Which brings me to my next disclaimer:
Spearfishing is f'n dangerous!
Being an expert sight fisherman and tracking White Sea Bass for a living, I've never once thought of spearing one. I've even free-dove with giant White Sea Bass a few times. It was an incredible experience swimming with those fish and something I'll always remember. It was as if they knew I wasn't holding a gun. Something I'll most certainly be doing again. I've dove at night in search of Lobster for the last fifteen years, too. I'm very much at home below the surface. But, I've never so much as picked up a speargun until this day. I'm reluctant to admit, I had a near-death experience within five minutes of picking one up for the first time as well.
True story: after watching lock-jaw fish swim around with zero interest to our offerings, I decided to just go for it. Why not? I searched the big-blue for days to find this thing and these fish were giving me the finger. Not to mention, time was running out. After trying every trick in the book from chunking fresh baits, to brailing live squid, to using ridiculously light line I had seen enough. The only thing these fish were going to eat was steel---and I was going to give it to them. I jump in with my mask and ask for a few pointers as I strap my Go Pro to my head. I vaguely remember my friend say something along the lines of, "watch out for the recoil", as I attempt to load the gun. I think to myself, recoil, sure yeah got it---blindly focused on trying to film something for the Discovery channel. What's the big deal---it's only 3,000' deep, right? What could possibly go wrong?
Little did I know at the time that, of course, the camera wasn't recording video. It was capturing still photos instead. Anyone with a Go Pro knows exactly what I'm talking about here. With a loaded gun in my hands I quietly approach the paddy. The fish are swimming just down current from the only shade in town. It's without question, one of the most breathe taking sights you'll ever see. There's this giant Mola Mola guarding the paddy. Thousands of Salp in my face and just as many micro baits in every direction. Through the haze, I see the school of Dorado come into view and begin my stalk. If you know me you'll realize I'm pretty competitive. In essence, I wasn't coming up without a fish. Or so I thought.
I lined up on what looked like a nice Dorado the same way I'd line up on a Billiard shot. You know, a game with money on the line? I control my breathing and try and minimize my movement. I'm staring straight down the barrel and aiming for the eyes as my target turns broadside---then I pull the trigger and am knocked unconscious.
When I come to, I had just started to swallow water and I'm coughing and gagging. I clear my breathing tube and am surrounded by Dorado. Instinctively, I grab the gun and line. I then realize that my fish had sunk to the depths like a rock; unbeknownst to me I had stoned the fish. A dead center perfect shot right at the gill line. When I shot the fish she was on the surface, but was straight down by the time I realized what was going on. I proceed to swim back to the boat and keep what had just happened to myself.
I'll just blame that on a weird concoction of pride, adrenaline, and determination to redeem myself. A truly selfish moment that I'm not very proud of. Apparently the gun slammed me in the face pretty hard. In a freak, last second decision, I brought the weight belt back to the boat before swimming off. That split second decision, apparently, saved my life. I had never worn one before and felt like I was struggling to stay near the surface. I had put way too much weight on there and the fish were on the surface, anyway. Had that weight belt been around my waist, I'm 100% positive, that I wouldn't be telling this story.
Kind of sketched and for very good reason. I slowed down my breathing and immediately developed a new level of respect for spearfishing. Gnarly. Instead of filming a clip for the Discovery channel I almost filmed my last catch. The thought of my camera floating to the surface. The floating gun attached to a stoned Dorado. A confused friend searching through the night freaking the f--k out! A lot of reflection was going on in the minutes to follow. And rightfully so. I snap out of it, regroup, grab a different gun and swim back to the paddy. Otherwise I might have never picked up a gun again. If anything, an attempt at redemption felt necessary at this juncture in time.
This dive was similar, but my perspective had completely changed. As cliche as it sounds, all the colors seemed even more vibrant. The 400 lb Mola Mola is guarding the up current side of the floating city. It was as if I never left. I look off in the distance and slowly through the haze, I see my targets. They're curious by nature. And eventually swim a giant circle behind the paddy. I'm waiting and really trying to find a larger model this time. This might be my second time holding a spear gun, but after all, I'm a fisherman. I then spot the particular fish I'm looking for and prepare my stalk. To my amazement the school changes direction as I'm pointing at the largest fish I could find. Then BOOM---I fire off my shot. Only this time I'm prepared for the recoil---and my camera is actually recording. Video to follow.
My second shot and my second Dorado!
I'm stoked out of my mind as I swim back to the boat. Like I said, you'll never see a prettier fish in local waters. They're not worth dying for, though. Whether you're a kook who's never held a speargun (like myself) or an unprepared kayak angler blinded by gold, it's just a fish. An incredibly beautiful fish.