I realize this isn't the fishing forum, but thought maybe some here might enjoy it. I'd say it qualifies as big game, anyway...

Moderator, feel free to remove as you see fit.

Cheers,

KG

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I flew out of Boston headed for south Florida, with an intervening pit stop in New York. As Airi was in Manhattan for work, the timing worked out nicely for us to meet at JFK. We had time for a quick bite before heading the rest of the way down together. Jon, my dear old friend of nearly 25 years, grabbed us curbside and the three of us headed off to spend a few days with him, his lovely wife Jennifer and their two youngsters in nearby Weston.

We had planned the trip down to spend time with our friends (they’re more like family, really) with the hopes of getting out for at least a day, and maybe two, to fish. I had the idea in my head of tangling with a swordfish on an offshore, overnight charter, but due to a combination of lack of proper preparation, concerns with it being less than ideal as far as season for the fishery (swords are taken year-round, but the high season is said to be October-February), and the forecasted 15-25 knot winds, decided to scrap the sword trip altogether this time around. Drifting around in the dark amongst six footers might be some folks’ idea of fun, but not mine. Instead, we decided to casually head out to chase whatever inshore finned critters might be coaxed into biting for half a day. We inquired with a few charter captains on a strip in Ft. Lauderdale, and booked a four hour trip with one of them. We were told that the three of us could have a boat to ourselves for some extra money, if we chose to (we did) with the chance of getting into some king mackerel, dorado and maybe even luck into either a sailfish, bull or hammerhead shark. It sounded like a fun way to spend a morning, even if we wouldn’t be doing any really serious fishing.

We got to the dock before 8:00, and were informed by someone there (not the fellow that we had booked the trip with) that other anglers would be on our private charter. That was our first indication that the outfit we had chosen was something less than above board. I was adamant about us being on a private trip, not wanting to draw straws when it came time to fight fish and the like, and stated that we’d choose to cancel the trip if forced to fish with three other customers; other anglers aboard were not part of the agreed upon, and paid for, equation. Soon after, amidst some scowls and annoyed looks, we headed out not on the boat originally promised, but on an older, fairly beat-up rig leftover from some long past era, probably the 60s. It wasn’t pretty, but it floated. Our first stop was for fuel. Even though I thought it ridiculous that our fishing time was ticking away on things that should have been taken care of before we ever set foot aboard, I kept my mouth shut. However, when the next stop was made at the bait boat, the captain held his hand out and stated he’d need 75 dollars for the bait we’d be using, I started growling. There’d been no mention of any ‘bait fees’ the day prior. I glanced over at the young mate, who was grinning at the captain, but turned his back when I caught his eye. “It’s like that, huh? OK.†I said to no one in particular. Thinking to myself that I didn’t want to ruin the trip for Airi, Jon and I before it got started, I reluctantly gave up the rape fee, while making the decision then and there that no matter what we caught, there’d likely be no tips involved in this trip.

The winds were blowing at probably 15-20 knots as we cleared the jetties straddling the inlet and headed south east, kicking up a chop in the 3-4 foot range. It wasn’t particularly unpleasant for me while underway, and not at all for Jon, but soon Airi needed to lie down, feeling a bit seasick, despite her having taken the recommended dose of Dramamine earlier. I asked the Captain a few questions about how we’d be fishing and what kinds of rigs we’d be using, and was told we’d be running 4-6 baits, depending on the bite, maybe with two baits rigged on kites. I noted five Penn International II reels on deck, with two 30s, two 50s and one 80 in the holders. After perhaps a 30-40 minute steam out, the captain pulled back on the throttles and the mate rigged up four of the six-dollars-and-change-a-pop goggle eye live baits. One was sent to the bottom, one was sent out on a kite, and another two were dropped back behind the boat. A fifth rig on a massive, ancient-looking black reel sporting the top half of a king mackerel was sent to the bottom as well, some 350 feet down. The diesel engine, which belched out a great deal of noxious fumes, was then left in neutral, and so began our drift. The winds seemed to have died down some, which was nice, but even in the two foot chop Airi felt less than great.

A half hour passed, and then an hour. Nothing seemed interested in the offerings we trailed around behind us. At some point I must have dozed off, as I awoke with a start to someone yelling over the drone of the noisy diesel. Something had jumped on the bottom rig, and was peeling line from the reel. Bellows from the tower ordered for the other baits to be brought in quickly and for someone to get into the fighting chair and to get ready, but not to touch the rod. A few seconds later, he pushed the boat into gear and dumped the throttle. The hooks in the bottom bait bit into something, and that something pulled back, taking with it perhaps a hundred and a half yards line off the big, black reel. Jon signaled for me to get on the fish. I thanked him for his gracious offer to go first, got into the chair and got ready. The line slowed, but was still paying out at a pretty decent clip. From above, I heard the Captain yell, “OK, I’M GOING BACK INTO NEUTRAL. I THINK WHAT YOU’VE GOT THERE IS A PRETTY DECENT SHARK; PROBABLY A BULL OR MAYBE EVEN A SMALL T HEAD. IT’S YOU AGAINST HIM NOW. GET READY!†As an afterthought, I heard him lower his voice to ask the mate “has the Chinese guy ever fished before?†I smiled. “I used to be hell on bluegills and pumpkinseeds back in the day; will this be different?†I asked back without looking. I clipped the reel to the fighting belt, got ready and thumbed the drag up maybe half an inch from where it was set. The rod bent against the force on the other end, and the fight was on.

