Pflueger Atlapac 4/0

[Makule]

The Edward vom Hofe reminded me of the Atlapac, so I thought I'd post an image of one.  Not nicely clean and shiny, being stored in the bag and case for many years in humid Hawaii (looks like some fungus developing).  I bought it thinking that I would actually use it, but didn't because it was too small for me at the time.  Now, I don't have a real use for it so it's my one and only "collector's item".

[Bryan Young]

Now that's a beauty Albert.  Most of my friends fished the 6/0s, and some still do for old time sake.

[redsetta]

Great reel Albert - and in such great condition.
Love the bag and box too.
Cheers for sharing, Justin
PS The TLD10 has been doing the business lately - caught a load of great fish in recent weeks. Thanks again.

[Alto Mare]

Beautiful reel Albert. Thanks for showing it to us.

[Makule]

The reel cost $250 when it was purchased and gifted to me many years ago by a former GF.  She was good to me, but we parted company so the reel has no special meaning and may be gifted to a young grasshopper who has been very kind to me.

[Bryan Young]

Sweet.  If you ever want to part with it, I'd be interested.  My uncles used to fish with those reels, but my cousins, in memory of his love for fishing, sank his gear when their ashes were spreaded in the Pacific Ocean...even though my Uncle promised them to me (but my cousins didn't know 'cause they didn't go fishing with their own father.  I loved it though.

Hey Albert, found some of your articles in Hawaii Fishing News.  Did you get that marlin from the cliffs at South Point as well?

[Makule]

Sweet.  If you ever want to part with it, I'd be interested.  My uncles used to fish with those reels, but my cousins, in memory of his love for fishing, sank his gear when their ashes were spreaded in the Pacific Ocean...even though my Uncle promised them to me (but my cousins didn't know 'cause they didn't go fishing with their own father.  I loved it though.

Hey Albert, found some of your articles in Hawaii Fishing News.  Did you get that marlin from the cliffs at South Point as well?

It's understandable how some people want to keep their beloved with their items.  For me, all worldly things mean nothing after I'm gone so it's better that they go to someone who can use them.  They are simply tools, in my eyes, which is not to say that there's anything wrong with people seeing things differently.

My wife caught that sailfish off South Point.  Used a 14/0 reel and cranked it in all by herself since I was trying to untangle some lines in the meantime.  Out neighbor came by to help gaff the fish.  Was a great fish and great fight.

[Bryan Young]

I wish I could post the HFN articles here so that your fan and reader base can expand world wide.

[redsetta]

That's quite a coincidence Albert - I do the reels for Paul's Fishing Kites and never realised those stories/photos were yours.
It's such a small world.
Great work - congrats to your wife.
All the best, Justin

[Makule]

That's quite a coincidence Albert - I do the reels for Paul's Fishing Kites and never realised those stories/photos were yours.
It's such a small world.
Great work - congrats to your wife.
All the best, Justin

Thank you.

Here's the article.

During the last episode, our heroine, DB, landed a nice mahimahi at South Point.  She subsequently snagged a 160-pound hubby.  Under my most expert guidance, she has moved on to bigger, and perhaps better, fish.    While it may be obvious to most, for the benefit of those who may not be familiar, I am the greatest.  Having said that, the epic saga of man against woman ---- I mean man against the sea, continues.

Having been much too long away from the ocean and our favorite outdoor sport, DB and I headed to our usual holoholo spot during the Memorial Day weekend.  Too much work, too much stress, not enough down time, not enough rest, and we were ready for some sun, fun, and fish.  As usual, we stopped by Shirakawa Motel in Waiohinu to pick up some of Takumi's proprietary palu and ice on the way.  This guy, Takumi, is one clever inventor and it's always a pleasure talking with him about his latest projects (but that's a different story).

We head down to the coast and survey the area for a suitable spot.  I want to try a different place, but DB says, "No, too dusty".  Well, that can be appreciated since South Point dust flying around every time a step is taken means more to clean back home after the trip.  Next spot is our usual high cliff area because the other spots are already occupied.  Serves us right for leaving so late.  Already it's about 4:00 PM and I'm concerned about the weather report saying it might rain a bit.  Rain, South Point wind, and South Point dust makes for a not-so-good combination.  Still, I maintain my priorities and send out one line before setting up the shelter, after all, what did we drive all the way to Ka Lae for?  One line out, shelter and "comfort station" put up, and we're all set.

Hungry.  Must be time for lunch.  Lunch at 4:30 PM?  That's the way it is with fanatics, I guess.  Eating comes after everything is set up. 

Within a short while, the alarm goes off and we have a fish on, or is it?  DB is cranking but it seems like there's nothing.  Then it's tugging, then it's not, and then it's pulling again.  Gee, this thing is really small, whatever it is.  Maybe uku or kamanu, either one is fine with me.  Ahhh, there's the blue and yellow streak in the water so it's a kamanu.  Small, but it's sashimi.

With high expectations, the line is sent out again, brought in, bait checked, sent out again, and the process repeated several times but to no avail.  At about midnight the lines are pulled in and it's time for sleep.  Experience has taught us that leaving the lines out while asleep is not such a good idea.  "Things" can happen.

Sunday morning, my eagle eyes show me that the guys who were camped at the lighthouse are no longer there so we hustle to take down our camp and move.  Takes a full hour to make the move and I'm starting to think that Takumi might be right in suggesting that we don't need all of our "stuff". 

