CALLING PATUDO!

[WAHOONBOX]

WE NEED A STORY DUDE..................WHERE THE HECK ARE YA?

AFRICA.....MED...........BALTIC..............I KNOW YOU ARE RIGGING SOMEWHERE

[Patudo]

Hiya Marty, I'm no hotshot, now not even fishing, just wishing..

Here's one from the past though, gosh just thinking about it gets the adrenalin going even now.. I remember the excitement and the heartbreak, the wonder and the pain. I'm gonna be back there for a fortnight in July, my mates have been catching them up since the last week of May, 2 fish in the 900+ class let go already. Let's hope she and I can have a rematch.

---------------

Oh yes, I've lost some really nice fish over the years (grrr).. Some that really hurt include the dorado that might well have cracked the NZ ladies record (although to be fair they don't get many big mahi there), white marlin well over the 100# mark (that's a really nice whitey) that I thought might even have hit 120 or so that was fought by a lovely French nymphette on stand up 50 in a little black and white string bikini. (pulled hook) - and the 70#++ spearfish that jumped off on a little bonito feather jig. I really wish I'd managed to catch all those fish as they were beauties.

However, the one that sticks out in my mind the most was a totally different class of fish altogether. It happened on about May 27th or maybe the 29th 2002 at about 2pm just after lunchtime. I was deckhand on the 31' Mitchell 'Our Mary' skippered by Capt. Ron Cowling out of Funchal, Madeira. Late May and June can be a funny time to fish those waters as there can be a mix of large bigeye tuna, white marlin and the big blues for which Madeira is famous, making tackle selection quite difficult as you don't quite know which will turn up on any given day. However, on that day we were targeting blue marlin, Ron's favourite fish by far. From memory we would probably have had smaller lures on the outriggers, and I know we ran a 6 1/2" d.f. peanut from the bridge on a stand up 50.

I remember well that white marlin were around in that latter half of May and just before noon fishing off the Cabo Girao cliff we raised two fish and got seven shots out of them on the peanut lure but didn't connect. The lure had been rigged with an 8/0 Mustad 7691 and 200 pound leader in case a big tuna jumped on and we later found white marlin hooked up best on an altogether smaller hook. That day the water looked absolutely gorgeous and having raised the whites it had an optimistic sort of look to it. After lunchtime we were fishing the area off Ponta da Sol where we had connected to our last fish of the previous season about a 750'er which had smashed the teaser into the air and then jumped all over the long flat line, a Big T Zulu Impi in purple and black, in one of the most spectacular strikes I had ever seen. Another Big T Zulu Impi, a new model with a slightly different head shape, in blue and white was now running on the short bait on the port side today, pushing a lot of water on the second wave like it does when swimming right. On the long flat line I had put a copy of the purple one I had made over the winter in London (I liked the head shape on that one better). That lure had a pearl shell insert in an all-clear head and was skirted with metallic blue vinyl skirts over a few strands of pink and mostly white Newell underskirt. This skirt and the lure's position adjustment helped make the lure "sit " in the water more while still pushing water on the third wave. Both lures were rigged with 700# Momoi lure leaders and 12/0 hooks connected to wind-on leaders of 500# mono.

I remember thinking how we had hooked up to our last fish the previous season here as Ron was making a pass back out towards the dropoff and a little to the east. This was the westernmost mark that we would fish this day before start making the journey home, leaving us time to fish other proven grounds. The cliffs of Ponta da Sol and the green island beyond gave the clients a sensational view but Ron and myself took little notice of this backdrop, spectacular though it was, watching the lures as they worked in the clear water of the boat's wake.

The strike when it came was not sensational. All that happened was the long flat line on the starboard side disappeared with a modest splash and the bent butt 130 on 18 pounds of trolling drag bent to the pull of an unseen fish. This was a charter boat often fishing inexperienced anglers, and the usual procedure was for the crewman to get the rod to the chair. I did that, and as I got the rod out of the holder I remember my skipper saying it could be a tuna, or a big whitey that had eaten the lure but I doubted in my heart that it either because it was a big chunky lure the fish had taken, but because I hadn't seen the fish, I didn't even dare to think to myself "blue marlin" nor at that time was my heart pounding, legs shaking like normally happens on a blue marlin bite.

Standard procedure as Ron had taught me was to get rid of the outrigger rod on the same side as the rod that was hit so that he could turn and chase the fish if needed. The angler was in his harness with the drag already put up to the strike setting, and just as I was clearing the left rigger, I looked back in the wake. I'll never forget what I saw there. It was like a huge white cloud and in the middle of it was a great black fish rampaging around in a circle. Only one fish could do anything like this, it was a blue, and a really nice one too. That fish crashed around in a complete circle shaking its head violently, and as the cloud that surrounded it disappeared it went off on a staggering run. The fluorescent Suffix Hi Vis topshot was off the reel in seconds, Ron turned the boat and drove after the fish as I got the other lines in and by now I was really shaking in earnest, literally trembling with excitement and fear that the fish would shake the hook. We had lost several blues the previous year on that meteoric first strike and the mind-blowing run and jump sequence that they make, and as the fish accelerated away to the west offshore, the line seeming to melt off that reel faster and faster, I prayed and prayed, terrified that the hooks would pull. But as I got the last outfit into the boat and got it out of the way and at last I could return to the angler I could see the rod was well bent and the fish appeared to be hooked solidly and we could now begin to fight her in earnest.

I remember so well that that fish put up the most spectacular surface performance I could ever have imagined, changing directions, running at speed and jumping, crashing through the surface with tremendous power. Every time the fish ran, Ron would spin the boat and drive after her. He did a crackerjack job of running the boat, he had owned the 'Our Mary' for many years and really knew how to make that single diesel 31' dance. But that fish tested his skill and reactions. At one stage she was speeding in front of the bow and jumped almost in front of the boat whilst line was steaming off the reel towards the back of the boat, and he had to make a fast turn to avoid running over the line. Many Madeiran fishermen say that the really big fish in the 800 pound class and bigger don't jump and run that much, that they're like big fat old girls. I think there is some truth in it, because the 950+ pounder that I wired later that season never jumped once. But the fish we were hooked to was a glorious exception to the rule. The speed and power of those blinding runs and jumps was a sight to behold. This fish did everything you dream a big blue marlin will do, it fought at such a pace, with such power and such fury that it was exhilerating yet at the same time almost frightening to behold. At one stage we had the fish off the transom on a short line and it jumped going away from the transom so high, showing its full length and size and bulk, then went crashing back into the ocean with a tremendous shower of spray as everyone shouted and screamed in excitement, before whistling off the topshot in literally seconds.

Anyway this business continued for something like 25 minutes, the fish never once stopped jumping and running. I was beginning to feel quite hopeful at the point as the fish had to tire soon from all its exertions, no fish, not even a blue marlin, could keep up a performance such as this and not tire. When she slowed down we would be able to get on top of her and hopefully, we would have her. At the 25-minute mark we had her swimming parallel to the boat, quite quickly at about 5-6 knots, but in a straight line. We had a lot of line back on the reel. She was directly abeam of where the angler was in the chair in the back of the boat's big cockpit, the chair swivelled towards the fish, the bent butt Star 130 well bent and he was making good short pumps and recovering line well. Ron was trying to get in front of the fish so that we could work her off the left corner where Ron has the best view of the rod, reel and angler and I have the best position to wire. I was leaning against the rail, gloves dripping wet, looking at the hi vis Suffix as it cut through the water at the speed the fish and boat were travelling, expecting the wind-on leader to come out of the water any second. I couldn't see colour yet but the fish could have been not much more than one and a half boat lengths away.

And then, faster than it takes to read this sentence, the fish shot under the boat. - One moment, I was looking at the line cutting the water about 30 feet away and next moment I was shouting out and desperately trying to hold the line away from under the keel. Just as I felt the boat accelerate forward as Ron gunned the throttle, the line went horribly tight in my hands and then it broke with a sound like a rifle shot.

