Word: fish
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...Tran, head of the Vietnamese Fishing Association, is preparing to move his people to nearby Terrebonne Parish, where he hopes officials will be more hospitable. Says Perez: "They don't understand our laws. They fish out of season. There are reports they catch seagulls, pluck them alive, and when they decide to eat them, wring their necks. Dogs - that's one of their favorite foods too. I have a friend who had a setter, and one day he came home and saw the hide sitting right out front. That's their business if they eat dogs...
...experienced sport fisherman, ran to the fighting chair, strapping his canvas harness to the fiber-glass rod. Some swordfish like to tease the bait. Not this one. He had hit with the wallop of a freight train. Mann released the ratchet on the reel to let the fish run. Then, without warning, the line slackened. The broadbill was streaking to the surface. He rose out of the water and fell back with a splash we could hear but not see. The glow of the Cyalume marked him 100 yds. to starboard. We could detect only the eerie green light, which...
...night lengthened, and still we waited for the big strike. It was time for fish stories. In that genre of hyperbole and pride, swordfish stories are unique: most of them are true. The broadbill is an aggressive fish, to put it mildly. Swordfish have punched holes in boats, Jaws-style, and have even been known to charge in packs when one of them was hooked. As half a dozen fish bore down for the second time on one Miami angler, he called it quits, cut his line and sped away. Another fisherman lost his broadbill when, after a three-hour...
...flash, the fish reversed directions. To our amazement, he was coming straight at our stern. Now he was faintly visible in our lights-400 lbs. of fury, rapier bill pointed dead at us, slapping the water to a froth. Peacock and I crouched at the gunwale with gaffs, ready to do battle...
Then, 50 yds. out, the drama ended as quickly as it had begun. With a magnificent snap of his head, the fish flung the 3-in. hook out of his mouth. And then, with an ecstatic dive, he plummeted free into the deep. We were beaten, but there were no regrets on board. The one that got away had put up a furious fight. The memory would last. There would be other nights to float on the black and silent sea and wait for the electrifying moment when a broadbill would nose up from the depths, ready to duel with...