A True Shark Story

Guest Post by Diane Kane

Diane and I met at a writer’s group that started at our local book store that unfortunately went out of business. Diane works as a mail carrier and is a wife, mom, grandmother, and fast-developing writer in her spare time. The following is a true story she graciously agreed to share and that will be continued in installments over the next two weeks.

THE ONE THAT DIDN’T GET AWAY

BY DIANE KANE

“IT’S A SHARK!”

 The words of Captain Bob Lavalley of the 37 foot charter fishing boat “Fishin’ Off”, out of Newport, Rhode Island still echo in my mind.

The headlines read, “411 lb, 9 ½ foot Mako shark caught less than two miles off Newport, RI beach.” A newsworthy story in itself since sharks that size are not known to be in so close to shore. Add to that, it was caught from a boat rigged for only 20 lb bluefish. Have I got you hooked yet? Well, top it off with the fact it was caught on 40 lb test line and oh, did I mention it was reeled in by a woman! Hard to swallow? Well, this is no fish story.

September 11, 1989, it was a hot day, well into the 80’s, a perfect day for a leisurely fishing trip or so I thought. I didn’t think the name “Orca” was printed on the bow of the boat and I was sure it wasn’t “Captain Quint” at the helm, yet close by silently awaited my “Jaws.”

On Board was Dominic Coppolino, owner of the Barre Mill Restaurant where I was employed as assistant head chef. Also along for the fun were my husband Tom and three friends Scott, Jesse and Chris. The first mate, Lollie, and I were the only women on board that day.

It was my first deep-sea fishing trip, so the guys were being just a little patronizing to me as they planned the pool. “Let’s make it five dollars apiece for the first fish and five dollars each for the biggest… Is that ok with you, Diane?” they asked with smugness.

When we set anchor, Chris commented on how calm the sea was. “If the fishing isn’t any good, we could go for a swim,” he said.

Lollie, the fist mate, warned him against it. “Sometimes small makos follow the fishing boats to feed on the bluefish,” she said.

“What’s a mako?” I asked innocently.

“Shark!” she exclaimed. “Cousin to the great white, not so big but faster and more dangerous.” Little did I know, I was soon to meet my mako.

Lollie baited the poles with small fish that she cut in half. Disregarding any manners, the guys grabbed the first five poles in their eagerness to win the pool for the first fish. Lollie took special care baiting mine and gave it a spit for good luck. I’ll never doubt fishing superstitions again. A few minutes later I reeled in a beauty of a bluefish. It put up a great fight and I was thrilled. My shipmates were just a little disgruntled, griping about beginners luck and having to pay me the first pool.

Lollie and I, comrades by this time, just gave each other a smirk as she baited my line again. This time she put on a whole bait fish and gave it an extra good spit. The guys were eagerly watching their poles in hopes of at least capturing the pool for the largest fish, when the tip of my pole bent over as if it would snap off. So, with barely a breather from my first catch, I began to reel in my second. Little did I know it would be almost an hour until I would be done reeling this one in.

“This one is bigger,” I said as I strained to reel it in. Of course my fishing mates thought this was just my way of adding insult to injury, complaining about my damn good luck. They were ready to throw me overboard. Thank goodness they didn’t!