Bluewater Hunting and Freediving
heels, video camera in hand, documenting our attempts. We decided it was best to have one diver and one safety / cameraman. It would be foolish if we both shot a fish at the same time. We’ d be dragged to opposite ends of the ocean! Finally, a bluefin tuna appeared at the periphery! We both had a gut feeling it would aim directly for the piece of bait in front of me. Sure enough, it turned quickly and came for the bait that was sinking seven meters below the surface. It all happened in an instant.
Steve viewed the fish head on and saw that its width was enormous. He recalls,“ Dean turned quickly and took a perfect shot through the top of the head. I couldn’ t believe the placement— it was phenomenal! After all of our preparation and anticipation, I mentally yelled,‘ Yeehaaaa!’ I marveled at the size and grace of this fish coupled with the skill and precision of Dean’ s shot. The giant didn’ t take off as quickly as I thought it might, but it did stretch out Dean’ s Riffe bungee to the maximum. Obviously hurt, it couldn’ t pull the Rob Allen 35-liter float below the surface for very long. Now the real battle began. I had to swim a fast freestyle just to keep up with Dean as he held onto his outstretched bungee. It echoed through the water with a deep harmonic thrumming. I was trying to keep up while carrying the video camera. Attempting to document the ensuing battle proved not so good for the breath holding
I slowly gained some bungee by clipping it off and resting, before pulling again. Finally, after approximately 55 minutes, I managed to load my second gun and make another holding shot. Steve still couldn’ t believe his eyes.“ It was a horse!” he’ d later recall. Without a reference, we had no idea how big the fish truly was. We only gained perspective of its monumental size when we gaffed it and realized that it required five motivated men, struggling mightily, to pull it on board! As you can imagine, there was a lot of yelling and excitement on the boat, whilst the skipper predicted it would weigh approximately 300 kgs. Nobody could believe their eyes. It was surreal; never in our wildest dreams could we have imagined spearing a fish like this.
At 12:30 p. m., it was getting late. According to our schedule, we had just three hours left to hunt. This was a self-imposed time limit that would allow up to two and a half hours to land a fish before dark. It took me an hour just to cut out both icepick
144 spearheads from the fish and re-rig the gun with 300-kg mono. We were now down to two hours left for Steve’ s attempt. Three separate rounds of ground bait chumming yielded no results. The skipper declared that Steve was down to his final chance. It was 3:30 p. m., and Steve was wondering who the idiot was who made such stupid rules( oops, that was him). Talk about pressure!
The crew found some fish with the sounder and began grinding bait. Steve assured the crew there was no way he would shoot a fish in the side— only a head shot for him. He rolled over the side of the boat and found a few bluefin cruising through the chum. As his heart raced, the skipper’ s voice echoed in his head,“ Last chance.” Suddenly, he saw a fish come just within range and shot at its side, his spear going completely through two foot of flesh! Later, the crew“ gave him heaps” about his own videotaped declaration of never shooting a fish from the side.
Steve thought,“ Bad mistake!” He was just half way to the surface when his 30-meter float line, his 35-liter float, and his fully-stretched second float line shot by. Luckily, he skillfully grabbed the board before it too vanished into the gloom. Because of the fish’ s massive lunges and the approaching darkness, Steve was worried he wouldn’ t be able to land the fish by himself. He was determined to end the fight at nightfall, with or without the fish. Thinking,“ I’ m no hero,” he did not want to subject himself or me to the danger of getting tangled in the fishing line. The fight is dangerous enough during daylight.
Thankfully, the fish’ s power and stamina slowly abated. The skipper’ s depth finder indicated that it was 60 meters down. The next hour was the hardest Steve had ever experienced. He lunged with all his strength, making just millimeter gains between rests before another go. Steve recovered his fish around 5:30 p. m., much to his relief. We were both proud and pleased to have landed our fish following IUAS word-record rules to the letter.
On board, the very happy crew shared many awesome stories during our journey back to shore. The following morning— 22 hours after I had landed my fish— both fish were officially weighed. Steve’ s weighed 235 kgs and mine weighed a mindblowing 292 kgs. The weights were all the more impressive when taking into account that both fish lost a lot of blood and moisture from the time of capture until weighing.