Marlin's Marlin

Everyone already knows the obvious: catching any fish isn’t something you can ever count on. And after four years of being involved in the production of a fishing show, I know that catching someone on-camera catching a big fish is even less likely. You gotta be there when it happens and you gotta be paying attention when it does. Most of all it depends on luck. I’m not very superstitious, but for the show I tend to do stuff like knock wood just in case.

 

In 2007 I had a meeting with HIBT founder Peter Fithian and we decided that when Hawaii Goes Fishing went back into production, it would be nice to do a show about what’s probably one of the oldest fishing tournaments around. It’s certainly Hawaii’s oldest tournament and one of the few that doesn’t have a money prize. I covered the HIBT back in the 1980’s when I was a photographer for the Star-Bulletin and it gave me my first impression of blue water fishing.

 

 When we finally got back into production this year, Peter invited me out to Kona and asked public relations director Laura Aquino to help me get the access I needed.

 

 Among the stories we planned was about George Parker. He caught the first Pacific Blue marlin weighing more than 1,000 pounds and was the namesake for the George Parker award which is given to the angler who brings in a grander at the HIBT. The only fisherman to claim that prize was Gil Kraemer in 1986. 

 

 Laura arranged to get me on the Marlin Magic II, captained by one of George Parker’s sons, Marlin Parker. Yes, he was named after the grander that George caught in 1954, and he and his brother Randy both followed in their father’s footsteps.

 

 The Marlin Magic II is a huge charter boat. Parker bought the 54-foot Allied as a run-down vessel and totally rebuilt it into a beautiful fishing cruiser. The only thing that remained from the original, he said, was the steering wheel. A lot of great captains handled that wheel, he said, and he wanted to keep its mana on board.

 

Crewing was Frank “Trip” Davis III. I thought Frank got his nickname because of an infamous moment of clumsiness. Turns out “Trip” stands for “Triple”, referring to him as the third to bear the name “Frank Davis”. Also on board was James Thackeray, who distributes Marlin Parker’s line of lures in Australia. He was there to observe how the lures were used and how they worked.

 

 Monday was the first day of the tournament and my first day out on the water. After getting the usual shots of leaving the dock, lures being sent out, and anglers settling in for the day, I got a nice interview with Parker. Carol Lynne, working hard in the galley, prepared snacks and lunch for the anglers and crew. In the afternoon, she baked chocolate chip cookies. I discovered that among the charter boats in Honokohau Harbor, Carol is famous for her fresh-baked cookies. The Marlin Magic II might attract fish out at sea. But at the dock, it attracts other skippers.

 

 Monday turned out to be uneventful. Not good.

 

 Some fishermen believe that having a camera around is bad luck. That’s not encouraging when you’re trying to produce a fishing show because having a camera around is an integral part of that process. The  team I was covering on Parker’s boat had nothing to show at the end of the day, and good-naturedly suggested tossing me over the side. At least they were considering doing it right outside the harbor. I’m not very superstitious, but I didn’t like the possibility of having an adverse affect on someone’s fate.

 

 When Laura arranged to have me on the Marlin Magic II again on Tuesday, I jumped at the chance. At least Parker didn’t think I was bachi. I might be able to add to the interview about George Parker and hopefully get some team action as well.

 

 On board was Team 2 from Laguna Nigel, including team captain Bob Dudley, Chuck Salinger and Chris Ross. Bob’s an accountant. Chuck’s a dermatologist and Chris a doctor. At the start of the day, they decided who was going to be in the chair first, and each hour someone else would stand watch. If a fish struck within that hour, the angler of the hour would grab the rod. I worked out a system where I would put a wireless mic on the angler on-shift. At the shift change, the mic was transferred to the next angler. The wire had to be placed out of the way so it wouldn’t get kinked or damaged. But most importantly it had to be out of the way of the fishing tackle. Nothing could be allowed to interfere with the fishing. In this tournament the stakes were too high.

 

 When one of the reels went off the first time, Chuck was on it. Mahimahi. Didn’t take long for Trip to pull it in and turn it into slabs of fillet. A second mahimahi came in before lunch and Chris quickly boated that one. Even though there were other mahimahi lingering in the wake, Parker didn’t bother. It was weird seeing a school like that passed up so casually. This was a billfish tournament and mahimahi aren’t worth anything. 

