A storys abouts A FIsh by Goliath (and Charles McGrath)
Me takes the NeWyork Times and me see this here followering story on FRONT PAGE
this here surely large IMprovemenst over usual gasbags what pass for NEws. (me usual use said
paper for lines the chickens coops ever since CouriR Jornal done got so dad blasted thins.
Read well this HEre Story of inspirations. Then me tells GOliath's OWN storys about a fisH!!
Enjoy:
this here surely large IMprovemenst over usual gasbags what pass for NEws. (me usual use said
paper for lines the chickens coops ever since CouriR Jornal done got so dad blasted thins.
Read well this HEre Story of inspirations. Then me tells GOliath's OWN storys about a fisH!!
Enjoy:
Catching Tuna and Hanging On for the Ride
By CHARLES McGRATH
YARMOUTH, Mass. — Dave Lamoureux’s kayak, named Fortitude, must be the only one in Massachusetts registered as a motor vessel. That’s because a powerboat registration is required to get a permit to fish for tuna here.
Skip to next paragraph
Enlarge This Image
Captain Andrew Poce via Dave Lamoureux
Dave Lamoureux with the 157-pound bluefin, a record tuna for an unassisted kayak fisherman.
Apparently, it never occurred to the authorities that someone might be crazy enough to want to catch a bluefin while sitting in what amounts to a floating plastic chair and enjoying what Melville called a “Nantucket sleigh ride.”
Since the end of July, Lamoureux has caught three bluefins this way, paddling a couple of miles off Race Point, at the tip of Provincetown, hooking a tuna and holding on, the rod clipped to a harness on his chest, while being towed at speeds up to 15 miles an hour before the fish exhausts itself.
His most recent catch, on Nov. 5, was a 157-pound bluefin, a record tuna for an unassisted kayak fisherman, and a near record over all, topped only by a 183-pound halibut caught by Howard McKim, an Alaskan, in 2004. Reeling in a halibut, though, has been likened to hauling in a load of plywood, and some of Lamoureux’s admirers consider landing a bluefin, known for its power and ferocity, the greater feat. He is a hero at bait shops up and down Cape Cod. On fishing blogs, a few grumblers call him a dangerous idiot.
Until about 10 years ago most kayak fishermen knew each other by name. Lately the sport has enjoyed a growth spurt, but it is still not recognized by the International Game Fish Association, the official record keeper for saltwater anglers. So kayakers keep their records informally and on Internet forums. There is an honor system. Some kayakers allow themselves to be towed out and back by a mother ship.
Lamoureux’s record required paddling alone and bringing the fish into shore.
Lamoureux is 42 and friendly, with a big smile and a ready laugh, and lives most of the year in Chicago, where he is a futures and options trader. He also has a place in Boston and access to his parents’ summer home here.
“My personality — I trend toward risk and danger,” he said last week, explaining that he used to rock climb and do extreme skiing.
But kayak fishing entailed “measured risk, not being-crazy risk,” he added, and compared it to trading. “Being a trader, you like risk. You’re comfortable with it. You have to weigh the reward versus the other side, which in this case is your life.”
Lamoureux’s 12-foot Heritage FeatherLite isn’t even a fishing kayak.
It’s a recreational kayak he found in the family garage and modified with additional equipment, the exact nature of which he will not disclose.
“I can’t be revealing all my secrets,” he said, “or else guys who are younger and in better shape will be breaking my records.”
When Lamoureux climbs into his kayak, wearing a wet suit or a dry suit, he is loaded down with safety gear: life jacket, whistles, strobe lights, a signaling mirror, a compass, two GPS devices, two radios, two cellphones, and two knives, in case he is dragged too far out to sea and needs to slash the line.
He hasn’t yet capsized, but Lamoureux still prepares himself psychologically to wind up in the drink.
“I actually consider myself safer than the average boater because all the safety equipment is attached to my person,” he said. He also carries dive fins in case he has to swim home. “I don’t plan on calling the Coast Guard or the commercial fishermen for help,” he said. “I think that’s irresponsible.”
