Splash
| The first time, the gigantic striper was seen frolicking with a pod of bottle nosed dolphin, it was cruising the beach in a deep trough between the second and third sand bars. The wading surf fishermen had never seen a striper of such enormous proportions. So taken aback were they, that none of them ventured a cast toward the monstrous linesider. They nervously watched in awe as it swam and played with the dolphins. Within seconds, the show was over. The cresting breakers had erased all signs of the striped bass and its bottle nosed companions. Following the sighting, The Big Surf Tackle Shop was abuzz with rumor and excitement. Each angler had a different take on what he or she had witnessed. One account proclaimed that the striper was larger than any whale that ever swam in the ocean, including Moby Dick. Another estimated the distance between the black stripes on the fish to be at least two feet. One old timer wasn't sure what he had seen, but he was positive that the "big one" would never be taken by a rod and reel. Striper stories continued to become more profound with each narrative. The next morning found the beach elbow to elbow with surf casters. The weapons aimed toward the ocean and the rising sun were heavy duty rods, not the buggy whip-like fresh water sticks or other ultra-light tackle. Disappointingly, there were now no signs of dolphin pods or super sized stripers. However, the whereabouts were soon discovered when a Mayday broadcast was heard blaring from the VHF radio of a nearby jeep. It seemed that the striper had been hooked by an angler fishing from a fifty-two-foot charter boat. After a prolonged battle, the big fish was brought close enough to be stabbed with a flying gaff. The fish jumped sky high and landed squarely on the transom. Upon impact, the splintered vessel immediately began to take on seawater. The striper thumped free and made its way back into the ocean. Soon there were reports on the ship-to-shore frequency that two boats were fighting the same huge fish. The super striper, now known as "Splash," had attacked a bait from yet another charter boat. A fierce battle raged as it took the line and headed in the direction of the second boat. On the way, it hit a lure being pulled by the other vessel and the two boats were now connected to the same fish at the same time. Both captains tried to maximize the leverage of two rods fighting one monstrous fish, but it was useless. The drag on one reel burned up and the one hundred and twenty-pound test line parted. The weary crew on the first boat battled the big one for another three hours before the fish changed directions and charged the boat. The captain gunned both engines to avoid a collision. The fish rocked the boat as it bolted by and the shaken angler lost his rod and fell from the fighting chair. "Splash" was again free to swim and frolic. News about "Splash" spread quickly. Surf fishermen from the Pacific coast and boat captains from as far away as Nova Scotia appeared on the coastline. The biggest striper tournament of the year was scheduled to take place over the weekend, and the ruckus over "Splash" had created the entry of more than ten thousand boats. On day two of the tournament, the radio silence was broken by the captain of the charter boat, "Water Chicken." "FISH ON!" was heard across the airways. From the excitement in his voice, everyone knew that "Splash" had been hooked. Fishing boats converged on the area to see the "Water Chicken" fight the striped monster. Linesiders are not known to jump, but this one sent streams of water skyward each time its paddle like tail pounded the surface. "Chicken John," the boat's captain, urged other fishermen to stay clear. The epic battle was viewed by all with binoculars. Eighteen hours into the fight, "Splash" showed no signs of tiring. At one point, the hooked fish swam off to starboard, where it consumed a dozen or so twenty pound king mackerel. With renewed energy, it sounded and the drag on the big reel began to smoke. Yard after yard of line peeled off until the metal of the spool began to show. "Chicken John" put the engines in full reverse. The tug of war continued until "Splash" finally appeared to be weakening. The angler was able to regain line and within minutes the spool began to fill. Captain "Chicken John" was smiling for the first time since the fish saga began. The mate then glanced at the G.P.S. and realized they had been pulled into a restricted-military zone. Within minutes, a nuclear submarine surfaced off the stern of the "Water Chicken." Sensing that it was being cornered, the big fish made a beeline toward the sub. The reel screamed as the line once again pulled against a smoking reel. The line snapped and "Splash" was loose. The free-swimming fish continued on a course headed straight to the sub. The commander, thinking he was under attack, ordered a laser-guided warhead to be fired. The underwater projectile was on target. The explosion created a giant water spout that spewed water and pieces of "Splash" for miles over the ocean's surface. The old timer was right when he positively said that the big fish would never be taken by a rod and reel. The "Water Chicken" survived the blast and is plying the ocean today. But, Captain "Chicken John" has not been seen or heard from since. Rumor has it that he is recovering from fright in an asylum in Northwest Idaho. ...........Be reminded that small fish have large Tales! Captain Gus Gustafson of Lake Norman Ventures, Inc. is a member of the Southeastern Outdoor Press Association and a full time Professional Fishing Guide on Lake Norman, NC. Visit his web site, Fishin' with Gus! at http://www.fishingwithgus.com/ or call 704 617 6812. For additional information, e-mail him at Gus@LakeNorman.com. |
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