First fish report -or- when you got hooked on spearing

look at young judah:D Ill be back here after work

Thats awesome. The first time spearfishing I thought it was done while walking around tide pools. I had my pole spear and needless to say I never caught anything. lol.

Awesome thread. I'll post up my first CA white sea bass when I get off work. That's when I really became hooked on CA diving. Before it was all about Baja..

About four years ago I was living near the beach in Deerfield relocating from up north after a one year stint in China. Being from up north I've always wanted to spearfish so I got my licence, regs, foam flag float, lawstick, mesh bag, borrowed fins, and whatever gun I could find cheap. I was clueless, but determined. Everynight after work, I'd go out solo, sans dive knife looking for fish in 2-4' waves with less than 5 foot viz for 2-3 hours until dark. I saw lots of baitfish, huge tarpon, and nurse sharks. On about the 3-4th day diving I connected with my first fish (a small cero) took it home, gutted it, grilled it, ate it, lost 10 lbs over the course of the next week, and got good enough that I sometimes I could bring home 2 macs for dinner

I was too young when I started. About 13 years old. I don't remember much, but my first big fish was a cuda. Abot 10 pounds. I looked huge!

Macdyver comes from the TV show. All my gear is held together with duct tape or zip ties and mostly is second hand, clearance, or found in the ocean.

I was pretty young and made me a ploespear by lashing surgical tubing to a broom handle and put a small 3 prong flounder gig head on it. Back in those days you could drive along the beach on the Gulf Coast and we had a 1965 International Scout 4 wd.
We found an old wreck not far off the beach by having someone ride on top of the jeep looking for a dark spot in the water riding slow along the beach. It was'nt much left, just a few ribs in about 12 ft. of water. No fins, only an old round dive mask and my makeshift polespear and cutoff jeans. I think I got 2 spade fish that day and saw a couple of small back snapper.

In 1979 I lived at Victoria Beach, a hippie named Richard always had a few of the local cuties gather when he came out of the surf with a nice fish.
The other big chick magnet was a dog named Bear,a huge red husky we had trained to pee on tourist's beach towels. I decided getting a dog was out of the question and set out building a pole spear out of some left over carbon fiber rod I had in my garage. I borrowed the green trident head from my childhood flounder sticker and I was ready to go.
The next day I walked down the long stairs past Ozzie Nelson's house armed
with my frog fins, mask, and new pole spear. At the base of the stairs I was refreshed by the spray of a large shore-brake as it curled down the sand.
On the beach, my friends were playing volleyball as I waited for a lull in the set and hustled through the white water.
Once outside the breakers I pulled my mask up from around my neck, sealed it and dropped into the crisp clear November water.Now the lack of wet suit, big surf and a long pointy thing got me thinking a dog may be not such a bad thing after all. Just then a small corbina finned into view, I dropped down and
saw the dark shape of a large uncovered halibut. In one motion I dove to
the bottom thrusting the frog gig hard into his head. Great billows of sand erupted as I pined his head and finally was able to get a death grip within the gills.Now the fish was convulsing bait fish as a started for shore.
As I looked at my friends on the beach I could see them standing up and pointing at me. Finally a little attention for the non-surfing Yankee Boy.
Wow.... where did all that water go...what is that loud hissing sound ?
As I glanced over my shoulder a sick feeling came to the pit of my stomach,
like when you run out in front of a car and say ...Oh Shite!
The huge wave sucked me in and over the curl, I didn't know where my mask
and polespear were but me and my flatty were heading for shore.
I also don't remember body slamming that tourist with the black knee socks and sandals, lying on that new $20.00 beach chair.
Then the great wave receded with it's bounty of coolers,boggie boards and tanned bodies.
Bear was licking my face when I opened my eyes, blood was dripping off my trashed hand and a 25# Halibut was in my lap.''That was Far Fuc-kin Out'' how long you been surfin flatties? asked a sleek blond bartender I knew from the White House Pub.
It was right then I knew California was my new home.
Beach's, barbecues, and blonds with a dog named Bear.

Cheers Don Paul

One my early freedive mentors lived on Manihi Atoll in the south pacific, his name is William Tetake. His dad Tetake Williams was a freediving legend. He rose to stardom in 1965 by diving off an aircraft carrier with out fins or mask, and bringing up a hand full of sand from the bottom at 65 meters.

Like his dad, William was a deep diver, he was the first spearfisherman to teach me advanced deep spearfishing.
In his outrigger he kept 3 to 5 kilo stones. We would paddle the canoe over
the ''secret spot',. cock the gun, pick a stone that matched the needed rate of decent, slip on the nose clip, breath up for 1 min, close our eyes and slide into the blue while equalizing.'' When you hit the reef, start making a croaking sound in your throat to attract big Ulua'', replied William.

On one such dive I watched William shoot a pan sized fish, slide it down the shooting line, re-cock the gun, croak some more, shoot another fish, before giving me the thumbs up and a big smile.

Later that day I asked him why we close our eyes on the drop to the reef ?
'' This way Raira (gray reef shark) less worries.''
Later William Tetake would introduce me to JJ or Jungle Juice, but I'll save
that story for later.

