It sure beats working for the Kiwi dollar

Mana (Auckland), Volume 2, Issue 1, 6 April 1978, Page 5

It sure beats working for the Kiwi dollar

Poem by

A. Siakimotu

FISHING ... to a Niuean (some may disagree with me on this) is not SPORT, HOBBY, RELAXATION or otherwise BUT a cold, sober NECESSITY. This was more so before the ALUMINIUM DINGHY era and to some extend still prevailed.

The day (Saturday) was no different to any other Saturday fishing expedition . . .

early wakening rushed down the sea motored out into deep sea cruised up and down Tepa point . . . the usual . . . nothing fascinating. Motoring past Tepa point . . . TWANG!! first strike for the day (my mate), it shot right out of the water . . . PA ALA. A fair sized fish, coz a 100 kg B/S nylon line snapped where the swivel is attached to the trace wire. Bait was used . . . ULIHEGA. Thinking I might have better luck with the lure. I had out (if if s still around after all that). . . a gradual turn and another strike, a small one. I can tell by the weight and the way it fought. Suddenly, POW!! . . . the dinghy swerved, the line went sizzling out. (Every thing just happened at once), so fast did it go that it was impossible to hang on to it without getting severe friction burns. (If you thing otherwise, then I'll raise my hat, you’re a blooming hero). It happened so quickly and so sudden that it took a while to recollect one's senses (call it REFLEXES if you like). What with trying to dodge the madly bouncing nylon roll and at the same time, keeping it in. (Ypu fishermen know what it’s like).

Time (I wouldn’t have a clue, anyway, who worries about such trivialities at a time like this), I’d approximate it however, at 6.00 a.m. give to take a couple of minutes.

The line had a free run for about 100 m and then got tangled. I had no idea at this stage what was hooked but from the way it fought and carried on, gave a fair impression of its SIZE.

SHARK . . . was the first thing that came to mind (JAWS, didn't help either). Man, I was not game to tangle with an animal that big, (if it turned out to be a shark) so was at the point of cutting it, when it slackened and I hauled in as much line as I could so as to play it out again. This was the continued pattern throughout . . . slack, haul in, play out . . . slack, haul in etc., etc.

Very tiring work it was, but compensated by the thought that this must be the old fella himself. It tired itself out 1% hours later . . . PHEW!! . . . and surfaced peacefully . . . thank goodness. This, you may find hard to believe . . . TWO ON ONE LINE

. . . a smaller and mangled tuna further u p the trace wire and a monstrous one on the hook. I’ll leave you to figure it out for yourself . . .

The fish gaffed, knifed, hammered and towed ashore, gutted and was finally weighed. It tipped the scales (GUTTED) at a good 185 lbs. What it brought in monetary terms was enough to set one to serious thinking ... a full time occupation??? . . . then again

. .' . these are the dreams of the everyday fisherman ... It sure beats working (for the Kiwi dollar).