[Patudo]

I'll never forget that as I reeled back in shock and the angler collapsed back in the chair as the tension on the rod was released, the fish made her final jump, off the left corner, shaking her head violently to get rid of the lure, so beautiful and so furious, as if to show us her anger and temper, that she had defeated the whole boat and crew and angler, that she had won. Then she was gone forever, leaving us with the broken fluorescent strand of line waving in the breeze and our memories of her to remember her by.

---------

What the hell could we have done better? Well, maybe tried not to get so close to her that early in the fight. But it was reasonable to think she was at last settling down after that tremendous display. The move that took her under the boat happened in seconds. Sometimes I think a more powerful boat might have been able to get clear, but to be truthful, you'd have needed the reactions of a fighter pilot and the speed of a jet fighter to have gotten out of her way. I should probably have gone to the rod and reduced the drag to almost freespool instead of trying to hold the line away from the boat, but the thought didn't cross my mind then, I was desperate to keep the line from touching the boat but she had other ideas. With the benefit of hindsight, we would probably have handled it a little differently, but sometimes they just win.

The story isn't completely over yet as we caught a white marlin at Cabo Girao on the peanut lure for a consolation prize and, at about 4.30 fishing the deep hole in front of Camara de Lobos the long corner which I had re-tied a new double, looped on a new wind-on leader and set with another big blue-silver lure, went off to a 450/500 pound fish that headed across the wake and on a very fast jumping run around the port beam that I almost thought he had taken one of the lures on the opposite side. This time we went into action with no rust and fought the fish hard and fast, in 15 minutes we had his head turned and I was going to soon get the leader when the hook just pulled. The hook points came back sharp and what probably happened was the fish had been billwrapped and when his head was turned, the hook just pulled cleanly off from his bill. No we didn't catch a blue marlin that day, but that still goes down as the best fishing day I ever had. Had the season continued like that, I wouldn't be sitting in this office today, for I was ready to throw it all away and become a crewman for life that day, I really was.

[WahooKing]

Dustin

You need to write a book and put that west coast "Coconut Man" out of business.

I enjoy your writings and post...Never seen your lures but I'm sure they are A class...Maybe you can post some pics of them beauties?

Anthony

[Bert Rodgers]

Patudo seems to write my dreams.

Bert

[WAHOONBOX]

OH YES!!!!!!!!!

THIS IS WHY THE 'BOX HOLLERED FOR HIM!! ....OH YES..LEGENDS STILL LIVE TODAY

HOW DO YA LIKE HIM NOW ZANE?

OH.......................I I SEE 'KING CALLED YA "DUSTIN"

HELLO DUSTIN

[Hookone]

The man sure does make some real fish catching lures. Only on a very small scale, but they sure do the business. I can honestly say the biggest fish I have every hooked (& lost) came on one of Dustin's lures. It survived that encounter with a Blue well over the 1000# mark, but got stole away like all good lures do, a few trips later. He also got me into the resin smelling game which I do thank him for, not sure if the wife likes the smell the same though.
Tightlines,
Tim

P.S.
Ahi Slayer, that little package found it's way to you yet? Posted it in Ascension a few weeks ago via APO should be there soon.

[WAHOONBOX]

[QUOTE=Hookone]. He also got me into the resin smelling game which I do thank him for, .................................


I DO LIKE THE ORIGINALLITY OF THE ABOVE QUOTE!!! I FULLY UNDERSTAND ITS MEANING!


I CAN TELL YOU ARE INTO IT DUDE!!!!

[AhiSlayer]

Aloha Tim
Welcome back...

No parcel yet,,,I'll letcha know..
I can't wait ta see watcha came up with...

Patudo,,,Man,,,I gotta start catchin bigger fish!!!Jeez!! Lemme go read it again!

Maholo Maholo

Ahi

[CaptGorges]

While searching for something random in Google with the words "morehead city" in the string of words this post came up. What happened to posts like this?