Was my super grouper a big blooper?

When I was a 12-year-old wharf rat in Apalachicola in 1938, I was already a well-trained fisherman, thanks to my father, George W. Butler, who had fished the rivers and bays of Franklin County since his arrival in 1925. I had often met the Mosconis snapper boats “Eumorphia,” skippered by Capt. George, and the “Aspasia,” later, skippered by his older son, Capt. Nick.

Sometimes, if the seafood dealer was shipping dressed fish, I was allowed to remove the cheeks from the grouper heads. They are delightfully flavored, and tender medallions averaging 2 to 4 inches in diameter and 2 inches thick.

I wan ted to go deep-sea fishing and with the aid of George Egbert, a family friend, and Capt. George’s mate, I was hired on as a Boat Boy at one-half share for a 10-day trip to the ‘banks,” far out in the Gulf, on the ex-sponge boat, the “Emorphia” with the captain, six-man crew and a Boat Boy.

There was a two-part story in the Times on Nov. 11 and 18, 2004 under Jimmie Nichols’ byline” “Apalach Diary: Ten Days Before the Mast” was one of several short to extra-short stories that I submitted and was printed thanks to Jimmie. I miss Jimmie, whom I have known since childhood. The story in the Times by David Adlerstein on July 19, 2009 about the Warsaw/Goliath grouper jarred my old memory back 70 years to what was my third largest lifetime catch, a 512-pound “jewfish” or Warsaw grouper. Goliath was only a Biblical name back then and wasn’t fish-related to me.

On our last of a 10-day run, we were ready to secure the boat for an overnight run into Apalachicola. When Captain George yelled “Up lines! Up lines!” I was ready for home and family after 10 days of daylight to dark pulling fish from deep water, beside other Boat Boy duties and staying wet and damp 24/7.

As I began to retrieve my hand line (about 3/16” diameter of 3-strand twisted cotton), it stopped coming. I yelled “Bottom! Bottom!” which was the signal for the captain to disengage the clutch and stop forward motion. Mate George Egbert came forward with “nippers” on his hands and set back on the line and after a few pulls he handed the line back to me and said ,” Red, you’ve got a biggun.” He then went aft and spoke with the captain.

While I went with a longtime fight with an unknown “monster of the deep,” the crew and captain went about their normal duties of preparing the boat for homeward-bound, occasionally stopping to laugh about the fight the “Boy” was having.

How long did I fight that fish? No one really knew ‘cause the only timepiece was in the engine compartment where the skipper slept, and anyway, landing time wasn’t important on a commercial boat; get ‘em up and off, bait up and get back down.

Afterwards, I was told that normally, large jewfish were cut loose because of the low sale value and the huge amount of ice necessary to preserve the fish, as well as the lost time landing one.

Finally, the fish began to rise and all the fight was gone; just the heavy load on my line. I finally heard the lead weight on my line striking the boat’s hull. I took a couple of turns around the rail with the line so I could look down and whatever I had hooked. Not having caught anything larger than a 20-pound black drum with hand lien, I couldn’t visualize what I was going to see. The first thing was a huge mouth filed with something, and an enormous head with rather small eyes staring at me.

I turned away exhausted and sat down to rest. George Egbert went over the side of the boat and secured a rope through the mouth and gills while the crew rigged the line through pulleys. My monster fish was lowered to the deck and I was given the job of drawing (removing the intestines) while the boat headed for home. The jewfish was lowered to the floor of the hold and covered with our remaining ice and an old tarp.

Capt. George estimated the caught weight as “’bout 500 pounds.” My weight was 90 pounds. In later years I found a handwritten note I had made giving the dock weight at 512 pounds at a price of 3 cents a pound. I cannot remember how it was weighed but I have a flicker of memory of cotton-bale scales? Does anyone know of such scales that would have weight a 512-pound grouper on the dock in 1938? Can anyone give me a ratio of body weight to entrails of a large grouper?

My previous reference to “my third largest catch” refers to a couple times while trawling from a USAF Crash Rescue Boat off Panama City in 1950. I had inadvertently hooked up with a 30-foot Whale Shark which I released boat side, and again another accidental hookup with a Manta Ray with an estimated 10-foot wing span. The ray was towed into Tyndall Air Force base and turned over to some branch of the state fisheries.

At 83 years old, I’m no longer looking for a record breaker.