When Lamoureux first showed up in their fishing grounds, commercial tuna fishermen figured he was lost or in distress. Now he has befriended several of them, and he will turn over a fish too big for him to manage. In August he reluctantly did this with a bluefin that eventually escaped but that on the fishing boat’s sonar looked to be about 800 pounds.
“That just broke my spirit,” he said. “They told me, ‘That fish is so big, it doesn’t even know you’re here.’ ”
Skip to next paragraph
Enlarge This Image
Captain Andrew Poce via Dave Lamoureux
Dave Lamoureux with the 157-pound bluefin, a record tuna for an unassisted kayak fisherman.
Apparently, it never occurred to the authorities that someone might be crazy enough to want to catch a bluefin while sitting in what amounts to a floating plastic chair and enjoying what Melville called a “Nantucket sleigh ride.”
Since the end of July, Lamoureux has caught three bluefins this way, paddling a couple of miles off Race Point, at the tip of Provincetown, hooking a tuna and holding on, the rod clipped to a harness on his chest, while being towed at speeds up to 15 miles an hour before the fish exhausts itself.
His most recent catch, on Nov. 5, was a 157-pound bluefin, a record tuna for an unassisted kayak fisherman, and a near record over all, topped only by a 183-pound halibut caught by Howard McKim, an Alaskan, in 2004. Reeling in a halibut, though, has been likened to hauling in a load of plywood, and some of Lamoureux’s admirers consider landing a bluefin, known for its power and ferocity, the greater feat. He is a hero at bait shops up and down Cape Cod. On fishing blogs, a few grumblers call him a dangerous idiot.
Until about 10 years ago most kayak fishermen knew each other by name. Lately the sport has enjoyed a growth spurt, but it is still not recognized by the International Game Fish Association, the official record keeper for saltwater anglers. So kayakers keep their records informally and on Internet forums. There is an honor system. Some kayakers allow themselves to be towed out and back by a mother ship.
Lamoureux’s record required paddling alone and bringing the fish into shore.
Lamoureux is 42 and friendly, with a big smile and a ready laugh, and lives most of the year in Chicago, where he is a futures and options trader. He also has a place in Boston and access to his parents’ summer home here.
“My personality — I trend toward risk and danger,” he said last week, explaining that he used to rock climb and do extreme skiing.
But kayak fishing entailed “measured risk, not being-crazy risk,” he added, and compared it to trading. “Being a trader, you like risk. You’re comfortable with it. You have to weigh the reward versus the other side, which in this case is your life.”
Lamoureux’s 12-foot Heritage FeatherLite isn’t even a fishing kayak.
It’s a recreational kayak he found in the family garage and modified with additional equipment, the exact nature of which he will not disclose.
“I can’t be revealing all my secrets,” he said, “or else guys who are younger and in better shape will be breaking my records.”
When Lamoureux climbs into his kayak, wearing a wet suit or a dry suit, he is loaded down with safety gear: life jacket, whistles, strobe lights, a signaling mirror, a compass, two GPS devices, two radios, two cellphones, and two knives, in case he is dragged too far out to sea and needs to slash the line.
He hasn’t yet capsized, but Lamoureux still prepares himself psychologically to wind up in the drink.
“I actually consider myself safer than the average boater because all the safety equipment is attached to my person,” he said. He also carries dive fins in case he has to swim home. “I don’t plan on calling the Coast Guard or the commercial fishermen for help,” he said. “I think that’s irresponsible.”
When Lamoureux first showed up in their fishing grounds, commercial tuna fishermen figured he was lost or in distress. Now he has befriended several of them, and he will turn over a fish too big for him to manage. In August he reluctantly did this with a bluefin that eventually escaped but that on the fishing boat’s sonar looked to be about 800 pounds.
“That just broke my spirit,” he said. “They told me, ‘That fish is so big, it doesn’t even know you’re here.’ ”
(click here for rest of story:http://www.nytimes.com/2009/11/23/sports/23fishing.html?_r=1&ref=todayspaper )
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That there story inspireth Goliath. Aint' mankind (and wimmenkind) kinda WONDERFUL?
Now, this here story touch Goliaths quite well because, IF your remmebers, me was, what,
IN CAPE CODS jus back las months. ANd...me loads up the wimmens an charter a big boat.
