A Day that was Something Special

Where were you thirty-three years ago on July 26?

Well, if you were getting married you had better remember, if you had been part of a “Perfect Storm,” you would never forget and if you had hit the home run that won your little league game you would relive the moment forever. However, if you are like most people, the day becomes just a day in your life’s history unless something special happened. This is a tale of something special.

This is a story that has spanned over three decades. A day that started as all other summer days for Rob Lindholm and his best friend and fishing partner John Twitchell. They launched John’s boat at 4:00 a.m. and headed outside the harbor to catch some mackerel for bait.

After catching what they thought would be enough live bait for the day they headed up to Little Bay to try their luck for stripers.

After reaching their “secret spot”, Rob picked up his Ugly Stick rod with a Daiwa reel attached which he had strung with 40 pound Stren fishing line and a Eagle Claw number 4 hook. He tied on a live mackerel and began to fish.

The day was warm and humid with a slight breeze so the guys looked forward to the day with high hopes.

Those hopes began to fade as the day progressed without any fish. The tide was just about slack and nothing was biting as Rob sat quietly eating a sandwich, sipping a cold drink and enjoying the day with John. They joked that catching nothing was better than not being able to fish, Then something happened.

For those of you that remember the movie Jaws, there is a scene where Quint is sitting on deck in the fighting chair when he hears that familiar click of the reel. He turns to look at the rod and the reel clicks again. This is similar to what happened to Rob as he relaxed and ate lunch. All of a sudden that familiar click of the reel as something is playing with the bait. Then all hell broke loose as the reel began to sing and the drag announced the presence of a hefty fish tearing line from the reel.

Rob grabbed his pole and said to John, “This is a nice fish.” An understatement soon to be realized. After what seemed like an eternity, Rob set the hook, confidant that the freight train on the other end of the line had devoured the bait. With a hefty grunt, Rob now knew that this was no ordinary fish that was trying to tear the rod from his hands. This fish could do anything it wanted to and Rob could only hope that the line didn’t fray or the hook didn’t straighten out.

Basically all you can do in a situation like this is to “hang on” and hope that the fish tires out before you do. The one sound you don’t want to hear is the “pop” of the line breaking. If it has happened to you than you know what I mean, It sounds like a gun going off.

None of this happened on this fateful day and after a battle of 45 minutes, Rob cautiously maneuvered the heavyweight to the boat where he and John finally brought the striper to the deck.
That fish weighed 60-pounds and still stands as the record striper caught in New Hampshire, a record that endured the last thirty-three years.
But that isn’t the end of the story.

Later that same day these two striper addicts landed a “small” 51-pounder just for bragging rights. Which makes me ask the question, “has any boat or fisherman ever weighed in two stripers on the same day that weighed more than 100 pounds? I think that is a record that may never be beaten.

Congratulations to Rob and John for sharing this spectacular catch with me.

No one has ever come close to duplicating — let alone beating — the total weight that the two friends brought to their boat on that day, I don’t think anyone ever will.