On April 29th, we left La Paz and headed north. As we sailed past Isla Espiritu Santo, Claudia asked if I was going to try fishing. I was a bit hesitant--I haven't had much luck since hooking the big sailfish off Chacala (see blog posting of March 16). But I put out two lures just in case, hoping to catch something for dinner. On the smaller of the two poles, which had 25 lb test line, I trolled a pink plastic lure that looked like a small squid.
At around four in the afternoon, a marlin took the bait. The small pole bent over and line went singing off the reel. Looking behind the boat, Claudia and I saw the fish leap straight out of the water. I had hooked another monster.
Remembering what happened with the sailfish, I immediately tightened the drag on the reel and held on. After the initial leap, the marlin made a big run and line went smoking off the reel. I worried I'd lose all my line again, but this time I managed to keep enough pressure on the line to turn the fish. At that point, the marlin dove deep, behind our boat. Claudia furled the jib but left the mainsail up and drawing--so the boat was moving forward at about 2-3 knots--keeping constant pressure on the fish. Claudia took the picture shown above about this time.
Although the fish had taken nearly all the line off the reel, I now found that I could slowly reel some line back in. There was too much tension on the line for me to crank the small reel normally, but I was able to grasp the crank mechanism and twist it, drawing in a little line each time, and gradually drew the fish closer to the boat.
Before long, we could see the outline of the fish in the water. But then he saw us and made another run. Again, I almost lost all the line before he was forced to turn. And again I was able to slowly draw line back into the reel, inch by inch, bringing the fish closer. Until he saw the boat, and made yet another run.
I repeated this process at least ten times. Each time I was able to get the fish a little closer to the boat before he turned and made a run to the sides. And each time I was able to turn him back toward the boat a little sooner. I knew the fish was tiring--but so was I. My arms were aching, and my wrist was tiring from having to twist the line in. The small reel had insufficient mechanical advantage for such a strong fish.
But we were getting better and better looks at what I had on the line. It was magnificent. The photos show the small pink lure that the fish took. The hook was initially hidden within the plastic fringe. During the battle, the hook pulled out and the lure caught on a metal swivel at the top of the leader line.
As I drew the fish ever closer, I realized I might eventually win this battle and draw the marlin close enough to capture. But this raised some important questions. How would we get such a big fish on board? And how would we kill it? We have no gaff and our fishing net looked pathetically small compared to this fish--it would hardly fit over the tail. There is no way I could lift the fish from the water using the line--it was only 25 lb. test. The leader on the lure was 100 lb test, but even that seemed insufficient.
Eventually, I was able to bring the fish alongside the boat. He was about five feet long, not counting the sharp looking bill. I could also see the hook, which was lodged in the outside of the marlin's lower jaw. I realized that the hook had done no permanent damage--if I cut the line, the marlin would live. As I leaned over the side to look down at the marlin, I saw its big eye rotate up to look at me--as if it was wondering the very same thing I was--what to do next.
Claudia and I had talked over various ways to get the marlin aboard. She even broke out a hammock that we might use as a net. Ultimately it was the thought of killing and butchering this beautiful animal that detered me. We were fully provisioned. We did not need the meat and our ice box was already full. I decided to cut the line.
Using dikes, I was able to snip the leader at the top of the hook. The marlin swam with us on the surface for several seconds before realizing he was free, then dove below the boat. When I checked the clock I found it was after 6 pm. I had battled the marlin for over two hours.
We had intended to sail all the way to Isla San Francisco. After the long battle with the marlin, it was clear that we would not be able to reach the anchorage before sunset. Not wanting to enter unfamiliar territory in the dark, we decided to return to Ensenada Grande on nearby Isla Partida, where we had anchored several weeks before. It was not an ideal anchorage because the southwest coromuel winds had kicked up a swell that wrapped into the bay. We rocked and rolled all night, then continued to Isla San Francisco in the morning.
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