Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 5, 2025
And likewise not one out of twenty-five sailfish brought in there is caught by a fisherman who deliberately went out after sailfish. Mostly they are caught by accident while drags are set for kingfish or barracuda. At Palm Beach I believe they fish for them quite persistently, with a great deal of success. But it is more a method of still fishing which has no charms for me.
Obviously the fish had been attracted by the blood or the struggles of the snapper. Rick hoped that his big brothers wouldn't join him. This one was plenty big enough. While Scotty held both floats, Rick charged his gun, pulling back the strong rubbers a pair at a time. Then he checked his safety line, filled his lungs, and went under. The barracuda hovered, waiting.
Rick knew from underwater flash photographs that the appearance was deceptive. The colors remained, but the quality of light changed. Scotty hooted four times, the signal for danger! Rick looked and saw a barracuda hovering near by. He gulped. The fish was easily five feet long.
Something they are doing around that devil-island. What kinds of laws they're breaking out there nobody knows. They may be doing anything from shooting fish to catching chicken-halibut or baby barracuda. We don't know what. But we do know they're mighty touchy on who cruises round El Diablo. When our boats get around that infernal island something always happens. You know that."
Rick put his face down in the water again while Scotty secured the catch to his float. As he did so he saw a target and hooted for attention. Scotty joined him and they looked down to where a barracuda hovered motionless. The 'cuda was perhaps two and a half feet long, not big as such predators went, but big enough. Scotty motioned to Rick to get him.
"If they knew we'd been snooping around before, they'd probably claim that the octopus really did wail, and that they were only recording him. Your gag about screaming squid and burbling barracuda would appeal to them, Tony." The archaeologist chuckled. "Anyway, we got out of that one pretty well. I had a little trouble banging my tank. Didn't want to do it overtly, of course.
I failed to hook my fish. It was getting along pretty well into the afternoon by this time and the later it got the better the small fish and kingfish seemed to bite. I caught one barracuda and six kingfish, while R. C. was performing a somewhat similar feat. Then he got a smashing strike from a sailfish that went off on a hard, fast rush, so that he hooked it perfectly.
Then, equally incredibly, he turned with still greater ferocity and rushed the bonita again, but before he could get to it another and smaller barracuda had hold of it. At this instant I leaned over with a club. With one powerful sweep I hit one of the barracuda on the head. When I reached over again the largest one was contending with a smaller one for the remains of the bonita.
We went off Seal Rocks and trolled about five miles out. We met a sand-dabber who said he had seen a big broadbill back a ways. So we turned round. After a while I saw a big, vicious splash half a mile east, and we made for it. Then I soon espied the fish. We worked around him awhile, but he would not take a barracuda or a flying-fish. It was hard to keep track of him, on account of rough water.
The light was reduced somewhat by the murk, but visibility was good. Rick had brought his camera to take motion pictures around the wreck. There would be enough light. Scotty carried the big jet spear gun. It was powerful enough to spear sharks or big barracuda, just in case the frogmen decided to be "mischievous" again.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking