That's an important word. In my case, the word "purchase" defines what I didn't have enough of in the maw of a great fish last night. It's one of the most significant unknowns after hooking a fish. You can never really be sure how much you have until you land the fish and see for yourself. I lost the fish of a lifetime last night (my lifetime at least) and my hands are still shaking.
To start things off, the fish hit while back-reeling. After stopping the reel handle from bashing my knuckles bloody, I managed to re-engage the anti-reverse switch and catch myself from getting yanked off my rock. For the next minute or so it was nothing but drag. Not the throbing fast-slow-fast-slow drag pull I deal with on fish I used to consider big. No, this was a new kind of run. Kind of like the equivalent of casting your plug across the track at a tractor pull. I remember thinking: "How am I going to stop this thing before it takes all my line?" When, all of a sudden, it slowed down. It didn't slow because of anything I did. No, it was coming up for air. The fish slowed down to nearly a stop and started throwing its head around on the surface trying to toss the plug. Now, at this time the wind had shifted to the south and built to a steady 15 kts or so. The sound of the constantly breaking 2-4ft chop along with the wind singing in my ear was deafening. But I swear, through all that noise, 150-200 yards out, I could hear that fish throwing water. My heart's pounding now. At this point I'm thinking it's definatley over. She's going to throw the hook, right? Oh no. Not yet. She wasn't done with me yet. The fish buried its head in the water and this time it decided to go left instead of out.
I'll have to admit, this next part of the fish's release strategy was something I wasn't fully prepared for. I've had fish go into the rocks to try to rub plugs off before but this next trick was new for me. The fish shot left at about the same speed as the initial run but, without hesitation and without slowing down, it ran into rock after rock without changing course. And I don't mean rubbing rocks or getting down into them, I mean pounding rocks in its path at full force! On the third or fourth hit my line fell slack and I felt nothing but the plug. Got the plug back and the hooks were fine.
I didn't stand a chance. That simple. I'm almost embarrased to admit there wasn't one second of that battle that I actually felt in control. Can't wait to try again though. May as well go fishing cause I can't sleep now anyway.
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