The fish didn’t want to give much at first, but within a few minutes I was able to begin to get in a few dozen cranks of the handle. We went back and forth for a few minutes, trading lengths of monofilament. As I’d never caught either species of shark before, I didn’t know what to expect, but found that whatever flavor was down there tended toward a slow, steady pull. It certainly was not happy about being hooked, and it was a powerful fish no doubt, but it wasn’t a fancy fighter. It was more of a steady puller; a George Foreman type of shark, if you will. No blinding speed, no fancy footwork, but certainly powerful and deserving of respect. Unfortunately, I’ll never know what kind of fish George was, as after about ten minutes of going back and forth with him, the hook pulled.

After some cursing by all, the bare rig was brought up. I never gave him any slack, that much is certain; whatever had been on had simply pulled hard enough to have gotten the hook dislodged, and won fair and square. Disappointed but happy to have felt a tug, I helped Jon and the mate rig up the baits again. One of the live bait rigs on a kite out back was switched over to the other end of the king mackerel, and once again we got settled into the wait. With perhaps an hour left of the trip, with Airi and I both a bit nauseous and dozing, I was once again awakened by the Captain’s screams. “HOLY SHIT! GET READY, GET READY, AND CLEAR THE LINES! JESUS! WE’VE GOT A GREAT GRAY ATTACKING THE KITE BAIT, 150 YARDS BACK OFF THE STARBOARD 100!†I was up from the cabin in a shot, scanning the ocean for what the captain was getting all excited about. When I saw what he saw, I staggered across the deck, or maybe my legs got a bit weak--or both. Even from 150 yards, I could see a violent attack taking place. A large shark was under the kite, slashing along the surface at what could only be our bait, cutting a frothy white gash in the seas in its wake. A word about the kite: as the wind-borne diamond blows behind the boat attached by a clip to the main line, it tends to periodically pick up and drop the bait in the water. Above and beyond the advantage of keeping that line away from the other lines near the boat, it also creates an enticing disturbance on the surface as the bait alternately dunks, dives and slaps the water’s surface. In this case, it seemed to be making the shark positively insane. Jon, the mate and I frantically worked to clear the other lines, all the while watching the awesome display of aggression on the surface. We had just gotten the second to last line in the boat when the kite popped loose from the clip and raced up into the sky. As a reward for the shark’s persistence, he had managed to devour a free meal. But then, no such thing as a free lunch, pal!

The clicker on the 80 began to scream as the fish quickly realized that something was dreadfully wrong with his free meal. I smiled at Jon and pointed to the chair. “All you, buddy!†Jon shook his head and pushed me into the chair. I began to protest, and stood up. From above the Captain’s voice cut the air once again, and screamed to the mate to get someone ready; this was a big fish, and meant money to them. “STOP DICKING AROUND AND GET SOMEONE STRAPPED INTO THAT CHAIR, NOW!â€




“You’re my guest down here, buddyâ€, Jon said quickly. “Now get pumped and get ready to take that fish’s goddamned head off!†I started giggling and for a split second our eyes met and smiled at each other, likely in the same way they used to when we were young and about to get into some kind of trouble way over our heads. Jon took off his lucky Red Sox hat and planted it on my dome. “I got that the day of your wedding reception, the day of the first game of the World Seriesâ€, he said. I looked at him and missed him maybe even more than I had for the six or seven years that had passed since his moving to Florida. A long way we’d come since running the mean streets of Boston together as kids, I thought.

The mate struggled to horse the rod out of the holder on the gunnel. Jon ran over and helped him, and between them got it jammed it into the rocket launcher between my knees. Jon got the fighting belt clipped onto the reel once again. The Captain yelled from the tower to ask the mate how we were doing on line. “NOT GOOD†the mate screamed back. “DOWN TO MAYBE 200 YARDS, AND LOSING LINE FAST!†“GET ON HIM NOW!†bellowed back the captain. I needed little encouragement, and with my thumb, jammed the drag lever forward.

Almost immediately, my body was raised out of the chair into a standing position. In a panicked moment I thought I was going over into the ocean, ass over teakettle. It occurred to me that not only could I probably not swim so well while being dragged out into the deep blue at 20 mph while subsurface, but more pressing, there was a large, angry and hungry shark still attached to me. I reacted by slamming my body back into the chair and jamming my legs against the transom as a brace. I started to say that I damned near got pulled out of the boat when I gazed back into the blue water underneath where the kite was soaring free to see something I likely won’t ever forget.

Everyone on board, including my wife, screamed their excitement as the ‘great gray T head’ launched his entire mass skyward, at least two lengths of his body out of the water. From where I was, incredulously, all I could think of was that I had hooked a thin, blue killer whale. Ever see the KWs on TV, where they jump up out of the pool like fat black rockets and take a food snack out off the trainer, who’s got it rigged on a long pole and held out off a diving platform? What we saw made the KWs little act look rehearsed and tired in comparison. From the tower once again, the Captain screamed. OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! THAT’S NO T-HEAD! THAT’S A GODDAMNED LARGE MAKO! As if on cue, and to add emphasis, once again the shark rocketed into the air, shaking its head violently as it arced a rainbow, the apex of which was again in the 15-20 foot range. Now I’ve been fishing for a lot of years—around 30, actually, and I’ve never seen anything like that. The line continued to peel off of the big golden Penn, and looking down, I got concerned that he was going to dump the reel on me; he wasn’t even slowing, much less stopping. I wasn’t even sure what kind of test we were running (I later learned it was 100 lb), but it wasn’t going to matter in under a minute. “TIGHTEN THE DRAG!â€, the captain screamed. “HE’S ALREADY GOT IT ABOUT AS CLOSE AS I’D WANT TO RISK IT!â€, the mate shouted back. “IF YOU DON’T TIGHTEN IT WE’RE GOING TO LOSE HIM ANYWAY, GODDAMNIT!†I agreed, and pushed the lever almost to its stops. The line slowed, then stopped, and in response the rod bent almost in half, vibrating like a tuning fork in my hands under the load it was being subjected to. I noticed then that my hands, arms, back and legs were beginning to warm up, and I began to wonder if I had what it takes to battle a fish as powerful as this. ‘Damned right I do’, I thought to myself. ‘My best friend and wife are aboard. I’ll never live it down if I flounder on this fish!’

