|114 lbs. 5 oz.
The last Friday in July, I decided to go on a solo fishing mission to get some fish for my ohana. I finished work at 2 p.m. and headed up north to one of my favorite fishing spots. I quickly unpacked my truck and got my lines in the water, hoping to get a high-tide bite.
After all my poles had live bait (including roi , mamo and taape) on them, I sat down for a couple of cold ones. The sun was setting when all of a sudden, my Newell 550 reel started ripping.
My roi got nailed! I fought whatever fish that was that found my bait tasty for about 10 minutes, before it got pinned down. Around another ten minutes later, my line was cut. I then retied, recast and rebaited my 12.5-foot IRW Slider rod with a nice-size taape. By then, it was about an hour before the slack low tide, which is my favorite tide to fish.
Forty-five minutes later I had an unreal strike, and all that racket woke me up from my nap: FISH ON! I fought it, but then it got stuck in the same spot as the previous fish. Just then, another pole I had a mamo on started going off. Double Strike! Since the big boy was pinned down, I ran and fought the fish on my other pole. After about 5 minutes, that fish spat my hook.
I ran back to the first pole, and started to free-spool my Newell 550, hoping the fish would free itself. And it did! Back and forth, left and right, up and down. Sweating, tired, beaten, I was not going to give up. About forty-five minutes later, I see color and think Ho, big ulua! as it hits the surface.
What now? Me, fishing by myself on a 20-foot cliff, with my 100-poundah 20 feet away. I managed to walk the ulua down 30 yards of rugged shorelline back to my pole gaff, where I climbed down and gaffed this beast. With my adrenaline pumping out of my body, I managed to pull the fish up a 10-foot cliff and secure him.
He was massive. One hour and 15 minutes from strike to the most CheeHoos! I have ever heard. I packed the fish to my truck and started packing up at 1:15 a.m. to head home. The fish stuck out of my 150-quart cooler by about 2 feet.
When I got home, my son Hazyn was already up, waiting to see this monster. I then took it to HonokMhau Charter desk and fuel dock to get it weighed. It tipped the scale at 114.5-lbs. I did it -- I made it: 100-Plus Club.
Big thank you to my family for supporting me and actually letting me go alone, and to anybody and everybody who has influenced me, talked fishing, took me fishing, taught me to fish... This ones for you!!!