There I was, minding my own business; listening to the music from the Dock House, reveling in the cooling breeze off of Taylor Creek.

I'd just taken a sunset stroll along the docks, shooting every possible angle of sport fishing boats juxtaposed with sparkling water and sunlight.

A chance meeting developed into an interesting conversation, and before I knew it, an invitation manifested. After weeks of yearning to throw a line in the water, the opportunity arrived, and it was just too tempting to pass up.

You know, my Dad always said, "If you're going to do something, give it your absolute best effort. Don't even bother if you're going to leave it 'half-assed.'" I think he'd be proud right now, because I'm not going fishing half-assed off the dock. I'm going out with the cream of the crop of fishermen on the fastest vessel in the harbor.

Yep, I'm going fishing with the "Jersey Boys" aboard Singularis in the 51st Annual Big Rock Tournament!

I'd just returned to Beaufort from the weigh in at the Morehead City waterfront. A bit wet behind the ears in the tournament world, I stuck like glue to the media area of the weigh in, gleaning information from the more experienced media veterans. As the boats backed into the station, I fired multiple frames of fish and grins at the weigh in. Although the scales were massive hanging over the dock, it was difficult to imagine how a 500 lb fish could be strung up and secured there.

It wasn't long before I'd find out. The first fish of the afternoon was brought in by the Que Mas. As each fish hangs by the tail beside the proud angler that caught it, careful records are made. The species of fish, weight, the names of the boat, angler, captain and the date are written on a sandwich board and placed beside the angler and photographed for posterity. After weighing in, the length and breadth are also measured and written in the official tournament records. Then the fish is handed off to the research crew, who take a few moments to carve a small sample of it for science.

In this arena, a bloody fish may look less than appetizing, but it brings a boatload of prize money. Biggest fish = Largest prize, so the heavier the better. This is serious business, with a lot of cash at stake. The purse is huge and the stakes are high. To enter the "Big Rock", anglers sink a $17,000 chunk of change, not including fuel, bait and provisions for the week and travel expenses. Many anglers tour the competitive circuit, vying for prize money and the ultimate catch: A Blue Marlin. Not just any Blue Marlin. They are after beautiful female weighing in at 500lbs….or more.


Day 1 on Singularis

My first day on Singularis begins on arrival at the dock promptly at 5:15am Tuesday morning. I can’t remember when I’ve been up that early on purpose, but have no trouble getting vertical in a flash today.

The crew welcomes me aboard as the sun rises over Beaufort docks. Singularis Owner Jeff Citron is at the helm of the cappuccino machine, cranking out a special blend of ultra high test latte topped with a cloud of froth and a spiral swirl of cinnamon. Mugs are handed out to the crew as they prep for the day, each one with a specific task to accomplish before we cast off.

Some are moving the inventory of fishing poles down from the bridge to the hotseat, others are readying the outrigger lures. Everyone is gearing up mentally for a day of serious fishing and even more fun, some serious catching.

As the sun crowns the horizon, the massive engines rumble to life. We pull out of the slip, bow pointing toward the channel. Today we head for the East side of the Gulf Stream, where a few degrees of difference in water temperature could bring us to the front door of a prize winning fish.

As we head out to sea, Singularis Captain Jerry Lanzerotti and owner Jeff Citron are on the bridge talking strategy. The music is pumping, a special soundtrack of pop and rap, guaranteed to get one the adrenaline flowing regardless of the lyrics. It takes talent to steer a hurtling water rocket and boogie down, but Jerry appears to be pretty good at it.

I’m hanging out up there with them, keeping my ears open for interesting bits of conversation and watching the water roil in our wake. Captain Jerry is kind enough to let me know what the rules are, so I won't get in the way or get hurt when the action starts. He simultaneously points out interesting stuff as we pass. Flying fish skip out of the water above the bow wave. A rainbow glimmers faintly in the distance to starboard as we clip along at 30 knots. The other boats become reduced to tiny white specks on the horizon as Singularis surges forward, spanking out giant waves with her tremendous bow.

