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The
Martha's Vineyard Times is a weekly publication.
July 28 - August 3, 2005 Edition
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Gone
Fishin'
I think it was the combination of the weight of the fish and the fact that the fishermen who caught it missed the final weigh in by six minutes. I guess that with Lance Armstrong a seven-time winner of the Tour de France, the news folks were looking for a story to illustrate the agony of defeat. They found it on The Times on the Internet with a reference and a photo of a shark capable of eating 10 skinny European bicyclists on their bicycles in one swallow. (A quick disclaimer: I think Lance Armstrong deserves a ticker tape parade. His determination, athletic skills, personal story of triumph over cancer and overall character are the stuff of legend. And for a Texan to beat all those Euro-snobs and in France, does it get any sweeter?) On Thursday morning the talking heads on Channel 5 announced that a big shark was caught “off Martha’s Vineyard.” They didn’t mention that it was more than 100 miles “off.” When I arrived at The Times that morning, there was already a message from a fellow named Ian Baker with the Herald Sun in Melbourne, Australia. He said, “News has reached us about your fishing competition and the massive 1,100 pound tiger shark that was taken on the weekend in Oaks Bluffs.” In a follow up e-mail Ian illustrated the cultural difference that exists between a country like Australia, where the authorities have to protect the beaches with nets to keep sharks from decreasing the population, and the US, where American butterballs swim along the beaches without fear of tiger sharks. In the e-mail he wrote, “Aussies love a good shark story — especially the one that didn’t get away. Look forward to hearing from you.” I received another e-mail asking about photos, from France. The woman said she was working for the French news magazine, “Paris Match,” and was looking for a picture found on The Times website of a massive tiger shark caught off the Vineyard. Curious about how far this shark business had reverberated around the globe I went to the Google Internet search site and typed “tiger shark Martha’s Vineyard.” The story had certainly made the rounds of news outlets and also ended up in some odd places — that included a web site, “ihatemycubicle.com,” apparently targeting bored office workers. Another odd ball site called Daily Rotten (news you can lose) titled the news item, “Big [expletive deleted] shark caught off east coast.” Paul Cataldo, a seasonal West Tisbury resident, took the tiger shark photo that appeared in The Times. Paul, a passionate amateur photographer, was at the weigh station taking photos as a favor for Greg Skomal, state division of marine fisheries biologist and shark expert. Curious about how all of this shark frenzy had played out, I called Paul and asked him about his 15 minutes of fame. “It was amazing,” said Paul. “It was a thrill to get that kind of exposure.” Paul said his photos appeared in newspapers and on television stations all around the country and the world. But Paul is no shark paparazzi. He said he did not make a dime off his photos. “I wasn’t looking to make money off it,” Paul told me. “What?” I said. “You didn’t even charge the French. I can see not charging the Australians, they’re our pals, but the French. . . .” Paul laughed and thought about it and admitted I was right and he probably should have charged the French. Speaking of the Monster Shark Tournament, I received the following note from Tammura Moreis with the cartoon by B.J. Sullivan that appears with this week’s fishing column. “Isn’t this great. My sister visited me on the Island this weekend and this is her version of seeing the shark contest. “Feeling sympathy for these fish, she said, ‘I wonder what would it be like if the situation was in reverse?” So this is the result of doodling and her thoughts. I thought it was clever enough to share with you and other readers of The Times.” South of the border I received the following account of a May fishing trip to Punta Allen, Ascension Bay, Quintana Roo, Mexico, that Art Bingham of West Tisbury took with his pal, Sherm Okun of Aquinnah. He titled it, “Bonefish Revenge.” “This provides a cautionary tale for fishermen who like to chase false albacore and bonito. It has happened in our waters without the same ending: “It had been a beautiful day of fishing. Manuel, our Mayan guide, had put us on permit earlier and Sherm had caught three while I caught my first ever. (Sherm pointed out that a barracuda got his third one, so technically he caught only two.) “As we entered a cove adjacent to Bird Island, a spot full of nesting frigate birds, pelicans, and storks, our boat hung up on a sand bar. I was standing in the bow, ready to cast. “I carefully put down my rod and turned to see if I could be of help, not realizing that my fly was dangling in the water. It was at that moment we heard the splash. “There was no noise of a rod scraping against the side of a boat — just a splash. My beautiful Orvis 9-weight, my nearly new Bauer reel, a Christmas present from my wife and kids, had disappeared. “Impossible! This couldn’t really have happened, could it? “First we thought the fly must have caught on a tuft of dune grass. No such luck. Next, the guide dove and searched the bottom around the boat. Clear as a bell. Then reality set in, with a mental picture of my gear being towed by a bonefish somewhere in the Gulf of Mexico. We slowly cruised the area looking for a miracle and finally, reluctantly, headed for home, leaving a pole in the sand to mark the spot so we could find the area again the following day for one more look. “I spent the rest of the day cursing my stupidity, regretting the $1000 deductible on my homeowner’s policy and, finally, started to think about what new rod and reel I might choose as a replacement. Not a happy evening. “When the owner of the camp said it was a first in his sixteen years, that didn’t help either. What a way to be remembered. “The next day dawned beautiful, as had all the others during our six-day stay. This would be our final day. I used Sherm’s extra rod (I had managed to turn my backup 9 weight into an 8 foot 9 earlier in the week) and we had another memorable day. “Around 3 in the afternoon we entered the area of the previous day’s debacle. Our guide and his assistant donned facemasks and made an extensive search of the bottom. No luck, unless you consider finding the pliers our guides had managed to lose while combing the bottom the previous day to be a good omen. I didn’t. “I ponder which way a hooked bonefish runs carrying a 9-weight fly rod complete with reel. And what are the odds of a mere mortal tracking him. “We continued, slowly, to circle the many mangrove islands looking for any sign. After three quarters of an hour of this we were ready to give up when, looking toward one more mangrove island we spotted a long length of white fly line a few inches above the water line, held by the mangroves. It was floating line! “We followed the line to the fly. The fish was gone, and the hook seriously bent. As the guide reached into the mangroves to extricate the fly, a barracuda lunged for it – big splash – and luckily, a near miss! Back tracking the length of fly line and at least a couple of hundred feet of backing we found my errant fly rod and reel, tip up, and none the worse for its long trip through the salt water. “It is interesting to speculate on what might really have happened after he took the fly. What gave him the extra adrenalin to bend the hook hundreds of yards from where he ate it? “I’ve always described a bone as an extraordinarily fast and nervous fish that shares the flats with shark and barracuda, lives his life in fear, and has a good chance of dying in terror. I hope this one got away. Fish reports The bonito that were around off Menemsha and Edgartown harbor appear to have disappeared. Weather permitting, Vineyard fishermen have been heading south looking for their bigger tuna cousins. During the flat conditions that prevailed last week a flotilla of Island boats enjoyed some tuna action. Most of the fish are of the school tuna variety. The shore striped bass fishing slowed considerably. The fish were around but were feeding exclusively on krill, small shrimp-like creatures. I did have some luck Sunday evening after dark on a deserted Lobsterville Beach tossing a five-inch white Sluggo with a small cone-shaped lead weight on a light rod. The bass just could not resist hitting my slowly retrieved Sluggo. |
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