The Barracuda

We both had the day off today, and Bjorn had the bright idea to spend our morning fishing. A regular customer down at the supply store, Evan, owns a fishing charter company, and had offered to give us a discount because we’re “locals”. He takes people out in his boats, supplies them with rods and bait and know-how, and gives them a couple hours to try their luck with the fishies out in the Pacific.

When Bjorn approached me with the idea of spending our morning fishing, I was not impressed, to say the least. But the idea did need to be considered for his sake.

Bjorn is a fisherman. In Sweden, he lives just next to a huge lake, and he often takes a boat out onto it in his free time, whiling away afternoons patiently waiting for the fish to bite. He therefore brought all of his fishing gear to New Zealand, with the intention of doing as much fishing as possible.

Though he has tried to fish all over the Banks Peninsula, it’s really just impossible to catch anything unless you’re actually out in the middle of the water. Fishing from the shore just won’t do. So it made sense that he would be eager to try his luck with the fishing charter boat, and I decided that I could tag along. If nothing else it would be a nice ride on a boat!

We boarded the small fishing boat around 9:30 AM this morning with an older couple from England and headed out to the “heads” of the harbor – the area just beyond where the bay spills out into the ocean. We were given a quick demo on how to cast the line out, and that was about it. I suppose they assume that anyone who hires a fishing charter would have at least a basic knowledge of the sport.

Well, the first time I’ve ever fished was about two months ago. In a small river. With Bjorn. And I didn’t even come close to catching anything. Just threw the line out a few times for fun. So, needless to say, I had no idea what I was doing.

Um, how am I supposed to know if something bites? I kept asking Bjorn. What does it feel like?

You’ll just know, he replied, over and over again.

I’ll just know, I thought. Right. And so I sat. And sat. And sat. Feeling very little other than the ocean currents gently pulling on the end of my line.

Bjorn immediately caught a gorgeous blue cod, though he was obligated to throw it back in because it was too small. The guide, as well as one of our British companions, also started catching things (though again, nothing they could keep).

Ugh! I thought. I have to catch a fish. This stinks.

I suck at this, I said over and over to Bjorn. What am I supposed to be doing? I don’t get it!

Bjorn was right, though. When I did finally get a bite, I knew it. There was no doubt of what was happening. I felt a strong jerk on the end of my life, firmly pulling the rod out of my hands. Oooh ooh ooh!!! And I started to reel it in, whatever it was.

Well, as I began to pull the line in, I realized that whatever was on the end of it was strong. Perhaps stronger than me. I felt like I was fighting with everything in me to keep the rod in my hands as the fish struggled and swam to get away.

I started shrieking – probably ridiculously and loudly – and Bjorn and the guide both huddled around me, motivating me to DON’T LET GO OF THE ROD! and to KEEP REELING!

The line suddenly tugged forward, and I could finally see what I had, swimming out in front of the boat, fighting to free itself. OH MY GOD! It was HUGE.

BARRACUDA! the guide yelled.

What does that mean? I thought. Does that mean don’t keep reeling? Are barracudas bad? Will it try to kill us all?

I finally got the fish right up to the edge of the boat, but it was wildly thrashing about, and I was still LOST as to what I was supposed to be doing. Also, that fish looked mean. And unhappy with me. The guide stepped in to take the rod, and asked the British fellow to please grab him that “wee wooden club over there”. He needed to give that barracuda a wee head clubbing before bringing him aboard.

And just like that, with a little “thwack”, the barracuda was finally defeated, hanging limply on the line. I could barely breathe! I think I’m going to have a heart attack, I said. Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god.

At everyone’s urging, a photo was taken with me holding the fish on the line, but I have to say, although it was something of a glorious moment for me, I was mortified! I was so scared to hold that thing. It was awful. I was just certain that fish was going to spring back to life, open his big, nasty mouth, and just swallow me whole. EW!

Of course, after I had become the champion, barracuda-slaying, master fisherwoman, I became quite interested in fishing. And quite determined that I could catch something else. I passed the last hour on the boat confidently reeling my line up, certain there was something wonderful on the end, only to find a big nothing.

But that’s okay with me because I was the big winner of the day! Everyone else had to throw their fishies back in the water, but the guide wanted to keep mine because he said it would make great bait (apparently NOT good eating, though).

When we finally returned to the dock, I had to have yet another celebratory photo, this one of me actually holding the nasty thing in my hands. Check out the photos (http://picasaweb.google.com/ellen.bucy) – I tried to look like a champion, but truthfully, I was still quite squeamish and terrified of this thing I had caught!

So it was a glorious day. And Bjorn was not the slightest bit upset that I had had the big catch. In fact, I think he was rather pleased, sharing in my big day and knowing my interest in fishing had been piqued.

Yesterday, when discussing the prospect of this fishing adventure, I told Bjorn there was no way I’d be able to ever keep anything I caught, let alone eat it, but I have to admit that the sport of it all got the best of me today. I was ready to FISH! It was good, good fun, and I’m excited to go again sometime! I’m sure, knowing Bjorn, I won’t have to wait too long.

I’ll be dreaming of barracudas tonight. Hope you’re dreaming of…something else. Much love.