Figured I would start this thread for spearfishing specific stories.... I will periodically go back through the memory bank, photo albums and log books and spin ya a yarn.... Lets hear your tales from the deep!
Spearfishing Stories
- Thread starter Pete Correale
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This was my first triple digit Grouper. I was down in Baja, Mexico, my first time diving on the Pacific side of the peninsula. This was the last day of the trip and we had already skull dragged a bunch of solid groupers further south down the coast. One of my goals on this trip was to whack one over 100 pounds. It had taken us all day to get over to this spot. We had to ferry all our gear across an estuary, and then drive some old beat up trucks down a 30 mile stretch of remote beach on an island. We met up with our Pangeros, local commercial lobstermen who have a remote camp at the tip of the island. They took us out to a spot they call “Cemetario” where they like to drop lobster traps and occasionally catch grouper on hand lines. It was about 100 feet to the bottom. I was the first to jump and the water was murked up, probably five feet of viz at most. I made my first drop, not knowing at all what to expect, and as I got down to about 40 feet the viz cleared up a bit. I landed on the piece, hard bottom around some ledges, and immediately spotted about 3 fish out on the edge of viz that all looked to be plus size models. I ascended back to surface and gave the rest of the guys my report. I breathed up and made a second drop, landed right in the same zone and the fish were still there. I took a shot on what i thought was the biggest one, got lucky, hit it in an aft section of the gill plate and somehow stoned it. The fish came up with zero issues, barotraumaed half up the water column, and floated right to the surface. The Pangueros flipped there shit when they saw the fish and immediately started making claims of it hitting 100 pounds. We cruised back to camp, and broke out the scale. It went 117 pounds. It was one helluva a way to cap out an already sick trip.
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My second trip to Ascension Island before they closed the flights to civilians. I had three clients with me, and they all had the same goal, whack a Yellowfin over 200 pounds. Del had done quite a few trips with me before this one, Panama, Baja etc. This was the first day of diving on our Ascension trip. Del stoned this 73 pound Wahoo in the morning and later that afternoon stoned this Yellowfin which I believe went 235 pounds on the scale. It was a helluva trip, with tons of sharks, Wahoos and big yellows. One for the books…
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The genesis of "Pretty People Shoot Pretty Fish"
The FE crew was in Walker's Cay, Peter, Wiley, Don, Trevor and Myself. First off, Walker's is amazing, the bottom and structure is incredible. With my limited breath hold, I like to send Wiley or Pete down first to locate fish for me. In this case, Wiley was looking in a coral head and when he swam up, he kicked some sand, and a Big Dog Snapper came out to investigate...so i dove down and shot it.
Turns out it was probably close to a record fish at the time, an absolute beauty. prompting us to comment that "Pretty people shoot pretty fish"
The FE crew was in Walker's Cay, Peter, Wiley, Don, Trevor and Myself. First off, Walker's is amazing, the bottom and structure is incredible. With my limited breath hold, I like to send Wiley or Pete down first to locate fish for me. In this case, Wiley was looking in a coral head and when he swam up, he kicked some sand, and a Big Dog Snapper came out to investigate...so i dove down and shot it.
Turns out it was probably close to a record fish at the time, an absolute beauty. prompting us to comment that "Pretty people shoot pretty fish"
One of many trips to the East Coast of Africa…This was a exceptionally good one. I think we had three Mahi over 40 pounds, countless Yellowfins and Wahoos, a Black Marlin over 200 pounds, some big GT’s, Long Nose Emperors, Job fish, and five Doggies over 150 pounds…. One for the books.
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My 2nd Gulf Grouper over 100 pounds… This one I shot in The Sea of Cortez while on a live-aboard trip. It was totally unexpected, shot it while diving a deep pinacle out in the middle of nowhere. It went 120 pounds on the cert. scale..
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To date, my greatest experience Spearfishing was with @Don Trump Jr. and @Wiley Watson in Turkey. We stayed on a friends boat and spearfished monster Bluefin. you can see the epic video here --->>
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What steroids were you taking in preparation for this trip? I can tell in the second photo that you must have been injecting peptides straight into your shoulder clavicles...
i'm on every kind of peptide i can find
Yeah, wow, insane trip that was.
