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A likely story.
A likely story.
I had just read a book called "The Last Of The Blue Water Hunters". A really cool book about extreme spearfishing. One chapter was about custom made spear tips. And so, fired up with enthusiasm and being the genius that I am I decided that I would make my own unique, super cool spear tip. When I finished, it was real sweet. It had an efficient design and it looked good too.
My next dive was up Toco side.
I had been in the water only about fifteen minutes when I came upon a seventy five pound grouper. My shot wasn’t the best, it hit it in the shoulder, so to speak. The fish of course immediately started beating up and dragging me all over the sea. I held on to my gun as best I could, but after only about ten seconds my line went slack. When I pulled in my spear I saw that my custom made tip had broken in half..
Of course I was devastated. But not in the way that you think. Spearfishermen don’t mind missing a fish, when that happens they just smile and say, “Good luck to you partner.” What makes a spearfisherman scream inside is the thought of a wounded fish suffering to death inside a hole in a rock somewhere. For years after my thoughts would run on that fish and I would cringe.
Anyway, it was about five years later that I was diving in a place called Breakfast River when I encountered a two hundred pound grouper. This time my shot was perfect, a brain shot, It didn't even move.
The next day I sent the fish to the butcher to get it cut up.
When I returned that same evening to pick it up the butcher man was real vexed. “You! ..... you! .....you trying to kill people or what? You don’t know that leaving a spear tip inside of a fish can snap a saw blade and seriously injure somebody or even kill them?”
“Spear-tip?” I said. “What spear-tip? What' you talkin about? I don’t know anything about no spear-tip.” I told him that I had caught the fish and taken out my spear and I could show him the spear if he wanted. And If that was my spear tip then it would mean that the fish would have gotten away, so how could it be mine. I told him that, “Absolutely............... positively..............definitely................one hundred percent guaranteed........... that • was • not • my • spear • tip.”
Still vexed, he reached under the counter, pulled out an object and slammed it down. I took one look at it and said, “That’s my spear-tip.”
Just goes to show how wrong you can be.
That was the same fish that I had shot five years earlier. And all that time it had my spear-tip inside it.