For God's Sake Smile

For God's Sake Smile John Anderson

With the boat show almost upon us, it was decided that each member of staff would have a poster of them with one of their better fish made up.

I duly went home and gathered together all my photos but it was quickly apparent that none of mine were suitable poster material; either they were blurry ‘throw away underwater camera’ type shots with a thumb or edge of finger occupying one or other corner or showed me, in a bout of toughness, displaying my ‘I’m staunch bro, could knock out Jake the Muss” hard man look. Unfortunately, while at the time I always think this will give me an aura of unmatched machismo, invariably, I just end up looking like a clown.

Our creative man, Aaron,  had a simple solution; I would suit up and then, as I smiled away merrily, he would take a photo in which I would hold out my hands pretending to cradle a large fish of species X and later he would digitally impose one and voile, John with 12kg snapper, 35 kg kingfish, 18kg john dory, all of the above.

I, of course, was horrified! If anyone ever found out (which they would-‘cause I’d tell them and besides, a disclaimer would be attached to the bottom of the poster explaining that , due to my being completely incompetent, it was necessary to fake it), I’d be finished- a laughing stock and object of ridicule for the rest of my natural life and beyond.

I put my foot down and the great poster forgery of 2003 was abandoned.

A week or so later we meet at Darren’s , headed for the Mokohinaus. On the drive up to the Omaha ramp, the topic of photography arose. I start to get nervous as this topic had become a rather sore point between us.

“What gets me” says Darren “ is guys who don’t smile in photos”.

Here we go.

And so on for the remainder of the trip.

From Paul “So, Darren, everyone’s got a poster now?”

“No, not John.”

“Oh, Why not?”

“Well, Tough Boy here…………………”

I briefly entertain the idea of throwing myself from the vehicle.

Then, nightmare of nightmares, with a flourish, Darren produces a small black pouch containing a digital camera , purchased not twenty four hours previously.

“Ohhhhhhhhh” coos Paul (who knows about this sort of thing) and makes reassuring noises regarding it’s quality to Darren, who wouldn’t know his arse from his elbow about anything that requires an electrical current to operate.

Darren, once satisfied that the salesman was telling the truth and that what he had bought was, indeed, a camera, asks Paul “ Would it take photos of a good enough quality for, say, a poster?”

“Absolutely!” is the reply.

I have been set up. Clearly. It is completely unreasonable to expect that I am going to shoot a fish worthy of a poster on any given day but, quite obviously, this is what Darren has planned.

Well son, you’d better get used to disappointment.

We spend the morning trying to shoot big schooling snapper in mid-water but these fellows know the name of our game and stay just out of range. A short snoop proves fruitless and a disapproving look crosses Darren’s face when he retrieves my fishless float line. We search a well known spot for goldies but they are absent today.

Another snoop and again, although I’m being as sneaky as a sea weasel (or, at least, feel I am), no result. Again, Darren shoots a filthy look but remains silent, merely rolling his eyes with that ‘I’m surrounded by incompetence’ look. In fairness to me, no one else is getting anything either.

I get dropped onto a likely looking piece of coast.

“I cleaned up through here last week, so any muppet can get a good snapper along here. Alright?”

“Yes sir”

It goes without saying that I saw nothing.

Back on board the boat it was time for a pep talk

“John, It is now clear to me that you are redefining the limits of uselessness. Do you understand me?”

“Yes sir”

“While normally I would simply kick you in the head a few times and throw you overboard, special circumstances demand that today you shoot a good fish. So, I’m going to show you a Secret Spot. Not any old ‘dime a dozen’ secret spot but a bonafide, can’t miss, extra secret type of spot where you really can’t miss. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir”

“Of course, if you ever divulge the whereabouts of this Most Secret of Spots, I’ll send you to swim with the fishes”

“Yes sir”

And, with that, we went to swim with the fishes.

As soon as we hit the water I made my break. With mainland only 50 kilometres west of us and with a favourable wind, I estimated that I’d make land in 15 hours. Anything to avoid the pressure that I now felt under.

I was just getting into my stride when from just behind me I hear a voice shout “Hey, Noddy, where d’ya think your going?” and turn to see Darren not 5 metres away. Reluctantly I followed, all the fight now gone from me.

Presently we arrive at The Secret Spot and Darren explains the approach.

“See that gap there?”

“Yes sir”

“Good, obviously your complete failure cannot be put down to blindness. Dive down well back from it, creep through it and shoot the big snapper that will be hanging to your left. Do you think you can handle that?”

“Yes sir”

I dive down and, as instructed, sneak quietly through the gap and look left. There is nothing. Below me out of range are two snaps in the two- three kilo range but not the big moochers Darren assured me reside there.

I surface and tell of my findings.

Darren dives and, amazingly, confirms my observations. He is wrong! After all his harping on about what a great spot this is, he is wrong! I resist the temptation to laugh in his face.

A scowl furrows his brow. “Don’t even think about laughing at me you sniveling little prat. Now, dive down, through the gap but this time you’ll have to blow your cover and get your head out further. Then, shoot the fish hanging to your left. Do you think you are capable of that, Noddy?”

“Yes sir”

I dive down, through the gap, blow my cover by sticking my head out further and shoot the big fish hanging approximately four metres to my left. He weighs about 7 kilos.

I am very impressed by this and thank Darren for what must be the most contrived piece of spear fishing preformed in years.

“My pleasure” he replies.

As I retrieve the only mildly struggling fish toward the surface, I hear a strange noise and stick my head out of the water. Darren is shrieking like a girl “Marlin, marlin, marlin” he repeats over and over again but it is gone by the time I gather myself together and start to look. Still, we work the big snapper up and down on the shooting line like a flasher in the vain hope the big game fish would return but he does not.

Soon enough, Darren recovers his composure.

“Right, I’m taking your fish back to the boat. You stay here, wait five minutes, then repeat the operation and shoot the next big snapper”

“Yes sir” I reply, realizing that adrenaline has temporarily addled Darren’s brain. Any fool will tell you you cannot shoot two snapper from the same position on the same day.

Still, with nothing else to do and too afraid to swim back to the boat before time, I hang back and wait.

After a suitable period I replay the whole procedure and , just as was said, another snapper is parked up in the gut. I collected him with a solid gut shot and retreat to let the inhabitants settle down again.

 After what could only have been a minute or so, I noticed someone up the front of the boat retrieving the anchor.

“Oh well” I think to myself, “this last 15 minutes has certainly made my day”. The boat won’t come in this shallow so I head for deeper water, in anticipation of being picked up. To do so, once again I must pass over the gut. Well, it would be rude not to check one last time.

As I poke my head through the gut, I cannot believe what I see. Another big snapper, so close that I don’t even straighten my arm to shoot. The spear hits him behind the ear and he just rolls over. Later he weighs in at 9kg- just shy of 20lb.

Back on the boat, I hardly have time to take off my mask before the little digital camera is ceremoniously unveiled and the boat is driven around until the sun is ‘just right’.

After much debate over which button does what, we are finally ready.

Camera in hand, Darren gives a knowing look “And John” he says “for god’s sake, SMILE.”