ALBACORA 23 



miles an hour; it jumped away from the Explorer, 

 riding up to the crest of an enormous blue swell. Within 

 seconds, it was half hidden behind huge rolling waves. 

 If Lou was going to play tag in the skiff with a school 

 of marlin, I felt I had a right to some fishing too. I 

 made one concession, though. I stayed away from very 

 light tackle and selected a rig of stronger line that 

 tested at fifty pounds of pressure. I was anxious to fish 

 but this was no time to match light tackle against some 

 heavy adversary. As I scooted to the stem of the Ex- 

 plorer, lugging my fifteen-thread outfit, I expected only 

 to haul in fish one after the other, or, possibly, simply 

 to beat them off with a club. Lou's situation was entirely 

 different. 



Our stern was low in the water and sometimes a swell 

 completely cut the WaWa from my sight. Hedley, stand- 

 ing with his legs set wide apart on the bridge and shoot- 

 ing pictures at a furious clip, could see the WaWa con- 

 tinuously, but I could only spot it often enough to get a 

 vague idea of what Lou was doing. Walt had sped the 

 WaWa out ahead of the five biggest marlin and Lou 

 was trolling, trying to make the marlin see the bait. He 

 trolled successfully. All five of the marlin saw the bait 

 at once and lunged for it with fierce swipes of their 

 bills. After the marlin struck, Lou dropped his bait back 

 toward them, which was the only thing he could do. 



There is a real trick to baiting billfish. Usually, when 

 one of these monsters attacks, he first strikes out with 