Here is a great story written by my client turned friend Bill Norton… This is based around a trip he did with me in Panama years ago….
TUNA VIRGIN POPS CHERRY
All my friends had done it. They had all shot tuna and it seemed like that was all they could talk about. They’d go on for hours about who shot the biggest or who got the most. All their bragging and bullshit was really getting to me. It got to the point that whenever the subject of tuna came up, I would just walk away. The truth was, I was embarrassed and I was ashamed because… God help me… I was still a TUNA VIRGIN!!
I don’t know what I was doing wrong but somehow; I couldn’t get to first base with the local tunas. I chummed. I dove under porpoise, I tried every trick in the book but those Southern California tunas were playing it way too hard to get.
My repeated failures depressed the hell out of me. But then one day, I realized something. I had to make a choice. Was I going to live the rest of my life under the cloud of shameful tuna virginity or was I going to stand up like a man and do something about it? I made up my mind right then and there that I was going to have to go South of the border where rumor had it that the tunas were easy.
I contacted my friend Pete Correale at Spearfishing Panama. Pete considers himself a “guide”. I think of him more as a TUNA PIMP for a TUNA BROTHEL. Pete said, “Sure, I’ll put you on tuna. Hannibal Bank is the perfect place for virgins like you to pop their tuna cherries” I knew I was talking to the right man. Pete told me that April at Hannibal is pretty much like spring break everywhere. Party time. Mating season. Easy action. Tunas just aching to take on my 60 inch shaft….Wahoo! Sign me up! I said.
So I booked a trip with Spearfishing Panama and a short time later, I was in the water on Hannibal bank. Sure enough, this tuna whorehouse was stuffed to the gills with the sexiest tunas ever wiggle to their tail fins.
Joe Farlo was the most experienced man in our panga. He had had more notches on his tuna gun than anybody I had ever met. I was in awe of him. His cannon was HUGE, over six feet long with nine beefy bands and a Mori slip tip that was sure to toggle.
Just as you would expect, and rightfully so, Joe was the first of us to score. He had told me he liked the fatties, so true to his word, he chose a fat and sassy beauty that was over two hundred pounds. He lured her into range with gifts of sparkling sardine chum. Then as she approached, all innocent and unaware and doe eyed, he drove his massive 72 inch shaft into her. Joe’s size was too much for her. She bucked violently then dove for the bottom pulling Joe’s three atmosphere float down to forty feet. But Joe wasn’t letting her get away with it. She would be his no matter what. Seconds later, when the float resurfaced, Joe grabbed the bungie line and inch by inch, pulled his struggling captive back up to thirty feet. Then, taking his own sweet time, when he was UP, really UP for a second round, if you know what I mean, he drilled her again. Her body convulsed and twisted with climactic spasms as Joe pulled her into his arms and held her until her the movement ceased and her submission was complete.
Moments later the panga approached and Joe, cool as a cucumber, boated the bitch, then lit up a Marlboro.
Okay, call me a voyeur or whatever, but I had to watch. It was the only way I could learn. I was in the water just a few feet away and I studied every nuance of the battle. I learned one thing for sure. Joe certainly had the technique. He knew what he was doing. I hoped that one day when my cursed virginity was gone, I could be a first class tuna stud like my friend Joe Farlo.
The second of our group to score was Kristo Dodie. Kristo is a Greek/American from Westminister California. Kristo confided in me that he likes them “young and barely legal”. He perused the line up of schooling young ones until he spotted a nice fifty pounder with lovely curves. (By the standards of what were seeing that epic day, fifty pounds could be considered a schoolie. Still, this schoolie was a firecracker. She put a big time bend in Kristo’s shaft.)
