By Captain Michael Evensen
The wake-up call on August 12, 2007, came a little earlier than usual. I had the whole day planned out: tuna fishing at first light to catch the morning bite, followed by some haddock, cod and shark fishing in the afternoon. Although I’ve been fishing the waters of Cape Cod Bay since I was 6 years old and have caught hundreds of tuna, cod and haddock, this would be my very first try at shark fishing aboard my boat, the Alexa Ann.
I was up at 3 a.m., and the rest of the crew – John Behm, Paul Marobella, Bobby Hansford and Steve Connolly – were already on their way to my house. I brewed some coffee, and after stocking up with bait, ice and lunch, we headed down to the marina. The Alexa Ann was ready to roll.
We stowed our supplies and readied our tuna gear, then left Scituate Harbor heading east at 28 knots towards the southwest corner of Stellwagen Bank. The water was flat calm, and the occasional shooting star flashed across the sky as we cruised toward the fishing grounds, 18 miles east of Scituate. When we arrived at our destination, we set out our spreader bars and daisy chains and headed north of the southwest corner. It was a beautiful sunrise, with low winds, plenty of bait, and whales and birds feeding with abandon. Our spreader bars suffered a few hits, but we didn’t have any hookups.
We remained persistent and moved south, away from the wolf pack. Around 8 a.m., we were marking tuna about a half-mile away from all of the other boats, when the Penn 130 suddenly screamed – a giant had taken the bar closest to the transom. After a few blistering runs and nearly an hour spent fighting the fish, the 7- to 8-foot-long giant bluefin tuna surfaced about 60 feet away from the boat. Thinking we had it beat, we readied the harpoon and gaffs, but it wasn’t meant to be. A few sharp kicks of the tail, and the fish was gone, snapping the 130-pound-test line just a few feet in front of the squid bar.
After a few choice words and a moment of silence, we revised our course to six miles east of Stellwagen, aware that the odds of hooking up with another large tuna were slim.
When we were 12 miles east of our tuna location and 30 miles from home, we set up a drift over our cod and haddock spot, then prepared for shark fishing. We put out a shark chum bucket, started a slow drip of menhaden oil, and began tossing over a steady stream of diced mackerel. John, Bobby and Steve jigged for cod and haddock while I set up a shark rod. I rigged a size 10/0 hook to 8 feet of single-strand wire and connected it to 8 feet of braided cable and 600 yards of 80-pound-test monofilament on a Penn 50 wide. Using a balloon, I set a bluefish filet about 60 feet behind the boat and about 40 feet deep.
Roughly 20 minutes later, after picking up a few cod and a couple of haddock, John was lifting a hook-up of dogfish at the aft corner of the boat. Suddenly, a massive shark came up just under the surface and rolled next to the boat in an attempt to swipe the dogfish off the line. The way the shark came up and rolled, it looked just like a great white! We were still buzzing about the huge shark a minute later, when something took the bluefish filet on the shark rod. John grabbed the rod, and we fit him into the harness and gimble. He let the shark run with the bait for about a minute, set the drag to strike, then drove the hook home and yelled, “Game on!”
The fish made an initial first run straight to the bottom, then directly away from the boat. For the first hour of the fight, the shark took more line than John could retrieve, even though John was fighting him hard. In sweltering heat with no breeze or shade, the shark’s strong, persistent, methodical fight got the best of John, so we switched places. I took over the fight, and he took over the helm. I’d never felt anything before that compared to strength of this shark; the rod was doubled over for the entire hour that I was in the harness. Though the shark lacked the speed of a tuna, its sheer strength and persistence more than compensated for it and wore me down. By the time Bobby took over, I had gained only slightly on the fish. About 2 ½ hours into the fight, the fish finally surfaced, and we could see that it was indeed the same shark that had rolled on the dogfish. The beast was a huge porbeagle, not a great white.
Throughout the fight, I kept going over all my knots and crimps in my mind, hoping nothing would fail. Paul and Steve continued the fight as the shark slowly tired, and we gained more and more line. Three hours and forty minutes after the initial hook-up, Bobby had the leader in hand and was able to guide the fish closer to the boat. I drove the harpoon home just in front of the dorsal, and Paul lifted the tail slightly so I could loop it with a tail rope and secure it to the aft cleat. Finally, we had secured to the boat what we estimated to be 6 ½ feet and 350 pounds of porbeagle shark.