“HOPE YOU’RE DOING OK DOWN THERE, ‘CUZ WE’RE GONNA’ BE HERE FOR A COUPLE HOURS IF YOU DON’T BUST HIM OFF FIRST!†Interesting words of encouragement, I thought. All hands stared out at the water. Without warning we witnessed the demon fish launch out of the water in perhaps the most spectacular display I’ll ever see in my lifetime. The head of the monster was without a doubt 25 feet above the water as he went into a double back flip, with a twist. While in the air, not a word was screamed or spoken. It was with open-mouthed silence and pure awe that we watched that beast fighting for his life. It was not until he hit the water with an enormous splash and began ripping line off anew that everyone on board unleashed a cacophony of screams and hoots.

The battle went on for perhaps an hour, with me usually able only to get in one or two cranks at a time before he blasted off for 15 or 20 seconds. Short-pumping was the only option; the fish was too strong for me to do anything but hang on and scrounge to get some line back. The Captain did a good job of backing down on the fish a bit, and when he did I was able to make some strides and get back some line. I could only hope that he was tiring as badly as I was, as I began to feel my strength really beginning to start to fade. That fish wasn’t giving anything away for free. Through it all, Jon poured water down my throat and wiped my brow with a bait rag. Visions of Burgess Meredith coaching Rocky swam in my head; I half expected Jon to tell me that I’d ‘hooked into a wreckin’ ball, and that if I didn’t start to do sumptin’ quick, that the fish was going to murder a bum like me!’ Adrian, I mean, Airi shouted words of encouragement from the tower. I dug deep, and did my best to win back some line.

It was only a little over an hour into the fight when I began to get tired, very tired. My arms were cramping up, and I noticed that on my right hand I had lost a patch of skin on my palm the size of a quarter where the knob on the handle had rubbed it off. I was focusing hard on just establishing a rhythm, and to myself I talked myself through the fight. ‘Pull hard, pull harder! When you feel a little give, drop the rod fast and reel like a bastard, as hard as you can.’ It was almost as if I went into a sort of trance; trying to ignore the pain and fatigue. At some point I looked up and I could see the fish just subsurface, less than 75 yards off the stern. “JESUS CHRIST; HE’LL GO BETTER THAN NINE FEET AND 500 POUNDS EASY! DON’T YOU LOSE THAT GODDAMNED FISH, SPORT! GET THE FLYING GAFF AND THE BANG STICKS READY!â€

Time has a way of blurring itself when adrenaline kicks in, and I don’t exactly remember the series of events in a gospel sense, but I do know that we had a quick discussion about what I wanted to do with the fish. When it surfaced near the boat perhaps some 30 feet, I could see that blood was pouring out of its gills.



Between some dialogue between the mate and me, the fish bleeding, my wanting to both have some mako steaks and have the jaws to mount, I decided to kill the fish after getting a quote of $1500-2000 tops for a full taxidermy mount. My reasoning was that I didn’t know if I’d ever have the chance to even land a mako again, much less one of this size, and more importantly, the fish appeared to be grievously injured, with copious amounts of blood pouring now from both sides of the gills. What good would it be cut off the exhausted, bleeding fish now, only to have it die? Within a few minutes, the battle played out close behind the boat. Three times I got the line in so the mate could hand wrap the leader to pull the beast in closer, and three times the fish streaked off a hundred yards or better. When I’d get him back in close, with the leader showing, the fish would raise his head and thrash about violently, gnashing his teeth and snapping his wicked looking jaws open and shut.




I was amazed to see that the fish was an incredible bluish-purple. ‘Oh, my! I’m dancing with a purple people eater!’ I thought to myself. The fish seemed to glare at me personally, with a look that seemed to me to say that it meant to kill us all, if it could. I’ll be the first to admit it: that fish scared me. The fourth time that I got the leader to the rod tip and in the mate’s glove, the fish was tired and close enough to get a shot with the flying gaff at him, and while sloppily executed, the mate managed to get a hook in the fish. Within a few minutes, the coup de grace, in the form of a 12 gauge shotgun shell load (Remington 2.75â€, 1 oz. #8s, by the way) , was administered. After the first blast to the head, the fish went berserk again, but only for a short time.

The next time the fish surfaced, the Captain bashed him again with the bang stick. And with that, the fight ran out of that mighty fish. I unclipped myself from the reel and set it in the holder. Jon and I each grabbed a gaff and put steel to him, but we saw immediately that the fish wasn’t going to fit through the door, but we’d cross that bridge when we got to it. The noble fish had indeed fought to the death. The Captain got a 1†rope behind his pectoral fins, and we tied the fish to the tower ladder. After I was certain that the fish wasn’t going anywhere, I walked to the port side and vomited for a minute straight. I was total mush at that point. Airi, clever lass, had been taking pictures throughout the battle, including one of my puking. I later realized that when I was leaning over board I lost Jon’s lucky cap, damn it all! It took another 30 minutes or more to figure out how to deal with the big mako. We originally had assumed we would simply haul it aboard; fat chance. The four of us strained and pulled for all we were worth, but only managed to get the head and a bit of the body aboard. We managed to somehow bend the pectoral fins to get them though the door, which was tricky, as the door was only 36†or so across, and the fish’s ‘wingspan’ was closer to maybe 55â€. The dorsal fin was too tall to fit through the transom door, and though I tried to bend it to and fro to get it to fit, it was an exercise in futility.




