Fish(es) of the Year
Normally, the Fish of the Year is the ending paragraph on the family Christmas letter. This being the first year of The Happy Anachronism, it seems appropriate to post it here.
Past winners were some pretty remarkable animals and not necessarily fish. One was a very large warmouth. One year it was a hefty Yellowstone cuthroat trout. Once it was a good sized smallmouth my son caught on the Little Vermilion. Another time it was the bear we saw walking through the door of a public restroom at Yosemite National Park (potty trained bears...who'd a thunk).
This year there are several compelling entries:
1. Takauki's big smallmouth bass.

Taka was an exchange student who stayed with us during the spring. He was an enthusiastic angler and it was a pleasure to show him around. This particular fish has a complicated story attached to it, but still represents all the good times we had fishing during his visit.
For sheer goodwill and all around enjoyment, Taka's big smallmouth bass is this year's fish of the year.
2. Massive southern stingray (5' total length) caught on 10 pound line.
We catch these sometimes when I fish with George on Placencia Lagoon. My first experience came one night after I had called it quits. George wanted to fish a bit more. He was bottom fishing with a handline using a frozen shrimp on a single hook.
I was upstairs cooking supper when I heard him calling for me. Loudly.
I scrambled downstairs and arrived to find something literaly tearing line through his grip. The spool of his handline was almost gone. I grabbed on and through both our efforts we managed to stop the run. Briefly. When it took off again it ripped line through all four of our hands.
Standing in the dark on the bank of a place like Placencia Lagoon attached to an animal completely out of your control despite your best efforts to stop him tends to inspire the imagination. It also calls into question just exactly who is catching whom. Sharks. Crocodiles. Goliath Grouper. Had we snagged one of those? We'd never find out for sure. During a hard run I clamped down to try to force the issue. The 30 pound monofilament popped like a thread.
George was pretty sure that fish was a stingray. I tend to agree. It took hard runs and then just stopped. We could pull it gradually toward us during those pauses, but it seemed strangely heavy as if it were resting on the bottom.
Two days later, another big fish struck my line and fought exactly the same way. This time, however, I was using an old Ugly Stick and 10 pound monfilament. Much of the fight consisted of watching him strip line off my reel. At one point, I was struggling to keep from losing the last 20 feet of line.
Pull the rod tip high, then reel slack furiously as it descends. Repeat.
I'd take some line. He'd take it back. Then he'd sit on the bottom. I'd pull him toward me with gradually increasing force until I'd feel a "give" on his end. It was almost as if a suction was breaking between his body and the bottom. It took a while, but I finally landed this stingray.
Then began a whole new bout of problems. This was a big angry animal. His head was pointed into the water and his tail was pointed at me, lashing the water with no minor amount of malice. With Steve Irwin's fate firmly in my mind, I contemplated my options.
1. Pop the line and let him figure out how to ditch the hook.
2. Drag him onshore and see if George wanted to eat him.
3. Remove the hook and release him.
Local people core the wings of stingrays for a faux "scallop" (actually tastes quite good) but George wasn't home and no one was handy to take this brute. I also especially dislike releasing fish with hooks in them (unless they've been swallowed). I settled on #3.
Now how to deal with that tail and barb lashing visciously back and forth? Hmm. Can't turn him. Can't flip him without getting close. Hey. There's a cinderblock. Let's drop the cinderblock on the tail to immobilize it so I can reach under and unhook him. Brilliant.
Three times I managed to place the cinderblock on his tail and three times the stingray sent that cinderblock flying. Ok. Not so brilliant. Nothing else was in reach. The animal was stressing. With regrets I popped the line and he slowly swam away. Over time the hook will come out on its' own. I was not pleased to leave it there, but I also didn't feel like fencing with that barb.
The leader on the line I was casting was about 3 feet long and it was approximately the same size as that stingray's body. Add the length of tail and this was a big, big fish. Five feet plus. He was by far my biggest fish of the year and the best fight I've had on hook and line since the four foot barracuda in 2006.
Truly, this was a worthy runner-up.
3. Sleigh-ride carp.
There's a film of this little debacle in this post.
http://brooksmith.blogspot.com/2008/07/common-carp-thug-on-loose.html#links
If you've ever been towed 100 yards downstream in a kayak through overhanging brush by an 8 pound muck sucker, you probably understand why this one made the list.
I vote that we have no repeat nominees along similar lines.
4. 500 pound West Indian manatee caught with Wildlife Trust on Placencia Lagoon.

Ok, yes, it's not a fish and technically I didn't catch it. Still, helping the Wildlife Trust capture and tag manatees was probably the field work highlight of the year if not the decade. I've spent a lot of time looking at the snouts of these animals and it was interesting to get a look at the whole thing...
...and of course, this also gives me another opportunity to talk about Placencia Lagoon, where I'll be spending quite a lot of time next year.
Thanks to all of you who are following the blog. It has indeed been a fun and interesting 2008.


