struck, it lifted Johnson right out of the chair and he couldn’t hold it. He’d had the butt under one leg and the rod across his lap. If he’d had the harness on it would have taken him along, too.
I cut out the engine and went back to the stern. He was sitting there holding onto his belly where the rod butt had hit him.
“I guess that’s enough for today,” I said.
“What was it?” he said to me.
“Black marlin,” I said.
“How did it happen?”
“You figure it out,” I said. “The reel cost two hundred and fifty dollars. It costs more now. The rod cost me forty-five. There was a little under six hundred yards of thirty-six thread.”
Just then Eddy slaps him on the back. “Mr. Johnson,” he says, “you’re just unlucky. You know I never saw that happen before in my life.”
“Shut up, you rummy,” I said to him.
“I tell you, Mr. Johnson,” Eddy said, “that’s the rarest occurrence I ever saw in my life.”
“What would I do if I was hooked to a fish like that?” Johnson said.
“That’s what you wanted to fight all by yourself,” I told him. I was plenty sore.
“They’re too big,” Johnson said. “Why, it would just be punishment.”
“Listen,” I said. “A fish like that would kill you.” “They catch them.”