I straddled the fish trying to get it double secured as Airi continued to snap pictures. I almost soiled myself a few minutes later, as after sitting in front of the shark’s fearsome jaws, peering at the magnificent creature, I looked into its eyes. As I got up, I saw that the fish’s black peepers were following me! I backpedaled at warp speed and yelled out that it was still alive, and everyone took a step back and used a lot more care getting close to those teeth.



The four of us yanked, pulled and strained to try to get it in the boat, and upon our failing miserably, instead tightened up the doubled up the ropes, and made for the barn. Perhaps 6 feet of body and tail hung out the back of the transom door behind the boat as we ploughed back through the waves.

Back at the dock, the fish was tail roped, and several helpers from the outfit tried to use a block and tackle to get the fish hung from the meat tower. Even when pulled right to the top, the fish’s head hung in the water. I didn’t like the whole spectacle that was being made, and we all watched from boat. When they finally swapped out the ropes and got the fish’s head up, out came the fish’s last meal, followed by a few other recent meals, including, get this—a bird of some kind! I thought it was a seagull, but the mate swore it was a pelican. I don’t know what kind it was, but it was definitely a bird. I was amazed, and half expected a license plate or human arm to follow. Alas, they did not. As there was no scale anywhere, I didn’t get a weight on the fish, although it taped out at 116 inches, and maybe a bit better. Later, looking at some length-to-weight estimates for shortfin mako, I learned that our fish was definitely a mature female, with an average weight of 643 lbs., based on the length. I don't think mine was that heavy, but it was well over 500 without a doubt, in my estimation.



Shortly after, the ugliness began. Immediately, the owners of the business wanted me to print my cc number, expiration date, and to sign off on a $4600 quote for taxidermy, and on top of that, that the fish in its entirely would have to be carted away, as it was ‘full of parasites, mercury and was poor eating anyway’. I’m not going to get into the whole mess here, but it turns out that the outfit we went with, as well as the taxidermy company they work as agents for, has been fined and indicted on a variety of fraudulent business practices and is very well known to the Florida AG. Airi and Jon, sensing that I might do something stupid, stepped in and told me that we weren’t paying, or signing anything. The name’s Tucker, not sucker.

Vito, my buddy back in Boston who I had called to ask to get online to research local taxidermists, called back around then with some very interesting information. He asked if by any chance the outfit we fished with was in any way related to a boat named the XXXX XXXX, and a taxidermy company named XXXXX. Well, co-inky-dink of co-inky-dinks! I asked him where he got his paws on a crystal ball, and he said that during a quick Google search, found hundreds of posts relating to said people, all involving big dollar fishing/taxidermy scams. Armed with this little bit of intel, I stormed back after the owner, looking to pick a fight. After a long series of arguments, I was told that the fish was no longer mine, and in essence, they didn’t give a shit what I thought was mine, and that I had to pay no matter what. So, they were trying to hold the fish hostage, as it were, until I paid for taxidermy on it, and if I wanted the fish, I had one hour to remove it from their property. If I couldn’t move it, I’d be charged $500 for a ‘toxic waste expert’ to dispose of it. “Are you shitting me?†I asked, getting more enraged by the minute. No, he wasn’t. They take their scams very seriously down in Florida, apparently. At that point, the three of us essentially told the owner and the outfit to get stuffed, and Jon hurried off with Airi to get gear to take apart and/or haul the fish away. We agreed to keep in touch via cell while I had some more base and ugly conversations with the Captain, mate and about a half dozen other employees of the scam operation. As the next half day sucker trip was scheduled to leave, the Captain and mate took the time to fling a few racial slurs at me and my party. At this time, I walked off to the adjacent parking lot, as much to get away from the hundreds of gawking, picture taking tourists as the scammers. I watched as people sat on, punched, petted and poked the fish, and I wished then that I’d not killed it; it deserved a lot better than this.

There the fish sat in the hot sun, for perhaps two hours; terrific. I paced back and forth, pissed off and thinking bad thoughts. Jon and Airi called to say that they had managed to get dollies, knives, rope, a come-along, saws (?), tarps, trash bags, hammers (?) buckets and five gallons of sulfuric acid (don’t ask-- I have absolutely no idea what the intent was there, but will say that my man Jon has a hell of a creative streak in him) but were having a hard time finding a trailer to rent, as it was Sunday. I decided then that I was going to start taking the fish apart myself, but I didn’t have any tools. I walked over to the next dock over, and asked a guy if I could borrow a large knife. “Funny request, I know!†I told him, but offered my license as collateral. He said that he couldn’t offer me any of the boat tools, but that he’d let me borrow his pocket knife, if I wanted, as long as I promised to return it. I looked down at the slightly rusted Swiss Army knife, and almost declined, but changed my mind. This was going to be interesting indeed. I called Airi and told her to forget about the trailer, and just to come back for me.

Armed with a whopping 3 inches of folding blade and a very bad attitude, I cut through the crowd of perhaps 50 people with a determined look on my face, I’m sure. Without a word to anyone, I knelt down and violently thrust the knife into the beast’s throat, and began sawing. The crowd thinned out pretty quickly after that. Now, if you’ve ever felt shark skin before you’ll know what’s coming next. After the first cut, I found I had reduced my very small, but pretty sharp weapon into a small, extremely dull weapon. Not much of a quitter (thanks, Dad!), I kept after it. Pretty soon, I was up to my armpits in gore, and getting frustrated in being unable to cut through the cartilage and neck vertebrae, which were about as big around as Airi’s bicep.

