Abaco Gold

by Patrick Mansell

  “I wanted to ask you if you want to do some fishing with me. My dad went to Nassau and left me with the boat. Wanna go?”

  “I don’t know, Gaff. I fish for a living. It’s not exactly what I do on my day off. But if you’d like to go with me some time, I think I could arrange that. I’d be glad to have you along.”

  “No man. I don’t want to do any gill-netting. I just thought we might try some deep dropping action on some of your numbers.” And then he added,” I thought you weren’t going to net any more.”

  Skeeter held the phone away from his ear and thought for a few seconds. Gaffer was right. Sooner or later he was going to have to realize that gill-netting was in his past. He spoke back into the phone, “Gaffer, when did you want to go?”

  “I have the boat all to myself for the next two days. Whenever you say. I’m always ready to go.”

  “OK, come on over in a couple of hours. You have bait?”

  “Squid and barracuda strips. By the way, I spent some time with Matthew the night of the whale thing. Bring him along. I’ll bet he’d have fun.”

  Skeeter liked that. Gaffer had thought to include his son in the fun. It would not have occurred to him that Matthew might like this. “OK, Gaff. Be here in two hours and Matthew and I will be waiting.”

  Gaffer hung up and punched the air in elation. Oh, yeah, he was ready for this. He ran out of the marina office and down the dock to where Bimini Twist was tied. He dropped two boxes of frozen squid into a bucket of sea water. Out came the deep drop rig. He attached the rod to the bent butt and threaded the 200 pound spider wire through the eyes of the rod. He then tied a twenty foot long Bimini Twist knot. A 300 pound test snap swivel was then attached to the end of the double leader with a perfect clinch knot. The reinforced swiveling rod holder in the port gunwale held the entire deep drop rig for traveling and fishing. Gaffer next plugged the electric reel into its plug in the center console.

  Gaffer had plenty of time to kill before heading to Skeeter’s house, so he broke out the rigging equipment and built three new deep drop rigs. He checked the oil reservoirs which were both low, so he topped them off. He untied the boat from the dock and headed over to the fuel station to await his turn to gas up. Thirty minutes later he was idling out of Boat Harbour for a day of adventure with Skeeter and Matthew.

  When Gaffer arrived at Great Guana Cay, Matthew was standing at the end of the dock waiting. Gaffer cruised to a perfect landing along side the dock and tied his spring cleat to an iron nail protruding from a piling. He shut down the engines and greeted Matthew.

  “Hey, Buddy. How ya doin’?”

  “Hi, Gaffer. I’m doing good. Are you ready to go?”

  “Ready, Pal. What’s that your holding?”

  “Check this out.” He handed the notebook across to Gaffer.

  Inside the leaves of the book were row after row, page after page of GPS coordinates and notes accompanying each one. Easily 200 or 300 different locations in every corner of the Bahama Islands pointing to the most likely spots for catching fish. Deep spots, shallow spots, lagoons, straits and currents. If there was ever a map to fishing heaven, this was it. Skeet’s lifetime of fishing excellence.

  “You need to take this back up to the house. I don’t think your father would want you playing with it,” said Gaffer.

  “No, I told him to bring it along.” Skeet’s voice came from a short distance up the path. “Why should I have all these numbers if I can’t share them with a fellow fisherman?”

  Gaffer swelled with pride that Skeet, the great Skeeter Pincus, would refer to him as a fellow fisherman. He disliked some of the things that Skeeter did, but he gave him credit for being one of the greatest fishermen in the Bahamas.

  “I’ve got some pretty good numbers of my own,” said Gaffer. “I’ve done a little dropping in the area and I’ve got this bathymetric chart.” He handed over the chart with its many lines, curves and site markings. Skeeter took a long look at it. He placed it on the leaning post and examined it more closely. He then rolled it up and handed it back to Gaffer.

  “Well, Gaff. That’s very pretty. Ever done you any good?”

  “Some. Not really that much,” admitted Gaffer.

  “Take a minute and put these four sets into your GPS. That should be enough to keep us busy for the rest of the day.”

