“The End Zone”

-Hunting at the Edge of Visability-

By Dan Silveira

                     

            The mutation of a spearos life evolves from curious nature and primal instinct.  It all starts by shooting small reef fish with a pole spear but is soon overtaken by the addiction of bagging larger and more difficult fish. Over time each element of the dive becomes more refined and the hunter can see more than before. At once, everything floods the speros’ mind and disables their cognizant vision.  The stress that has wounded the divers craving for catching fish has been rejected by a series of events that overweigh his ability to respond normally. The cold water rushing into the suit, the snorkel taking his breath away due to the puddle of gurgling water left in the tube, the duck like fins on his feet, and the chop of the waves smacking into his face reminding him that he is purely on the edge! At this point, the spero cannot see any of the fish around him because supporting the basic necessities of human survival such as air, warmth, and adrenalin distracts his mind.

            Over time this haze of mental distractions fades as the body adapts to the aquatic world and the eyes of the spero begin to see the distant silhouettes of fish. This takes time, patience, and a good breath hold, but soon the diver begins to realize that the elusive fish can be lured in to range. Rather than thinking about how they are diving, their movements become honed and smooth like the water they are in. They glide with the current, sway with the swells, kick with ease and grace, slow the heart, and make non threatening, slightly appealing movements to the fish. All said and done these refined skills peek the curiosity of the fish that makes a fatal pass by the newly skilled hunter.

            Empty waters, lacking game fish, can be a disappointment to many. For me I am provoked with the possibly of having much larger fish appear at the edge of visibility – This is what I call “The End Zone”. This style of hunting, constantly straining to see what lurks beyond clarity, is what keeps me hunting for California white seabass and their distant counterpart wahoo. While these fish are very different by species and location, they share similar habits. Hunting white Seabass in the murky kelp matted ocean forests of California is just like hunting for wahoo, but without the kelp or murky waters. At times both of these fish can be curious and appear below the diver, like magic, without any notice or previous sightings. Other times, not so much. A diver may catch a glimpse far, far away and it is like art trying to lure them in for a shot.

My Experience hunting wahoo:

            Ghostly in name she drifts in and out of vision leaving one to wonder if they are dreaming. Built for speed she attacks bait fiercely, approaching speeds of 60 miles per hour, leaving a glittery path of scales, I fallow in pursuit. The juvenile fish school but the large ones become solitary. As this species grows in size they become exponentially harder for spearfisherman to harvest. Her kind flourishes in good numbers. Her tasty name is WAHOO!!!

            I love to hunt for wahoo because they can be a challenge to hunt, but they frequent moderate depths from the surface down to 50 feet. The flesh of the wahoo is smooth and buttery, mild to the pallet. The aftertaste is fresh and not fishy – a wonderful combination for sashimi.

            I had been drifting in the blue for a few hours with not much in site. I speared a few jacks to use for chum and moved to another location. This time the high spot rose from 180 feet gradually to 60 feet over a distance of 600 yards. This was perfect for a long drift and a potent chum line for wahoo. Chunk, chunk, chunk, I scraped pieces of flesh off the jack I had speared earlier. As I watched the white pieces of flesh sink, I threw a flasher to simulate frantic baitfish. Soon pieces of chum were disappearing at the edge of visibility. Questions started popping into my mind – where the chunks of chum simply sinking into oblivion, or were they being eaten by a predator (Shark or Wahoo)? Setting my nerves aside, I swam down with my speargun positioned for attack. My senses were heightened and my movements were precise. Approaching my target depth I leveled out, rotating my head like an owl side to side in each direction. It took a while for my eyes to adjust when suddenly a massive wahoo swam boldly towards my flasher. I lined up the shot and stopped! Often, in clear water, objects appear closer and larger then they actually are. I took four more kicks and when I felt like I was going to touch the fish, I fired the gun. I was astonished to see that the shaft traveled 18-20 feet from the tip of the gun before hitting the wahoo. The shaft penetrated all the way though the fish, slightly grazing the spine, sending it into an uncontrollable quiver. I thought that the fish was about 50 pounds when I first pulled the trigger but as I pulled it in closer to me, I realized that this fish was immense! The fish ended up weighing approximately 90 pounds. The day continued with excitement as me and my friends continued to bag several wahoo. Some were close and easy to spear, but most kept us shooting for “The End Zone”.

My experience hunting white seabass:

            From kelp stock to kelp stock I look into channels and kelp rooms. The light percolates though the thick layer of seaweed above me. Both the fish and I are on hyper alert while moving though the shadows. The “S” like swagger of this fish is unique. Body elongated for speed and tale like a broom for powerful bursts and sharp turns.  This creature blends into the water column like an illusion and is often hard to approach. They travel in schools up to forty pounds but after that they are mostly large females who prefer the solo journey. This prized fish is known as the California white seabass.

