This is a true story about a 12 to 14 yo kid fishing with his father. (I am not sure that I am breaking the board rules by telling this story. If I am, tell me I am wrong, and I will accept it as a nuby.) The little Bomba's were not there-home with Mama Bomba. They were too young, so it must have been 25 plus years ago. Six of us fished Nantucket for several days every year around Halloween. This year we hooked up with a father and son, the 12 to 14 yo. Crazily,they came in to the harbor after a trip in a 21' open boat from New Bedford. My dad and I had a 25' Searay that we would not have ventured intothose seas. During the ride from town in our buggy, the father told us that the kid had never seen a SB before. (That always suprised me, since he had the open boat.) They had stopped at KMART to buy the kid a $25 rod/reel/line combo on the way to the NB marina.
That night, Halloween, about 10 of us fished between Smiths Point and Madeket with a stiff SW in our face and nice four footers breaking on the steep beach. It was really dark, cloudy without a moon. The kid was next to me at the end of the line working a point with a hole to the left. Except for the kid we were all using bottle plugs so we could cast into the wind. I felt sorry for him. He was dragging a 2 oz Hopkins slowly along the bottom. It was the only thing that he could cast on the new rod. We were beaching a fair number of 30# class fish.
After about an hour, the kid started to scream that he had a fish. Because of the noise of the surf, nobody else heard him. I quickly flashed my light so I didn't spoil anybody else's fishing. His rod was really bent so I told him to adjust the knob in the middle of his spool. After what seemed forever, I told him how to use the waves to get the fish onto the beach. I turned the head lamp on for good so I could see what was happening. It took him four wave to get the fish close enough to grab it. It was really big. I had a lip gaff, but gilled it to make sure it didn't get away. I dragged it up onto the dry beach. The fish never even flopped. At that point everyone was around us.
The kid thanked me. He told me that the fish kept taking line. When I told him to adjust the drag, he said he turned it until it stopped losing line. We all concluded the big bass hit his Hopkins and had a heart attack and died. Nobody had a scale that could weigh the fish. The kid and his father took one of the buggies into town to get the fish weighed. They found most of the locals at a Halloween party. They got the fish weighed.
It was 54 pounds-the heaviest fish caught on the island to date that year. It is the heaviest bass that I have ever seen or touched.
I never talked to the kid again. I do not know if he recognized that he reached nirvana with his first bass. I hope I reach mine before my last fish.
This is really a true story. When the two younger Bomba's look back at two weeks ago in P'town, I hope they appreciate that they may have reached theirs.
Thanks for the patience.
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