The two lines are sent out again and expectations are again running high.  Haven't fished at this spot in a long time since someone usually beats us to it.  The drill continues:  Bring the lines in; Check bait; Send back out.  Repeat.  Repeat.  Repeat.  All day long, zilch on the strikes.  Hmmmm, maybe it wasn't such a good idea to have moved.  Then, auwe, no mo bait left.  Too many little freeloaders taking my delicious opelu, so it's time to catch live bait (at least give it a better try). 

Perhaps it's too calm.  The fish aren't interested and in frustration the first thing that comes up, a small stickfish, is sent out.  Hey, better something in the water than a bare hook on dry land.  The most secret of incantations is recited over the bait before it's tossed in, followed by a beckoning to all great and hungry fish to heed our call.  If it sounds like there was a bit of desperation setting in, you may not be far from the truth.

Back to catching bait, in the hopes that something better might be had.  Ten minutes of more frustration and I give up.  Turning my attention to the floater holding the stickfish bait, hoping to see it magically disappear and hear the reel screaming, I see it gently bobbing instead, signaling a less than exciting wait.  Within a minute however, "Holy fishsticks, Batman", the ocean explodes as a black torpedo comes leaping, shaking, and splashing, next to the floater.  My mind goes ballistic (like the fish) and adrenaline flows like the Wailuku River during a rainstorm.  "Debbie, look, look, a marlin.  Look, out there, it's jumping.  Look, look".  Instinctively, my feet are heading towards the rod.  The rest of my body goes along.  Someone has hooked a marlin, and it's us!!!!  More adrenaline juice.  It's still jumping.  Awwww, crap.  It's not us.  No, the floater is not moving, the rod is not bent over, and the alarm has not gone off.  The emotional height above the summit of Mauna Kea instantly becomes a terrible crash landing into the tortuous Kau Desert.  The ultimate irony of extreme excitement simultaneously coupled with extreme disappointment grabbed my reeling (pun intended) mind and drives me to the very edge of sanity (which some have argued I've already crossed).  My feet now feel like the anchor of the Titanic.  I was all dressed up with no place to go.  My big sale didn't go through.  The greatest - well, you get the point.  It was like some cruel god was toying with my brain.

In the next second that my emotional self was being dragged over the Aa lava,   "Beeeeep!  Beeeep!  Beeeep!" The alarm!!!  The fish was on and the rod was bent and the line screaming out.  Hallelujah!  Praise God!  The fish is on!!!

Ahem.  Regaining my composure, I turned off and removed the alarm, and watched the fish and the amount of bend in the rod.  DB had now arrived and she sat down behind the rod to "take control of the situation".  Again, my expert guidance kicked in.  "Don't force the fish in.  If it pulls, let it go.  When it eases up, crank it in.  Watch the rod tip and crank when it starts coming up.  Don't bring it in too fast.  We don't want the fish jumping around or diving when it comes in to gaff.  Gotta knock it out outside where it's deep."  DB, with her usual grunts and groans and moans, cranks, and cranks, and cranks some more.  "Don't take the rod out of the holder.  It's too strong and the drag is too tight", I caution.  A vision of her screaming, while she as being dragged by the fish, crosses my mind.  I look at the safety rope to make sure she hasn't removed it.  Good girl.  On her part, DB is saying, "It's too tight, I can't crank, and it's too heavy".  I encourage her, "I guess you gotta do more exercises when you go home".

Rats, the fish starts heading towards the other line.  I leave DB's side to deal with the other rod, which is about 50 feet away.  Too late, it's tangled so I can only take up the slack as DB tries to bring her line in.  I'm waiting, I'm waiting, and I'm waiting as fast as I can.  It feels like an eternity, waiting for the lines to come in so I can untangled them.  Finally, the snag comes in (it was only caught on the other floater) and it's freed.  Great, now what's that fish doing?  Not jumping anymore and not diving.  So far, so good.  Back to DB and she's still groaning, "This is sooooo heavy".  Again, I boost her morale with, "You'll need to exercise when you get home".

In the meantime, our fishing neighbor, Randy Cockett, has come over and has been helping out.  Randy is a very experienced angler who often fishes at this very spot, and has witnessed at least two other sailfish come up.  He knows exactly what to do in my absence and has taken the gaff in anticipation of that magic moment.  Now, leader in hand, he brings it in closer when I finally get to clearly see what it is.  Dang, if my adrenaline doesn't spike yet again.  Randy releases the leader, picks up the gaff, and cold sweat beads off my forehead. The sailfish is within gaffing distance; no one is controlling it, and swimming too close to a rock for comfort.  My stomach has tied itself into so many knots that I could apply for a title in Guinness World Records.  Randy has the gaff now in hand, he positions himself, and with one swift hit to the head, BINGO!  That Randy sure is a cool-headed guy.  He acted as if everything was rehearsed and he'd done this a thousand times.  It's all over except to pull up this great catch and haul it to the proud lady angler who is waiting above (like a goddess watching her minions approach her with our offering).  She, like Randy, is acting so cool and calm.  She has absolutely no idea what's she's just accomplished and probably thinks she can do this every other Sunday.  Who is to say, perhaps she can.

Yes, this is yet another installment which goes to show why I am the greatest.  DB seems to now be following in my footsteps.  Methinks I better start walking faster....

[redsetta]

Great story Albert - you've got a gift for storytelling.
Cheers mate, Justin