I took a quick break to catch my wind and rest my limp arm muscles, and saw that I had many scowling dock types looking at me with disdain. I overheard a couple cute Chinese sharkfin soup comments fly my way, which I uncharacteristically ignored. After my wee rest, I began savaging the beast with my butter knife with a renewed vigor. I must have been quite a sight indeed. At some point, I decided that I had done all I could with the butter knife, and turned to jump on one of their other boats to look for a better tool. I found a large knife, and temporarily liberated it from its place on board. At that point the owner approached me cautiously, and said that he was sorry, but would really need his $500. I told him to stay the fuck away from me, and meant it. He stormed off back to his gaggle of flunky reinforcements. With the little time I figured I had left, I struggled and managed finally to cut through just about all the soft tissue keeping the head attached to the shark’s body, except for that tough spinal vertebrae. In a last ditch effort, I lay down next to the shark, grabbed his head, and began my own version of a Floridian alligator death roll. Bear in mind that my stiffening friend had begun leaking considerable blood and other fluids from the mouth, which I was now lying in. Man, how can anyone not love these relaxing Florida fishing vacations?

An unseen pair of hands then began to assist me, and I looked up to see a stranger with a smile; the first one I’d seen in hours. Turns out he was a Russian tourist who liked fishing, and was offering his help. I gladly accepted, and soon after, I had the head off. The Russian and his buddy then asked me politely if they could have some fish, and I told them that they absolutely could, as long as they cut it off themselves. They got started on that, and I took a minute to return the borrowed knife, after washing it. I offered a few bucks to the guy who loaned it to me as an apology, but he said that it watching me fight that dead mako was payment enough (apparently curiosity forced him to follow me as I wandered off with his property).

At this time, I approached the owner, who demanded that I pay him the $500 he said I owed him, as the time was up for the removal of the fish and the people that he paid were on their way. Very frankly, had I been in a better position, I’d have fought him tooth and nail, but as it happened, I was alone, outnumbered, in a city I knew nothing of, and totally wiped out physically. I told the man what I thought of him, his mother and her horse, and paid him, with the promise that he would rue the day I ever ran into him again. And with that, I hoisted the 50 lb head up to my chest, and staggered off down the main street with it to wait for Airi and Jon. I didn’t go far, but laid down in the grass adjacent to a parking lot nearby, and promptly fell asleep.

I awoke with a start to my phone ringing. It was Airi, calling to say that they were only ten minutes out. I told them where to pick me up, and stood up to see if the shark was still there. Some of it was, but not all. I walked closer, and was stunned to see that the mako had been filleted, and a brisk business was being conducted, as in being sold to tourists at five bucks a pound! I said it earlier, but I’ll repeat it: Florida takes its scamming very, very seriously! I took a few pictures with Airi’s phone, and was seen by the owner. Clearly, he had mistakenly thought I’d left. Immediately, I pounced. “Boy, those toxic waste management folks sure look strangely like touristsâ€. Silence was his response. “You can look forward to hearing from the AG; I’ll be calling him later today. Also, if you frequent any of the many fishing and hunting chat boards, I’m going to make you famous. You may have gotten me for $500, but I promise you I’m going to cost you many, many times that in lost business. I am going to roast your rotten fucking guts on the web. Instead of me telling a tale of a most grand day fishing, where a happy customer spreads the word about what a great time was had, I’m going to make it my mission to tell tens of thousands of folks to avoid you and your outfit like the plague. You read me?†And with that, he offered me to take as many filets as I wanted. I spat on his shoes and walked off. Airi and Jonny pulled up then, and off we went.

I’m grateful to Airi and our dear friends Jon and Jen, as always, for their wonderful hospitality. Chalk up one more adventure to add to the memories! It wasn’t exactly what I’d imagined for my first mako fight, but in looking back I’ll only smile and recall the good stuff. As I’m able I’ll defrost the shark’s head, which lives now in our game freezer, and have a replica mounted full-body. I’ve already got an expert shark taxidermist in CT that knows it will be coming. Fingers remaining crossed for the day I look across a bar room to see some of my old friends from the XXXX XXXX. There may be a use for that saw, rope, hammer and sulfuric acid after all…

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Just got the old girl back this week. Lousy pic that doesn't do the fish proper justice, but I think offers an idea of the size. It was pretty funny seeing the looks on some folks' faces coming back from CT on the highway with the shark riding shotgun.

I have but one thing to say:

DAMN!!!

What a great write up.

Those Makos look like mini great whites.

Great experience, thanks for sharing.It is a 'hunting ' story since a 12 Ga was used though #8 doesn't seem appropriate !

True enough, but it sure did a number on that seagull/pelican...

Cool!

Damn Kamo!

I am sorry to say this but it seems like each of your stories always has something bad in it!


Whether it be helping an old man get his moose out of a bog or getting screwed out of a Mako!


But like your other stories, Excellent Writeup! And what a beautiful animal!


Justin

Thanks, bud. What I lack in experience I try to make up for with enthusiasm! Yeah, that's it.

