Philosophical Question
Yesterday was destined to be an "off" day considering it the On Again/Off Again bite as of late, and it certainly did not disappoint, me nor two other colleagues. Between the 3 of us, there were 9 or 10 disinterested follow the plug events and one brief hookup. In my normal stubborn mode, I continued fishing as the 2 others heeded the increased volume and frequency of the thunder and headed back to their respective home docks.
Just as the thunder really started booming and I considered it might be prudent to head home, something I was being reminded about since my cell went off with the ring tone from "the Admiral" at fleet operations who was probably telling me that I should be heading home, a huge wake came directly at my plug and Moby Dick just crashed it!! The fish was clearly one of the top 3, if not the biggest I've ever caught since moving to Maine, and after a brief splashing event on the surface of the 4' deep water, it decided it was time to get to deeper water. My boat was directly in the path of that so there I was reeling like a madman, as the fish raced to the boat and once past, it continued running with a screaming drag as fast as possible for a good cast and half past the boat. Since there were no dangerous obstructions anywhere near to me, I even backed off the drag a bit as the fight now turned into the classic slug fest of run 20 or so feet, pump it back, and repeat.
This went on for a good 4 or so minutes and then the battle turned as the runs stopped and it was the endgame of slowly, and carefully gaining the lost line. My heartrate returned to near normal levels and I glanced around to check if the net was within range to grab when needed, and then it happened, I felt the fish roll and the hook pop out!! I won't bore you with the torrent of obscenities that I felt necessary, but the one that comes to mind me was my plaint of Why the F*&K do I do torture myself this way?????
As I do a post mortem of this event, I'm content in that there were no equipment failures, nor angler errors. A failed knot, faulty drag or slack line would have driven me crazy. Further reflection makes me consider that it was close to landing the fish, which has its own set of inherent risk when fishing alone, but after that I would have had to wrestle the fish out of the net, unhook it and then measure it, and consider further things like weighing it and a quick photo, prior to a good 5 minute revival session, as there's no doubt that this was a "way over", probably over the length of my yard stick.
Therefore the philosophical question: should I be grateful as I can rationalize this as a partial win by considering I got the best part of this battling a large fish experience since I was able to enjoy the hunt and ensuing battle, while it won its freedom without extreme, trauma? Alternatively, should I continue to brood over a bitter loss since I was unable to learn exactly how large this fish was?
Yesterday was destined to be an "off" day considering it the On Again/Off Again bite as of late, and it certainly did not disappoint, me nor two other colleagues. Between the 3 of us, there were 9 or 10 disinterested follow the plug events and one brief hookup. In my normal stubborn mode, I continued fishing as the 2 others heeded the increased volume and frequency of the thunder and headed back to their respective home docks.
Just as the thunder really started booming and I considered it might be prudent to head home, something I was being reminded about since my cell went off with the ring tone from "the Admiral" at fleet operations who was probably telling me that I should be heading home, a huge wake came directly at my plug and Moby Dick just crashed it!! The fish was clearly one of the top 3, if not the biggest I've ever caught since moving to Maine, and after a brief splashing event on the surface of the 4' deep water, it decided it was time to get to deeper water. My boat was directly in the path of that so there I was reeling like a madman, as the fish raced to the boat and once past, it continued running with a screaming drag as fast as possible for a good cast and half past the boat. Since there were no dangerous obstructions anywhere near to me, I even backed off the drag a bit as the fight now turned into the classic slug fest of run 20 or so feet, pump it back, and repeat.
This went on for a good 4 or so minutes and then the battle turned as the runs stopped and it was the endgame of slowly, and carefully gaining the lost line. My heartrate returned to near normal levels and I glanced around to check if the net was within range to grab when needed, and then it happened, I felt the fish roll and the hook pop out!! I won't bore you with the torrent of obscenities that I felt necessary, but the one that comes to mind me was my plaint of Why the F*&K do I do torture myself this way?????
As I do a post mortem of this event, I'm content in that there were no equipment failures, nor angler errors. A failed knot, faulty drag or slack line would have driven me crazy. Further reflection makes me consider that it was close to landing the fish, which has its own set of inherent risk when fishing alone, but after that I would have had to wrestle the fish out of the net, unhook it and then measure it, and consider further things like weighing it and a quick photo, prior to a good 5 minute revival session, as there's no doubt that this was a "way over", probably over the length of my yard stick.
Therefore the philosophical question: should I be grateful as I can rationalize this as a partial win by considering I got the best part of this battling a large fish experience since I was able to enjoy the hunt and ensuing battle, while it won its freedom without extreme, trauma? Alternatively, should I continue to brood over a bitter loss since I was unable to learn exactly how large this fish was?
