Stories Shared by our Alumni

Don Short Catches a Hammerhead

(Click photos to enlarge Sorry photos lost Dwight)

(Note:  During my stay in Bermuda, I spent numerous times fishing with commercial fisherman, Bob Battersbee.  For me, the following short story is just one of many great fishing adventures.)

Bob’s Hammerhead

It was just Bob and I on the open sea, during a pleasant fall evening when the drama unfolded.  The year was 1961.  I was 16 years old and had been fishing with Bob Battersbee since the spring of 1960.  I believe it was a Saturday that Bob and I departed early from the Grace Church shoreline, Pembroke East.  We were ready to catch some fish.  Bob had a small boat, a 14 footer, with a 25 horsepower motor.  We may or may not have checked the fish pots.  I don’t remember exactly.  I do remember it was a nice calm day for fishing and we hopped from reef to reef looking for fish.  Sadly enough, it was one of those days the fish decided not to bite.  The weather was prefect.  The water was very calm and you could see the ocean floor.  That’s an awesome site, especially at 18-20 fathoms.  I believe we were fishing in about 6 fathoms of water (30-40 feet) in an area called Baileys Bay Flats, between the north and south shipping channels. 

When the fishing was slow, it gave Bob and me a chance to talk a little.  Bob was a world traveler and had some interesting stories.  He was a Christian, but never pushed religion on anyone.  On this particular day, fishing was very slow, so after eating lunch, we pulled anchor and looked for another fishing spot.  As the noon hour passed to the late afternoon, we had moved several times and caught no more than 5-10 fish.  Bob was in the business of catching fish, and no fish means no money.  The late afternoon was quickly becoming early evening as the sun was sinking towards the horizon.  We stopped at this one spot and Bob asked me if my parents would object to me being on the open waters at night.  Bob had suggested that we may have some luck after the sun goes down.  I said I don’t think my parents would mine.  We settled in for the anticipation of catching fish.  It was a beautiful sight to see the sun slowly sink into the ocean.  Bob begin to chum up the area with bait (mixed fry and sand).  This bought up the gar-fish or Balao, so Bob decided to try and catch one for live bait on a heavy rope line.  He caught one and baited the heavy line.  It was still twilight, but getting darker.  You started to see lights from the island.  It was quiet, nothing was biting.  I remember how the sea became mysteriously quiet and there was no sound except for us talking and moving around in the boat.  Periodically, flying fish broke the silence as they flew near the boat.  Bob mentioned that this was going to be an unproductive fishing day and we should probably prepare to head in.  

As it was getting darker on the water, we both had just about agreed that it is time to go home.  For me, it was getting a bit scary as it was getting harder to see.  I believe Bob said to start pulling in my lines in preparation for heading in.  (I remember on most fishing trips the line with live bait would be the last to be pulled in).  Bob was putting away his rod and reel, when suddenly a quick ripping sound came from the heavy rope line.  Bob immediately jumped to his feet, dropped everything and grabbed the line as it was being pulled out of the boat.   A few seconds pasted and Bob said, “I’ve got something.”  Before he could finish his statement, the rope line snapped to attention and was being pulled out of Bob’s hands with authority.  Bob allowed some slack, played the line and then pulled hard to securely sink the hook.  Whatever was hooked got real mad because it was pulling the rope line like dropping anchor.  It was smokin’.  The fight was on!  Bob tried to hold the line but it kept going out.  He yelled to me, “this is a big one; get all the other lines in, quickly.”  All of a sudden there was a lot of activity in the boat.  I was working as fast as I could to get all the other fishing lines in the boat, because whatever it was at the other end of that rope line, it was very angry, circling the boat and determine to get as far as possible from us.  Bob would periodically pull back the rope line to slow down the big fish.  The fish was going all over the place, north, south, east and west, causing Bob to go back and forth from the stern to the bow.  I could see Bob had a fight on his hands and it was getting darker and darker.  The thought hit me that maybe fighting a big fish in the dark while on the high seas is not a good idea.  I don’t remember if there was a flashlight in the boat.

I finally secured all the other fishing lines and watched Bob battle the big fish.  Was it a giant Rockfish, Amberjack or Barracuda?  I thought to myself.  Because of the dead weight on the line, Bob thought it was a shark.  After a while Bob was winning the battle as the fish took less line and seemed to be tiring.  As Bob was pulling in line, I was helping to keep it from tangling.  Then the moment came, the fish or shark was close enough to the boat to ID it.  Bob saw it first as it surfaced and then I saw the dorsal fin and it was confirmed that we had a shark.  As it was being pulled closer to the boat it got bigger and bigger.  You could barely see it clearly in the water because of the darkness.  Then Bob said it, “It’s a Hammerhead Shark.”  Wow!! (According to a pamphlet titled – “A Guide to the Reef, Shore and Game Fish of Bermuda,” dated 1965, by Louis S. Mowbray, “the Hammerhead shark reaches a length of 14 feet, considered dangerous and is not  common in Bermuda.”)  Then suddenly, with regained strength, the Hammerhead was on the run again, heading away from the boat.  Bob managed to turn the shark and started pulling it back towards us.  The shark was exhausted and Bob was too.  Bob managed to pull it next to the boat for the first hit.  Bob hit the shark on the head with a sawed-off baseball bat.  All hell broke loose.  The splashes from the shark soaked both of us.  The shark headed for the sea floor.  This happened several times but each time the shark was weakening.  We were very wet.  Bob had hit the shark several times with the bat, stabbed it two or three times and then applied the fatal blow with the hatchet.  The shark was finally dead.  Bob thought it was at least ten feet long.  To me it was as big as the boat. 

I saw Bob surveying the situation and the question was how we are going to get this big thing to shore.  The fight took a good twenty minutes.  By this time it was really dark.  We had a very big shark and had to get it home.  Bob started the motor and it idled for a while.  Bob said, “we have to try to get most of the shark in the boat.”  We rocked the boat to one side and inch by inch pulled most of the shark in the boat, head first.  Some of the ocean got in the boat too.  The craft was leaning to one side as we pulled anchor and slowly headed home.  I was real happy that we were heading for dry land.  The bright lights from the island were a welcoming sight.

In conclusion, it took about 20-30 minutes to get to the shore.  As we approached our docking area behind Grace Church, we could see flashlights and a small crowd of people waiting for us.  We finally docked by the rocks and when the people saw the Hammerhead they couldn’t believe it.  One person said they were about to notify the Coast Guard because we had not returned and it was dark.  Several men helped remove the shark out of the boat and hoist it up for display.  In the darkness, Bob and I cleaned what little fish we had and either sold them or took them home.  We cleaned up the boat and area as most folks were viewing the shark in astonishment.  Eventually everyone left the area.  The next morning, Sunday, everyone returned to see the Hammerhead in the daylight.  Some folks took pictures.  The shark hung on display for two days. 

Today, I think back to that day, some 48 years ago, and can vividly remember Bob fighting that giant fish in the dark.  I can still feel the splashes from the shark as it fought to escape.  I remember the excitement of the moment and not necessarily feeling real fear that maybe we had something more than we could handle.  Now, I feel a slight weakness in the knees when thinking about this adventure, and some others.  Bob was a real professional and he handled that Hammerhead like a champ.

Don Short

Class of 1962  

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