Soon we are alone on the open water. The other boats have veered off toward the area known as the “Big Rock” an undersea mountain where the White and Blue Marlins are known to hang out. For a girl with blue water experiences limited to sailing at a top speed of 8 knots, it seems as if we are hurling forth at just under warp 5.

I’m doing my best acting job trying to look cool. In truth, I am holding on for dear life, balancing my mug of latte with the temptation to photograph everything in sight and still stay firmly planted in the seat. It’s challenging to stay balanced and shoot crisp pictures, but eventually I am able to get groovy with the movements of the boat as we hurdle toward our destination. It's more of an effort to get good shots as the boat bounces along, so I am really thankful for the blessing of digital photography and on the spot edits.

Along the way, we pass under several bands of ominous dark clouds. The sun plays hide and seek behind them, occasionally illuminating the ocean with shimmering mercury light. Cloud angels fly overhead, changing shape as we speed underneath. We are heading 70 miles offshore today so even with a 60' of Hatteras and its raging herd of horsepower, it still takes a couple of hours to get there. As the boat flies, the crew gets busy on the deck sewing mackerel into sparkly bait skirts. Made to look like flying fish, they catch the light as they rest on the stern.

Mackerel are the primary bait. First Mate Jay Richardella stitches a bait skirt on, and puts a cap on the head to conceal the hook.

Finally we arrive at our destination, 30 minutes before the official start of the competition. After 2+ hours, I’m feeling a bit like my body got stuck on an all night rollercoaster. Everyone else, however, springs into gear. The shift change begins with Captain Jerry climbing up to 'the tower' as Jeff takes the helm. Everyone onboard pauses to put sunscreen on, not necessarily rubbing it all in. Nobody cares about the ‘clown face’ effect because the sun is so intense out here.

Jay heads for the galley to fix everyone a Jersey sandwich stuffed with cheese and one of every kind of sliced deli meat in the fridge. These guys are fast talkers, so when my slow mosey Georgia Peach ears finally comprehend what he's offering, I still need clarification. Jay just shrugs and says, "It's a Jersey thing." I'm about to gnaw my own hand off after being awake and jacked on high test, so it's good to have the option for this instead. After all, it is highly recommended that photojournalists on boats keep one hand free for boat, and one for the camera.

Promptly at 9 am, the call comes over the VHF from Big Rock headquarters, “Lines In, Lines In.”

Immediately, the outriggers baited with surreal looking squid and flying fish are cranked out sideways into position over the water. Let the games begin!


Captain Jerry spots a piece of wood floating on the water. It's a piece of a cargo crate. The water splashes through holes in it, and from here it looks as if bait fish are interested. That means something larger is probably swimming below. We do laps around the board, our wake cutting a wide serpentine path that intersects with the current. Jerry makes long ovals in the water back and forth, always keeping an eye out for the board as it makes its way down the stream.

Captain Jerry shares tower duty with Chris Sevasteakis. Chris is "the spotter", the one who tells the boys on deck if their baits need a reboot. He also has the advantage of seeing very large fish swimming nearby from this vantage point. Just the other day he spotted a hammerhead shark, so an extra pair of eyes from up high is a valuable thing.

Jerry and Chris are good friends, having spent a lot of time in the tower talking abouta variety of innocuous things to keep busy while they keep watch. I can't help but think how very much like two little boys in a treehouse they appear to be. The only crewmember on the vessel with a day gig, Chris is also a captain. He serves at the helm of a hydrographic vessel that travels far and wide to make maps of the bottom of the ocean. Chris is also a trained chef, so he makes sure the crew are fed while we are trolling. Nobody goes hungry on this vessel on his watch!

I’m on the bridge, riding shotgun with Jeff. From up here, the view is fabulous. 360 of blue water, white foam, birds and clouds. Jeff goes between watching the water and the fish radar as he leans against the chair. I ask him what I can do to help. He gives me the task of keeping an eye out for birds, for they are indicative of fish below.

The food chain is rather simple out here: Where there are birds there are little fish, and where there are little fish there are BIG fish. Lines click-clack and spin out as the crew takes turns bringing them in, checking the status of the bait, and sending them back out. The teaser baits bounce along behind us, plowing their own wake into the blue.

