The Big Toad

The Big Toad Written and Illustrated by Ken Wada

Call me Ichimori. I am riding with my older brother Matsumori, (Mat), in an old Chevy Apache 10 pickup truck.

The date is August of 1972, and I am a young man of 14 years of age, (born in November). We are both heading out of our family farm near Caruthers, California. It is about 10:00 PM in the evening; and we are heading out to Virg’s landing in Morro Bay, California.

The year is an El-Nino year. The big thing about El-Nino, in California, is not only the prodigious amounts of rain, but the warming of the Pacific Ocean brings the big-game warm water fish up to the Central Coast of California. My older brother and I are going fishing for the ultimate game fish. This fish is the albacore tuna.

We are both very excited. Tuna is almost a religion in Japanese culture. It’s a big, strong and powerful fish which is highly prized for sushi and sashimi.

The reason why we are going out at 10:00 PM is because the tuna boats put out at midnight. It takes roughly one and a half hours to drive from our farm to Morro Bay.

We get to the landing, check in and pay the fees. The fees include all the rigging, tackle and bait for the day ahead. I ask the deck-hand how long it will take to get out to the fishing area. He tells me the fishing area is approximately 100 to 120 miles out from shore. We are on a very large boat which have bunk beds in the hold.

They assign us to a bunk. After spending some time on the foredeck; I go to sleep at around 1:00 AM in the morning.

We are rousted out of our bunks at around 5:30 AM. We find out the crew is comprised of three people. We have the captain or skipper, the main deckhand, known as the bosun, and the deckhand.

The Skipper comes out of the pilothouse and yells out to us. “Escuchame! Listen up Amigos! The weather is looking good. The fishing will be good. Remember, there is a two fish per person limit on all the catches. Kiki is our main deckhand. Just follow his orders and directions, and you should be good. Muy Bueno no?”

And another thing mi-compadres! There is a bonus pool that you can take part in. Whoever catches the biggest fish collects the pool. The lottery is $20 to participate. I will be the first to contribute.” He shows us a $20 bill, and posts it on the side of the pilothouse for all to see. All attention now goes to the bosun. Kiki looks Mexican; however, he tells us he is Portuguese. There’s a very large Azorean population in Central California. They take great pride in calling themselves Azorean instead of Portuguese.

Kiki is an Azorean Campozino Pescadore; this is translated to Azorean Peasant Fisherman. Kiki is a very wiry and muscular fellow. He is wearing a yellow slicker with jeans and a flannel shirt. His shirt is rolled up and one can clearly see his arms are covered in tattoos. Kiki also has very long hair. To tell you the truth; this is the 1970’s, and most men, at the time, are sporting very long hair. Kiki wore his hair as a top knot. So, imagine this; we have a Mexican Skipper, and an Azorean bosun, who looks very much like Queequeg of “Moby Dick”!

Kiki proceeds to show us how to do our own rigging for the fishing rods. We are using live anchovies from the baitwell along with razor-sharp stainless-steel hooks. Some are not paying attention. It’s clear this have done this before. It’s a bit unnerving to reach down into the live well, scoop up a wriggling anchovy and hook it onto your rig. This is done while folks are scurrying around a pitching, rocking boat. The smell of the scene is a bit wild. The smells are primarily that of testosterone mixed with diesel fuel and fish guts Unfortunately, due to the pitching, rocking, and smell; my brother got very seasick and was heaving over the transom, or laying down in the cabin.

“FISH-ON!” That was the cry from the deckhand. Everyone got excited and grabbed their rigs and baited up and went to their assigned spots all around the boat. Kiki became very lively and started shouting orders to all the fishermen and deckhand. We got to the spot, and from a distance, you can see the anchovies jumping out of the

water. As I looked down over the transom, I could clearly see silver and blue flashes in the sea! This is it! This is the tuna! It was pure pandemonium. Anchovies, Albacore, razor sharp hooks flying everywhere! There were lots more fish guts which made for an extra treacherous footing. Kiki and the deckhand were both wielding a gaff. They were working as fast as possible and helping us to land the fish onto the deck. Kiki and the deckhand were both wielding a gaff. They were working as fast as possible and helping us to land the fish onto the deck.

After a while; there was albacore everywhere on the deck. I managed to get a hookup, but lost the fish in all the commotion. I did get another and managed, with Kiki’s help, to land it on the deck. After a while, the fishing stopped, and the skipper started moving the boat to another location. After hitting about three or four locations, there were fish everywhere on the deck. It was about this time, about 9 or 10 AM, the fishing really did slow down. It was pretty clear that we went out into the middle of the ocean, and were working our way back towards land. There was a lull of about 30 minutes or so. Kiki yells out, “BIG FISH!” All of us run for our rigs, and the captain says over the intercom. “Hold on amigos! This is not tuna; it is a BIG FISH. This is the one which will pay for our trip.” We moved over to the transom and checked out what the commotion is all about.

Then, we see it. Not only do we see it; we see all manner of wild life, mostly pelicans, gulls and other birds are getting in on the commotion. Off in the distance, underneath the circling birds, we see the ocean boiling. It looks like a boiling cauldron fueled by the fires of Hell! The birds are going mad with frenzy. The view is surreal as in an Alfred Hitchcock movie.

Then I see it. The ocean is displaced by a fast-moving object. This thing is huge! Just ahead of the movement, the anchovies and sardines are leaping out of the water. The baitfish ball is leaping, gyrating in front of the displacement wake. Behind the wake are hundreds of wounded anchovies and sardines. The birds and wildlife are absolutely going nuts. Kiki is very busy. He goes to a very large storage chest on the starboard bow next to the live well. He reaches in and pulls out a vicious looking harpoon. The deckhand is helping Kiki pull out a bunch of rope which has barrels attached to it. One of the salts tells me there is about 1000 feet of line. Each barrel is spaced about 30 feet apart. The line has at least 25 to 30 barrels on it. This is about 1000 feet of line and barrels.

