The story of Peter McGonagle's
record dolphin—70.1pounds (31.8 kilograms) as told to Terry Maas
Bluewater diver Peter McGonagle tells the story of his world-record catch:
"I was employed as a deckhand for a fishing boat working out of Cabo San Lucas,
Mexico. We headed for a huge school of dorado about 20 miles out. Most of the fish were
female weighing up to about 45 pounds. The fishermen onboard caught 12 fish until they ran
out of bait. Now was my chance to slip into the water.
I was immediately engulfed by female fish, but I could also see several
large 60- to 70-pound males stealthfully cruising the outer edges of the school. I found
that the largest fish stayed way out on the periphery as long as I swam with the school
but became curious when I left it. It would follow me a short distance until we made eye
contact and then dart away. Keeping its distance, it would then follow me back to the
females. The fish and I kept repeating this dance until I changed my tactic.
I laid perfectly still on the water for 30 minutes, gun at my side,
floating like a drifting log. The big fish would approach, circle me and then dart away
again. Finally it came close, almost within range, then darted straight down. I continued
to remain still as it reversed course and came within 10 feet, close enough for a good
shot.
My shot was true, hitting it behind the gill plate. It jumped out of the
water and then headed straight down, instantly stripping 150 feet of line from my reel.
Pressure on the reel's drag finally stopped it. The fish stayed deep, continually swimming
on its side. Half an hour of gentle pulling passed before I was able to move it toward me.
On the surface, it darted around in circles as I reeled in my loose line. I finally pulled
it close enough to shove my hands into its gills. That's when I realized how really big it
was. I held it, bear-hug fashion, until I could swim back to the boat, where everyone
onboard was impressed with its beauty and size.
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Description of the Hunt
By Sheri Daye I went back to Costa Rica with a few friends
to hunt for yellowfin tunas. Unfortunately, the rainy season was lasting longer than
expected and causing bad visibility. This made it virtually impossible for us to line up
and shoot the few fast moving tunas we saw. Other than the visibility, conditions were
fairly nice…warm water, 2 to 4 foot seas, and clear skies.
Cruising around on the deep blue, in 3,000 feet of water, we spot a big gnarly log. I
slide into the water and see it is indeed full of life underneath. Three tripletails
bee-line over to greet me. Schools of jacks and bonitos are swimming by, and a few large
rainbow runners cruise past. Dozens of curious triggerfish mill around. A small whitetip
shark with trailing bait fish swims over to me, and I poke him hard hoping he goes away
for good.
Floating in the green gloom, about 25 feet deep, I finally spot the outline of a single
bull dolphin, and I take a long shot with my 50" Wong hybrid equipped reel. My shot
is a little high, not a kill shot, but it’s good enough to hold. As soon as I put
some pressure on the line, he goes crazy, circling around me and doing figure-eights at
the same time, occasionally jumping out of the water and slapping me in the face. My
buddies are amused, watching from the boat.
I keep twirling around trying to keep him in front of me and throwing line behind, but
he is half-succeeding at wrapping us together when I notice two small whitetips just
beneath us. I have the feeling their Mama might come in from out of the murk, and I’m
tired of getting slapped around, so I lunge in grabbing hold of the gills and tail in each
hand. I gain control and steer him towards the boat. We are now a single tangled mass, and
we slide in through the tuna door together...not the most graceful entry, but good enough.
As the captain said, sometimes you take whatever the ocean offers up that day. He
wasn’t a tuna, but still a very beautiful fish with stunning colors and a lot of
fight. |