Hellofa fish KG! Too bad about the jackass but what comes around, goes around. I wanna see a pic of your mount when you get it finished. I've done a lot of saltwater fish in my time and do the FL fishing deal a couple of times a year. If they keep reducing the limit in FL, I'll move over the LA or TX. Heading for DE this summer to try the Tuna thing. Like you, I'm into the Ocean fishing. Good story! David

You get into tuna, you're going to get into an expensive hobby. Fishing ~30 miles south of Martha's Vineyard couple years back, we put 13 bluefins in the boat. Worst thing that could have happened , but good God, that sashimi was the best I've ever had, and I've lived in Japan for several years. In addition to all the other fish we chase, tuna is now in the top slot for most sought after up here. Problem is, a day's drag can run $500-$1000 for fuel alone. But when a big bluefin knocks lines down, who gives a crap?

Cheers,

KG

KG,

Too bad the charter turned ugly at the end after a catch like that.

If it was me, I'd probably file a complaint with the Florida Wildlife Commission and the BBB in that area. Wouldn't hurt to file a complaint with whoever runs the Marina the guy puts out of as well. I'd also consider writing to the local paper down there and seeing if they would put it on the editorial page.

Some boats do everything in their power to keep the big money fish in their hands so they can sell them to the markets. Mako is worth a couple bucks a pound wholesale and they want to profit off the tourists. A local would have pitched the charter skipper and his mate into the harbor if they tried that.

File complaints everywhere and hit the bastard in his pocketbook.

Mac

Damn!!! Great story!!! All I can say is it sure is a good thing that did not happen to me because by the end of the day I for sure would have been in jail waiting for someone to post my bond!!!!!

Having been there and done that in the past, I've learned spending the night in the clink isn't worth it. Would it have been fun, and right? You bet, but I'm not going to lose my hunting over $500 (A&B is a felony). Sometimes, it's best to just walk away, and hurt them from afar, especially, as Mac pointed out, in the wallet.

My shark full-body will be ready inside 3 months, for $1800, BTW.

Cheers, and thanks for the nice comments, y'all.

Great fish mate

Is this the boat? If so you might want to email them a link to this thread so they understand there are consequences to screwing with people.

http://missgalefishing.com/

Is this the taxidermy outfit? Fellow A-R poster Mike Smith and I had a real good day of fishing in Hawaii and Mike caught a blue marlin that he wanted to have some taxidermy work done with. As I recall he had a lot of difficulty with this outfit too. Hopefully Mike can confirm and provide details.

http://www.graytaxidermy.com/

As I'm undergoing a dispute resolution with my cc company, I'm staying mum (and have deleted the names for now). I am done contacting and trying to deal with any more scamming thieves. Once my thing is settled, then I'll continue acquiring my pound of flesh every damned place I can find fishermen and hunters. For a little backround, however, have a look see at the posts below. Sound familiar?

http://www.taxidermy.net/forums/FishTaxiArticles/02/f/027B595833.html

http://www.taxidermy.net/forums/BeginnersArticles/RF0PYF.html

http://outdoorsbest.zeroforum.com/zerothread?id=511289

There are many, many more posts just like mine. Unfortunately, many got burned for far more than I did.

A few mako facts, pics and other interesting tidbits I found at:

http://www.newenglandsharks.com/shortfin.htm

I'm not so sure mine was a female after all. Any fish/marine biologists here that can shed any light, based on any of the pics?

Cheers,

KG

It's a female, no claspers on the pelvic fin, which would be very apparent on a big mako.

MAC is right, they were gonna sell that shark to a processor.

garry, don't worry, the AG is very enthusiastic about going after this particular taxidermist and their "sales tactics:". it is after all illegal in the US to force you to agree to taxidermy while fighting a fish or holding it at the boat. legally, you have to be on the dock. i caught my striped marlin in cabo, where the practice is still legal. get in contact with the broward county attourney general and tell him what happened. he's a serious guy about dealing with them. good luck and what a fish! also, take a look at kingsailfishmounts. they are good guys and know all about their "competition"

quote:

Originally posted by Skinner.:
It's a female, no claspers on the pelvic fin, which would be very apparent on a big mako.

MAC is right, they were gonna sell that shark to a processor.

Thank you for the insight, Skinner.

Thanks for the heads up on these clowns, if someone ever mentions Grays Taxidermy to me I will run like hell!! And congrats on a great fish, to bad you had to be put through that bullshit and I hope you get your money back.

Good write up, but to avoid problems the shark should have been cut loose when you got him to the boat. Anyone chartering a fishing boat should clear the air about what is to be kept and what is to be released before a line is ever put in the water.

"Anything edible that you bring to the boat you can take away with you. We'll filet and and can have it boxed up for you, if you want" Those were the words spoken to me the day we booked the trip.

I'm all for catch and release, and do so often. Just why should I have cut it loose, particularly in light of the fish gushing buckets of bloods from the gills? Be interested to hear your logic.

quote:

...good luck and what a fish! also, take a look at kingsailfishmounts. they are good guys and know all about their "competition"

Thanks, 724. They're well known everywhere, it seems. When I brought the head to my taxi guy in CT, who I'd never spoken to before, but came highly recommended from my regular bird guy, I started off telling him that an outfit tried to scam me out of...he stopped me mid-sentence, and said, "Another fellah has met an agent from Gray's, I'll bet my lunch today. How'd I do?"

I never even mentioned what state I was in, and he guessed it the first time. Bastards, the lot of them.

Too bad about the BS. Nice fish.

That taxidermy has been a problem for years. My 23 year old son caught a dolphin when he was 5 that we wanted to mount. We had the same kind of BS with Gray's.

FYI, in the last 30 days another large mako was "caught" off a Gulf coast beach near my mothers house. It weighed in excess of 1,000 pounds.

Some guys ling fishing spotted it. It had apparently killed a porpoise (spelling). They snagged it with a snatch hook. They managed to get close and hit it in the gills with a flying gaff which killed it reasonable quickly but not before it almost sunk the boat.

