took his record fish off a friend's
boat off Nova Scotia. Apparently the two areas don't get along
well. When asked about Fraser, Nova Scotia Tourism claimed he was
dead.
Fraser lives, but his interest in fishing has died. He
complains of long-liners, over fishing and the burden of records.
His account of the catch mostly runs to gear, and there is no
excitement in his voice when he talks of that day. Apparently, he
had to fight the fish and direct the skipper during the short 45
minute fight. Even after the catch Fraser seemed disappointed.
". . . I didn't know how big the fish was until I couldn't
get my usual tail rope over the fish's tail for the hoist. If we
had weighed the fish right away, it would have gone over 1,500
pounds. Even so, I don't think my record will be beaten."
Rolling your own record
Given the number of line tests open at the North American
Fishing Hall of Fame, and the low weights of some International
Game Fish Association test records, fishermen willing to meet the
varied requirements of these organizations should be able to set
their own records. However, it's clear that, like fame and
fortune, records bring their holders what the holders bring their
record.
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