  Gaffer got busy entering coordinates, grinning the whole time. One of his favorite fishing adventures was to score a new set of numbers from a real pro. He hit the ignitions while Matthew untied the dock line. Idling out of the turning basin Gaffer punched the first location into the GPS. “Twelve miles, three hundred eighty two degrees. Lead the way, Captain.” he stepped aside and put Matthew at the helm. He then walked around the leaning post and showed Skeeter the equipment and bait he had ready for the outing.

  Skeeter grabbed the snap swivel at the end of the deep dropping rod and checked out the clinch knot that was holding it in place. He then placed the reel in free spool and ran the line out to the start of the Bimini Twist knot. He examined it closely. “Let me see what you intend to use for a rig.”

  Gaffer pulled out one of the rigs he had made earlier that afternoon. Skeeter looked it over carefully, one hook at a time. He looked it up and then looked it down. He examined the crimps and the loops at each end. Then he looked at Gaffer. For a moment he did not speak, he just looked. Then he said, “Gaffer, how old are you?”

  “Fifteen.”

  “Gaffer, these knots and crimps are as good as any I’ve ever seen. I know men who have been fishing all their lives and can’t tie like this. I’m seriously impressed.”

  Gaffer was flattered. “I’m careful about every knot and crimp I make. Every one of them has to be as good as it can be, otherwise you lose fish. I’m not better than anybody else at tying, I’m just very careful. I take a little extra time to do each one perfectly. I might be only fifteen, but I’ve tied thousands of knots and crimped thousands of crimps.”

  Skeeter just looked at Gaffer. What more could be said. The boy was a mature fisherman. He had the knowledge and spirit to become one of the greats, to be in the record books, to be celebrated in game fishing circles everywhere. It was going to be a fun afternoon fishing with the boy, watching him work, showing him a few tricks and a location or two. And to have Gaffer spend time with young Matthew would be valuable beyond measure. Out of sheer anxiety he took over the helm and advanced the throttles. He could hardly wait to get started.

  Gaffer stood along side the leaning post while Matthew sat next his father at the helm. Skeeter drove like he was born at the helm. He set the GPS and depth finder and then ran the throttles up to 3300 RPMs. “Nice boat,” he said to Gaffer.

  Gaffer smiled. “Built and rigged for fishing.” Then he added, “There’s plenty to drink on board. Anybody want anything?”

  “Can I have a coke?” asked Matthew.

  “Nothing for me yet,” said Skeeter.

  After fifteen minutes Skeeter negotiated the way through Whale Cay Passage and out to open sea. Twenty minutes later he throttled back. He idled around the area, carefully watching the GPS and depth finder. Gaffer watched from over Matthew’s shoulder and saw that the depth was very erratic. Between 800 and 950 feet the bottom went up and down. There were valleys, hills, plateaus and craters. It was the most unusual bottom Gaffer had ever seen.

  “Skeet, tell me about this bottom. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  Skeeter liked Gaffer’s inquisitiveness. Matthew listened intently as his father answered. “It’s very unusual. There are no other spots like it in the Bahamas. You figure that bottom has been down there a few million years. These islands have not been here nearly that long. There’s continental drift, erosion, storms, all sorts of things. I once brought a fellow out here who knows a lot about geology. He thought that maybe a million years ago an under water volcano blew near here. I believe that’s a real possibility. There’s still some live volcanic action throughout the Caribbean and we’re not
that far from there speaking in geological terms. Montserrat blew up a couple of years ago and that’s less than a thousand miles from here. That’s like just over the horizon.”

  “Matthew, do you know what to do with this stuff?” Gaffer asked pointing out the deep dropping equipment.

  “No. I just fish with a rod and reel. Sometimes my father lets me go with him and I drive the boat. I’d like to find out about the electric reel. Can I try it?”

  Gaffer called to Skeeter, “What are we fishing for here, Captain?”

  “Rig for grouper. Mix up the squid and barracuda. You can go every other one or both on the same hooks. It doesn’t matter.”

  Gaffer rigged as instructed and returned to the helm. He checked the numbers on the GPS and the readout on the depth finder. “What are we looking for?” he asked.

  “I think I’ve dropped on every square inch of this site. I like this area right here.” He pointed to a dropoff at the end of a plateau that looked to be about fifty yards across. “This lip right here is always a good spot for groupers. I’m going to move back to it and set us up. I’ll give you the word to drop.”

