The Beginning of an Obsession

For roughly two and a half decades, I've played a part in the Texas shark fishing scene. Over the years, I've been blessed with a number of unique catches and awe inspiring achievements, and I've learned the importance of the conservation of the various species we target. All this started with a singular, supremely significant catch.

On the unforgettable trip, I had the insane luck (peppered with moderate technical skill) to land and release a shark which rates as rare and iconic in the Texas surf. Until then, I'd describe myself as a young fishing enthusiast already heavily addicted to sharks and surf fishing. But, because of the catch of this one memorable fish, I immediately earned a positive image within the Texas sharking community. To say the landing of this shark transformed my life would truly be an understatement―I owe my current livelihood and status in the Texas coastal fishing community to the shortfin mako I landed in 2003.

This winter marks the 20th anniversary of this epic catch. Many aspects of our lives have changed over these two decades. Personally, I lacked focus back then, couldn't figure out how I wanted to allocate my time, feeling a conflict between the urge to excel at the college life and the desire to spend all my time fishing. Eventually, my obsession with toothy critters won and became the controlling force in my life.

When I started seriously fishing for sharks, I was a mere pier rat and the internet was still in its infancy. Facebook, Instagram and YouTube didn't even exist. Instead of today's common, everyday Apps and sites with information related to every avocation, service and company, we only had slow-loading, high-traffic websites. One day, while searching for various Texas shark-related information, my fingers clicked on an interesting source.

David Williams, a Corpus Christi resident then and still, had started a fishing website called Coast-Shark.com. I felt encouraged to see how much emphasis the site placed on conservation. In this forum, David introduced and educated recreational anglers like me on the tag and release aspect of the sport. His huge push of conservation practices, in conjunction with the efforts of other great figures like Captain Billy Sandifer, helped revolutionize the sport, protecting sharks while they swim in Texas waters. During this pivotal time, pioneers like these men set the trend and promoted the release of various kinds of sharks, after their numbers had been thinned out significantly, over decades of thoughtless, often unnecessary harvesting.

A key tool on David's website was the message forum, which might be described as a somewhat crude version of Facebook. Anglers could register, log in and make posts, whether to share a report or simply to ask for help. In those cyber chambers, I acquired an alias (Oz) that sticks with me to this day. I still have quite a few friends I originally met through David's site.

To be sure, the sharking crowd can be crusty; we're a sometimes ruthless group of people, mostly because serious sharkers will do just about anything to optimize their chances of catching a big shark. Truth be told, members of this breed have passed their habits and ideas down through the decades while roaming the Texas beaches. In the past, many of them killed what they caught, without really thinking. But things sometimes do change for the better.

In 2003, well immersed in the forum, and interacting with some of the jagged members of the Texas sharking community, I joined Curtis Mai on an odyssey which cemented my interest in land-based sharking. We spent some time working on a construction project in the Caribbean, where I was able to do plenty of fishing. During a break at the start of December, when we had to leave the islands, I had time to relax for a couple weeks back home.

Back in Corpus, I began fishing more than I ever had while in college; the song of the surf had already captured me. Soon after we returned from the tropics, an awesome weather-window materialized. I convinced fellow sharking partner Scott Nelson to hit the beach with me. I'd been eager to try new sharking techniques I learned while fishing the reefs of the Caymans, and with confidence, I set out to target a mako. We headed to one of our favored spots on Padre Island National Seashore and set up in anticipation of the afternoon bite. By 2 pm, we had our array of baits soaking beyond the breakers. When the hands of the clock turned past three, our world was magically transformed.

I hooked the first shark, on my old-school 12/0 Penn Senator. With a large section of jackfish out a few hundred yards, I figured it would be a solid fish of some kind. Shortly after hookup, my excitement grew when I saw my monster thrashing on the surface. Honestly, it seemed a compact car had fallen from the sky and crashed into the sea.

At that moment, I knew this shark was unlike any I'd ever hooked, much larger than any I 'd previously landed. I strapped in with Scott's good harness and battled the fish with all my might. When I succeeded in pulling the still green fish within about fifty yards of the sand, I still had no idea what it was. Scott grabbed the tail-rope and I followed him into the shallows, trying to muscle the beast closer. And then we had our moment―the shark came onto the bar and turned perpendicular to the beach. The sight is forever vividly etched in my mind; I saw the unmistakable silhouette of the rarest of the rare sharks on any Texas beach – my life-altering shortfin mako!

When Scott looped the rope around the tail of my shark, it nearly ripped his arms from their sockets. I ran over to help, and we wrestled our brute onto the beach. There, on the sandy strip I've come to call my second home, lay the largest land-based mako ever caught in Texas. Within moments, we agreed to tag and release the remarkable creature, not only because it was the right thing to do, but in the hopes of making an important statement in the Texas land-based sharking community.

We could have kept the fish, enjoyed its delicious meat, and made a stunning set of bleached jaws to commemorate the event. But my decision was to release it. We got our measurements, then tagged the impressive specimen before helping it swim back into the depths. At 9'6" and somewhere north of 400 pounds, this was the largest shark I'd ever caught. For the remainder of that day, Scott and I roamed around speechless, utterly amazed.

Many things have changed through the years since I made that incredible catch. Through word of mouth and other avenues, the name Oz became firmly established in the Texas sharking community. As part of this process, I wrote a special piece for this very magazine, a behind the scenes view of sharking, centered on the story behind the landing of the mako.

More than any other event, the landing of this fish spawned opportunities in my life. It led me to many interesting things, like appearing on TV shows and assisting various organizations with research projects. Ultimately, my full-time gig built around guiding land-based shark charters would not have happened had I not poked around in cyber-space during the Stone Age of the internet and found a community of people with interests like mine. Because of the blessings these people bestowed on me, I've landed 2 (unofficially 3) of the 7 makos ever taken on Texas beaches. Accordingly, I'm living proof of how the catching of a single, very special fish can act as a catalyst and spring an angler on to greater heights and more satisfying things.