After a while, the combination of watching deep marine blue transform into frothy white foam and the gentle rocking of the boat at a trolling speed of 8 knots is so relaxing it lulls me to sleep. The radio squawks loudly and I almost jump out of my chair, so I give in and head inside for a power nap on the leather sofa. While I’m zoned out, the boys end up having exciting 10 minutes landing a mahi. I hated to have missed it, but took it as an indication that there would be more where these came from. I’ve got a feeling that our big mamma fish is swimming close by. The possiblilty that we could be the boat to land her is better than any gambler's high. In other words, I’m starting to exhibit symptoms of what the boys call, "Marlin fever."

Before I know it, we hear, “Lines Out, Lines Out!” squawking over the VHF. As riggers are returned to their places, the baits are removed and parked back in the cooler. We haul ass, racing back to Morehead City, like every horse in the herd galloping toward the barn.

The crew is discouraged that nothing really happened other than the mahi. Fresh from their last tournament in the Bahamas with 8 hours of fishing for 6 days straight without a hook up, these guys want a blue marlin so bad they can taste it. Perhaps I can bring them some luck. During the long ride back, the salon is filled with crew, catching catnaps and a break from the sun. A long line of fast boats closes in behind us as I figure out how to ask for another shot at seeing a blue marlin being caught. I want it bad enough to taste it too.

When we return to Beaufort Docks, the boat is thoroughly hosed down and wiped dry. Sad to not have seen 'the moment' I make my request for a repeat day of fishing to the Captain and the Boss and hope for the best. Like any hunters at day's end, the Jersey Boys have their post fishing rituals to uphold. They stick together, discussing strategy over grog and grub, and later walk the docks to talk shop with other crews of the vessels they know.

Tomorrow is another day. There will be more opportunities to land THE winning fish. I learned within hours that everyone was groovy with my being aboard, and that I was more than welcome to return the next day.

Marlin fishing is both exhilerating and exhausting, so it's time for some dinner and a beverage before crashing for the night. I will be back in the morning for another round. Somehow I know that tomorrow is indeed our day.

If a “A bad day of fishing is better than a
good day at work," let's go fishing!

DAY #2, Wednesday June 9

“There will be days when the fishing is better than one’s most optimistic forecast, others when it is far worse. Either is a gain over just staying home.” Roderick Haig-Brown




Leaving Beaufort Docks at Dawn


Today begins hot and steamy. Cotton candy clouds cover the horizon as the sun reaches golden fingers of light toward the water. After hearing that the infamous High Test latte may be lacking today without provisioning first, I brought along a ½ gallon of milk to the party. The gesture was appreciated by no one more than moi, for now with my mug of Singularis high test latte in hand, I’m bridge sitting as we are hauling ass out to the “Big Rock.” A sundog hovers over one that appears to be a screaming eagle on the attack. I am reminded of the hunt, when the entire tribe is focused on one thing. A sundog is an indication of windy weather on the way, something I wonder about as we zing along the eagle in the clouds is a blessing on our hunt.

Captain Jerry explains today’s plan to work a triangular pattern over the South side of the Rock to tempt Miss Blue Marlin from her watery abode. We are in the water with at least 30 other boats that are visible, each heading for the same neighborhood. This is where the majority of the 17 blue marlins, 16 white marlins and 5 sailfish were hooked and released yesterday. Getting out there is a breeze compared to the day before because it only takes about an hour. Along the way we pass a lot of boat traffic, including 4 container ships. It must be an interesting sight to see 30 boats hurtling toward you like a swarm of bees and veering around at the last minute. Talk about an adrenaline rush.


Captain Jerry and “The Boss” Jeff Citron

Anticipation builds as we move along. The crew are more than ready for action, and today we just might get it. At 9:06 am, an excited voice calls over the VHF, “Big Rock Headquarters, this is Frequent Flyer. We have a “Blue Marlin, Hooked Up!”

Game on!


First Mate Jay is serious about
fishing for the blues.

During the next hour, 5 blue and 2 white marlins are hooked and released. Things are happening fast, excited shouts come every few minutes for fish hooked and released. Our crew is waiting with baited breath as they watch the lines tug through the waves. We troll through the water, riggers out, cutting an S curve back and forth to attract Ms. Marlin’s elusive attention. She is apparently a coy one.