  “Matthew is going to drop. I’ll assist,” said Gaffer.

  Skeeter swung around to see that Gaffer was helping Matthew put on a pair of large orange utility gloves. Matthew sat on the gunwale examining the heavy rod and the switches on the electric reel. To Gaffer he said, “Thanks, Gaff. That’s generous of you to teach him this.”

  “It’s OK,” said Gaffer. “He wants to learn it. It’s his time, he’s old enough.”

  Skeeter threw the starboard throttle into hard reverse for ten seconds and brought both throttles back to neutral. “Let ‘er rip.”

  Gaffer dropped the five pound lead overboard and showed Matthew the release switch. “Hold your hand on the spool like this,” he placed Matthew’s left hand over the spool, “And pull back on this little handle.”

  Matthew did as instructed and the deep drop rig with its six circle hooks, bright white k-light and five pounds of lead headed toward the bottom.

  “Now keep your hand over the spool so that the line doesn’t backlash. Don’t put your finger under that bar or it will get caught. Just keep controlling the line as it goes out. It takes about two minutes to hit the bottom and when it does, your hand has to be on the spool or it will backlash and make a mess. Do you understand?”

  Matthew was concentrating on the job at hand. He nodded his understanding and looked intently at the reel.

  “Relax,” said Gaffer. “You’re doing fine. Can you relax?”

  Matthew shook his head. He could not relax. Skeeter looked at Gaffer. He so admired this boy who had discovered within Matthew a desire to fish that Skeeter had not noticed before.

  “You’re going to be on the bottom any second, Son,” said Skeeter. “Get ready. All you have to do is throw that switch back to where it was when you started. Here, Gaffer, take the controls. I want to show him.”

  When Skeeter moved around the leaning post Matthew seemed to relax. Gaffer returned to the helm and moved the boat around to a better position for the angle of the line in the water. An instant later the lead hit the bottom. Matthew’s hand was on the spool as he had been instructed. There was no backlash. Skeeter showed him how to lock up the reel.

  “OK, Son. You’re right on the bottom but when you see the line get tight like that when the back of the boat comes up, you have to let out a little more line. Just throw the lever again and it’ll go back down.” Matthew did as instructed and in no time at all the lead hit the bottom again. He locked up the lever automatically as if he had done it hundreds of times before.

  “I see he’s a fast learner,” said Gaffer. “You know how many times I had to drop before I remembered to lock it back up? I still forget sometimes.” With that he placed the starboard throttle in to reverse for a few seconds and then back to neutral.

  The tip of the rod began to twitch. Skeeter got very excited for his son. “They’re biting,” he said. “When the rod tip starts shaking like that it means they’re eating the bait. We want them to eat a little but not too much. They’re groupers and when they feel stress they head for a hole and you can never get them out. As soon as you get one big jerk you put your hand on that switch and it’ll reel the fish in. You get it?”

  “Calm down, Dad,” said Matthew. “You’re more nervous than me. Don’t worry, we’ll get trough this together.”

  Gaffer roared with laughter. “Calm down, Skeet,” he teased. “We’ll get through this together.” That made Skeeter and Matthew both laugh.

  Without having to be told, Matthew hit the switch and began reeling in. The rod was bent at a severe angle as the tip jerked up and down. “Don’t let go of the switch. Keep your hand on it. I think this fish is a big one.”

  Within twenty seconds the fish was forty feet off the bottom with no hope of returning to its hole. Gaffer noticed how slowly the line was returning. “It’s a big one,” he told Matthew.

  Matthew kept his hand on the switch while his father showed him how to move the line back and forth across the spool. “That’s called level winding. We do it so the line won’t get piled up in the middle, ‘cause if it does it’ll get stuck under this bar.” Skeeter was all over the place showing Matthew everything. To Gaffer he said, “That 12/0 reel is slow. You need to size up to a one thirty.”

  “I think you’re going to find a pretty big fish on the end of that line. Normally the reel is much faster than that. We’ll see in a minute. How you doin’ Matthew?”

