This post is from my fishing buddy Erik who has taken me out on both his 14 ft aluminum skiff and 16 ft Livingston, and taught me how to jig three years ago and is currently teaching me how to call up the papio with poppers.  He is a very talented videographer with a huge following on Instagram (@fishoahu).

The one that Got Away.

If you’ve been fishing long enough then you have at least one story about the “one that got away.” It’s usually that “one” fish that makes us buy more/better equipment, wake up earlier, study more tides/times and keep us up at night pondering “what-if situations.” Here’s the story of my most memorable “one that got away.”

This fishing outing started early at 5:30am from my grandma’s beach house on my trusty tinboat with my friend Kekoa (who helped me land my shibi in another post). The plan was to scout the early summer papio (smaller Giant Trevally) bite. I had onboard my medium-light 8’ ugly stik rod paired to a 4000 shimano twinpower XD loaded with PE 1.5 braid FG-knotted to 25lb leader line and finished with a studio ocean mark, ocean snap swivel that I planned to throw a new bass lure that was shaped like a mouse. I got it at Bass Pro Shop while on vacation in Orlando so named it Mickey Mouse Lure since we went to Disney World for 5 days while up there. It’s actually the Live Target Field Mouse. Kekoa was using his Penn plugging rod and 6K Shimano Saragosa that he planned to throw on his yo-zuri hydro popper.

We started off fishing at a spot that was really good for us last year and lures hit the water around 6am. Kekoa was gurgling the hydro popper and I was figuring out my mouse lure while we drove into the lighter winds and drifted while casting and retrieving. After the first ½ hour without seeing a single thing in the area we ventured just outside of it and kept doing that at different depths until we covered a good majority of the general place to determine there was nothing but a couple tiny papio’s that would follow the lures to the boat. I called the spot off and headed to another spot that had been productive for me in the past. I was noticing the wind was picking up and now it was past 7:30 and we had nothing to show for our fishing trip. Our spirits weren’t dampened as we were talking fishing and enjoying being out there but our expectations were lowering as the sun was well above the horizon. Before we got to the next spot I noticed the wind had definitely picked up and was causing us to drift so fast that we could only get a few casts in before we had to motor back up to take another drift.

On a normal day I would never have started the drift where I did but I told Kekoa:
“the wind blowing us too fast so I going start here”
to which he responded:
“I don’t care, that’s how we caught the shibi by throwing in the blind.”
I laughed and said:
“you know us, make any-kine.”

Well . . . Call it fate, intuition or luck but once Kekoa started the retrieve on his first cast . . . BOOM! Shoom. Splish. whack! I watched as many as 5 papios were breaching the surface of the water in hot pursuit of his lure. I quickly aimed my mouse-lure toward the side and beyond where Kekoa was now hooked-up and I burned the lure over the top of the water as fast as I could watching its short body and long tail skim across the surface. In no time the school was on my lure chasing it down. The papio were in such rare form because they don’t usually breach until they hit the lure and this morning they were breaching while chasing the lure in a way that reminded me of dolphins breaching while swimming in a school, only faster and angrier.

Kekoa landed one around 4lbs and I landed one about 2-3lbs, we snapped pictures/videos, released one, kept one and headed back up for another drift. Same thing again, Kekoa got on first and I hooked up next. Kekoa got his in the boat and then felt what I thought was the dreaded first run of a shark that got my fish. Ugh! Kekoa asked if he should stop fishing to help and I told him “no, keep going.” I held on in anticipation of getting my line cut and Kekoa was able to land another papio. As I was holding on I was noticing the run wasn’t really feeling like a shark. I could also feel that the hook was secure in whatever was on. The unknown fish was taking line in quick-runs and was now towing the dinghy 50 feet away from where we were. This ended Kekoa’s bite and also piqued his interest as to what I had on. The fish slowed and was taking us around a reef so I maneuvered the boat to keep my line straight and away from getting cut on the reef. I made the decision to chase this fish down and try to tire it out and Kekoa was happy to oblige. I looked down at my Nixon supertide watch and the fight-time started an estimated 15 minutes prior. At this point the fish didn’t seem to mind being hooked too much as it moved slowly around wherever it wanted. I kept steady pressure as I maneuvered the boat to keep line taut. 30 minutes into the fight and we notice the fish is heading out to open ocean. At this point I know that there is a BIG fish at the end of my little pole.