Although it was large enough,I can't imagine that it will qualify for the IFGA record but who knows.

Kamo
A&B is not what I would have gone to jail for because you are right it is not worth it. I would have been in jail for exposure because when I found out he was selling the shark to people I would have walked up and taken a piss on what was left of the shark. Sales would have dropped to zero real fast. Exposure is usually not a felony and the fine is usually pretty small. In this case the fine would be worth it.

Well that's an imaginative thought. Not my style, however. I have a friend who in high school, a very long time ago, was walking home after too many beers. He stopped in a park to take a leak, and was seen by a cop, who said that he thought the kid was jerking off, and charged the fellah with open gross and lewd conduct, or somesuch. He later pleaded guilty, just to get the nonsense over with. Big mistake. Years later he found that as a result he could never obtain a firearms license, considered to be an 'unsuitable person' and furthermore, that he was registered as a class 3 (I think that's the designation) sex offender. No thanks. That fish, having sat in the sun for that many hours, was going to taste like it was pissed on anyway. Shark needs to be iced quickly after being killed, otherwise ammonia builds up, and makes it virtually inedible anyway*. I'm sure the tourists that purchased pieces of my fish found that out for themselves sitting down to dinner that evening.

Cheers,

KG

*Dogfish and Sharks, from

http://www.seagrant.sunysb.edu/SeafoodTechnology/Handli...gYourCatchPartVI.htm


Sharks are well known for their razor-sharp teeth and aggressive eating habits, but they are often overlooked as food. Inshore anglers are not likely to encounter large sharks, but they are quite likely to hook a dogfish or other small shark. A considerable amount of confusion and myth is associated with different kinds of sharks, not all of which are used for food. Six types of sharks visit mid-Atlantic coastal waters regularly: the common hammerhead, the Atlantic mako, the sand shark, the smooth dogfish, the spiny dogfish, and the sandbar shark. Offshore anglers may encounter larger species, such as blacktip, blue, and thresher sharks. The mako shark, sandbar shark, spiny dogfish, and smooth dogfish are the most commonly encountered species used for food.

Sharks are Elasmobranch fish. Their skeletons are made of cartilage instead of bones. Because sharks must swim continually to stay afloat and obtain oxygen, they die quickly out of the water. They also differ from bony fish in that they maintain a high concentration of urea, a metabolic waste product, in their bodies. After the shark dies, urea can quickly degrade to ammonia, causing shark meat to develop off odors and flavors.

Dogfish are the most common edible sharks found close to the shore in northern and mid-Atlantic waters. Their low, flat teeth, which they use to crush and grind, make them easy to distinguish from other sharks, which have the notorious razor-sharp teeth used for biting and tearing. The handling information presented in this section refers specifically to dogfish. They are abundant, useful as food, and less likely than other sharks to cause injuries. Handle other sharks in a similar manner to ensure a good-quality catch. In all cases, however, give the highest priority to safety considerations. Two species of dogfish- the smooth dogfish and the spiny dogfish- inhabit the coastal areas of the middle and northern Atlantic states.

The smooth dogfish moves inshore during the summer months, and the spiny dogfish is more abundant when the water cools. The smooth dogfish grows to three or four feet and feeds on shellfish and crustaceans. It is often mistakenly called a sand shark because it is found near beaches or sandbars in the summer. The spiny dogfish is similar to the smooth dogfish and averages four feet in length. It can be distinguished from smooth dogfish by the rows of small white spots on its side and by the two sharp spines that protrude in front of its large dorsal or back fins. Spiny dogfish feed on small fish as well as shellfish and are most often encountered during winter cod fishing trips.

Land dogfish with care to minimize damage to the fish and to avoid injury. Be careful of the spiny dogfish's spines; they may be slightly poisonous and can cause painful wounds. Stun dogfish and bleed them immediately by cutting off the tail. As soon as the tail is cut off, gut and dress the fish.

Adequate ice is essential to preserve the quality of dogfish. Surround dressed dogfish completely with ice to preserve its flavor and to prevent the flesh from developing an ammonia flavor. Unless dogfish are properly chilled to prevent bacterial growth, strong ammonia smells and flavors can develop rapidly. If you cannot process your catch immediately, ice down the whole fish and dress it as soon as possible.

Before freezing or preparing fresh dogfish, cut fillets away from the cartilage backbone or cut the fish into steaks. Because ammonia flavors may develop, it is widely suggested that dogfish meat be soaked to neutralize minor taints. A brine or acid solution- vinegar, lemon juice, or milk- is often used to marinate dogfish and leach out any ammonia that may be present. Soak the fish in milk if it will be deep fried and in lemon juice if it is to be broiled. The marinating time will vary; larger fillets or pieces require longer soaking.

If an ammonia smell is detected, it is also a good idea to soak dogfish meat before freezing it. Properly handled dogfish, however, should not develop ammonia or other off flavors, and soaking should not be necessary. Dogfish is widely consumed in England as the fish in "fish and chips."

quote:

Originally posted by larryshores:
Too bad about the BS. Nice fish.

That taxidermy has been a problem for years. My 23 year old son caught a dolphin when he was 5 that we wanted to mount. We had the same kind of BS with Gray's.

FYI, in the last 30 days another large mako was "caught" off a Gulf coast beach near my mothers house. It weighed in excess of 1,000 pounds.

Some guys ling fishing spotted it. It had apparently killed a porpoise (spelling). They snagged it with a snatch hook. They managed to get close and hit it in the gills with a flying gaff which killed it reasonable quickly but not before it almost sunk the boat.