The next day, it was my turn. I had been in the water only half an hour when I saw them. It was just like Pete said. It was like the wettest of my saltwater dreams, a tuna whorehouse with a beauty pageant of voluptuous vixens parading twenty feet below me. I dove down. There were big ones, small ones, each undulating with graceful moves, their skin shimmering iridescent in the crystal blue water. I had to make a choice. Then I saw her. She was magnificent, a beauty with luscious pectoral fins and a graceful swing to her tail fin. It was love at first sight. I had to have her! I couldn’t blow it. I had to have her NOW! I locked her in my sights. Oh please God, I can’t blow this, I prayed. I held my breath…no wait… I was already holding my breath because I was under water. Anyway, I aimed. Now? No NOW!! I pulled the trigger. BOOM! My shaft ejaculated. It was like cupid’s arrow as it blasted out and struck her square in her little fish heart. This beauty was mine! One hundred and four pounds of undressed sashimi and she was mine, all mine!
Well, what can I say? My shame was gone. Now I could hold my head up high. Once again, I was a man among men. And I was happy, so happy.
Over the four days of diving, our group boated fourteen tunas. The insatiable tuna deviate Jose Santeiro was the top man with five fish, his biggest at one hundred eighty five. Kristo shot two at over a hundred pounds each. I was the low man with only the one, but still, it was a magnificent one, 104 lbs that with cautious mendacity, I could exaggerate up to at least 150 lbs, but more importantly, my tuna cherry was profoundly popped and I was no longer a lowly wretched tuna virgin.
TUNA VIRGIN POPS CHERRY
All my friends had done it. They had all shot tuna and it seemed like that was all they could talk about. They’d go on for hours about who shot the biggest or who got the most. All their bragging and bullshit was really getting to me. It got to the point that whenever the subject of tuna came up, I would just walk away. The truth was, I was embarrassed and I was ashamed because… God help me… I was still a TUNA VIRGIN!!
I don’t know what I was doing wrong but somehow; I couldn’t get to first base with the local tunas. I chummed. I dove under porpoise, I tried every trick in the book but those Southern California tunas were playing it way too hard to get.
My repeated failures depressed the hell out of me. But then one day, I realized something. I had to make a choice. Was I going to live the rest of my life under the cloud of shameful tuna virginity or was I going to stand up like a man and do something about it? I made up my mind right then and there that I was going to have to go South of the border where rumor had it that the tunas were easy.
I contacted my friend Pete Correale at Spearfishing Panama. Pete considers himself a “guide”. I think of him more as a TUNA PIMP for a TUNA BROTHEL. Pete said, “Sure, I’ll put you on tuna. Hannibal Bank is the perfect place for virgins like you to pop their tuna cherries” I knew I was talking to the right man. Pete told me that April at Hannibal is pretty much like spring break everywhere. Party time. Mating season. Easy action. Tunas just aching to take on my 60 inch shaft….Wahoo! Sign me up! I said.
So I booked a trip with Spearfishing Panama and a short time later, I was in the water on Hannibal bank. Sure enough, this tuna whorehouse was stuffed to the gills with the sexiest tunas ever wiggle to their tail fins.
Joe Farlo was the most experienced man in our panga. He had had more notches on his tuna gun than anybody I had ever met. I was in awe of him. His cannon was HUGE, over six feet long with nine beefy bands and a Mori slip tip that was sure to toggle.
Just as you would expect, and rightfully so, Joe was the first of us to score. He had told me he liked the fatties, so true to his word, he chose a fat and sassy beauty that was over two hundred pounds. He lured her into range with gifts of sparkling sardine chum. Then as she approached, all innocent and unaware and doe eyed, he drove his massive 72 inch shaft into her. Joe’s size was too much for her. She bucked violently then dove for the bottom pulling Joe’s three atmosphere float down to forty feet. But Joe wasn’t letting her get away with it. She would be his no matter what. Seconds later, when the float resurfaced, Joe grabbed the bungie line and inch by inch, pulled his struggling captive back up to thirty feet. Then, taking his own sweet time, when he was UP, really UP for a second round, if you know what I mean, he drilled her again. Her body convulsed and twisted with climactic spasms as Joe pulled her into his arms and held her until her the movement ceased and her submission was complete.
