EDITOR'S LETTER

To tournament director Rob Donlan, the folks at Key West Boats, the Coastal Conservation Association and the rest of the volunteer crew and sponsors: Thank you for another great running of the Key West Boats Fishing for Miracles King Mackerel Tournament!

I’ve fished this two-day tournament for a number of years now, and have always enjoyed the great mix of competition and camaraderie. … Despite the fact that my fishing buddies and I can’t seem to find the big-money fish. Hope, as they say, springs eternal.

This year, of course, was not much different. Three times we thought we had the winning fish on the line. And three times we were wrong.

Day one of last month’s tourney started out wet and nasty on our 21-foot center console. After a punching through a thunderstorm, we started slow-trolling live baits at the Shady Grady, a well-known spot off Folly Beach. We fished through a drizzly morning, picking at small kings.

About midday, a massive fish picked up one of our baits and headed north, the drag screaming for a solid 30 seconds. We cleared lines and gave chase while I reeled frantically at the bow. By the time we caught up to the fish, we were all casting quick looks at each other, immediately understood as: “Nobody mess this up!”

After a few minutes of gentle coaxing, the fish eased up to the surface. The first time we saw color, a shimmering gray mass about 15 feet down, I let myself believe, if only for a moment, that we were hooked up to the biggest king mackerel anyone had ever caught off South Carolina.

Wishful thinking, indeed. A few seconds later, were watching an 8- to 10-foot long tiger shark cruise effortlessly beside our boat, a beautiful patchwork of undulating stripes running down its flanks.

The shark, of course, wasn’t about to succumb to 20-pound-test line and tiny treble hooks. It dove again and started another run. Knowing we had to get back to the task at hand — hunting big mackerel — I tightened the drag and thumbed the reel. The line snapped, and after a minute or two of playing “what if,” we ran back to our GPS numbers and started slow-trolling again.

The rest of day one played out slowly, with a couple of small kings to show for it. We skipped the weigh-in, waved good-bye to our chances of placing in the aggregate weight category and headed back to the dock to prepare for the next morning.

Day two started out with a bang. We had been fishing only for a few minutes when something picked up the way-back line. The fish didn’t run, so we thought it might be a small shark. Pretty soon, though, the fish realized it was hooked, and we got our first decent “smoker” king run.

Once again, we cleared lines and chased down the fish, standard operating procedure when using light tackle on big fish. Too much pressure could easily pull the tiny treble hooks out of the fish.

This time, when we first saw color, a jolt of adrenaline seemed to shoot through the boat. We knew it was a nice king, over 30 pounds, at least.

It took a few minutes of careful boat maneuvering and light but constant angling pressure to gently urge the fish upward. Again, we traded “don’t mess this up” glances as the long, silvery torpedo shape swam slow circles in the blue-green depths.

The king finally made a close pass. A quick gaff shot later, we had boated the fish. We knew a 40-plus pounder was leading the tournament, and though this king seemed a little thin, it was the longest anyone on board had ever caught. After dehooking and icing down the king, we weighed it — about 34 pounds.

Though we knew it wouldn’t win the tournament outright, we figured we had a decent chance of recovering some of the entry costs. And if the weight was correct, it would also be the biggest king mackerel I had ever caught, and the third over 30 pounds.

We put lines out again, feeling pretty good about things. We figured we still had as good a chance as any to hook into the big-money fish, the one that could win tens of thousands of dollars and a new boat, motor and trailer.

About an hour later, we thought we had him.

Again, one of the reels starts screaming. Again, we give chase. Again, we share the same thought: “Man, if that’s a king …”

Our doubts were soon confirmed. We had hooked into another large shark, this one a hammerhead. I fought the 8-footer for a while, trying to get it to the surface for a quick photo. I reeled the leader onto the rod nine times, and every time the shark would muscle back down into the depths. After 30 minutes, we gave up on getting a decent picture, and I tightened the drag even further. The wire rig snapped, and the fish swam away.

After an hour or two of more fishing, we called it a day and headed to Ripley Light Yacht Club to weigh in our fish.

The official tally: 34.22 pounds, good for 16th place but a far cry from the 42.9-pounder weighed in by The Black Cat (see Page 18 for more results).

Interestingly, our king was, in fact, longer than the winning fish. Just skinny as a rail.

That’s fishing!

To reach Tideline Senior Editor Matt Winter, e-mail matt@tidelinemagazine.com or call 843-937-5568.