 

 Bob was on standby now. And Parker started heading south, out of the rough water he was hunting in. 

 

 Then one of the reels went off again. Another mahimahi?

 

 “That’s a real one,” Parker said. His usual low-key tones were starting to elevate and at that point I immediately knew we had something special developing.

 

 Trip shouted, “Marlin! Marlin! That’s a big one!”

 

 The Penn reel was buzzing loudly as dozens of yards of line rapidly peeled off. Bob grabbed the rod and got himself into the fighting chair. As soon as he got the line tight, Parker threw the 54-foot Allied in full reverse to slow the loss of line, and waves of saltwater poured over the transom. We were leaving a bizzare-looking wake off the bow!

 

 Parker shouted a series of fast and sharp commands to Trip and Carol.

 

 “Trip you stay with him on the drag!” 

 

“Get these gaffs on the deck, man.” 

 

“Get that rope put on the chair right now! I want the white rope to be the first gaff... We might take this thing real fast!”

 

 Trip and Carol were moving quickly, as though there were trying to keep the boat from sinking. They’ve gone through these procedures countless times before but with a potential record marlin at the end of the line, making sure everything was done exactly right put a huge amount of pressure on everyone.

 

 “James, have you ever gaffed a big one before?” Parker asked. James was on the bridge as an observer but today it was going to be all-hands on deck. No one was going to be allowed to sit back and watch when the critical moment came. Parker sent James down to the cockpit.

 

Chris Ross and Chuck Salinger were ushered out of the cockpit. Parker wanted no one anywhere near the fighting chair except for Carol and Trip. I didn’t dare go down there to get the usual close-ups of facial expressions. I could imagine the line suddenly swinging over me. The tightly tensioned monofilament clipping a sharp edge on my camera. The microscopic nick in the line quickly expanding into a wider cut and . . .

 “Dean. Dean.” Parker was trying to get my attention but I didn’t want to take my eye of the eyepiece. So I turned my head slightly to the side and nodded.

 

 “Dean look at me.” I told myself that I’d better not piss him off because he might just throw me over the side. I was thinking at least I’m always wearing a compact PFD and my personal locator beacon is part of my outfit. Search-and-rescue will know where I am in 25 minutes and the Coast Guard will probably pick me up in an hour, and the footage on the solid-state cards will be safe.

 

Parker got my full attention. “Dean, if the line shifts over there, move to the other side so I can see what’s going on.” OK. Got it. He had to remind me only once. It was easy to get mesmerized by the silent drama of seeing the line move from one end of the transom to the other while my imagination started to run away. Maybe the marlin would lunge upward in a desperate attempt to get free of the hook and burst out of the water like a ballistic missile. Or perhaps angrily charge the boat and come crashing over the gunwale. Heaven forbid the hook should work its way loose or a piece of hardware fail. I kept those negative thoughts out of my mind as best I could. Just in case.

 

 Then Trip shouted to Parker that the reel was making funny noises. Parker went to the railing on the bridge and listened. When Bob cranked the reel it made a loud, nasty squeak.

 

 “Eek!” It was the only time I ever heard Parker say anything that wasn’t a firm directive. It also sounded like something bad was happening. Really bad.

 

 Parker told Bob to set the reel’s gear drive down to one-to-one. And it worked. Apparently something in the reel’s gearshift system was malfunctioning. Better to retrieve slower than not at all.

 

 For our show, getting good audio is a major concern in addition to getting good images. It’s often said that sound is at least 50% of what you see. I’m always monitoring sound for quality, along with making sure the shot is in focus and properly exposed. As soon as Chris and Chuck were sent into the salon my audio suddenly changed. My in-ear monitors were telling me that the other wireless mic wasn’t on Bob. Chris was still wearing the mic!

 

 The Laguna Nigel team had a rotation going with each angler taking his shift each hour. After the first few shift changes, they did the mic swap themselves, so I only had to swap batteries late in the morning to make sure there was enough power to cover the rest of the day. However, as luck would have it, the short bait got hit right at the shift change and there was never a chance to plant the mic on Bob!

 

 I switched over to the on-camera mic which provides excellent coverage but it can’t get that up-close sense of proximity which a wireless mic can get. But some sound is better than none, and everyone was almost shouting anyway. Except for soft-spoken Bob. Apparently Bob wasn’t the excitable type and wasn’t saying much at all. In fact, even Chris and Chuck kept quiet as they watched intently from the doorway of the salon.

