By: Michael A. Owen
The Jungle Ulua Adventure season wrapped up in September this year. Guests this season from Australia, California, Europe and New Caledonia were all put to the test of some exciting and adventurous Ulua fishing. For the most part fishing was consistent as usual, although half way thru the season a turn in events would see some of the biggest hookups and largest fish landed we have ever seen. I’m calling it the Running of the Bulls!! For those who were there and willing to step up to the plate the rewards were there for the taking. On the other hand something strange we had never seen before was taking place. Along with the run of big fish there was an unexplainable pause in
small fish being caught. For a 2 week period ,no Papio, no Queen Fish (Lie), no small Ulua. Normally an abundance of these species are around in between the big hookups. All we were getting were the big boys during this time. So, we took it on !! 
At the conclusion of a season which saw my partner Cyrus Boyum land his biggest Ulua ever (in the 80lb.range) and myself lose one of my biggest ever,( right on the shore). Jungle Ulua Adventures looks back at a session with Jean-luc Fernandez ( Doc) our guest from New Caledonia.
Bear in mind Doc was a last minute guest for the adventure. A old surfing mate, Doctor, and excellent free lance photographer whom I met in New Caledonia years ago. When we met up again in Bali this year his first question was could he get in on a trip to the jungle with us? Cyrus and I lined everything up and we made a trip into the local Bali tackle shop to try and outfit him up the best we could. I was prepared to lend my old friend any of my own personal gear, but Doc was adamant about getting at least one setup of his own. We managed to find a new Penn 6500 spinning reel and a fairly stiff spinning rod that was just over 7 foot .In a pinch we came up with the goods.
As some of our guests arrive with all the latest everything in the way of fishing gear, clothing and accessories. Doc’s bags were extremely light. Armed with more camera gear than anything else he fished only with his new bought rod & reel. Shirtless, barefoot, and a Indonesian rice picking hat. The first few days Doc didn’t fish hard, instead relaxing, enjoying and photographing the wild and remote jungle. When he did fish he was coming up empty. I was a bit frustrated more than Doc after the 3rd day passed. Still, my friend and client hadn’t landed a much sought after Ulua. Being a fishing and adventure guide does have its drawbacks, especially when it involves friends that are coming up empty handed.
This particular day, my partner Cyrus made his way back to our base camp at the crack of dawn to meet up with our next arriving guest. Mid morning Doc and I made our way thru the jungle to one of our high tide fishing spots for the first session of the day. Here’s how it all unfolded: The swell was a bit larger and the onshore was up early making the water surface perfect and really looking fishy. The tide had just maxed and the outward rip was beginning to freight train out to sea. Everything looked right. Normally the first cast or so is greeted by a hookup. Not on this day. Doc had been throwing for nearly an hour and I had joined in after giving him the run of the spot for sometime. I was beginning to doubt my normally super consistent spot and was becoming frustrated. My guest was on his forth day and the usual smaller fish hookups that keep you going were not around. To make things more difficult the shore break was now coughing up some serious coral heads and other misc. pieces of reef. Our shins were now becoming the receiver of these unwanted gifts. Not watching where the bits are rolling in the sand can end your day on a sour note. I knew Doc was feeling the need get something under his belt. I was hoping it wouldn’t have taken this long.
As I was retrieving my surface popper, a large flash of silver and a huge boil behind my popper had my senses needling for the strike that never came. I could see it was something really big and somehow managed to stop myself from throwing again. As I turned my head toward the point I saw Doc walking away towards the shade trees high on the berm of the beach. I called out to him, and ran over. I quickly cut off my homemade popper and tied it on his line. He was looking at me strange as he could see something was going on. I told him what had just happened and guided him over to the spot where I was throwing. I just pointed and said go! go!. I watched his 1st throw with all expectations, but nothing. I then mumbled some words of frustration under my breath as I turned and walked away. About ten steps later I heard Doc calmly say “Hey Mike “ I looked over my shoulder and saw Doc’s rod buckled at 45 degrees .I mean that rod was seriously bent. Yes!! Yes!! I yelled out as I ran over towards him. The reel was screaming off line and I quickly put a slight turn on his drag knowing it was a smaller reel of choice. The fish was heading straight out. The look on Doc’s face was priceless. He was grinning, but had the sheer look of determination on his face. I was just hoping we could keep this beast on for as long as possible. I made him walk backwards up the slope of the beach to keep the line at the best possible angle with the reef and coral heads in mind. Doc’s feet were dug into the soft sand and he was holding on with the rod wedged into his groin. The fish wasn’t slowing up and Doc said “What do I do?? “ How do you answer that?? Nothing… Just hang on… I was watching what line was left on the spool as the braid whistled thru the guides; my