            My friends Nicole, Matt, and Max embarked from the California coast 30 miles off shore to Catalina Island, Anacapa Island, and Santa Cruz Islands. I shot 5 white seabass, 1 yellowtail, barracuda, halibut and many big calicos during this journey but one catch has imprinted a story in my mind for years to come.   

            On the last day of the trip I woke up feeling good about the dive. My breath holds had been improving during the 3 days and were averaging 2 minutes with air to spare. I slipped into the kelp bead and started working north towards the upper end of the kelp. Within minutes, I had a harbor seal fallowing me on every dive. The darn seal was spooking all the fish and about 30 minutes of not seeing anything due to the pesky seal, I decided to make one last dive and give up. I dropped down to 17 feet where I was neutral, looked to my right and there was the seal again swimming off! I proceeded to look downward and to my left when I saw a large shape approaching. At first I thought it must have been the seal, but within a fraction of a second, I realized that it was the biggest white seabass I had ever seen. My gun however was still positioned to the right, so I retracted the gun and turned toward the fish. By this point the white seabass was starting to quarter away from me, so I extended my gun and took an 18 foot shot. I hit the fish in the back third. I grabbed onto my 75 ft float line and went for the ride. I had only been down about 20 or 30 seconds when I shot the fish, so I had about 1 minute left in my breath hold. As I held onto my float line, I was towed at about 10 miles per hour out to the edge of the kelp, but suddenly the fish turned and swam over 100 feet towards the upper inside of the kelp. I continued to hold on as I was dogging many dense kelp strands. Finally at about 1:25 I decided to come up for air. When I surfaced, I took a quick breath and the fish took me back under. By this point I was in the thickest part of the kelp and it was becoming a bit nerve racking to be pulled back down. Wuapppp, I took a breath and down I went for another 15 seconds. Again, I came back up and took a breath, but this time I was stuck in the kelp. The fish continued to pull but I could not release my self from the seaweed to go back down. I let some line rush though my hands as I quickly pulled the kelp away from me. I took my final deep breath and the fish pulled me under again for about 10 seconds and came up though the kelp for the last time. The fish had pulled me over 150 feet under water and I was burned out and tired from the battle, but so was the fish. It continued to throb the line and pull; at this point it had wrapped itself in the kelp about 50 feet away from me. I slithered over the three foot dense layer of seaweed towards the outer edge, constantly threading my arms to keep from entanglement. About five minutes after I had shot the fish, I had finally put my hands on it and sent my knife into it skull. I had shot this fish at the far reach of my 130cm gun. The sporasub slip tip that I was using never penetrated though the entire fish, but did an exceptional job toggling inside the fish on the apposing side of the spine. I was lucky to have landed this fish considering the limited 20 foot visibility, size of the fish and layers of kelp. Without a doubt, this fish was at “The End Zone”

            As I was swimming back to the boat with the fish, I knew if was big, but never expected it to be the 8th largest in the world! When I got to the dock, I weighed the white seabass on a certified scale and it was 76 pounds!!! 

A fish of a lifetime!!!

Dan Silveira

Talented divers across the U.S.A. are brought together in different ways, but competitive spearfishing brings a different dimension to the sport. Competition pushes these divers to constantly improve and refine their skills at an accelerated rate. Thousands of divers dedicate countless hours of scouting, training, and tournament diving to secure a spot in the U.S.A. National competition with hopes of placing high and making it to the Worlds competition. The scores of every National competitor are compiled every two years to determine who will make it to the Worlds team. There will be three divers and an alternate. The Worlds competition is the highest level of organized spearfishing in the sport. 

            For the 2010 Worlds, four fortunate young divers were selected to represent our Nation. Justin Allen, Dan Silveira, Sean Morschi, and John Modica. Together, they are one of the youngest teams to ever achieve this undertaking.

The team met for the first time in Rhode Island, in the 2008 U.S. Nationals where Justin Allen took 1^st place, Dan Silveira took 2^nd place and John and Sean were on the winning team. They met again in the 2009 Nationals, in Malibu (California), where tensions were high. In order for them to make it to the Worlds team, they needed to have high scores again. Fortunately for the young divers, they all achieved their goal and are now representing the U.S.A. in the 2010 worlds spearfishing competition and again raising the bar! 

THE 2010 USA WORLDS TEAM

 

Justin Allen

Hometown: Pembroke, Massachusetts

             “Watch out for Justin Allen,” John Murphy wrote in his Hawaii Skindiver interview after winning the 03 Nationals.  “He’s young, hungry, and good.  He could be winning these things in a few years.”  A few years later, having won consecutive National titles, I’m glad to have made that prediction a reality. (2008 Individual National Champion, 2009 National Team Champion, 1st Place individual Qualifier for Worlds)

             My diving experience, spanning 15 years, began at the age of eight and I have been competing in the North Atlantic Region since 2000.  I entered the Nationals for the first time in Rhode Island in 2003.  The following year the defending National Champs invited me to Hawaii for an invaluable experience scouting with the team.  That sparked in me, an exponential growth in the sport, which culminated with an Individual National Title in 2008.  My good fortune of diving with the best then continued in 09 as I teamed with Bob Humphrey and Dennis Haussler to take National Team honors and step on the podium once again with a Third Place Individual finish. 