Kiki and the deck hand remove the railing from the starboard gunwale and place the coiled rope with barrels next to it. Kiki attaches the line to the harpoon. He moves out on the bow gang-plank. Treading out on the bow gangplank takes a fair amount of nerve. The plank is a foot wide with a very small railing. One can very easily fall into the ocean.

Kiki is on the bow gang-plank. The deckhand is adjusting the line to ensure the harpoon and rigging are always clear of any obstruction. The skipper is skillfully following the big wake and moving baitfish boil. It goes on like this for what seems like an eternity. Kiki then gives a massive heave of the harpoon! The barrels are leaping off the deck and plunging straight into the briny depths of the sea. One-barrel! Two, Three … Seven … Finally, the barrels start slowing down at around seventeen barrels. This is about two football fields, or about 500 feet of line!

Kiki and the deck hand attach the end of the line to a small buoy. The buoy has a very long mast, with a big flag on the end. The rest of the barrels, along with the buoy and flag are heaved overboard. The captain then announces that we will continue fishing and come back periodically to check the barrels. We continue fishing. It’s almost 11 AM. We do not run into many schools. Some of the trollers put out rigs and catch some tuna. We periodically come back to check on the barrels. After about 20 or 30 minutes, we see that about 2 or 3 barrels have come up. We go out again, and check a few minutes later. More barrels come up. By an hour’s time, most of the barrels were up. We were originally at around 20 or so barrels, and by this time, barrel number 4 or so was showing up on the surface. This is about 120 feet below the surface.

At about 3 barrels, the captain orders Kiki and the deckhand to attach the line to the fore deck winch. They attach the line to the winch and start pulling it. Kiki is pulling the line. The deckhand is moving the barrels and operating the winch. Once the slack is taken up, the fish notices the force and makes a mad dash! The line spools off at a frantic pace and makes a very loud buzzing sound! The captain lets off the propellor and allows the fish to drag the boat with it. The pulling in, with the line going out, continues for a half hour or so. Everyone leans over the transom and gets a look at a very large shiny olive-green yellow object in the sea. What we see is a broadbill swordfish! It has a pair of huge sentient eyes. The bill is shaped like a large 6-inch-wide sword. It is no wonder it left a wake of wounded baitfish in its wake. As it was being winched up to the side of the boat, it started thrashing and heaving. Everyone was wondering how anybody could haul in such a beast which has a large sword for a snout.

Kiki opens the big box which had the harpoon in it. He reaches in, and pulls out a pump-action 12-gauge Remington super-magnum shotgun. He reaches into the box and pulls out a box of deer slugs. He loads up the gun, and smiles and speaks. “Fish put up no more fight with deer slug!”

The skipper starts reversing the boat. The boat along with the deckhand and winch is maneuvered to get the fish underneath the bow gang-plank. Kiki leans over the gang plank and leans over to the point where it looks like he is going to fall in. Then BOOM and four more shots are taken. Kiki expertly shoots the big fish right in the skull. The fish rolls over and the deckhand starts winching in. Kiki puts the gun away and helps the deckhand. They get the fish next to the transom and expertly tie the tail to the line on the aft winch. They pull the fish on the aft deck.

It was at this time; we realized just how massive this thing is! They had to fit the thing along the length of the ship. The length, including bill, was measured to just short of 20 feet. The girth of the fish was measured at around 3 feet. The captain estimated that this fish must weigh at around 800 to nearly 1000 pounds. Kiki and the deckhand were all smiles. They said they are definitely going to get a huge bonus from the captain. They said that after paying off the expenses of the trip; the captain gets half, and the other half is split among the crew. They estimated the total payout for this fish to be nearly $3000. This is the price of a brand-new car in 1972!

The captain comes out of the pilothouse. He says to us. “Hoy amigos! Today, we have a very good fishing trip. I say the big fish prize goes to Kiki and the deckhand. What do you say?” To this, a united raucous cheer goes up. Everyone is in very good spirits and gives a roar of approval to Kiki and the deckhand. We put back to Morro Bay. Kiki and the deckhand are cleaning and tagging all the fish. In the meantime; a young Chinese man is squatting next to the fish. He runs his hand over the fish. He puts his finger on the body. He scrawls out the phrase “Big Toad” on the fish. This fish is indeed a “Big Toad”. This image is the reason why I titled this story the “Big Toad”. This really did happen. I saw it with my very own eyes.

The boat pulls into the dock. We collect all our stuff and exchange our tags for the fish we caught. Representatives from the Starkist seafood company are out near the parking lot with pallets of canned albacore tuna. Some local representatives from the restaurants have also setup tables near the parking lot. Some of the fishermen are trading in their second tuna for either cans of tuna or money from the restaurants.

I go up to the Starkist table and ask the reps, “Hey? Where is Charlie the Tuna?”. They tell me “Charlie could not make it. He got waylaid by a grey tabby."

Everyone onshore has heard about the crew’s good fortune. There is an air of excitement at the dock. It’s quite apparent this does not happen very often. My brother immediately recovers from his seasickness. Unfortunately, he comes away empty handed. However, I have managed to catch a very nice tuna. Later that evening, we have vegetables, fresh sashimi, and teriyaki tuna.

Authors Note:

This is a true story. The names were changed around. Some of the facts were embellished to help fit it into another great maritime story by Herman Melville. But … what fish story is NOT embellished?