ALBACORA 157 



big fish. It was light enough to give the fish an even 

 break, and strong enough for any power I could apply. 

 Lou was using thirty-nine-thread, one hundred and ten- 

 pound test. 



The boys had prepared beautiful bait, which lay 

 across the ice in the bait box. They were seven-pound 

 skipjack, whose spines Mario and Gus had removed. 

 The boys had skillfully sewed the gaping walls of the 

 fish together and tied hooks well in front of the skip- 

 jacks' mouths. Since the broadbill takes the bait head 

 on, the loose hook folds back as it is picked up. It is 

 considered the best hooking method and is called the 

 Catalina. 



I scanned the sea. Great black clouds of Guani birds 

 had flown out of the harbor with us. Now, five hours 

 later, the birds still covered the sky. Suddenly I heard a 

 shout from the mast. 



"Albacora. Grande albacora!" Mario bellowed. 



Gus, from his place on the mast, pointed frantically 

 to starboard. Then Lou spotted it. 



"That must be two fish, Walt," I heard Lou cry. 

 "Those fins are too far apart." 



I stared out at the flat, glazed ocean. Two figures 

 stood up in the distance, and I could not help but laugh. 



"That's not albacora," I said. "It's a couple of com- 

 mercial men standing in their boat." 



Howard rushed to the bait. "Take another look, 

 Genie," he said. 



Walt was speeding the Explorer toward whatever it 



