The Mystery Marlin

The Mystery Marlin

On Saturday, June 1, I joined On The Water contributing writer Larry Backman aboard the Skipjack for his first trip of the year to the Canyons. A warm slug of tropical water has pushed it’s way in West Atlantis Canyon, and we hoped to be able to intercept the season’s first bluefin tuna. The bluefin were indeed there, as well as host of other pelagic surprises.

Our first fish of the morning was a decent mahi, which took us by surprise. So we circled back, and picked up 3 more.
 

 
Our next surprise would be a pair of small yellowfin tuna.

Not long after, we had what appeared to be a white marlin slashing through the spread. It whacked a few baits, charged back and forth, and then went about it’s way.

Before the trip, crew member Chuck Martinsen had rigged up some “experimental” rigs, one of which was a rigged eel dressed up with a Joe Shute skirt. Marlin love eels, so we decided to give it a try on the long rigger.

About an hour later, we had a hit on a spreader bar but the hook didn’t set. Shortly after, the long rigger with the Chuck-E-eel rig got crushed, and the drag started to scream.

Initially, we thought it was a mid-sized tuna, perhaps one of the 50-inch bluefin other boats reported catching. The fish made one strong run, stopped, and then slowly swam right up to the back of the boat.

What I saw next blew my mind. There was 6-foot fish, all lit up, electric blue, shimmering in the prop wash.

“BIG mahi!”
“No, wahoo!”
“Marlin! Marlin! Marlin!”

And that’s when it flipped out. The fish went airborne. It was skyrocketing. At one point it went up right next to the boat, slamming it’s bill on the gunwale, sending me cowering to the other side of the cockpit, like a little schoolgirl.

Not long after, it spit the hook and regained it’s freedom.

During the course of the mayhem, we all assumed it was a white marlin. I had taken several photos of it, and when I went back to review them, we noticed something odd. The dorsal fin wasn’t rounded, and was noticeably different than a white’s. Larry thought perhaps it was a hatchet marlin, a fish I never even knew existed. Whatever it was, it was exiting, a memory I will never forget. I’m always amazed when I see something new in the canyons. The colors on that fish were remarkable.

This morning I finally had a chance to download the photos and pass them around. Chuck sent them to Dr. Greg Skomal, who forwarded them to John Graves, a professor of marine science at Virginia Institute of Marine Science.

Here is his response:

Nice fish! It is either a white marlin or a roundscale spearfish. I appreciate that the fish wasn’t removed from the water for a photo, as that really increases the chance of post-release mortality of billfish. Unfortunately, some of the better characters to distinguish the two species are tough to observe from topside shots (location of the vent relative to the start of the anal fin, relative length of the branchiostegals [rays underneath the mouth], and the pattern of scales). However, there are some clues. White marlin have spots on the dorsal fin, roundscale spearfish do not. From the photos, it would appear that there are no spots, so my guess is a roundscale spearfish. Also, my experience is that roundscale spearfish “light up” more than white marlin, and the fish in the photo is really lit up. Also, while you cannot see it, the bars on the sides of a roundscale spearfish tend to form an upside down “Y”, while those of a white marlin tend to be regular bars. – John Graves

Roundscale Spearfish

Very little is known about these fish. It wasn’t until 2006 that the scientific community confirmed through genetic research that roundscale spearfish are a different species than white marlin.

One study showed that 27 percent of the reported white marlin caught were actually roundscale spearfish. Samples recently taken at the White Marlin Open tournament found that 31 percent of white marlin landed were actually roundscale spearfish.