FISHING THE PACIFIC 



but found it enervating. Sometimes I may take a mouthful of 

 water but I spit it out. 



At the one-hour-and-thirty-five-minute mark I put added 

 pressure on for the next twenty minutes. I placed my harness 

 under my fanny, exerted a lot more drag on the reel and 

 sat up in the chair. The weight of heavy drag on 39-thread 

 can pull you out of the chair, so you sit right in the harness. 



Women anglers are consistently being pulled up and there- 

 fore do a lot of their fishing in this fashion. 



After about an hour and fifty-five minutes the leader came 

 out of the water but I refused to let the crew touch it. The 

 fish then sounded again. The sea was terribly rough by this 

 time, and it was getting dark. The marlin had taken me about 

 six miles north and some three miles inshore. I was off those 

 wonderful boulders known as the Organos, for their high 

 rocky ridges resemble the pipes of an organ. The condors 

 were flying over them and playing around our boat with the 

 usual boobies and man-of-war birds. Occasionally the penado 

 petrel hovered around. The marhn that had been keeping 

 company with my fish had disappeared by now and my 

 leader wire again came out of the water— but again I cau- 

 tioned the crew not to touch it. The gaffs on either side were 

 in readiness. Bates prepared to do the gaffing on the port side 

 and my boy McGill set to take the leader. Louis had my 

 chair and was ready to handle the gaff on the starboard side. 

 Captain Ha jus, at the uptop controls, was doing a wonderful 

 job of piloting the boat. He had learned from all of us as 

 well as from the American guides. When the leader emerged 

 for the third time, McGill reached for and grabbed it, but 

 could not maneuver the marhn within gaffing range. He was 



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