Moments later the panga approached and Joe, cool as a cucumber, boated the bitch, then lit up a Marlboro.
Okay, call me a voyeur or whatever, but I had to watch. It was the only way I could learn. I was in the water just a few feet away and I studied every nuance of the battle. I learned one thing for sure. Joe certainly had the technique. He knew what he was doing. I hoped that one day when my cursed virginity was gone, I could be a first class tuna stud like my friend Joe Farlo.
The second of our group to score was Kristo Dodie. Kristo is a Greek/American from Westminister California. Kristo confided in me that he likes them “young and barely legal”. He perused the line up of schooling young ones until he spotted a nice fifty pounder with lovely curves. (By the standards of what were seeing that epic day, fifty pounds could be considered a schoolie. Still, this schoolie was a firecracker. She put a big time bend in Kristo’s shaft.)
The next day, it was my turn. I had been in the water only half an hour when I saw them. It was just like Pete said. It was like the wettest of my saltwater dreams, a tuna whorehouse with a beauty pageant of voluptuous vixens parading twenty feet below me. I dove down. There were big ones, small ones, each undulating with graceful moves, their skin shimmering iridescent in the crystal blue water. I had to make a choice. Then I saw her. She was magnificent, a beauty with luscious pectoral fins and a graceful swing to her tail fin. It was love at first sight. I had to have her! I couldn’t blow it. I had to have her NOW! I locked her in my sights. Oh please God, I can’t blow this, I prayed. I held my breath…no wait… I was already holding my breath because I was under water. Anyway, I aimed. Now? No NOW!! I pulled the trigger. BOOM! My shaft ejaculated. It was like cupid’s arrow as it blasted out and struck her square in her little fish heart. This beauty was mine! One hundred and four pounds of undressed sashimi and she was mine, all mine!
Well, what can I say? My shame was gone. Now I could hold my head up high. Once again, I was a man among men. And I was happy, so happy.
Over the four days of diving, our group boated fourteen tunas. The insatiable tuna deviate Jose Santeiro was the top man with five fish, his biggest at one hundred eighty five. Kristo shot two at over a hundred pounds each. I was the low man with only the one, but still, it was a magnificent one, 104 lbs that with cautious mendacity, I could exaggerate up to at least 150 lbs, but more importantly, my tuna cherry was profoundly popped and I was no longer a lowly wretched tuna virgin.
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My first triple digit Wahoo… This fish was a mile stone for me… I’ve always had a love affair with Wahoo, and a hundred pounder was top of my bucket list as far back as I can remember…. I was diving in the Sea of Cortez the day before heading over to the Pacific side to run a trip. We were out on a spot that historically has produced some solid sized Hoo’s. It was slow, and that spot can be very hit or miss. After a handful of fruitless drifts, we ran back up current for what would probably be the last drift of the day. Just as i settled in, I was on the surface panning back and forth, peering through the blue, and this fish appeared on my flasher out of nowhere. It actually caught be off guard. In haste, i made a somewhat “sloppy” shallow dive, and almost shot over the fishes back. Luckily i hit high on its back, and nicked its spine before toggling on the other side of its body. I was using a gun with a reel. The fish made one explosive run, but after that I had it up in my hands fairly quickly. The whole thing was actually pretty uneventful. I didn't realize how big it actually was until we had it in the boat. Back at the beach it went 112 pounds on the scale… I was riding high!!!
I was going through old photos, and this fish popped up in the memory bank…… Almaco Jack, NOT to be confused with a Amberjack. You will often see people confusing the two, and though we have Almaco’s in the states, we don’t see the same size ones that are common down in Mexico and Central and South America. Ive shot probably hundreds, if not more, of these in my years spent south of the border, but this one was a stand out. We were diving a small pinnacle down in Panama, and this particular day it was really covered in life. This Almaco went 106 pounds on the scale. I shot it with a 115cm Alemanni with a reel. I remember this fish kicked my ass, but I finally got it up and in my hands with no use of a float or a second shot. We took a couple more giants off that spot that day, and if memory serves me right, I believe we had at least one more of these over a hundred pounds that day…..