            My passion for the sea developed at an early age and I have always structured my life around it.  I’ve worked in a dive shop, been a commercial lobsterman, commercial spearfisherman, harbormaster, and interned for On The Water, a nationally televised fishing program and magazine, which featured me in both venues.   As a graduate of Massachusetts Maritime Academy I currently work as a Third Mate in the Gulf of Mexico.   

            It’s truly an honor representing Team USA in the greatest sport in the world and I couldn’t be happier with the talented, dedicated team we have.  I’m looking forward to making the most of this adventure and remaining a presence in the spearfishing community as a competitor and promoter of the sport for many years to come.

Dan Silveira

Hometown: Half Moon Bay, California

            Skyscrapers piled into a seven-mile radius with cultures from all around the world and guarded by a golden bridge, San Francisco, was where I started my life journey. My name is Dan Silveira, and for most of my younger years I grew up in an urban city. Finding my pace amongst the hustle and bustle was difficult. Being a gangbanger, punk rocker, or pro basketball player did not fit my style. My craving for the sea led me on a weekly habit of skateboarding to the beach, hoping that someday I would be able to travel the world and dive every part of the globe. I soon moved to a small town 30 minutes South of San Francisco, called Half Moon Bay, where surfing and fishing is a way of life. Through high school I was always fishing, diving, or surfing. My identity as an individual was finally forming by the activities I enjoyed in the ocean. 

            After high school and a short term with the United Stated Coast Guard, I wanted to travel the world, continue my education, and focus my energy in what I love – freediving. Immediately I went to work at a dive center to learn the inns and out’s of the industry. I became a SCUBA instructor and learned the refined art of spearfishing, videography, photography and writing from David Laird. Shortly after, I traveled to Fiji, Hawaii, Mexico, Portugal, Indonesia, Panama, the Caribbean and more. Now I go back and forth from college to work, to the ocean. I am constantly busy learning the art of business, and on my free time I am learning to become a better freediver and spearfisherman. From the sea, I have learned independence, appreciation for Mother Nature and a passion for life.

            I got to where I am today by working hard and being the best that I could be. During tough times, I stayed true to who I am and what I wanted. I was hungry to learn and I never gave up. I am excited for everyone in the sport of freedive spearfishing because it is a challenging sport that has tremendous opportunity for growth. I remember catching my first fish and being just as excited as I am now to spear a 200 pound yellowfin tuna. For everyone reading this, I want to say thank you for being a part of this wonderful community of divers.

Sean Moreschi

Hometown: Charlestown, Rhode Island.

            I was always attracted to the ocean, whether it be fishing, boating or swimming. I was introduced to spearfishing in New England at the age of 14.  From the beginning I was hooked on the sport and dove as often as possible.  Growing up in Connecticut, I was fortunate enough to spend most of my summers by the ocean in Rhode Island.  At the age of 19, I had the chance to spend 5 weeks diving in Fiji. I decided to attend college at the University of Rhode Island so I could be closer to the water year round.  After completing my Bachelors of Science in Aquaculture and Fisheries Technology at URI, I decided to stay and live in Rhode Island.  In order to prolong my spearfishing season, over the past few years I have spent a couple winter months working and diving in Florida.  I have been competitively diving since 2000 and have competed in two US National Competitions. Now, at the age of 24, with over a decade of surreal experiences while diving, it is still my primary passion. Spearfishing is no longer a hobby for me. It is a way of life. 

John Modica

Hometown: Pomfret, Connecticut

            I developed a passion for the ocean when I was a kid by spending every summer on the shores of Rhode Island, when at the ripe age of fourteen; my neighbor introduced me to spearfishing. I loved it so much that I would spend entire summers harvesting fish for my friends and family. A pastime I would not trade for anything else.

Over the years my interests in spearfishing have become more professional. At age 15, the thought of standing on the podium with free gear and a spearfishing trophy appealed to me, but the interesting verdict was that it was not the winning that drew me to competitions, rather the friendships I developed over the years.  Local fundraisers, club meetings and trips abroad created a biography to my life that seemingly changed the direction in ways that I couldn’t be more appreciative for. I never realized the full potential of being a top National competitor until a local diver told me, my team and I could possibly win a national title. In 2008 my team consisting of Mike Marino, Sean Moreschi, and I took first pace as a team in Rhode Island. The following year we went to California to defend our title and although we didn’t take first, the experience was one in a lifetime.