(Hail to thee Cap'n John I thee read this here!) So...me also on that there boat and befriend
"little Joe" that was this here nice little boy abouts 13 year old what come to Nantuckets to
see a wedding. Hims big rewards was on this here Charter. We fish for Blues and the like...not
toooo big..but Excitings as can be for the wimmens. (even ol Goliaths with his vast experiences
enjoys very very wells). Now, Goliath also learn well about the Blue Fin Tuna. That an all day
fight with MOTORIZED boats, wenches, power lines and what nots. THus...to imagines this
here feller catch it by KAYAk??? Me HEART SOAR!!!!
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Goliaths done been a fisherman. Yes maam. Evens before me was warrior, (and before I got my
head chopped off) me jsut a young sprouts. Gets a job on a fishing boats out on the big Mederranean. Thems was happy days. Me a big feller so gets hire to hauls in nets and the like.
But, most fun was sailings along at night...after the days toils and drinks grogs with theother good mens there on the crew. Nahab, Ahana, Soba..them was good good fellers (dead now these
3,000 year). We dring the grog and sets on the deck under the great starrry sky. We tells good storys about wimmens we knowd, places what we done see'd and many and many a good laugh.
One days, Cap'n take on this here feller, Jona. This here man very very sads and morose. Him wear long cloaks and him stand off to side not join in good times when we work and when we take rest. Him alls alone. On second day of that there trips, me kiling time with line and hook.
Nexst thing, me know, Me hook this here "GREAT FISH" ...it big as a dad blasted tent..or bigger! and that ther fish come rolling up to surface of water and look OL GOLIATH deaad square in the eye! It YANK that there line from the MIGHTY arms of Goliath and down she
goes to bottom of sea!!! Me not like to admit this here...but Goliath was quite scared an shook up.
Now. There this here cabin boy on board, "NewT" what we call him. Him just a sprout. "NewT
get me Line" "Newt GetS me more GROg!!" we order that there sprout around like a puppy!!
Him good feller what always smile and happy. Now that night After me hooks AnD Lose that
there Great fish. We All laid out on Deck Driking the Grog (THem not have Jaegermeisters back
in them days) and feels Very HapPy to be Alives. BUT....sudddenly Big Storm come up. Waves
get HIGHEer! this here Boat Not big like these here today what you see About and so VEry
safe and UNsinkables! Also...Not have the big LIFe jackets, and life boats and what nots to
pertects in events of DISasters!. All Nights long the boat toss about ...Rain and SLEEts coming
down!!!! Next day at Sunrise...same thing SkY so Dark with clousds Lightening crashing Thunder HEAVE HO!!! all abouts. We gather about for comforts but JONA. Him stand asids
and cast his eyes into the depths of the SEA!!!! Me llooks down where him looks...what do me
see? THE GREAT FISH rolling abouts ON the surface of the WAves!!!
This here go one for two more days and two more NIghts!!! We all desperateeas and PRAYSto
all the heathern gods what we knows of. But no use. Then...that afternoon, the Storm even
worser!!! It toss us to and fro and THEN...it toss poor Newt over the side!!!
We scrambles to edge of boat and Newt is hanging on. Him grabs a line and beneaths him...the
GREAT FISH is rolling and gapin his jaws!!!! We pulled poor Newt in the boat. We know'd then...We done angered that there!! We counts our days and realize...all this here bad luck starts
when this here JONA come upoon our vesel. That night, we talks it over and realize...JONA
gots to GO. That there FISH was god of that part of the SEA HIM SO ANGRY !!!! we gots to
appease it! We grab that there morose, grey head old JONA and TOSS HIM OVER the side!!!
Him gape and gaspes an calls for HIs Fambly and Chillern...him struggle in the boiling waves
for a whiles!!! THen....that there GReat fish come. IT rise UP. It open great GAPING JAQWS!!! and swallers that ther JONA!!!!
The next dfay....the clouds fall away and blue sky. The sea calm and light breezy wind blow.
We head for home. When me gets ashore me kiss the ground. Me decide then and there me
becomes a WArrior ...enough of that ther FISHING for a LIving!!! (THis here one hunnerd
percent all true and verifiable!)
Comments
Brian Coffman
P. Vissing