heart was up in my mouth. Doc’s line was new, 30lb.fireline, I had put it on myself days prior with about 10 wraps of mono at the bottom. I usually over fill everything I put on, but the little extra wasn’t really going to matter much at this point. Three quarters gone now. The initial run had now turned into run, pause, run, pause. I was surprised to see this small rod still in one piece. It was frightfully strained to the max. The fish hadn’t really gone in any other direction other than straight out, so there was no way to run down the beach to get some much needed line back. I hated to think it, but Doc was severely under gunned. This fish was about to blow smoke in his face!!. Hope was fading as all the line was now nearly gone. I could see the mono thru what was left of the dark fireline. I thought about having him move back toward the water to get another 30 meters back. Docs feet were set in, He looked at me and said “now what?“ Without a word spoken I reached over and clocked the drag on his reel .The mono was heading up thru the 2nd guide and I could see the gold shining on the spool. “That’s it Doc, that’s all we can do” For the next 5 minutes which seemed like a hour he was just holding off the inevitable. Something surely was about to give. For the first time since the fish was on Doc tried a wind on the reel. The rod looked as though it was about to snap and he paused. I said to Doc to move towards the water in hopes of at least getting a few wraps back and the mono back around the spool. He just shook his head no. Another 5 minutes passed before Doc wound as he lowered the tip . He actually got the mono back up thru the guides and it seemed the fish had been turned. The next 15 minutes was basically a tug of war. Drag clocked, Doc was appearing to be getting somewhere. The fish then headed well to the left towards the main rip current that goes out to sea. I felt the only hope of getting back some of the line was to wind and run down the beach as I have done so many times before in similar circumstances. I yelled at Doc to make a move, but he wasn’t going anywhere .His feet were dug into the sand. All he would say is “I’m not moving!!” Fair enough I thought to myself; let the cards play themselves out. To my surprise the fish now made a move back towards the center of the arena, even going further right than where it began. The coral across this part of the reef is jagged and much shallower than where this fish was coming from. I held my breath. Doc was making some gains now getting back line and I was really amazed this thing was still on the end of the line.Then another short run and we were nearly back spooled again. Firstly, I thought the drag was clocked to the max. We both looked at each other in disbelief at what was going on. I think in all my experiences as a guide I have never been so pumped up watching someone else fight a fish. This was a real heavyweight battle taking place. As Doc slowly made gains once again the fish appeared to be tiring. I tried to keep myself from over coaching. Doc wasn’t paying much attention to me at this point, he was in his own deep concentration. Sweat pouring down his face, shaking one arm then the other. I know I was pacing the sand and trying to catch the first glimpse of this thing .For the first time I began to realize there was a real chance of landing this fish. I then convinced Doc to slowly move forward towards the water. The fish wasn’t showing itself as most big Uluas stay deep as long as possible .From the shoreline here there is a sand patch that goes out about 20 yards before the reef starts.The fish would have been just outside the sand when I spotted the fins. It was a huge bad boy !! .There it is ! There it is ! I yelled to Doc... but wait……. His line was 10 feet to the left ?? What’s going on here ?? Then I realized there was another Ulua along side Docs fish.. As it came up to the surface I was in awe of what I was witnessing. Two huge Uluas side by side. I’ve seen it before in the past, bringing in one and its mate right along side, but not two of this size. Docs face was grimacing from the battle that was now closing in on 45 minutes. The mighty Ulua was still not ready to succumb to the beach. For minutes it moved slowly up and down the sandy part of the drop off, its mate still sticking close to its side. Doc and I could now see the lure half way down its throat, the chance of it being thrown at this point, slim. Doc now moved closer as I prepared to enter the water. Gaff in hand I stepped forward. At the instant my foot touched the water the trailing fish sensed it. With lightning speed and a thrash it was gone. The Ulua now left on its own was gaffed without incident. When I dragged it out of the water the overall size became evident. I was overwhelmed to say the least. I knew without question this was the largest fish ever landed to date at our camp. We were both hooting & high five’n carrying on like crazy men in the middle of nowhere. I hugged my old friend and told him how proud I was of him, and indeed I was !! I’ll be the first to admit I nearly had tears in my eyes at the end of the battle. Here’s a guy that never gave up day after day and certainly was rewarded by his sheer determination. As we walked back towards our campsite Doc raised both his arms and said “I am the champion “I can only agree. Being a fishing and adventure guide I must say can be challenging at times, especially when things don’t always go as expected. Then again times like this are extremely rewarding and the personal satisfaction gained priceless.
Michael Owen
Jungle Ulua Adventures
|
