Spearfishing - Targeting a Striped Marlin

A late plan was made between James, Jack, and I to make the trip north to chase game fish. We were staying on board James’s 6.5 Marco Boat for the weekend, either at the Cavallis or Cape Brett. We launched at Waipapa and headed out towards where the fishing had apparently been good as of late.

Quite a way past the Ninepin, the water turned an inky blue and the water temperature rose to 22 degrees. Lots of boats were heading in the same direction, so we thought we must be going to the right place.

We had done several days out wide in past years, with little success on billfish. Although still pretty clueless about gamefish, we had learned a few things from the previous trips and had a rough plan for the day, and what we were going to do if something came up to the gear.

Once the scent in the air was perfect, the right eye started twitching and the sun was at the closest angle to that particular cloud, we knew it was time to start setting up the spread.

After a bit of fluffing about, we finally had the gear out. Nothing had hooks at this stage, but we were planning to run a couple at some point.

Seeing that the gear was out and I was togged up, I decided I should sit on the back of the boat for what I thought would be an uneventful first 30 minutes.

I had literally just checked my mask and placed it on my forehead when Jack called out, “There’s a fin! I just saw a fin!” I was thinking it was just a trick of the eye, but sure enough: a fin sliced through the wake right next to the starboard lure.

“Is that a big mako?” I turned to Jimmy, very unsure, and said “Bro, shall I get in?” He instantly replied: “Yeah, get in!” Wearing a minimal wetsuit, I slid off the back of the boat and straight under the surface without effort.

I saw it was a marlin, and it was coming in hot. It turned in a split second, darting up to the port teaser. As it flashed in front of me, still out of range, I saw another about the same size out to my left chasing the starboard lure. I was already committed to the first one though, and swam towards the port side. The fish went almost vertical in the water, its whole body shaking violently, trying to smack the teaser with its bill. I started swimming towards it, closing in, and waiting for a steady shot as it was still dancing about.

As I got within range, it noticed my presence, turned away and started powering off! I gave some big kicks, angled up towards it, reached out with the 140cm gun and shot as it quartered away. The other fish was still under my fins and I was pumped with adrenaline.

Ben getting towed.

I couldn’t tell exactly where I had hit my fish, but I knew it wasn’t a great shot. The floats reached me quickly and I held on to the last Mahi float – my cruise of the South Pacific Ocean had begun.

I called out to the boat to let them know it was a bad shot and that I needed another gun straight away. The only way I thought I could land it was by placing another shot on this very green fish as soon as possible.

It dived deep and the first big Mahi float was perfectly vertical. I was yelling at poor Jack to hurry up and give me the back-up gun. He swam like a mad dog trying to catch me. Luckily, he is fit and was able to catch me and swap guns. He did a great job throughout the fight, supporting me with gun replacements and new float lines the whole way. Eventually, I was able to dump the 140 and attempt to use the back-up gun.

Applying some pressure on the fish, I swam as hard as I could, awkwardly pulling myself along the floatline. Progress was slow, but I finally got up towards the fish’s big tail. I let off the shot, but the shaft barely reached the fish, and bounced off. The clear water and short gun had me fooled, and at this point I thought I’d lose the fish for sure.

After considerably more time voyaging across the Pacific, I was able to swap for yet another gun. Kicking as hard as I could, I got to where I thought I was in range and took another shot. The fish picked up speed just as I pulled the triggger, and the shaft barely penetrated and then promptly fell out. At this point, the fish knew what I was up to, and it had turned, eyeing me up. I thought it was going to turn and have a go at me, so I let go of everything and got out of its vision as quickly as I could.

The last shot definitely lit the fish up, and it put in more powerful swims. I couldn’t stay on the floats as they skimmed across the water, so I ended up having to swim back to the boat, where I changed to a 120cm gun. We then chased the floats again, trying to position me back on top of them.

After a couple of attempts, we managed to intercept the floats and I was able to grab them before the fish took off on another hard run. It would have been about 40 mins into the fight at this stage, and for the third time I swam up, inching towards the fish’s tail. Almost like shooting a JD with the gun on an angle, I managed to put one right through the centre of the fish, in line with its anal fin.

It's all over - the fish is brought to the surface.

I knew it was a solid holding shot this time, and I realised I was going to land it.

The fish’s big pulls got weaker and weaker, and I started shortening up the float line using a shark clip. Jack was able to jump in and film me put another shaft into the angry fish’s shoulder.

I swam down and put one last shot into its spine, just behind the head and it instantly lit up into beautiful florescent blue/purple and white colours as the fight ended.

All up, the fishing time was less than five minutes, but the fight took about an hour-and-a-half!

April 2022 - Ethan Neville
New Zealand Fishing News Magazine.
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