After dragging our catch back toward home for about 20 minutes, we tried to get the porbeagle into the boat by hoisting its tail up through the hardtop and lifting its head with a head rope and two gaffs, but we couldn’t get the leverage we needed. After many unsuccessful attempts, we abandoned the idea and tied the shark amidships. This allowed us to travel at only 8 to 10 knots and tripled our normal fuel consumption
The porbeagle measured 90 inches, tip to fork,
and had a massive, 70-inch girth.
About halfway home, with no cell phone service, our radio finally put us in touch with Greg Sears, a friend and local charter captain. I told Greg that we were on our way home with a pretty big shark, which I estimated to be 6 feet and 300 pounds. (I always estimate a little on the lower end of what I actually think to save myself potential embarrassment at the scale.) Fortunately, Greg knew the right people to call, and they were all available. He called back to let us know that John Chisholm from the Division of Marine Fisheries and local shark specialist Tom King would both be waiting to meet us at the docks. Finding a scale large enough to weigh the shark was proving to be a problem, however. Greg followed up a few more times on our slow return to confirm our ETA and to let us know a crowd was gathering to see our catch.
With an eye on our dangerously low gas gauge, it was a relief to finally enter Scituate Harbor. I told the guys to ready the oars, as we were coming back on fumes. Heading through the harbor and passing by the restaurants on the waterfront, we turned quite a few heads before we pulled into a slip located on the street front. There we were greeted by Greg Sears, Tom King, John Chisholm, Captain Stan Glaskin, Captain Jay Berggren, friends, family and at least 100 onlookers.
Dragging the shark up onto the dock tail-first really gave us our first look at the entire fish. Seeing it out of the water and hearing John Chisholm’s reaction – he said it was the fattest (widest) porbeagle he had ever seen – made us think we really might have something special. But the most rewarding reaction was the look on my kids’ faces; they couldn’t believe the size of the shark we brought home.
The largest scale we could find in Scituate was Pete Belsan’s of Belsan Bait & Tackle, but it had only a 250-pound measuring capacity. We thought about cutting the fish in half and weighing them in separately, but John Chisholm said that it would not be an official weight. Tom King also told us that the fish’s official weight was needed because it was a large porbeagle, so he made a call to Steve James of the Oak Bluffs Monster Shark Tournament, who let us borrow his 2000-pound scale. While Tom and I drove over to Marshfield to pick up the scale, Greg Sears got in touch with a friend of his, who brought a front-end loader down to the waterfront. Tom and I arrived back at the waterfront with scale in hand, backhoe ready to hoist, and well over 100 people to witness the spectacle. The initial lift came up at 455 pounds, and we couldn’t believe it! The shark was lowered down and John requested a second lift. The second measurement was the same, 455 pounds, and John told the crowd that we had a new state record! The porbeagle measured 90 inches, tip to fork, and had a massive, 70-inch girth.
After the official weight was recorded, the shark was lowered and Joe McCabe and Stan Glaskin went to work, cutting a couple hundred pounds of tasty shark steaks for us and for everyone who helped out. John Chisholm took samples and internal organs back to the state’s lab, and we held onto the jaws, planning to have them mounted. Belsan Bait will have it on display during the season, and it will spend the off-season at home with me so my kids can scare their friends.
I still can’t believe we set a state record. In over 30 years of fishing, my friends and I have caught thousands of striped bass and bluefish, hundreds of tuna, cod and haddock, but no records. To fish for less than 20 minutes on our first shark-fishing adventure and boat the largest recorded porbeagle caught in Massachusetts waters is something special. I know how difficult it is and how much effort people put into fishing for a record catch, and to do so on our first try was incredibly rewarding for all of us on board. I’m grateful to have some good friends in the business, especially Tom King, who taught me everything I needed to know to start shark fishing.
For that one day, John Behm, Paul Marobella, Bobby Hansford, Steve Connolly and I were at the top of our game, and we left the boat feeling on top of the world. It’s a day we’ll never forget, and I thank each and every one of the guys on board for doing their part. Without the effort of all, I know we wouldn’t have succeeded.
Looking to break a record in your home state?
Check out the links below for the official New England state records.
Massachusetts State Saltwater Records
Connecticut State Saltwater Records
Rhode Island State Saltwater Records
New Hampshire State Saltwater Records
Maine State Saltwater Records |
