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Date: Patience
Title: Aug 29, 2004
Date: 30 Aug 2004
Time: 20:01:49 -0400
“Patience Pays Off” Roger Cornelius had fished with me before as part of a crew from the Ted Nugget Outdoor Adventure Club. During that first fish trip offshore, we accidentally hung into and landed a ~125 pound sandbar shark with Roger on the pole. It became apparent that the shark made an impression on Roger because it wasn’t long afterwards he called and asked if I did shark fishing trips. Specifically, he wanted a large shark. I told him it would be a first for me and before we could go I had to get a shark permit for charter. Well, this week was Roger’s trip. For this trip I had onboard a couple of things that were unusual. One, a bait cooler filled with two boxes of chum, several boxes of left over frozen sardines, bags of freezer burned fish (spanish mackerel and amberjack) and one super sized blue runner. Two, a shot gun. I also brought three 9/0 reels loaded with 200 lb test terminally rigged with 8 foot of 330 lb test stainless wire and 14/0 meat hook. The tackle was serious looking compared to the normal grouper gear of 4/0’s with 50 lb test. As for a ‘hunting’ location, I picked out a large area of live bottom around Lamb Spring. We, first off, set up a chum slick. In a few minutes, schools of bait fish dimpled the water around the boat. It was not long after that the first rod doubled over. Roger got on the rod. A couple of pumps and the line went limp. Whatever took the bait had cut the wire three feet above the hook! I didn’t say anything but I was kinda glad it did. The second hit did the same thing; the wire was cut clean. Perhaps, we may have bitten off more than I cared to chew. The third hit, we ended up taking a four foot barracuda. That was strange because the fish took a dead bait off the bottom. However, I was glad to have it. I split it lengthwise and we hung it over the side for fresh chum. After that, there were two quick hits that simply let go. Then the big wait... A few hours filled up with light naps, some good stories and me ‘tennis ball’ thinking “we should leave/the chum will work; we should try a new spot/the chum will work; we should try around a wreak/the chum will work”. Hours of batting those thoughts around in my head was giving me a headache. In the meantime, the grunts were steadily pecking away our bait to the point of getting thin on re-baits. Nothing like adding a little pressure to a hot boring event. “A fin” exclaimed Roger. My first thought was dolphin. My first sight was ‘O’ my’. Well off the stern a large fin darted to and fro coming toward the boat. The baits were set right in the path. When it came into view, the fin was attached to a highly activated ten foot hammer head shark. The pectoral fins pointed down, the hammer swung back and forth and the tail thrusting the monster at us at a quick pace. I felt the boat get small. It stalled at the floating bait. Then, for some unknown reason, it swam off. We tossed extra chum out as an invitation for an encore but to no avail. Little B said “let’s cut some of this barracuda up for bait”. Roger reeled in the free-line pole and we replaced the amberjack chunk with the barracuda and re-set the bait. Within five minutes that pole went off. Roger was hooked up with something huge. Two minutes into the fight, the fish threw the bait. Disappointed for the sixth hook up. We re-set the line with more barracuda. Five minutes later, the pole double over, the reel dumped line off the tight drag and Roger was locked into round seven. The shark ran dead off the stern, then took to the port toward the bow. Little B released the anchor rode from the bow cleat. The bitter end of the anchor line had a float slipped on it so we could come back to pick it up afterwards. The shark cut under the anchor line as we drifted away. Roger was on the bow with Little B keeping him steady. The shark ran starboard down the boat off the stern. Back to the port for another merry-go-round for Roger. The shark took Roger three times around the boat. An open uncluttered boat sure has advantages when taking on large fish. It is a great option rather than having to jockey the boat around to keep the fish to the stern. Anyway, the dog race was over. Now, the dog fight began. Reel up a little to lose a lot changed to reel up a little lose a little, then to reel up a lot to lose a little. It was going great until the shark saw the boat. Start all over. Roger was feeling the stress of round seven. At times, he was an upside down letter L leaning on the gunnel. When will it end I thought. Roger thought when will it ever end. A half an hour into it, Little B got the 20 gauge out and put a shell in it. The shark was showing signs of fatigue, as was, Roger. Little B handed me the gun and said “I’m not going to be the one to shoot a hole in your boat”. That gives one confidence like a coach saying “I’m putting you in because your dad is my boss”. I’m not the best shot in the world so I was waiting on a clean head shot. One that didn’t have the steel leader in the cross hairs. During the time it took me to feel good about squeezing the trigger, I know Roger was thinking “Good lord, captain Stevie Wonder could have popped him by now”. It took two head shots before the shark let us get a rope around its tail. It hung there for twenty minutes while we collected ourselves. Afterwards, we put two more ropes around it. One around the torso and the other near the head. While putting on the torso rope, the shark had it’s last gasp, thrashing up with it’s mouth close enough to Little B that he had a religious experience; however, I don’t think the Lord approved the language. It took all three of us to heave the shark over the gunnel. It landed on the deck with a solid thud. We pushed it against the side and placed twenty pound bags of ice all over it, then draped wet towels over top of the shark. Next stop to pick up the anchor then to the dock for photos. At the dock we measured the bull shark just shy of eight foot and guessed the weight to be a little less than two hundred pounds. What an experience! The next experience was getting the meat out of the shark. You see, one cleans fish but butchers sharks. Just handling that animal was tough. It ended up to be a two hour ordeal. I liked the the catching part but observed the butchering part to more than I care to do. I’m a fan of catch and release but Roger was happy with a large cooler of the shark meat. I hope so because he is now the Bubbagump of shark. You know, fried shark, grilled shark, broiled shark, boiled shark, shark burgers, shark gumbo, shark skampi, shark... I’m glad my indecision led to the patience needed to let the chum slick work. Seeing a huge hammer head come in hot and heavy was worth the time on the anchor. The bull shark was the icing on the cake. Good job Roger! Red grouper are hot right now. The two red grouper per person change has actually made them somewhat of nuisance. At this point, I’m tossing back red grouper less than 22 inches though the state minimum size is 20 inches. Gag grouper are biting well too; however, the reds are so aggressive you have catch numerous reds before icing down a good mess of gags. It’s a nice problem to have. The grouper a taking frozen baits from forty feet on out to deeper water. The best bet is to save the gas and fish shallow hard bottom areas. Trout fishing is pretty good during the week when there aren’t thousands of boats on the flats doing the scallop thing. Fishing the deeper grass beds with live pinfish or cut bait on a jig head is productive. By word of mouth, the redfish are a little hard to come by. But those die-hard creek fishers, your one fish limit is a reasonable expectation. That’s it from the Steinhatchee. Take care of yourself and your tackle. Capt B