EPIC SHARK BATTLED ABOARD AN 18-FOOT MEXICAN PANGA

Sept. 20, 2004, Russ Fritz and Chuck Potter, La Ribera, Baja California Sur, Mexico:

This story is all true, and happened on Saturday 18, Sept. 2004. Chuck Potter and I went out for a 1/2 day's fishing at the 4 mile reef, just off La Ribera where we both live. We were in my 18-foot panga, Soplado, and were hoping to bring in a couple of red snapper, which have been running lately. Here's what happened. As I live and breath, I have never had a fish on the line as strong as this one.

Chuck hooked something big about 8:15 a.m. It started pulling us around, this way and that that way with strong rushes, but it stayed deep.

At first, we thought it was a giant sea bass. Wrong. About 30 minutes into the fight, a dorado took our surface bait, which was trailing along behind. I landed it, and put it in the fish box with ice.

Chuck continued to fight the big fish. It pulled us generally towards open ocean, giving up a little line occasionally, and taking it back when it wanted.

As hour two passed, we had made no progress in bringing the fish up, but we were about 4 miles north of where we started.

Hour three, the same, but further north. By now the wind was picking up from the southwest, which was helping to blow us further offshore.

As hour four passed, a honey bee arrived with a few of his friends. Then some more, and then more. At first they didn't appear threatening, but when I swatted one on Chuck's leg, they all stirred up. I was stung three times, and killed as many as I could. Chuck held onto the rod, swatted bees with his feet, and mashed some when they landed on him. Never been attacked by honey bees, while 12 miles offshore. Too strange.

Hour five, and then six passed with no more bees, and no change in the struggle, except that we were further offshore. Several hotel boats came by. One offered to pass information to shore for us, as we were out of reach for my handheld radio. They offered to call Scotty, and tell him that we were okay, but we were being dragged to sea by a huge fish.

About 2 p.m., we decided to try and drag the fish towards shore, which in retrospect, we should have done hours earlier. As the hours had passed, we had tried to figure out what kind of monster of the deep we had on the line. We discussed each kind of fish, and their respective methods of struggle when hooked. It came down to either a giant black marlin, or a giant shark.

Towing the fish towards shore worked, but ever so slowly. I could only make 2 to 3 m.p.h. with the waves, tides, currents, and wind all against us, and the fish pulling from behind.

My GPS showed 15.3 miles to Clarence's house on the beach, when we started towards shore. At an average of 2.5 m.p.h. we were looking at least 6 to 7 hours more. I figured that if nothing got worse, we would hit the beach about 9 p.m.

By 4 p.m. the wind was blowing about 20 to 25 and the waves were 5 to 6 feet. We continued to motor slowly to shore, taking the bigger waves and lots of spray over the side.

At 7 p.m., hour 11, as the sun set, we had about 1 mile to go. The wind abated a little, and the waves calmed down some. We made a little better time, and steered by the lights on the beach.

At hour 12, we neared the beach, and the monster couldn't dive in the shallow water. I stopped the boat. Chuck reeled him towards us in the dark. The flashlight only reached out about 25 feet, and we could see a 4-foot tall tail thrashing about, as the fish pulled the boat in circles. The water was clear, and when the light shined in his eyes, they glowed an eerie yellowish green.

I could tell from the tail, we had a huge thresher shark. My fish book sez, "Thresher sharks grow to 25 feet with the tail being 1/3 of the length." It doesn't take Pythagoras, to calculate that 4 feet of tail sticking above the water, and 2 feet, or more, below the surface to be a 10 to 12-foot long body in front of that tail. I could see that my arms would not reach around this shark, and from his excited swimming, I could also see that 12-plus hours on the line hadn't tired him out much. We would need another plan.

I was not going to gaff a fish that big and that energetic. By now, we were into hour 13, and the only plan we could come up with was to drag him to La Ribera, beach the boat, and fight the fish from shore with the idea of dragging him into shallow water, getting a rope on him somehow, and drag him ashore with Ralph. Not much of a plan, and plenty of room for error, and error with teeth didn't appeal to me. Chuck had the rod, so obviously, I would be the guy with the rope.

Since I always got to be the "cow" when playing cowboys and indians, my experience has always been with the rope around my neck, not in my hands.

Fortune smiled on us in a perverse way though. The shark was able to wear such a hole in his jaw, from 13 hours on the line, that he finally slipped the hook and swam away.

Just as well, and although not spoken, I am sure that we were both relieved. When we beached the boat about 9:45 p.m., the town mayor, a small crowd of Mexicans, and George and Linda Bergin were on the beach to greet us and help. With their help we trailered the boat, went home, showered, and fell asleep exhausted. Hell of a half-day of fishing. In the immortal words of Capt. Ron: "If its going to happen, its going to happen out there." It sure did to us.

For the record, the fish hit a live mackerel, drifted on the bottom, at about 300 feet down. Chuck was using a Daiwa 600H with 60-pound mono and an old 6-foot Saber 50/80-pound rod with all roller guides. We were in my 18-foot panga, Soplado, launched at La Ribera beach.

Seas were flat calm when we launched, 15 knots at 11 a.m., 20 to 25 knots at 4 p.m. with 4 to 6-foot swells with lots of chop. The wind quit after sundown. By 9 p.m. we were close to Rancho Leonero and it was calm.

The fish stayed deep all day. We got a glimpse of color in the first hour, but then nothing until after dark. By then we were close to shore, in about 15 feet of water, and could see the monster circling us. He was so active, and I presume excited, that he was thrashing the surface with his huge tail, and pulling my panga in circles. My mind was trying to understand how this fish could have so much energy after pulling my panga over 18 miles from where we started.

While I would love to have eaten some of that shark, neither of us had the energy to fight him much more. His energy was far from the picture we had in our minds after 13-plus hours. We thought he would be worn out, and we could deal with him easily. Not a chance.