Live Bait Crew:

This Ahi Fever tournament was marked by the same early excitement as last year.  Lines of boats were waiting to be launched and hundreds of ice bags were being carted to anxious crew members.  Everything seemed so similar to last year, but I think most serious fishermen knew it was going to be tougher fishing this year.  Just a few weeks ago ahi were jumping into boats, but during the past week, the fishing had slowed to a trickle.

As usual, we showed up early, making sure everything was in order.  We spent most of the morning searching for the 200 lb fluorocarbon leader I had dropped off to Captain Shannon 2 weeks prior.  I had asked him to run lures with J-Line clear fluoro alongside the Yozuri “pink” fluoro.  I just wasn’t convinced the pink color was invisible and wanted a pre-tournament trial.  The new deckhand, Mah, was taking heat from the Captain for poor organization – the fluoro spools were nowhere to be found.  Luckily, some of the lures were previously fitted with the fluorocarbon and they still looked in good condition.

As the start fishing call rang out, our main deckhand Ali’i was nowhere to be found.  This 19 year-old kid is one of the best deep sea fishermen I know, so we were going to give him a few more minutes.  Meanwhile, I told Shannon how a friend and I had decided to buy him a real fighting chair.  The solid steel backless stool with gimbal currently on the boat offered an angler no advantages over a big fish.  We discussed how footrests can give anglers the edge on big fish.  I reminded Shannon that he had never hunted “noses” with me, and I had no intention of fighting a “big blue” in his current chair.  I’m thinking it’s a good thing this is primarily an ahi tournament.

By 6:20, we left the harbor without Ali’i.  We knew most boats turned (right) out of the harbor toward Ka’ena point.  Captain Shannon had no intention of joining the weekend boat show, so we, unlike most competitors, turned left out of the harbor.  Questions about the Captain’s decision weren’t warranted.  Shannon has been running the Live Bait Charter boat out of Wai’anae for 12 years and fishing all his life.  He breathes and sleeps fishing.  His wife is a marine biologist and his dog, fishing with us today, is appropriately named “Otaru.”  Shannon always brings me to the fish, and I expected no less this time around.  Just two months ago we caught over 500 pounds of Shibi by early morning and, in January, I pulled a 190 lb Bigeye onto his deck – my first Bigeye ever.  

About a mile out of the harbor, Ali’i’s dad called Shannon’s cell phone.  Fishing on another boat, Ali’i’s dad had gone back to the harbor and picked up the late-waking deckhand.  After catching up to us, he pulled up alongside our boat and jumped on board.  I had never seen anything like it.  Taxi service… Wai’anae style.

The captain’s plan was to find bird piles and Aku schools outside Nanakuli.  Among the schools, we would hope a large ahi or two was hiding beneath.  We promptly passed through a few piles and snagged a few aku for the cooler.  We briefly contemplated walking a live aku through the piles, but decided trolling would allow us to cover more ground.  And since the fishing was slow, more ground covered increased our chances.

Sometime around 11AM, the look of things changed.  Birds were sitting in fairly large groups on the water, and the ocean suddenly looked promising.  Ali’i calls the area “donkey land,” since giant marlin roam the area.  Soon thereafter, we spotted a marlin on the short center.  I saw his bill lift clear out of the water as he opened wide for the lure.  He took it for a few seconds, and then came off.  He re-appeared a few seconds later on the right outrigger.  This time, Ali’i was ready and cranked as fast as he could to set the hook.  The fish released again.  A few seconds later, he hit the same line.  This time Ali’i dropped the drag lever to free spool.  He smiled at us for a few seconds before throwing the lever up.  The rod immediately curled and the spool screamed…  Hana Pa’a!

I jumped into the Hawaiian fighting chair, a.k.a. “one stool,” as Ali’i passed the rod off to me.  Ironically, I briefly recalled our earlier conversation about the chair as I settled in for battle.  The second deckhand slid a cooler against the back rail.  My legs could reach the cooler which I could now use as a footrest and press.  After taking a few hundred yards, the marlin acknowledged our hook-up with a quick head thrash through the ocean’s surface.  We fought in traditional form.  I recovered hundreds of yards of line only to give it right back.  It was as if the marlin could sense the danger, and would run out repeatedly, just as I recovered the rubber band marker on the line.  At one point, we got him up on the right side of the boat.  This was our first good glance.  I heard Captain Shannon yell “he’s big, guys, he’s big.”  My fellow angler, Mark (a talented skin diver), was hooting and hollering in the background in true Waipahu fashion.  Two gaffs were ready, but he darted across the back of the boat to the opposite side, just out of reach, and then shot straight out toward an observing boat.  He tore about 50 yards of line out, then violently erupted through the surface and launched into the air, dancing on his tail fin.  He performed four sequential breeches for the on-looking boat before stealing more line. 

As an hour approached, I once again recovered the rubber band marker, and saw the large flash of blue beneath the surface – he was turning sideways and finally submitting.  We got him along side the rail and the gaffs were in.  Ali’i tied off his nose and we contemplated towing him back to the harbor.  Shannon called it in, “Ahi Fever base, boat 125, marlin, 400 pounds.”  For obvious reasons, we then had a change of heart and decided to bring him onto the deck.  The width of his head stopped him from passing the door.  We angled him 45 degrees and hauled him through.  We were in awe of his full size.  Shannon and I looked at each other for a second -- acknowledging the fish’s grandeur.  After seeing the marlin sprawled across the deck, we realized 400 pounds was grossly inaccurate.  Shannon called in a correction with a new estimate of 600 pounds.  My last marlin was in 1995 at just under 600 pounds.  This one was bigger, that much I knew.  Back at the harbor, it took several raises at the scale to keep his nose off the floor, but the officials were eventually able to weigh him in at 755.6 pounds.

The remainder of our tournament time was filled with Heineken and relaxation.  We hoped for ahi on Sunday, but it never happened.  We couldn’t put much effort into it – letting the lines out after our big catch was more of a gesture than anything else.  I kept it quiet, but my body was aching.  We spent some of the day reliving the spectacular air show put on by Mr. Marlin.  At the same time, a true fisherman must also have some remorse about removing one of these great beasts from the sea.  They don’t run in schools, they aren’t very common, and they don’t taste as good as ahi.  Shannon mentioned how he’s clearly noticed the decrease in hookups over the years.  I’m thinking that’s all the more reason to have the right chair if you ever do get lucky.

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"Captain Shannon Frazier, Deckhand Ali’i Ainoa, Deckhand “Mah” Frazier, Angler Jeff Maehara, Angler Mark Adaro"