  “Good,” he said nervously. “What do I do when he gets to the surface?”

  “I’ll tell you when to stop reeling and then I’ll grab the line and bring him into the boat. I see color!” Skeeter said excitedly. “He’s coming, get ready. A few seconds, he’s a big boy. Look at that!”

  Matthew looked over the side and could not believe what he was seeing. A swirl of color and bubbles was heading toward him. Closer and closer it came until he heard his father say, “OK Matthew, stop!”

  Matthew took his hand off the switch and stepped back. Skeeter leaned over the side and, with a small hand gaff, hooked the grouper in the mouth. He hoisted it into the boat while Gaffer grabbed the lead weight at the end of the line.

  “Congratulations, Matthew. What do you say, Skeet? Sixty pounds?”

  “It’s a big one. Probably more like fifty than sixty. Nice going, Son. You did great. How do you feel?”

  “My insides are all jumpy. It made me nervous and excited. I’m all buzzing. Wow! That was great!” Matthew was all smiles.

  Fifteen minutes later the boat was organized again. Skeet cut the tail off the grouper so it would fit into the fish box. Gaffer freshened the baits while Matthew brushed the grouper’s slime off the deck. Everyone was busy and having a great time.

  “We have an unusual problem,” said Gaffer. “The fishbox is full, so it won’t do us any good to catch any more fish.”

  “I’d like to show you a couple of more spots,” said Skeeter. “Do you mind if we use the live well to hold some snappers? I know a couple of spots I’m sure you would like that are only about three miles from here.”

  “Let’s go,” said Gaffer. “We can take some ice from under that grouper and put it in the live well.” He gave Matthew a high five and exclaimed, “Let’s go fishing!”

  Matthew returned the high five with a wide grin on his face. Skeeter saw the exchange and was pleased. His son was taking an interest in what Skeeter had been doing most of his life. This could be the beginning of a new bonding ritual for the father and son. He was elated beyond measure.

  In less than ten minutes they were set up for dropping on the second site. This time Skeeter would drop while Gaffer maneuvered the boat. Matthew stood by Gaffer to watch what he was doing. “Look, Matthew, let me show you how to move the boat. Once you know this, and you already know how to control the deep drop, you’ll be a pro. Watch. You want the line to come off the tip of the rod at a ninety degree
angle. That’s straight down. Your dad can’t control the angle with the rod and reel, so you have to do it with the boat. Look, the line is moving toward the boat so we have to move the back around to the starboard. That’s to the right, starboard. Do you know that?”

  Matthew nodded.

  “OK, here’s how I do that. I put the port throttle in reverse. On a calm day like this, the back of the boat will go right around. When it’s rough or there’s a lot of current or wind, we need to give it port reverse and starboard forward, with the emphasis on the port engine. In rough seas we sometimes have to work it pretty hard. Do you get it?”

  “Can I try it?” asked Matthew. “I understand what you’re saying. I think I can do it.”

  Skeeter watched as Gaffer and Matthew changed places. Matthew controlled the boat as if it were Skeeter or Gaffer at the helm. Two and a half minutes later the lead hit the bottom and Skeeter locked up the reel. Matthew kept a close eye on the line coming off the tip of the rod, while Skeeter reeled and dropped and reeled and dropped some more. Matthew was controlling the boat perfectly, so Gaffer took up a seat on the gunwale opposite Skeeter and watched the father and son work.

  All eyes were on the tip of the rod. Within a half minute of striking bottom the tip began to twitch. Skeeter brought it up and set it back down. “Aren’t you pulling the line away from the fish just as they’re biting?” asked Gaffer.

  “If I’m doing it right, I’m hooking fish each time I reel up and then going back down to hook another. At least that’s the theory.”

  “It looks to me like you’re taking the bait out of the fish’s mouth. But I’ll just be quiet and watch. I’m sure you’re much more experienced at this than me.”

  The line was now jerking uncontrollably. It looked like several fish had latched onto the hooks. Skeeter hit the switch and began reeling in his catch. This time the line returned faster than before but the reel was still straining with the weight of the catch.

  “Matthew, you can shut off the engines. Your dad will just be reeling for a few minutes so we might as well enjoy the quiet and save the gas.”