The baits zip and sing as hands reel in and rebait hooks. We are fishing for mamma marlin with foot long Spanish mackerel stitched carefully into fish skirts. Patches of sea grass float by as we watch to see if they entangle the bait. I’m back on the bridge with the Boss, watching for bird life that might mean a school of bait sized fish is close. The radio squawks again – one of the boats in today’s competition has a bent outrigger. This can’t be good at any time, especially in the first hour. On our port side, green squid bounce on the surface of the water. They don’t seem to be as attractive as the blue sparkly flying fish, at least not to me. I go for the sparkle every time. We have 7 poles rigged up and working in the water.

At 10:33 Artemis broadcasts a white marlin hookup. At 10:40 it’s finally our turn.


Jay watches the lines, ready for a bite. Nick Lucov preps a hook with a marker to prevent it from rusting

“RIGHT TEASER! RIGHT TEASER!” shouts Jay as the lines go taut. In seconds, crew are reeling the line in, bait absent from the hook. Although disappointing, this too is a good sign. The excitement builds, because this means we are in the right neighborhood. The hook is re-baited and sent back out to troll. At 10:51, the wind has picked up noticeably. Several sizes of flying fish pop out of the waves beside us, skimming over the sea with iridescent wings. As quickly as they arrive, they disappear back into the blue 20 feet from the point they jumped out. What fun that must be.


At 1:30 pm, the drill repeats. “RIGHT TEASER! RIGHT TEASER!” this time, the fish stays on the hook. With lightning reflexes, the crew morph into high gear. This is the real deal, and I’m doing my best to stay out of the way and shoot photos to capture the moment. The teasers are reeled in as Jeff slams into the chair and is strapped in. A massive ‘hook’ materializes from a compartment under the deck, ready to spear a fish with a nasty temper if need be.


The Boss gets into the chair for the fight. Nick Lucov readys the giant hook

The tension is palpable as the fish is reeled closer and closer. The engine groans as the fish pulls against the boat, forcing us to go in reverse to keep up. Water roils over the stern as the engine is put through the incredible strain. Everyone on board is a team, doing something toward getting the fish in the boat. This is what they are here for. There is no barking orders, or even time to hesitate for that matter. When the dark blue tail of a blue marlin pops out of the water, the excitement ramps up to the 10th power.

Yee Ha! The Jersey Boys of Singularis have snagged one! Now the fight is on. Jeff steadily reels in the line so as not to lose the fish. The team follows the fish to starboard side, then to port as he tries to wriggle free from the hook.


Jay yells orders up to Jerry in the tower Marlin’s fin pops out of the water



Bubbles churn the water at the stern as engine and crew move into position.
.




Marlin to our port side


Got him!




Jay calls me over to take a shot of the blue


Tiggs holds his bill steady against the boat

Jay gives a thumbs up as Tiggs holds the fish steady. We got one!



This is why we are here. Look at the grin on Jeff’s face!

We have an hour to go to fish today and still hunting Mama Blue. We just met her boyfriend, so she’s sure to be close. Our fish is too small to keep, not heavy enough to be a winner, unfortunately. He’s a male, and is typically smaller than the huge 500+lb females we are after. That’s ok, because now the entire boat is stoked on adrenaline. We are all in way better spirits now.

With 15 minutes to go in the fishing day, we hear over the radio that 1 blue marlin was boated on another vessel. In the time remaining, 8 more blues and 3 whites and a sailfish are hooked and released. The radio squawks and squeaks as each boat calls in their hook ups. One vessel boats a blue and heads for the weigh station at the Morehead dock. Everyone wonders about how large the fish will be, but doesn’t say much. We all hope it’s not THE big one.

“Lines in! Lines in!” The 3:00 time line is announced. The crew go about tidying up for the rocket ride back to the dock. We were West of the Big Rock when the fish hit, so Captain Jerry makes a note of our position for future reference. The cooler in front of the cabin door is opened and beverages are passed to all empty hands. Toasts go around to fantastic example of seamless teamwork on Singularis. Way to go fellas, now we celebrate and talk about it for the return trip.

