SWORDFISH

There is no argument that the lion reigns as the king of the animal kingdom. There may be animals that can run faster or jump higher, but in a face-off with a lion they know they are toast. When you leave land and venture beneath the surface of the world’s oceans, the broadbill swordfish is afforded the same title and respect within the salt water world of fish.

Their bravery is unquestioned as they have been known to attack boats, great white sharks and even killer whales when provoked. Tales of their strength, power and endurance have mesmerized fishermen for generations. Their long, broad bill, hence the name broadbill swordfish, is their weapon of choice and when wielded by a creature reeking of muscle from that bill to its powerful tail it makes for one ferocious fish when poked in the chest.

From an ocean anglers standpoint they are the ultimate prize. There are those who have pursued them their entire lives and not succeeded. Sightings are rare to begin with, getting the fish to take a bait even rarer and then the real battle begins. They are generally seen on the surface, with their tail and dorsal fin above water basking in the sun, resting between sojourns up to several hundred fathoms deep in search of food. The distance between the tail and dorsal fin is a tease as to how big the fish is. Smallish would be 150 pounds while the larger ones are 400 pounds plus.

In southern California, where I live, the usual strategy is to approach the fish as slow as your boat will go, so as not to spook him with loud noise or the wake of the boat. Some will cast a live mackerel off the bow, others will let a mackerel or 2-3 foot long squid (imported from New Zealand) out from the stern and circle the fish in an effort to stop and drop the bait directly in front of the swordfish. No easy task when the fish continues to turn with the boat. It is not unusual to circle a swordfish for up to an hour only to have them descend out of sight as if to say, thanks but no thanks.

If the fishing gods are smiling on you a strike can occur at the first pass or as you are about to pull your hair out in frustration. As you stop and your bait sinks in front of them, they drop below the surface. If the fish is not interested you will wait until you realize you have been stiffed. If he is interested he will circle the bait, out of view, waiting to strike. If he does, there will be no doubt as to what just happened. He will either grab the bait and begin his run or whack it with his bill with tremendous force, then pick it up and begin his run. In either case your adrenalin rush has just gone off the charts.

If you contain yourself and remain patient during this moment of all moments, you let the fish swim with the bait for a distance to ensure a solid hookup. At the same time the reel is put in gear the skipper guns the boat forward to straighten out the line and set the hook. It is at this time you realize you are in the big leagues. Stung by your hook the broadbill takes off on a run of such force and speed your loaded-for-bear tackle you were so proud of seems woefully inadequate for the task at hand. In an instant your arms turn to spaghetti and you’re in the top half of the first inning.

I’ve got to relax for a moment and take a deep breath. I will save for another blog my tales of triumph and despair in dealing with the gladiator of all fish.