Only in Kona (a fishing tale)

[Bill]

Picture this. There is a tournament, a big fishing tournament. When tournament control calls 'stop fishing' at 4:30 local time, it's game over, since Hawaii is at the end of the world.

Oops! Not quite over.

A friend of mine, the best skipper around since his daddy retired, has a five meter long Blue Marlin on the deck and heads for weigh-in. There are three other five meter Blues and a kicker in the water. It turns out that the fish from Bermuda is smaller, as is one of the other Kona Blues and the third, 300+ kilo was caught by a boat that wasn't in the big tournament and only takes the rather substantial local prize winnings. Good news.

The kicker. Another boat hooked a monster about five minutes before 'stop fishing'. The rules state that they have until midnight to get it weighed in. At 9:00, about four and a half hours into the fight and over an hour away from the scale, they have no choice but to 'take the fight' to the huge adversary. Short story. Fish wins and swims away to 'lick its wounds', leaving my friend, who is waiting impatiently for midnight, holding the bag, the contents of which isn't official as I write this but, it looks like a whisker under a half a million greenbacks.