Although it was large enough,I can't imagine that it will qualify for the IFGA record but who knows.

Sorry to hear of you and your boy's issue with Gray's, but unfortunately it's par for the course, I have learned. Thanks for your comments, though. People need to stay away from these thieves.

As far as IGFA, they're not going to get any joy, if it happened the way you indicate. First, it wasn't taken with rod and reel, and second, eligible fish may not be chased at a kill site (such as a whale carcass), and fought stand-up as well, I think.

On one of the links I posted above, you can see the record fish, as well as a few more true-life monsters. Taken in MA, BTW. "Rah, rah!" said the home town fan.

******************************************

The IGFA record for mako is On July 27, 1999, Capt. Kevin Scola on the left, and angler Billy Silvia on the "Survival", took on rod and reel, a 1,324 pound mako in Mass. Bay at Stellwagen Bank. They brought the mako into their homeport Green Harbor, Marshfield Mass. It was weighed the following day.

I saw the fish intact, and it was enormous. It was 11 foot 2 inches to the fork and 96 inches in girth. It will not qualify as an IGFA record, because the fish was fought out of the rod holder. This 1,324 pounder is a new Mass. State rod and reel record.

The IGFA world all tackle rod and reel mako record is another Massachusetts mako weighing 1,221 lbs.

Photo - Belsan's Bait and Tackle, Scituate Mass.

Great catch and a bum ending to a great story.

I'll never forget the guy at the dock in Hawaii who had just caught a 400+ lb Blue Fin and the Charter Captain wouldn't let him keep 1 steak from it. What a joke.

This is a once in a lifetime fish and yes it is a shame to have let her lie on the shore in the sun.

All anyone needs anymore is the dimensions of a fish and as most taxidermists use fiberglass moulds for the fish. You can order mounts from a number of places including King Sailfish Mounts.

The best fishing in the USA occurs off North Carolina. When you catch fish you keep them. Very large fish or fish with worms are often given to the local fish house. An Angler cannot legally sell his fish.

Apart from the tip you give the Mate, 10-20%, there are no extra fees. The boats are fueled and ready to go, there is fresh bait on board and the tackle is in good to excellent shape. Your captain may be an old salt or a nice guy. Price is higher than Florida but in Florida the chances of a boat ride are 9 in 10 and out of Oregon Inlet 1 in a 100.

In Hawaii the standard practice is that you keep a small portion of your catch the rest stays with the boat. Captains there sell marlin and tuna for a high price.

$5.00 per pound for Mako is cheap. If he was selling the meat for cash the IRS would be interested as would Florida Fish and Game.

Pointing this scam out to sportsmen that surely fish is a good thing.

If I may clarify something: today it is the norm to use a "fiberglass" replica for most saltwater fish as the results are superior to skin mounts. Over time skin mounts tend to leach grease out of all remaining bones. This includes the skull, jaws, fins and tail areas. Skin mounts can crack or produce "scale bubble" which is where the fish wasn't completely dried before sealing and painting, causing the scales to rise up. Forget repairing a skin mount that fell off the wall. They are usually too damaged to repair economically. Replica mounts last as long as we do. They can be repaired and repainted if needed. When I was in the profession, my clients had three choices: 1. Replica based on their measurements. The fiberglass "blank kit" was ordered from a supplier (least expensive, but not cheap) 2. I made a cast of their fish and created the replica from their fish (getting more expensive) 3. On some, but not all, I would except actual fish for skin mounts (most expensive). KG got hosed, no question. I admire him for standing up to them and giving them the gig in the long run. I'm very familiar with this scam and the offenders. Remember those names! What a way to ruin a trip of all trips, but she will look awesome hanging on the wall. LDK

Pic added. She looks the balls on my wall. Wife happens to be in NYC at work for a couple weeks, but paraphrasing/stealing a line from Quint of Jaws fame, 'she's gonna' have a heart attack when she sees what I brung her!'

KG

Love the mount KG!

I bet it was a sight to see with you going down the road, fish in tow

Beautiful mount! What ever happened with the charter owner, were you able to prosecute them?

gary, i don't recall, but were you forced to use Gray's? glad to see you got a great mount, just hope it wasn't too much of a headache.
heath

Nice fish, and I'm sorry you had to put up with all the BS.

I used to shark fish with Capt Mark Sampson here in MD (he used to fish winters in FL as well). He is one of the most knowledgeable, honest, and decent men you'd ever want to associate with. Truly one of the best out there.

Thanks, guys. I'm very happy with the mount. I think it's very well done. It also was almost $3000 *less* than the price Gray's price sheet indictated, if you can believe that.

So Ann, nope. After that fooking fiasco, I'd never give them my business. Ever. I had an outfit out of CT do it for me, one recommended to me by my bird taxidermist, called Northeast Taxidermy out of Middletown. They do very nice work on fish and mammals. Quite a lot of African stuff, as well as N/A critters. A few shots from me walking around the shop:

Helluva' deer.









And what the shark looked like before heading back to Boston. We're gonna need a bigger truck! Apologies once again to the cast of Jaws.

Great mount, after looking at it and the other fish in the shop, I need a fish! Looks like he does great work. Thanks for sharing the entire story!

Awesome story. Magazine worthy. Great mount too. Got any pics of the mount on your wall?

I just recently was bit with the big fish bug. Always been a freshwater bass fisherman, then went offshore with my uncle. AWESOME. My uncle is getting a bigger boat, 28' to 50 something, I am PUMPED for more. Tasty too.

Are you right in the city, Kamo?

Hi Storm,

Thanks for the comments. Look for PM.

KG