The Worlds…

The 2010 CMAS world spearfishing competition will be held from September 14^th – 19^th in Mali Losinj, Croatia. In order to be competitive in this arena, divers in the competition will produce the highest scores of fish by diving 100+ feet and do it repetitively during two days of competition. The USA Team has never hunted these depths during US national competitions, and this will require a tremendous amount of training.

            Dan initiated the task of developing and strengthening the team’s skills by participating in a Level I freediver Course put on by Freediving Instructors International (FII) and taught by founder of FII, Martin Stepanek. (http://www.freedivinginstructors.com/) Martin Stepanek is a multiple world record holder in freediving disciplines and is a great teacher. During the course, Dan made several dives past 100 feet including a dive to 132 feet. It was an eye opening experience for Dan, where he learned many unknown dangers of the sport and the necessity for safety support, particularly diving with a partner.

After Dan completed the first course with Stepanek, he called the rest of his team to coordinate dates for the entire team to train with Stepanek. In December ‘09 the Worlds team met up in Florida to take part in the Level II Freediver Course. The team was fortunate as FII was kind enough to sponsor the USA Spearfishing Team for the Level II Freediver class.

Team divers Justin, Dan, John, and Sean were all present for the class. John, Justin and Sean drove down from New England and Dan flew in from California. Florida native,  and Team Captain, Brian Lee is a certified FII Instructor and he sat in on the class. The goal of the class was to become a better, deeper and safer spearfishing team.

            They all trained hard, in the classroom, in the pool, in the ocean, in the rain, in rough ocean conditions, in the blistering hot sun, and in perfect conditions. Every diver made 140 + foot dives with air to spare. The four divers worked as a single unit, constantly refining their skills with Martin’s unsurpassed knowledge of proper safety, and proper gear. To become a cohesive unit like they have become, they worked to understand the signs and body language of each other, constantly evaluating every dive before making another dive. After the course with FII they were full of excitement and encouragement to continue the training on their own.

        With Scuba Diving, you have to take safety training before you even get into the waterwith a tank, yet when it comes to freediving, very few freedivers ever take a class before donning a mask and fins. Often the dangers of freediving are overlooked or worse, unknown to the novice diver. Freediving is a sport that has several inherent risks, it is extremely important to be aware of the dangers, and to know how to minimize them. Taking a class that clearly explains the proper way to freedive efficiently and safely will ultimately make a better spearfisherman. Learning what Martin has to teach was both a lot of fun and rewarding.

            Being that the USA team was in Florida and they had a mouth watering craving for fish, they decided it was time to fill their bellies with big tropical fish of Florida.  So after a great four days at the FII class in Fort Lauderdale they were fortunate enough to meet up with the Speardivers crew in the Florida Keys (http://www.speardivers.com/home.html). Speardivers is a television show about spearfishing and preparing fish for the table that airs in Miami and the Florida keys. 

            The team met up with Joe Forcine and business partner Kevin Suthard from Speardivers who collaborated with SeaSquared charters (Captain Chris Johnson) (http://www.seasquaredcharters.com/) The objective was for the US team to spear some nice fish for dinner and get it all on video. With Forcine and Suthard filming, Captain Chris put everyone on a nice reef in 70-80 feet of water. There were quite a few fish around but they also had to contend with a strong current and some big bull sharks. All these variables had their hearts racing and it was crucial to use the skills learned in the class to dive effectively. Justin and Dan were a pair and Sean and John were a second pair. They immediately started their routine of proper warm-ups followed by perfect spotting and the day had begun.

            On Dan’s first dive he was greeted by a ten-foot bull shark. He stayed calm and sat motionless on the bottom. The large bull shark finally faded into the distant haze as a nice sized mutton snapper approached him. With a quick squeeze of the trigger, Dan took a long shot and sent the fish into a rolling quiver. Upon ascending the fish got logged under a ledge. Dan’s safety diver, Justin, met him at 30 feet and proceeded to count Dan’s contractions and evaluate his posture. Finally after a long dive they surfaced and took needed breaths. Soon the other divers cam over, due to the constant battle with big bull sharks, and they added another couple sets of eyes as Justin descended to the bottom some 70 feet below. Working like a team, as one unit, proved that the training with Stepanek was a success. The divers had trained their muscle memory and worked like a well-oiled machine. And of course they landed some fish and got good footage for the Speardivers TV show.           

            The trip and the course were just the beginning of the team’s journey to the worlds. On the drive home from Florida Justin, Sean, and John were almost buried in the snowstorm that dumped 2-4 feet of snow between the Carolina’s and Massachusetts. Since being back in their hometowns, the guys have been training using Martin’s techniques both in and out of the water. And they will continue to strengthen their abilities as the CMAS worlds competition approaches.

