Before we all got GPS units on our boats, we found the plane using triangulation with tall trees on the island. In the clear water, it didn’t take long to locate. I’m sure that by now the GPS numbers have been plugged in to more units than I care to imagine. I’m also quite sure that the plane has deteriorated sitting on the bottom after Hurricane Andrew went through the area in the 1992.
The last time I fished this wreck, my partner, Charlie, and I donned our diving gear and went over the side to take a look. We had broken off several good fish that got back into the wreck, and we wanted to see what they were.
There are lots of divers in south Florida who use scuba equipment. All my life growing up we never needed anything but a mask, a snorkel, and some fins to accomplish our diving tasks. So over we went, each of us carrying a primitive homemade spear called a Hawaiian sling.
As we circled the wreck and dove down to look, we saw several good-sized grouper swimming under and around the wings. A school of large mangrove snapper swam in and around the area as well.
We speared a couple of snapper and pitched them into the boat, and headed back down to find a grouper. As we did, several large barracuda showed up on the wreck. Staying just out of range and almost hidden in the water, they slowly circled the wreck.
We speared two more snapper, and as we swam up and toward the boat, the cudas began streaking through the area faster than any fish I ever saw. I use the term silver streak, because that is exactly what they looked like! Fearing the worst with this behavior, we quickly got out of the water and into the boat.
Past experiences with barracudas taught us that if we can catch and release one of the big ones, it will leave the area, along with all its friends. So we baited up a rod with a good wire leader and began fishing. It didn’t take long to hook up, and the fight was on!
After running straight away from the stern of the boat, this cuda turn and moved toward the port side of the boat. My guess is this one was about five feet long and probably would weigh in around fifty pounds. It fought hard and made a number of runs before it decided to do something I never saw a cuda do before and have never seen one do since.
Running parallel to the boat, this one suddenly turned and ran directly at the boat. As I cranked line trying to keep up with it, this five foot silver log came flying out of the water, mouth open and teeth sparkling in the sun, and sailed across the back of the boat missing my head by inches. It entered the water on the other side of the boat. The now loose line became tangled on some object in the boat, and as the fish took off away from the boat, the line snapped, sounding like a firecracker.
It all happened so fast, I had little time to react or think. I do think I ducked when he came out of the water, but I’m not real sure. I do know this: when it was all over and I had time to sit and think, it dawned on me how close a call it really was. My heart began pounding, and I was a nervous wreck for quite a while.
Needless to say, we did not go back in the water on the plane wreck that day. In fact, I didn’t go back in the water at all that day. Charlie finally went over on another reef site and picked up some lobster for dinner. All I could picture were those white teeth flying by, inches from my head.
I read last week of an angler that was bitten by a cuda as he tried to boat the fish. With a gaff in the fish, the angler was attempting to remove the hook when the fish kicked up out of the water and latched onto his stomach. I can only imaging the pain. As I recall, it took quite a number of stitches to sew up that wound.
I always respected barracudas, as evidenced by our exiting the water when their strange behavior began. But, after that trip to the plane wreck, I became more than respectful. The last thing I ever want to see again is a set of razor sharp teeth flying by my head!