Cheers, Don Paul

I just realized, my freediving spearfishing roots can be traced back to a little website called freedivingspearfishing.com

http://spearfishing.world/brow…ania-beach-hollywood.html

those poor fillets, with their big jbl double flopper holes

Great stories,
.
MY first hunting stories were not in water. They were using English shorthair pointers and hunting bobwhite quail around the corn fields of SW Ohio.
I had only experienced the ocean once before I was 21 and that was a few days on the California coast in 1969 visiting relatives there.
I moved to Hawaii in 77 and never went back.
I got into spearfishing here in Belize after doing it a bit in the Philippines. I used to take my boat out looking for conch a lot. I'd see hogs and snappers and thought, "damn, I should get a speargun". I did and within a week of getting it, I'd pass right over the conch.
I really enjoy the hunt. I hardly shoot jacks or hogfish. The "passerbys" that I luck into. I really enjoy finding the right spots, dropping down and playing games with the snappers and black groupers. I feel better getting two nice muttons, dogs or cuberas than I do getting a cooler full of mackerels or jacks etc.
But yeah, I really started at about age 45 after a lot of water time surfing, body surfing and scuba diving. And every weekend, it's like being a kid at Christmas.
Jake summed it up as we were coming home yesterday. "Once a hunter, always a hunter".

Nice story Hank :thumbsup1:
I'm always impressed by your fish and the life you made down there.
Why do you pass on hogs.? theres a few reasons I have to not shoot hogs and sometimes I have a mental moment over it but at the end of the day they are my favorite fish to see, shoot, and eat...the jacks I can understand

Quote from sdeisen

Nice story Hank :thumbsup1:
I'm always impressed by your fish and the life you made down there.
Why do you pass on hogs.? theres a few reasons I have to not shoot hogs and sometimes I have a mental moment over it but at the end of the day they are my favorite fish to see, shoot, and eat...the jacks I can understand

We don't see many nice sized hogs here. I guess because they were one of the first to get cleaned out by the commercial guys spearing. I would shoot any that I see over 7 lbs or so but that's rare.
Maybe it goes back to my quail hunting days. If we didn't find quail, we didn't shoot anything. I'm looking for a few types of fish most of the time. It's the hunt, not the killing that I like.... I guess.
My boys are a bit into the "if it swims, it dies" mode right now. It's fine with me. Jake's more selective though. He's a bit disappointed if he doesn't get what he considers quality fish.

Quote from Don Paul

In 1979 I lived at Victoria Beach, a hippie named Richard always had a few of the local cuties gather when he came out of the surf with a nice fish.
The other big chick magnet was a dog named Bear,a huge red husky we had trained to pee on tourist's beach towels. I decided getting a dog was out of the question and set out building a pole spear out of some left over carbon fiber rod I had in my garage. I borrowed the green trident head from my childhood flounder sticker and I was ready to go.
The next day I walked down the long stairs past Ozzie Nelson's house armed
with my frog fins, mask, and new pole spear. At the base of the stairs I was refreshed by the spray of a large shore-brake as it curled down the sand.
On the beach, my friends were playing volleyball as I waited for a lull in the set and hustled through the white water.
Once outside the breakers I pulled my mask up from around my neck, sealed it and dropped into the crisp clear November water.Now the lack of wet suit, big surf and a long pointy thing got me thinking a dog may be not such a bad thing after all. Just then a small corbina finned into view, I dropped down and
saw the dark shape of a large uncovered halibut. In one motion I dove to
the bottom thrusting the frog gig hard into his head. Great billows of sand erupted as I pined his head and finally was able to get a death grip within the gills.Now the fish was convulsing bait fish as a started for shore.
As I looked at my friends on the beach I could see them standing up and pointing at me. Finally a little attention for the non-surfing Yankee Boy.
Wow.... where did all that water go...what is that loud hissing sound ?
As I glanced over my shoulder a sick feeling came to the pit of my stomach,
like when you run out in front of a car and say ...Oh Shite!
The huge wave sucked me in and over the curl, I didn't know where my mask
and polespear were but me and my flatty were heading for shore.
I also don't remember body slamming that tourist with the black knee socks and sandals, lying on that new $20.00 beach chair.
Then the great wave receded with it's bounty of coolers,boggie boards and tanned bodies.
Bear was licking my face when I opened my eyes, blood was dripping off my trashed hand and a 25# Halibut was in my lap.''That was Far Fuc-kin Out'' how long you been surfin flatties? asked a sleek blond bartender I knew from the White House Pub.
It was right then I knew California was my new home.
Beach's, barbecues, and blonds with a dog named Bear.

Cheers Don Paul

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Don, I remember you telling this story live at the legends event in San Diego. Which was so much fun to be at. The fact that you walked in the ocean and got a 25# halibut on you first try is testament to your abilities. I think you included some more colorful details here. Especially the dog, that's really funny stuff. I cannot imagine how much fun you must have had living down there. Thanks for sharing.

Quote from hank

I'm looking for a few types of fish most of the time. It's the hunt, not the killing that I like.... I guess.
My boys are a bit into the "if it swims, it dies" mode right now. It's fine with me. Jake's more selective though. He's a bit disappointed if he doesn't get what he considers quality fish.

Right there with you. Quality > volume. One quality fish will make my day.