As the rockfish and lingcod season ended Dec. 31, I got to thinking about past grand battles and recalled one to share. It was a fishing battle worth telling, and also a tale of tough decisions.
Not long ago, before lingcod season ended, I was fishing a hotspot where I knew there were some exceptionally large lingcod. On my hook was a lively six-inch mackerel, rigged on a reverse dropper loop, and fished within a foot of the rocks 340 feet below.
I felt the rod bend and the telltale tug of a powerful lingcod bulldogging its way back into its rocky lair after dashing out to inhale my mackerel bait. I set the hook solidly and pulled upward with equal stubbornness while hooting and hollering like the kid I still am.
It was a dead-even standoff for the first minute. Then I began to work the big fish slowly up away from the rocks. My confidence waxed. Periodically the fish would put its shoulder into the fight and peel line off against a buttoned-down drag as it made for the safety of the rocks. My confidence waned. But eventually, I was clearly gaining line.
I know lingcod well, having battled a thousand of them. This one was big, I estimated 25 pounds which earns my nickname for large lingcod — “lingasaur.” I had this prehistoric denizen of the deep coming my way and I was smacking my lips thinking of the delicious and healthy filets I would be taking home for the family.
I was feeling the strain after fighting the fish 300 feet upwards to within 40 feet of the surface. Then suddenly the rod bent double and I hung on for all I was worth as a hundred feet of line peeled off that reel against a tight drag. I groaned, grimaced and bellowed, because I knew exactly what had happened.
A mako shark had bit my ling cod and was claiming it.
Instinctively, I shifted into heavy battle mode. Ignoring sore tired muscles, I repeatedly lifted, reeled, lifted, reeled, lifted, reeled. The shark came halfway up and then made another run. We kept at it for a good 30 minutes, both of us equally stubborn.
That shark finally broke surface 15 paces off my port beam — head out of the water — with my lingasaur clenched firmly in its jaws.
We glared at one other — apex predator to apex predator — each of us tugging intently on that lingcod, which I still had securely hooked. Let me assure you, if you think a lingcod cannot get an expression on its face, you are wrong!
That mako bit that lingcod clean in two and lazily swam around the boat while enjoying its meal. I reeled in my half of the lingcod, which was now less than the legal minimum size limit for a lingcod, so I could not keep it. I knew that all I had to do was pin my short half of the lingcod onto the hook and coax that mako adversary into biting it. Best of all, mako shark are very tasty.
I stared at that big shark and looked at my part of the lingcod, but I understood that I would be pushing the rules if I used a short lingcod for bait. So, with a shrug I tossed my short half of the lingcod to the shark with a one-finger salute. That salute is always the last great act of defiance, right?
— Capt. David Bacon operates WaveWalker Charters and is president of SOFTIN Inc., a nonprofit organization providing seafaring opportunities for those in need. Visit softininc.blogspot.com to learn more about the organization and how you can help. Click here to read previous columns. The opinions expressed are his own.
