Be sure to get your RSVP’s mailed in and join the festivities as we celebrate the good times this past year as well as welcome in our new Board of Directors. Questions? Call the club at 619-222-6877 or Wayne Slahor at 760-747-6239.

Guest Speaker: Larry Café from Café Products
Larry will be speaking on performance tuning of Penn International reels. If you want to learn how and why to upgrade your internationals attend this seminar.

Dear Wayne,

On Wednesday, September 11^th after having had our fill of catching albacore and yellowtail, Marty & Ken Morris along with Ken’s friend Jokey decided to make a trip up the coast to look for Marlin aboard the "Ken-Dan.". Before leaving, my mother wished us luck and hoped that we would catch a marlin. After having a weird premonition all day on Tuesday, I replied that I in fact was going to go catch a swordfish. After several such proclamations over the years and having never had one so much as swat at the bait, this was dismissed as idle chat.

After a quick run up to Scripps Pier and plugging the boat with some nice mackerel and just missing out on catching a live giant squid (the ultimate swordie bait), we headed up the coast looking for early morning sleepers. Working our way up off Oceanside, we came upon a very promising area that had all the elements except for Marlin. This turned out to be one of the few hot spots a week later. Deciding that we wanted to be somewhere near La Jolla for the high tide, we began to work back South. About 11:15, a conversation ensued about how nice the water was and how "they" like to fin about this time. It was also mentioned that there was a "nicer one" in the tank in case we saw "one." About this time, while glassing to the Port, I let out an Oh %^#&! —Swordfish!

After having baited approximately 15 swordies over the years, I knew exactly what to do. I had an Accurate 30 Twin Drag Reel loaded with 50lb line on a custom Cal Star Bait caster named the "Two-Fin Special" armed and ready below deck. The reel was completely rigged except for the hook, which awaited a particular bait size on the right occasion. Fortuitously, I had removed my designated swordfish hooks from my bag that morning (which I had carried in my bag for the better part of a year). I grabbed a 7/0 Mustad, tied it on and pinned on the "nicer one" in record speed and then slid the bait behind the boat. The swordie was finning parallel to the boat and appeared hungry to me, which is ironic because we hadn’t had one eat a bait in 20 years aboard the "Ken-Dan." Slowly, the bait and the swordfish became even to the stern of the boat and then in one slick more, the swordie made a sharp right turn towards the bait. After a couple of minutes of heart thumping, I felt him whack the bait twice and after a couple of more minutes, the line incredulously began to peel off the reel. After counting my watch for 1 and 1/2 minutes, we punched it and we were wired!

After 7 minutes, the fish kind of rolled near the surface and it looked to be at least 250 pounds. After rushing to get the gaffs ready, we saw no more of the fish for the next hour until it decided to butterfly 50 feet behind the boat. Looking at each other in disbelief, we both decided that the beast was at least 350 pounds if not pushing 400! After many tear filled hours, the fish began to tire and I had it on its side and brown within sight of the boat after 4 hours. Despite really pulling, I could not lift him that extra 10 feet that we needed. Finally, after 7 hours and having had the knot of the leader on the reel three times, I decided it was time to rear back and pull like I had never pulled before. I put my foot on the stern and leaned back and to my amazement the fish began to rise. It rose so close that I told my dad to take a shot. He reached out and just couldn’t quite get it. My long arms when not hooked up are usually great for this situation. To my further amazement, the fish continued to rise with his head coming out of the water and then it just lay there next to the boat. He lay so close that I could have reach over the side of the boat and put my hand on its body and hand gaffed it. At this point, my dad reached over with the very heavy Pompanette flying gaff as I thought great, we got him! To my astonishment, as he pulled, the flying gaff had come unlocked and when I looked again, the gaff head was laying on its body as the swordie slowly slithered back into the depths still hooked.

Thoroughly devastated, I pulled for another hour, but got the fish no closer than getting the leader on to the rod a few more times. At this point, I decided that although I was not exhausted, I was tired of this crap and that my dad needed to pull on it for a while. For the next hour, my dad pulled on the fish into the dark until we were met with the sickening crack of 50lb line snapping. After 8 hours and 52 minutes, the line had so much stretch that it had inched its way between the roller and the guide and parted against the roller pin.

Tired and terribly disappointed, we headed back in getting to the docks at 11:30 PM. Like Santiago in "The Old Man and the Sea," this fish of a lifetime was so close and yet so far.