Personal Note
My elderly dad, who is
suffering from cancer, broke his hip Sunday morning. I have to go to Georgia to
be with my mom, who isn’t well enough to be alone. I don’t know when I’ll
return to posting the blog. My parents don’t have an internet connection.
Prayers would be appreciated.
Guest Post—last
installment by Diane Kane
THE ONE THAT DIDN’T GET
AWAY
BY DIANE KANE
During the
next thirty minutes, the shark jumped completely out of the water three times.
This attracted a sizable audience of various boats, including the entire
cheering crew of a Navy ship. In one heart stopping moment, a small boat nearly
drove right across my line while they were admiring this awesome animal
pivoting its entire body about 30 feet straight in the air. They were unaware
that it was connected to our boat by a thin nylon line, until at the last
minute they realized that was probably why eight screaming maniacs were
yelling, jumping up and down and blowing the horn at them!
I had reeled him near the boat twice but
Captain Bob was unable to get a clear shot with the harpoon. I could tell when
the shark was getting close by the nasty little knot that had tangled in my
line. It was after 30 minutes of continuous reeling when the elusive fish shot
back out of the water for the second time, taking three quarters of my line
from the reel again, when Captain Bob informed me, “It will be a miracle to
land this fish.” Well, I wasn’t quite
sure I believed in modern miracles but my boat full of faithful followers kept
me going. That and the thought, if I complained just a little, there were six
guys that were dying to grab that pole away from me.
Therefore I
pulled the rod tight into my already bruised hip and willed my sore arm to keep
on reeling. After another 20 minutes, I spotted that nasty little knot in my
line that told me the shark was near. Just then I saw it snap, I felt the line
go limp and my heart sank to my feet. It was all for nothing, I thought.
But no! Just
as the line had snapped, Captain Bob, with a shot that would have put Captain
Quint to shame, had found his mark. As he tied the massive fish to the side of
the boat, since it would not fit on board, a tear came to my eye and an ache to
my arm that would last for the next couple weeks.
Captain Bob turned to shake my hand and said
with a sly smile, “Next time you go fishing with a bunch of guys, don’t act
like such a girl.” Lollie said this was Captain talk for “Job well done!”
Captain Bob
phoned everyone he knew on the ride in and we docked to a crowd of photographers
and reporters. We could have sold the catch of the day for a dollar a pound at
the dock, but after nearly an hour of getting to know him, we were not ready to
part company with this 411 lb giant of the sea. So we loaded the infamous
animal in the back of Dominic’s Toyota pickup truck, along with 900 lbs of ice,
generously donated by admirers at the Newport Icehouse. Then we made our way up
Interstate 495, much to the disbelief of passing cars. When this fish out of
water landed next, miles away from its original home, he was greeted again by
newspaper photographers. “MIRACLE CATCH,” the headlines read.
But this was
not the end of his journey. In a desperate search for a taxidermist who would
agree to stuff this enormous creature, a twist of fate lead us to Mr. John
Bulduc of Wells, Maine. He was the only man we could find who was brave enough
to attempt this feat (9 ½ feet to be exact). Every other taxidermist we talked
to wanted to order a fiberglass replica and paint it to look like my shark. We wanted
the real thing or nothing. Well, it was almost nothing. We had given up, when
Dominic and his cousin Pete the butcher were getting ready to cut up Mako
steaks. That was when I decided to give it one more shot and call information
in Maine. The yellow page supervisor was just a little put out by my request to
read me a list of taxidermists on the Maine coast. So in a moment of
inspiration, I quickly asked if there were any taxidermists in Wells, Maine. I
knew Wells was on the coast and it also happened to be my maiden name. I
quickly wrote down the one number she gave me.
When I
called Mr. Bulduc, his first answer was the same as all the other taxidermists
we talked to, fiberglass replica. I proceeded to tell him the incredible story
and he was hooked. “Big fish, small fish, it’s all the same procedure,” he said
slowly. “I’ll do it!” I called Dominic and Pete just before they were about to
make the first cut.
So we put
the shark back in the truck and packed him with ice and he was on the road again,
this time to the shores of Maine, where he was met again by local newspaper
photographers. You see, Mr. Bulduc was just a little excited himself. He failed to mention to me on the phone that
he had never stuffed a fish over two feet long before. But he assured me again,
“It’s all the same process.” He immediately extracted 200 lbs of shark meat,
which we sold to various markets, as well as being the special of the day at
The Barre Mill Restaurant.
Six months
later, Mr. Bulduc called to say mission accomplished. The scars that covered
his hands were inflicted by razor like teeth from when he had extracted the
jaw. They would fade eventually but I got the feeling he wished they
wouldn’t. Now our shark was ready to
ride again. This time no ice would be necessary. Packed tightly in a hand crafted wooden crate
made especially for him, my Mako came home to The Barre Mill Restaurant. Dominic
had to make a 9 and half foot notch in the wall over the bar to accommodate
him. There he hangs to this day in all his glory for everyone to see, the
believers and non-believers alike.
As for me, I
believe in miracles!
