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A Fishing Story That's All Bull
Catching the most dangerous shark in the world in the
Florida Keys
By Christopher Elliott
After reeling in one fish after another - redfish,
sea trout and catfish - Richard Stanczyk quietly announces that it's time
to go after "something bigger."
We're a one-hour boat ride from the nearest inhabited island in the
Keys, drifting somewhere in the Florida Bay, and it's difficult to imagine
that our 16-foot vessel can accommodate anything much larger than the
gamefish we're catching and releasing.
Stanczyk, a veteran fishing guide, slices a live ladyfish in half,
hooks it, and casts the line in a wide arc alongside a sandbar. He chops
the rest of the baitfish into smaller pieces and tosses the bloody remains
overboard.
"Time to catch a shark," he says.
Did he just say what I think he said? Shark, as in, "Jaws"? As in, the
underwater killing machines that attacked helpless swimmers last summer?
As in, "If you see that fin in the water, swim for your life!" Charlie,
who flew in from Boston the previous day and is still getting used to the
idea of wearing a short-sleeved shirt during the winter, almost drops his
fishing pole.
"You're kidding, right?"
But Stanczyk, a man of few words, gives us a knowingly smile, like a
parent about to send a kid on his first roller-coaster ride. "Hold on to
this," he orders, handing me the rod with shark bait. "If you feel a bite,
I'll show you what to do."
A minute goes by. Two minutes. Ten. We see nothing except the
blue-green waters of the bay, stirred by a warm wind blowing in from the
Everglades. In the distance, terns and pelicans hide among the mangroves
growing along a nameless key, making occasional fluttering sounds.
Otherwise it's perfectly calm.
Suddenly there's a tug on my line. It doesn't feel the same as the
other ones - not jerky, but deliberate and powerful. The filament spools
out effortlessly.
"OK - now!" Stanczyk yells, motioning me to stop the line. I set the
hook and begin reeling. The rod immediately bends to a 90-degree angle and
whatever is on the end of the line just keeps going. Stanczyk pulls the
anchor and turns the boat around, following the fish into deeper water.
The rod buries itself in my thigh.
This is probably as good a time as any to mention that shark fishing is
perfectly legal (Florida is trying to ban shark feeding, not fishing) and
for the most part, safe. Last summer's set of shark-attack books and
frenzy of news reports did little to dispel the popular myth that these
creatures are underwater terrorists that kill for the fun of it. In fact,
even the most antagonistic shark species are normally shy and avoid human
contact.
As I fight with the force on the other end of my line, I try to remind
myself that the shark doesn't want to hurt me.
"Try not to fall in the water," Stanczyk warns. Charlie is standing on
the far end of the boat, mesmerized by the spectacle. My line is spooling
out again. So, too, is my composure.
Shark fishing is at its best in the Keys from March until May, and
although it's something that few professional guides specialize in, the
recent fascination with sharks has led to more inquiries from visitors.
One of the latest angling trends, I'm told, is to use a fly rod to catch a
shark - preferably a bull shark, which is considered one of the most
difficult and dangerous achievements here in the back country.
Did I mention the species of shark that gained national prominence for
biting an eight-year-old's arm off last July near Pensacola, Fla.? That
was a bull shark, widely believed to be the most aggressive kind in the
world. Makes a Great White seem like a pussycat. I figured we'd be just
fine as long as it wasn't a .
"It's a bull shark," Stanczyk declares. He looks a little nervous. I'm
terrified and Charlie, still on the end of the boat, remains speechless. A
bull shark! So this is how my writing career is going to end, with my arm
being digested by a hungry leviathan? The fish, all five feet of it, is up
against the boat now, having given up its struggle - or maybe just resting
- and none of us does anything for a few seconds that seem like hours.
Then Stanczyk grabs the line, bringing a knife as close to the shark as
possible, and cuts the filament. The bull shark vanishes under the boat,
my rod suddenly feels weightless, and everyone breathes a sigh of relief.
Stanczyk turns to Charlie and says, "You wanna try it?"
Charlie nods enthusiastically.
Islamorada
Islamorada, also known as the sportfishing capital of the world, is
located 80 miles south of Miami between Key Largo and Marathon. More
information is available online at
http://www.fla-keys.com
How to get there: Miami International Airport is the closest airport.
However, low-fare carriers such as Southwest and JetBlue also serve Fort
Lauderdale or West Palm Beach, and you could save money by using these
alternate airports.
Where to stay: The Cheeca Lodge (
http://www.cheeca.com ) is the closest major hotel to Islamorada's
sportfishing hotspots. The 203-room oceanfront property just opened a new
spa where you can go for a
relaxing massage after a day of sharkfishing.
Where to fish: Bud 'n Mary's Fishing Marina (
http://www.budnmarys.com ) offers
full-day and half-day guided trips to the backcountry. Prices start at
$275 for a half-day trip.
Where to eat: The Green Turtle Inn (305-664-9031) serves Keys favorites
like conch chowder and key lime pie at reasonable prices. Closed on
Monday.
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