ALBACORA 21 



Stuck. My legs thrashed and my stomach hurt and I 

 screamed. "Help," I pleaded. "Lou. Anyone. Get me 

 down." I might just as well have held my breath. With 

 albacora near, no one had time for a lady in distress. 



Eventually, it was Mario who condescended to rescue 

 me. He grabbed me around the middle and tugged. I 

 landed safely on the bait box. Then Mario turned his 

 attention back to the fish. "There," he said, pointing 

 ahead of us. "See, there." Knifing through the bright 

 blue water, about 100 feet in front of the Explorer, a 

 dorsal fin and a tail showed clearly. They were a good 

 distance apart but they were both part of the same fish. 

 It was a giant albacora. 



Knighthood never flowered on a fishing boat, and 

 even under less dramatic conditions I would not have 

 been overly shocked at Lou's neglect of me. What with 

 the albacora, I could not blame him at all. K he had 

 been stuck and I were pursuing an albacora, Lou prob- 

 ably would have had to holler for a good long time 

 before I'd have been willing to drop the fish and go to 

 my husband's aid. 



As it was, everybody was watching Walt Gorman 

 maneuver the boat around the fish. Slowly, the Explorer 

 circled toward the broadbill while Hedley prepared to 

 start shooting. There was majesty in the graceful weav- 

 ing movement of the great fish, but Hedley was waiting 

 for a strike — a strike that never came. Suddenly the 

 fins disappeared beneath the surface. We knew what 