Without giving away too much about where I’m fishing just know that I’m inside of Kaneohe Bay. To get out of Kaneohe bay with a normal sized boat you’d have to go out 1 of 2 channels (sampan or chinamans hat) because in between those two channels is almost 2 miles of shallow reef and our famous sandbar. Luckily my tinboat has a shallow draft so 95% of the time I’m able to get over reefs/sandbar without a problem.

45 minutes into the fight and now Kekoa has to take over driving because once we go over the reef area/sandbar, the waves/swell are not held back by it. Kekoa takes the tiller and I move toward the middle of the boat carefully. During this point water is slightly murky from the churned up sand of the wind and waves but visibility to 15 feet is ok and good in about 5-10 feet. We’ve been staying on top of the fish this entire time with hopes that it is easier to turn its head on its way up. The beast stays away from the boat and is now on top of the reef. Kekoa motors to it slowly and just as we approach it ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!!! Holy hell. The fish takes off and sends my spool in reverse peeling line at an extraordinary rate. Whatever it is I think did NOT like the look of the boat and was getting irritated at the lip pinch. I know now that the hook is very secure and max out my drag at 24lbs because the fish is taking us straight to where waves are breaking. Kekoa has gotten a good feel of how the boat moves, throttle sensitivity and shifting between drive and neutral. We chase the fish and when we’re almost to it, it takes off again at crazy speeds but now into the waves. I instruct Kekoa to let the wave pass and then thread the needle between waves to chase the fish again once it’s on the other side of the break. He completes the mission flawlessly and the fish is still playing with us. The fish goes back through the waves again! Ok, bet! Kekoa again performs well navigating us over the humps and dealing with a little white water. And now I can see Kekoa is getting close to the fish as my line nears the boat in 10-15 feet of water.

I stand up in anticipation of getting a glimpse of the monster when time stops. My eyes and mind were working in hyper-drive trying to understand what is was. No short-thick pectoral fins sticking out like shark, no dorsal fin like shark. Oh wow. Just WOW. It was a sight I’m not sure I can ever unsee. The seconds of time that replay in my mind that haunted me for a week after. The ulua was as long as my arms outstretched. It was almost half the size of the of the 14 foot dinghy I was standing in. The top of the fish was wide and looked about a foot thick. I watched in awe as it let me witness it’s trademark ulua sway (just like when we release them from the boat) right before it said bye-bye and took yet another disheartening run. Kekoa was unable to see the size of the fish but saw the silver color of it. We chased the fish and Kekoa’s quick learning kept us safe and on top of it for another hour as it took us through more waves and into 30-40 feet of water and on an approximately ¾ mile journey until I made the decision to lock the drag and break it off. After seeing the size of it and knowing it had that much energy to keep running at that rate, I felt helpless against it. Thoughts of getting to shore away from the waves, if my gear would hold up, how long would I have to wait to see if it even remotely tires were just a few thoughts going through my mind.

I felt a sense of ease when I broke my line off as I knew that it was still out there. Over 2 hours of fighting, over an hour of max drag, staying on top of the fish and still it was pulling us wherever it wanted. I was saddened but content. Kekoa and I talked about the battle and I told him:
“you must be a good luck charm because I also got my biggest shibi with you on this boat.”
Kekoa was the one to laugh now and said:
“Yeah, and we did the same thing. Just throw in the blind.”
I then smiled and quickly blurted out:
“That’s how we do! Throw in the blind. Make any-kine.”
That gave us a good laugh as we kept repeating it and saying that was now our motto. The drive back to the beach house to wash up was now one of amazement and joy and much less about heartbreak or disappointment.
I hope I get another chance to battle with that beast.