 

 I imagined it would be great if Audy were there to handle sound. Audy Kimura is the other exec producer of the show and is also a recording engineer. We could run a couple of Tascam P2 digital audio recorders with two more AT-1800 dual wireless systems and put wireless mics on everyone. Pick up every single comment in perfect crystal clarity. Maybe that would happen sometime in the future but right then it’s just me.

 

 Note to self: next time wire the chair. That’s where the angler is going to end up anyway. Duh!

 The initial rush of action subsided for now. The water that came rushing over the transom when Parker had the boat in full reverse was starting to evaporate off the deck. And the engines were purring in idle. Bob Dudley kept the line tight while Trip calmly kept up the encouragement.

 

Parker said, “You got some very rare footage. Not very many cameramen ever get to see anything like this.” I grinned and nodded. While I’m not very superstitious I’m not about to mess with fate. Don’t gloat unless it’s in the boat. So I kept my mouth shut.

 

 I heard stories about people fighting marlins for hours, so that’s what I had to prepare for next. As Parker said, they might have boated the fish in the first several minutes of hookup if they were using 80-pound test. But the team preferred 50-pound test for the additional points they could earn for the lighter line. For now the marlin had gone down and was meandering somewhere below. There was plenty of battery power available for the camera but a serious limitation was recording time.

 

 The high-definition cameras we use for the show don’t use tape. The Sony EX1 camera records everything to solid-state cards that are expensive. I had 2.5 hours of recording time remaining and I couldn’t just continuously shoot until the fish came in. I had to be a lot more selective if I was going to make it to the end.

 

 I paid close attention to everything I could see and hear, with my thumb hovering over the “record” button. I constantly checked to see whether the camera was recording or on standby. You want to make sure the camera is recording when it should and isn’t wasting valuable recording time when nothing is happening. It’s easy to make a serious mistake either way. 

 

Odd noises, sudden moves, if Bob even twitched: anything like that would get me to start shooting (lucky I wasn’t holding a machine gun). I can always stop the camera. But if I missed a critical event, it would be gone forever. No backups. No one else to help cover. Screwing up wasn’t an option. As a veteran news photographer, that kind of vigilance is routine. I covered enough championship games and hostage situations to be comfortable when things get heavy. But filming is different from shooting stills. With still photography you need to get that one peak action shot. With film (or digital HD video) you need to cover the action as it evolves. That means keeping the camera trained on the subject. Unfortunately in this situation a tripod is out of the question. Even a monopod gets in the way and doesn’t allow the flexibility of shooting straight down to the deck below. So it’s all handheld. As the minutes ticked by the 13-pound camera kept getting heavier.

 

 All the while, that IGFA-approved 50-pound monofilament was looking thinner. As the marlin kept leading us slowly in reverse, I could clearly see tiny ripples coming off the line where it sliced through the water. I could imagine three hundred yards of gossamer line dragging down below, straining to maintain an increasingly tenuous connection between what might be a firmly set hook and Bob’s rod and reel.

 

The sun beat down relentlessly on Bob. In IGFA rules, only one person can touch the rod and reel. If anyone else handles the tackle, the fish is disqualified. The only time another hand can come into play is when the leader is up at the boat. Trip paid close attention to Bob’s comfort and got him whatever he needed, especially water. And at one point Carol wrapped Bob’s neck with a wet towel. Chris and Chuck gave Bob all the moral support he could use. As one hour became two, Bob was stuck in the fighting chair.

 

The line gradually angled further away from the transom. The fish was steadily rising toward the surface. Then suddenly Parker called out, “There it is.” The marlin broke the surface and began thrashing furiously away from the boat. The line strained tighter, much of it still well beneath the surface. I was thinking how that must be multiplying the force on the line and I realized why anglers sometimes reduce the drag settings when fish are running for the horizon. I snapped the camera upward to catch the fish torpedoing on the water and snapped the zoom in tight. This thing was big!

 

Bob maintained perfect pressure on the line the whole time. This wasn’t his first big fish and, as it turned out, it wasn’t going to be his last in the tournament either. By the time the fish came up for the last time, two hours and eleven minutes had passed since the initial hookup. I kept the camera tightly focused on the marlin as it rolled over just off the boat’s port side. Parker and Bob worked together to get the prize fish to gaff. The diesel engines growled almost menacingly as Parker pivoted the heavy hull around before the fish got a chance to make a break for it. Before I realized it, Trip had wraps of the thick leader around his hands and was now dragging the beast to gaff.

