The World's Best Fishing Story

     We were stationed in Key West, Florida from 1961 to 1962.  I'll never forget the initial trip to the island.  We had been home from our first tour of duty in Spain for about a month.  Kelly was fourteen months old and Joel was four.  During our leave time in Texas.  I had taken sick with the flu, so on the trip to Florida I was as sick as I've ever been in my life.
     The long, hot ride through the southern states seemed endless to me.  I was burning with fever, missing Rosario (my Spanish maid)  trying to cope with our two little children without her and  definitely experiencing culture shock.  I was a mess, physically and emotionally.  I thought when we reached the northern border of Florida that we were almost there.  Boy, was I wrong!  Florida has to be one of the longest states in the union! 
     We didn't have the money to stop at a motel so Ted drove straight through from Riesel, Texas to Key West, Florida.  I languished in a feverish stupor for most of the way, so I was no help to my poor, sleep-deprived husband.  Occasionally he would wake me up to tend to one of the kids but mostly he left me alone.
     Kelly probably closed her eyes for two hours the whole trip because she could never sleep in the car.  Usually that was annoying to all of us but I was thankful for it on this trip because I couldn't stay away to keep Ted awake, so she obliging sat in between us and chattered like a squirrel all the way.  Once in a while Joel or I would wake up and whine, "Please make her stop!"  As you can imagine it was a pretty miserable trip.  I remember as we crossed the bridge that connects the mainland of Florida to the Keys, I stared out at the endless miles of water and a foreboding came over me, "I'll probably not cross this bridge again until we're transferred from this state."  I said to Ted. It was a depressing yet prophetic thought.
     While not the most pleasant place we were ever stationed, Key West was certainly one of the most eventful.  Our son Timothy was born there.  We were there during the Cuban Crisis.  We lived in brand new base housing, right on a canal.  There Ted was able to meet President Kennedy and it was in Key West that Ted became a decorated hero when he risked his life to save a man from an overturned truck, but that's another story for later.  There also we learned a lot about the ocean, the beach, boating, fishing and Ted became an avid scuba diver and water skier.
     We fell in love with the ocean and deep sea fishing.  The other events deserve their own stories but this one is all about the fishing.
     I really didn't care much for swimming in the ocean.  The salt water wasn't refreshing to me and the sand on the beach was uncomfortable.  We couldn't relax in the sun because we had two little children and there was much at the beach that could hurt them.  But when we left the kids with a sitter and took a boat out to fish it was an adventure I'll never forget!
     I'd never seen anything like the sea creatures that one can observe right off the coast of the Keys.  There were giant rays that swam close enough to our boat that we could reach down and stroke there big flapping wings.  There were huge sharks, sometimes fifteen feet long who swam around us, checking out our boat with their cold, glassy eyes.  There were Jewfish, or seacows as some called them.  They were bigger than our little motor boats with red and white leprous looking spots on their skin and mouths large enough to swallow our little vessel if they so desired.  Then there were long silver-skinned Barracudas... fierce looking creatures whose evil, toothy smiles extended up a third of their body length displaying sharp saw-like teeth that could tear a man's leg or arm to shreds.  Oh, and I'll never forget the jelly fish with their bright blue bubbles and long, stringy tentacles that could wrap around you and paralyze you with their sting. The had an iridescent glow as they pushed through the water. 
     I don't want to leave out the fish that were good to eat.  The day Tim was born, his dad caught a snapper that outweighed our new baby boy.  Timmy weighed 7lbs, 11oz and Ted's snapper weighed in at a little over 8lbs.  We referred to Tim as "the shrimp" for the first month of his life never dreaming he'd grow up to be our moose!  Then there was a grouper which is the only fish that I have ever eaten that I didn't feel had to be battered and deep fried to suit my taste.  It is delicious, broiled or grilled with a squeeze of lemon.
     When I was eight months pregnant with Timmy, Ted came home one day and said, "A friend has invited us to go out on his cabin cruiser to fish with him tomorrow.  Are you up to it if we can get a baby sitter?"
     Of course I was up to it!  The only thing that could have stopped me was labor pains and they weren't due quite yet.  So the next morning we left the kids with a neighbor and headed for the marina and a day of deep sea fishing.
     We fished most of the morning without much success but the day was sunny, the water beautiful and the breeze off the ocean kept us cool.  It was wonderful.  Right after lunch I settled down at the back of the boat with my line trolling in the water while our captain instructed Ted how to drive the cruiser.  I was almost asleep in the sun with a straw hat pulled down over my face when my pole jerked.  I came awake with a start.  It didn't take me long to realize that I had a big one on the other end.  The thing began jerking and pulling frantically on my line.  The reel was whirring and I was screaming.  The two men ran to my side, Ted said, "I'll take it from here," and reached for my pole.  He told me later that I looked at him with murder in my eyes and said, "Don't you touch my pole!  I can catch this fish!"  He stood back and the two of them began yelling instructions...  "Give him more line!  Pull it back!  Give him more line!  Play him!  Keep winding and pulling on the line!" I wrestled that fish for fifteen minutes or more as we watched him in the distance leaping from the water.  I held onto that pole with all my strength and watched the sun glinting on his silver skin as he broke through the surface of the water.  It was a beautiful sight and the fight in that valiant creature was something I'll never forget.  It felt like I had a German Shepherd on the other end of my line.
     I was growing tired but I didn't dare admit it because Ted was standing by my side watching me ever so closely, just waiting to take over my fish fight.  I would have collapsed before I'd let that happen.
     Ted was extremely protective and I could hear him asking, "Are you okay?  You're not hurting yourself are you?"  Every once in a while I'd look at him and say, "Shut up, Ted!  You're not going to catch my fish!"
     Even with all of the jumping, we weren't sure what I had on the line, until he got right up to the back of the boat.  Then we looked down at him and realized that I had hooked a Barracuda... a four foot long silver muscle... with teeth!
     The creature laid there exhausted, just below the surface.  He was a noble but defeated champion, waiting for his fate to be sealed.  It was kinda sad.  
     "How do I get him into the boat?"  I asked, examining that murderous looking row of teeth.  
     "You don't!" said Ted as he reached in front of me and cut my line with his pen knife.  I watched in amazement as my prize slithered into the inky deep water below our boat.
     "Why did you do that?!"  I screamed.
      "Because you're not bringing a Barracuda into this boat!"
     "But I wanted you to take my picture with him!"  I protested.  I felt close to tears, not only disappointed and exhausted, but now I couldn't record my victory for future generations, and there were other emotions I still can't explain.  I guess you might say that my "thrill of victory" was dissolving into the "agony of defeat".  I turned to our captain and asked, as calmly as I could, "How long would you say that fish was?"
     "Oh, about 4 feet I'd say."
     "...and about how long did I fight him?"  
     "Oh, about 15 to 20 minutes."  He replied.
     Then I turned to Ted and said, "Four feet long and a 15 to 20 minute fight, now I don't ever want to hear you claim that the fish and the battle grows in size every time I tell the story,   because if I can't have a picture, I should at least be able to brag about it without contradiction!"  
     "It's a deal."  He smiled and gave me a hug and he never once contradicted my story. He was a good man!  :)

(C)copyright2014ljgehrke


P.S.  Although the above picture is not a picture of "my prize" this one is a close facsimile.