For more information about the U.S.A. Spearfishing Team please visit us at www.spearfishingisnotacrime.com/2010worldsspearfishing, www.usaspearfishing.com, our page on Spearboard and facebook .  Show your support for the team! T-Shirts are available now. Send us a message on Facebook or Spearboard for more info. 

“A Pirates Bounty”

By Dan Silveira

            “Yo! Ho! Yo! Ho! A spearo’s life for me”.  We train, prepare, explore, and we travel, in search for the bounty that can only be found in the sea. As the primal instinct of harvesting wild game fades into legendary stories, due to urban cities, countries and nations, my friends and I embark on a trip to fill our coolers with modern day gold!

            Man-O-War, he lays on the surface “arrrrgwaiting” the battle, he craves the primitive impulse to hunt and kill his prey. We are committed to the chase; so let the bloody decks begin. We were in search of “Pieces of Eight”, the ultimate catch one can harvest. To complete our undertaking we needed: yellowtail, barracuda, bonito, halibut, sheephead, mackerel, calico bass, and lobster. For a spearfishermen to land each of these fish in one weekend shows their true ability to hunt varied species in different terrain. If we can fill the “Pieces of Eight”, then we will be rewarded with lots of pirate’s Booty!

            Perfectly still, I lay on the bottom at 65 feet, my eyes twitching from side to side while anticipating game fish. Soon, to my upper right I spotted a wall of fish approaching – Pacific bonito, perfect for midnight sashimi. I lifted off the bottom, leaving a puff of sand behind my fin tips for curious sheephead to investigate. I took aim on the approaching school and with a quick squeeze of the trigger I sent the leader of the pack into a rolling quiver. The following fish were left in a state of confusion while my diver partner, Matt Davidson ambushed the school again from above with a 60 inch shaft into the back of another bonito. We drew our knives, slipping the tip behind the gills filling the sea with red. The first “Pieces of Eight” had been achieved, but only an hour later Matt had a 10 foot great white shark swim below him.

            Un-phased by our presence the shark swam with bold sweeps of its tail. Matt drew his gun on the shark as he retreated to the boat. We were no longer at the top of the food chain. The great white shark is the ultimate apex predator surrendering any and all creatures of the ocean. While the late summer is the best time to hunt yellowtail, it is also the time of the year when the sharks come to the coast of California to feed. The West End of Catalina Island plummets to beyond 1000 feet deep, only a few hundred yards from shore. This is a perfect spot for white sharks to feed on adolescent sealions.

Argh!!!!

            This mantra echoes across the San Pedro Channel from Catalina Island. The first of October coincides with the beginning of lobster season as well as the “Buccaneers Party”.  Each year the sound of cannons roar through Two Harbors as 5,000 people show up on the beaches dressed as pirates.

            Buckets of “pirates grog”, a mixture of fruity rum with a punch, are dipped into as the pirates and wenches dance wildly into the night. For three days the partying continues into the night as divers dawn their wetsuits with hopes of bagging lobster for breakfast. Whether it be thousands of dollars worth of diving equipment or elaborate costumes, this festival has its place for every madman. Ahoy Matey!!! 

            Diehards cross the 20 mile gap between California and Catalina Island on sailboats, powerboats, or by ferry. The boats stack into the small cove of Two Harbors like cordwood. A “diver down flag” is a must when diving among the chaos of drunken sailors buzzing around in dinghies while they pillage drinks from other unlikely boats. Once ashore the pirates entertain even the most reluctant party pooper. The restaurant serves ½ pound local buffalo burgers and french-fries to calm the hangovers that plague the town. There are various bands playing a mixture of music ranging from bluegrass to hip-hop for the down and dirty grinders!

           Only two centuries past its time, many of these modern-day pirates and wenches are older than they act, but the pirates who seek younger booty will find plenty of young college students to fill even a modest pirate chest. In the good old days of yore, there would have been battles for the hottest girls, but during this event everyone is too drunk to even tell the difference. Rather than wearing an eye patch, the pirates choose beer goggles as a replacement, awakening in the arms of someone they don’t even know.

            Alast, me scurvy dogs and I prepare for night diving as the moon rises above us. Many a lie be told that lobster march out of the caves by the hundreds on a full moon, but that must only be in the preserves, because we did not see anything of that nature. To the contrary, the lobster hunting this year was tough. We crammed ourselves deep into the rocks only to harvest a few bugs. At $15 per pound California spiny lobster is a seafood delicacy that lives beneath the kelp forests in tight crack systems along coastal reefs. 

            Far from the Barbary Coast, where the Mediterranean coastline of North Africa, Egypt, and the Atlantic coastline collide, I am left alone to plunder the treasures in my own backyard.  I find myself grinning once again, as I slip beneath the surface for another look. Where many spearo’s have to hunt for hours diving beyond 100 feet to find small fish, we have only to open our eyes and we are engulfed with bait where large game fish zip by every few minutes.