 

“Get it!” “Get in there! Anywhere!” Parker and Trip shouted. James rushed in with the first flying gaff and hooked it solidly near the pectoral fins. Parker ran down from the helm and quickly sank a second flying gaff as Trip held the leader tightly. I worked my way down the narrow, slick footholds on the side of the cabin as best I could with the camera still running, making sure I didn’t go overboard. By the time I got to the cockpit, the marlin was secured against the hull and Bob was sitting back in the fighting chair with a huge smile on his face.

 

 The game isn’t over until the marlin is aboard. And with the blood it was trailing, there was a risk of sharks taking valuable points off their prize. Parker, Trip, James and Carol struggled to haul a half-ton of monster marlin out of harm’s way as fast as they could.

 

Parker, Trip, James, Carol and the angling team were tugging hard at the marlin which wasn’t budging at all. The bill was partly in the salon. And the broad tail was till sticking out the door in the transom. It was almost a thousand pounds of dead weight and, despite everyone’s efforts, wasn’t going anywhere. Just as I was beginning to consider if I should step out of my role as a journalist, Trip apparently read my mind and said, “Dean. Put that ------- camera down!” (I did catch that request on-camera, by the way). It was now all-hands. Including me.

 

Bob called his wife right after the marathon fight. From his subdued tone you’d think he was calling just to let Sally know he was going to be home late for dinner. As for myself, I knew we had something extra special. I’d photographed lots of large marlin at the scales, but this was the biggest damn fish I’d ever witnessed being brought to gaff. The difference was like someone telling you about the greatest play in the Super Bowl and actually being there on the sidelines watching it happen. 24 years of news photography experience had me remembering what it felt like to get a scoop. An exclusive. There were no other cameramen on the boat and the press boat was miles away. I was lucky. We were all lucky.

 

I called Audy to let him know what happened. He passed the news to his media contacts. Phil Parker at communications relayed to Laura Aquino that the Marlin Magic II had a possible tournament winner on board. Word got out to the news media right away. And before we got anywhere near the dock I got a call from Star-Bulletin columnist and long-time friend Ben Wood asking about the details. The crew and team aboard the Marlin Magic II arrived at the pier amidst a champion’s welcome, and the Laguna Nigel Team #2 had a wonderful moment in the limelight. With Bob Dudley’s 695-pound marlin two days later, plus tagged marlins by Chris and Chuck, they earned the championship title of the 2008 HIBT.

 

It dawned on me later that week that my wife Mary and I had visited the remains of an ancient Hawaiian village the weekend before the tournament. There was stone which was described as a fishing shrine, and Mary suggested I leave an offering of some kind. So I rummaged around in my pockets for something appropriate and buried it at the base of the shrine.

 

Hey. Maybe that might have had something to do with it. I’m not very superstitious, but I’m not about to mess with fate. Anyway, at least the thought of having a camera aboard wasn’t considered bad luck anymore. 

 

Writers note: Sadly, Chris Ross passed away after he got home, two days after the HIBT. Team captain Bob Dudley said that it was nice Chris had a great week of fishing right at the end.

 

Dean Sensui

Executive Producer

VP of Production

He’s the cameraman, writer and editor who puts the shows together. Dean also plays an additional role as the company’s webmaster. With more than 25 years in the media business, Dean has long experience in the craft of telling a story through pictures and words.

 

Audy Kimura

Executive Producer

VP of Marketing

Audy is the composer who created the show’s musical identity but there’s more to him than a guitar and a microphone. Audy celebrated his 21st anniversary at Hy’s Steak House in June 2008 and call his performances there, “my therapy.”

 

Hawaii Goes Fishing

Is Hawaii’s top-rated fishing show featuring a hour full of angling action, tackle tips and more each week on Hawaii’s all-local channel, OC-16. AIRTIMES: Mondays @ 9:00am & 5:00pm, Tuesdays @ 4:30am & 9:00pm, Wednesdays @ 3:00am, Fridays @ 9:00am

Saturdays @ 6:00am & 5:00pm, Sundays @ 6:00am & 5:00pm

Photo Laura Aquino