Now I know what they mean by the term, “Marlin Junkie.” It’s very appropriate. The thrill of the catch is exhilarating, as is the way everyone works together seamlessly.

“Fishing tournaments are like
playing tennis with living balls.”

Jim Harrison


DAY 3, THURSDAY, June 11

Permission to be aboard was once more graciously granted again to ride aboard Singularis for one more day. I am thrilled, for now it seems like I’ve been doing this for years. I’m so psyched up after yesterday that I’m ready to sign up as the boat’s photojournalist and jump on board any time they go to a tournament, no matter where it is.

There are 92 boats in the water today. Some have taken a day off to rest. Out of 6 days to fish the maximum amount of days for the tournament is 4. The crew wants to keep going rather than take a day off, so out we race from Beaufort Inlet to the channel, heading for the South side of the Big Rock. Before long, Captain Jerry spots a school of bait sized fish on the fishfinder indicating that they are hanging out in 600 ft of ocean. Marlin follow the Gulf Stream but prefer sticking to the cooler side of it, waters, so the deeper the bait the more likely there will be one there. Now all we have to do is get Mama to play, coax her to the surface with our mackerel in their blue shimmer skirts. The neighborhood is right for finding a prizewinning Blue.


At 10:20 am, we were cruising along at 7.8 knots, riggers out. Cumulous clouds built up and reformed themselves in the sky. The weather may not be too good later, so when Jay spots a fish hit the squid we are all relieved. “LEFT TEASER, LEFT TEASER!!” This time, the lines were hit by two fish instead of one. The adrenaline is rushing through us all as the boat groans to drift back and go in reverse. Everyone gets into place in a nanosecond, energized by the thrill of the catch. Giant waves of water splash dangerously over the stern as the fish puts up one heck of a fight. There is no way in his mind that he’s getting near our boat. I don’t blame him, but hope he gets closer and jumps out of the water. Suddenly it happens. The fish hurls itself out of the water 20 feet from the stern, then again to starboard, with one powerful thrust of its body. Bill slashing the air, he looks ready to take us all out in one movement. He’s a feisty one!
Fin in the water Jay reels it in as Jeff looks on.

This fish is furiously fighting for all he’s worth to get off the hook that is making itself home in his jaw. He’s only on for a few minutes, and then he disappears as suddenly as he arrived. What a great thing to see the raw power, beauty and pure strength in such a majestic being of the sea.

At 10:50, a mahi jumps onto a the line. Shimmering in bright green and fighting with all its worth he is heaved up on deck without nearly as much effort as the previous two fish demanded. Its relatively fast work to get a hold of him and flip him into the cooler under the deck.

The mahi nears the surface , doing his best to avoid the boat but eventually he lands in the cooler.

After the adrenaline rush of the morning, the rest of the day was calm. We watched other boats in our area catch and release just after going over that same area ourselves. The because the boated marlin count is so low this year, Big Rock’s judges have opened up the event for those who have fished 4 days to renter. So Captain and crew have a pow wow and decide to return.

The weather for tomorrow is going to be windy and rough at sea, so this will be have to be my last day aboard. I’m a combination of exhilaration and sadness that the moment is over and real life must be attended to. But I’ll be listening to the radio via the Big Rock website internet all day, and occasionally will cook a little piece of heaven, fresh from the sea. Hoping like heck to hear “Singularis, hooked up!” Or “Singularis boated a blue!”

Thanks to everyone aboard Singularis, I’m inspired by this new experience that was worth the effort. After witnessing the beauty of the sea and the seamless teamwork that each member of the crew locked into, I have an appreciation for the way things are done here. Most importantly, more than ever I know that the oceans teem with abundance, beauty, power and strength. My place will always be near the sea.

Singularis Crew
Owner: Jeff Citron
Captain: Jerry Lanzerotti
First Mate: Jay Richardella
Crew: Jeff “Tiggs” Stolars, Chris Sevastakis and Nick Lucov

“Let your hook be always cast, for in the pool where you least expect it, there will be a fish!”