            Before the night dive began, we had a few hours before the lobster season opened. We used the time wisely and hunted for mackerel, soon to find ourselves seeing dark spots in the sand, otherwise known as “halibut”.  I like to think of the halibut as “olives in a martini glass”.  As the evening hours approach, the halibut darken in camouflage, but armed with a high-powered flashlight they stand no chance.  The sand is white and the halibut are brown. In less than an hour, I had shot three mackerel and four halibut, Tom Fiene shot one flattie, and Matt shot the big boy. We quickly threw the fish into the cooler on the beach and revitalized our spirits as lobster season approached. We swam like mad men through the mooring buoys, boats and anchor lines to a hole I knew. When midnight struck we all took deep breathes, raced to the bottom each grabbing a lobster. Shortly after we had a few in the sack, the lobster knew the season had opened and they retreated to their homes. We continued into the night until our skin was pruned and wrinkly.

            The campfire warmed our bones as we cooked lobster and halibut on the grill. We made some bonito sashimi along with ceviche from the mackerel. Ceviche is marinated in a citrus-based limejuice mixture with salsa. The citric acid causes the proteins in the seafood to become denatured, and cooks the fish without heat. We ate until we were content and hit the sack for an early morning dive the next day.

            At 7:00 am we awoke to a picturesque view from the tent. The cove was quiet and the ocean was still. We suited up and motored out to a pinnacle that usually holds barracuda and yellowtail. The current was ripping and it took continuous kicking just to stay in place. I made a few dives and not before long I had speared a couple good sized California barracuda. This fish is not to be confused with the toothy Caribbean barracuda, which are not often used as table fare. This barracuda is great for fish tacos, and a favorite among the locals.

            As I swam towards the drop off where yellowtail frequent, I heard my friend Barry Krupp yell “yellowtail!!!”.  He had seen a school of about 30 fish below him but did not get a shot.  It was good now we knew the yellows were still around. We dove for a few more hours and soon Tom was hooked up to a nice 28 pound yellowtail. The school had returned and presented Tom with an easier shot. We now had one fish on the boat but after a couple more hours of hunting we had not seen any more.

            We relocated to a spot I had shot yellowtail before. I made a descent to 30 feet and continued on a motionless glide to 55 feet.  I turned to my left and out of the gloom came a school of eight, large yellowtail, heading straight for me.  I faced the fish, keeping my profile small, extended the gun and just as I was about to pull the trigger, the school turned around. I repositioned my gun and fired at the biggest fish before they got away.  I had a good shot, but the fish fought determinedly.  Shortly after, we had two nice yellowtail on the boat and it was almost time to call it a day.

            The last spot we went to was a rock that protrudes out of the water one mile off the coast.  I made several dives to 80 and 100 feet shooting many large calico bass and even a 20 pound sheephead. I called the other divers over to show them my catch and soon Matt was back at the boat with a 23 pound sheephead. We were now ready to receive our booty. 

            We had accomplished our mission “Pieces of eight”. We managed to spear; yellowtail, barracuda, bonito, halibut, sheephead, mackerel, calico bass, and catch a handful of lobster. The final shot across the bow bellowed through the coves of the island as we ate a feast fit for kings symbolizing the closing to a trip that will be remembered for years to come.

Dead fish tell no tales, only the ones who capture them.

Written by Dan Silveira

No prey, No Pay!!!!!  

Pirates Jargin:

Argh—The first word in any pirate’s vocabulary.  This word is used to punctuate any sentence. 


Buccaneer—Pirates who menaced the Spanish of the Caribbean. 



Aye—Yes or any other affirmative reply. 


Ye— Used in place of “you”.

Me—Used in place of “my”. 


Booty—Treasure. 


Pieces of Eight—Spanish coins held by only the best pirates. (In the story – Symbolizes the difficulty in spearing 8 different species of fish).

Scurvy Dog =  a prolific Pirate (in the story – A prolific spearfisherman).

Hulk—British prison ships that captured pirates and privateers. 


Red Ensign—British flag. 


Scuttle—To sink. 


Cackle Fruit—Hen’s eggs. 


Barbary Coast—The Mediterranean coastline of North Africa, from Egypt to the Atlantic coastline. 


Man-of-War—A vessel designed and outfitted for battle. (In the story – a diver outfitted for battle).


“Ahoy, Matey”— Hail, fellow sailor.

“No prey, no pay”—Crew received no wages, but shared in whatever loot was taken.

“Run a shot across the bow”—Command to fire a shot.

