¡Sí, Se Puede!
When we came back from Sport Fish Panama Island Lodge in April, I was on a high, but also a little bit embarrassed – I’d let a 130 pound tuna get the best of me. It took the collective efforts of me and my friends Ray and Sandee Heredia about an hour to get the big beast into the boat.
I realized that between COVID-era snacking, failure to exercise, and the muscle mass lost to aging, I was at a nadir of physical fitness. I could probably still run a little, but whatever upper body strength I’d once maintained had dissipated. I needed to get to a better place physically before we returned in November.
Spoiler Alert: As the calendar pages turned, I did not get back into shape during the seven month gap between trips. I had good intentions but no follow-through. I arrived in Panama hoping that improved technique might benefit me, but wary that I might get my ass kicked again. It didn’t take long to find out because the tuna were larger this time around, averaging somewhere between 40 and 70 pounds apiece.
On the second day of fishing, the captain handed me a rod with a 70-pounder tugging at the end of the line and I settled in to subdue the big tuna. Just one problem: I’m lefthanded, so I normally hold the rod in my left (stronger) arm and reel with my right. This reel had the handle on the “wrong” side. It took a while but I managed to get the fish to the gaff. I felt pretty good about myself, although I’m sure that a substantially larger fish would have gotten the best of me. As our new friend Carl Vicars said of his own battle with a similarly-sized fish that same day: “I’m not sure if I won or it won, and he’s dead.”
My bubble was burst a little bit when we got back to the island and I learned that our friend Samantha Sukupcak, all of 90-pounds-soaking-wet, had singlehandedly brought a 100-pounder to the boat.
My bubble was burst even more the next day. As we popped up front, one of the bait rods got whacked and it was my turn so I ran to the back and grabbed it. Once again, the handle was on the WRONG.DAMN.SIDE – and the fish was BIG. I would occasionally gather enough traction to get in a few turns of the handle, but the fish would invariably gain back all of that line, and a few dozen yards more. After about 20 minutes of wrong-handed reeling, I handed the rod off to Mike Yee, who made it about the same amount of time, then gave it to Samantha. We cycled back through the group again before Mike (with the Captain’s excellent outboard assistance) got the fish to the surface. A brilliant Hail Mary gaff job by the mate Titico got the fish stuck, although we had to grab him by the belt loops to make sure he didn’t end up on the bottom of the Gulf.
Captain Shane estimated it at over 200 pounds and per the online weight calculator its dimensions (69.5” from nose to the tip of the tail’s fork, With a girth of 43.5”) put it right at 205.
I don’t know how much longer I could have lasted if the handle had been set up to favor my dominant hand. I’d like to get another shot, at least on one over a 100 pounds. I’m tired of leaving Panama feeling simultaneously thrilled and deflated. I have something to prove to myself.