"The Game"

By Dan Silveira

Issue #41

Drifting in deserted waters I wondered where the fish had gone.For hours I lay alone on the surface like a floating log missing land. Fifty miles from shore, I strained my sun-kissed eyes to dance with the light as I calmly pumped my fins back and forth during my long descent. Once I hit the river of chilled water, a thermocline, I looked up to see a shoal of frantic mackerel swimming back toward me. I took aim on a 150-pound Yellow fin tuna, finding my mark, as it passed in front of my spear tip. As my friends and I always say, “If you play the game and put in your time, the fish will find you,” and that’s what happened.

There is something that occurs while playing the game. You get better!!! There are hundreds of details happening while we are spearfishing and it is up to the diver to decipher what they mean and how to use the data. During one of my most epic spearfishing trips to Mexico, I was finally able to put this information into some kind of strategy. There are only a handful of things to focus on, but they have a way of looking different each time.

-Rules of the Game-

-Structure-

“ I was in the right spot at the right time.” Is that just luck or was there some reason for the coincidence??? Finding structure is at the top of my list. I spend countless hours on my computer looking at marine charts to determine where the best structure is. Mountains underwater offer a hierarchy of life starting with the smallest organisms and fish mounting up to the massive predators like tuna, marlin and sharks. Fish can be found in open water, but it is such a gamble for me to spend all my time hunting in the vast blue. I like using a combination of deep blue next to large underwater structures that allow me to bounce back and forth until I find the fish.I imaging these underwater mountains like a flowing river, it gives me a better picture of where the fish will be and how the bait will arrange themselves. The currents may seem to go one way, but underwater eddies and back currents allow pelagic fish to hunt their prey with ease. Tuna will follow these underwater rivers to navigate circles around a series of ridges and pinnacles. I finally figured the time laps and the specific spots the tuna would return to!!!

-Bait-

While on the surface waiting for my next dive I constantly scan above water, triangulating my position and looking for diving birds. Frantic baitfish being attacked from both underwater and by diving frigates will signal that the fish are on their way. I quickly tuck my head back into the water as to not miss anything and re-position myself – focusing on every changing variable possible. If the bait fish disappear from below me, I know something big is going to arrive in less than 15 seconds. I tuck my gun against my body like a soldier at attention, always keeping aware of my float line. To shoot a 200-pound fish while rapped in my line could result in my last moments alive. There are 4 sets of bait that I found where I was hunting. The outer most bait consisted of bonito, and blue back mackerel; these fish were franticly racing around and were never in the exact same spot. Fallowing the outer bait was a wall of small pepper jacks and smaller mackerel. As I drifted closer to the pinnacle I would start to see the reef fish in the distance and occasionally a mass of large schooling horse-eye jacks.

- Current -

Knowing where the bait is will also allow me to know the depth ranges I am covering. As I move closer to the reef fish I know the bottom is rising, and I need to get back up current into the deeper water. The current usually gets stronger as the water gets shallower, so it always helps to stay in deeper water and use the moon phases to your advantage. The currents are strongest when there is no moon or full moon. When the moon is half the currents are the lightest. I usually prefer to dive somewhere in between. Without current the fish get lazy and are harder to find. When there is lots of current the fish are moving around constantly, but staying in the hot spot is almost impossible. The types of fins I choose are critical to not using up all my energy and oxygen. I like to dive with fiberglass or carbon fiber fins. They are much softer then plastic but have much more response.

- Equipment -

Once I have a hand on my surroundings, I can focus my efforts on my equipment. I know that chasing fish is often impossible, so I do everything in my capabilities to attract the fish to me. I always use camo because the fish see in contrast, not color, so the most important thing to do, is break up your shape. I used different types, colors, and patterns depending on if I am hunting reef or in the blue. They all help. I use camo fins from time to time, or I will add reflective tape. The shimmering light will often bring hunting fish in for a closer look. To further my chances, I use a mirrored mask to keep the fish from seeing my eyes. Sometimes it is extremely difficult to constantly scan the edge of visibility, causing me to get lazy and I will find myself staring just a few inches in front of my mask at pieces of floating debris. I like to throw a shiny circular disk in front of me and watch it sink. This gives me a point of reference so I can re-establish my depth perception. When hunting tuna a big speargun is necessary. Having a gun that can shoot 20 feet and still penetrate a 200-300 pound fish is ideal. Three to six bands offers 250-500 pounds of thrust to the shaft.

- The Last Day -

I found myself getting on the boat alone this morning. The sky was glowing with orange as the sun came up while the 34 foot boat started the journey, heading 30 miles off shore to the tuna grounds. The ocean had been so rough the day before that one of the prop supports broke. The captain told me we would have to go at ½ speed, but I didn’t want to give up, so we pushed on for the next 3 hours. The morning started off rough like the day before, and I was wondering what I was doing out there all alone, but within an hour the ocean started to flatten out and the clouds moved away. It was time to play the game.

I continued to make drifts until I found the perfect order of bait in a location that was perfect for tuna. The solitude of diving alone turned into a guilty pleasure as I slipped off the back of the boat for another drift. For a moment, I felt a sensation of success, when a just few moments later I caught glimpse of tuna below me. I took a deep breath and started a perfect descent to 60 feet. My goal on this dive was to position myself at the edge of the school allowing the tuna to swim to me. This is a process that takes time, so I was ready for a 1:45 minute dive. I pitched my left leg out of the water using the other to propel me down in silence. I calmly trusted my fins back and forth as I sank into the school of tuna. I watched the fish behind me by peaking through the gap between my arm and my body. Soon fish would materialize out of the haze fifty feet away. The endless school of giants continued their path closer to me. The one I had been waiting for parted from the group and swam directly below me. I quickly kicked 3 more times to fill the gap, and pulled the trigger as the fish was quartering away.There was an explosion of bubbles as my float line arched away from me. During my ascent from 60 feet, what normally feels like 20 seconds, felt like eternity. I knew my shot was perfect, but I questioned my certainty and I couldn’t help but wonder just how big the fish was.

Upon hitting the surface, I threw the bands of my gun over my shoulder and proceeded to swim with my arms and legs to catch up to my prized catch. Within moments I was at my buoy pulling line in, hand over hand, as if there were no end. When hunting tuna I prefer to use bungee rather than standard line. The bungee gives gradually rather then a harsh stop, possibly tarring the fish. Soon, I could see shimmers of color below me so I yelled to the boat for another gun. Being that I was alone, I did not want to take any risks so I felt that a second shot would be wise even though I had a great shot. The boat captain threw me my Omer 130 cm gun. I loaded it and started the descent to 65 feet where I sent a spine tingling shot into the fish. The game was now over. I grabbed the 175-pound tuna and horsed the dead weight to the surface.

Over the next two hours, what happened was beyond my wildest dreams. I shot 3 more tuna up to 150-pounds. The last fish was the most insane battle I had ever experienced yet. I saw a school of large fish come into view, so I dropped into the center of the school at 50 feet. The large tuna were everywhere, above, below, to the right, to the left, leaving me wondering which one to spear. After about one minute, I took aim on the closest one. I squeezed the trigger and sent the fish booming to the bottom. To my astonishment, I pulled the fish right back up. I yelled to the boat again for a back up shot, as they threw me the second gun. I loaded it quickly and made a 40-foot drop, but just as I grabbed the line the fish had a sudden urge to run. The reverberation of the float line roared as the fish sounded into the vast sea of fading light. I held on to the line tightly as the fish towed me into the abyss. I lined up and pulled the trigger just as my ears were about to explode. I ducked away from the lines as one of my buoys came zipping past me. This was not supposed to happen when a second shot is placed. This fish was on steroids and had no intension of giving up now. With two buoys tombstoned for a few moments, I wondered if the fish was bigger then I thought. For the next half an hour the fish pulled me in circles creating a tangled mess of float lines. With this knotted mess of lines I knew the risk grew increasingly, with every circle the large tuna made.

Reluctantly, I yelled to the captain for another gun; however, there was a problem… We did not have another float line and the shaft was set up to breakaway from the gun. With a moment to think, the captain rigged the shooting cable to a fishing line on a fishing pole, and casted it to me. I loaded the gun and he free spooled the line as I made the 30-foot drop. BANG I shot the fish a third time finally slowing it down.

I grabbed the fish, but just as my hand touched the shaft the fish exploded for one final run. Normally I would have simply let the fish go, but with the mass of tangled line behind me, I was committed to holding on until I killed the tuna. I angled the fish upward as we exploded from the water onto the surface. The boat captain was yelling with excitement, as we thrashed back and forth. Somehow, I managed to get my arm inside the gill-plate and my legs wrapped around the tail, but this did not stop it either. Like a pro baseball player using my inner thighs for batting practice the 150-pound tuna turned my once white thighs into a couple of swollen purple eggplants. I gasped for air and yelled for the captain to reel me in (due to the pain in my legs). He leaned back and reeled hard. He had to pull me, the fish, and the tangled nest of lines, back to the boat. Finally the captain grabbed me and pulled me into the boat for some much needed rest. This time the game was truly over as we laughed about the incredible battle I had just experienced.

With the surge of the tides calming my heart rate to a slow thump, my eyes strain past the tiny particles of debris that float only 6 inches from my mask. The urge to relax and focus only a few feet in front of me sends my motionless body into a state of trance. Time becomes a distant idea of imagination leaving me indulged by the sea. I am wrapped in camouflage and armed with a piece of steal. Only few will ever understand the aspiration freedivers seek away from the chaos on land. We are left alone to play the game!!! This article is dedicated to my friend Paolo Domeniciwho was lost recently at sea while freediving. May he find calm waters and big fish to spear.