At 0500 on an Okinawan Saturday morning two black vans glide through the pre-dawn murk. Anticipation rides the faces of the eight Marines inside. Their senses are poised for action.
The sun has yet to show its face from its journey to the underworld as the warriors reach their take off zone and unload their gear and the day’s necessary supplies. The captain, an easygoing sort, waits patiently, knowing his charges are in for a heck of a mission.
Boarding the craft that will take them to their objective, the young men stow their stuff and take places aft of the fifty-footer. Quickly the five hundred horsepower diesel engine throbs to life and the captain eases out of the Awase Port berth and into open waters.
As soon as the boat is free of the harbor, purring like a giant cat, the Marines settle in. Then, as if at a silent signal, one reaches into the ice filled cooler and starts handing out the brew. The men begin fueling up, ready for a long day of deep-sea angling.
The captain has been running folks out to the fishing grounds for ten years. He knows the seas and the islands around Okinawa like he does his own name, which happens to be Chris Pancoast. He began taking out charters on his own last year and has a reputation of being a straight-shooting skipper.
Pancoast is one of only two Americans ever invited into the Okinawa fishing association.
He has been on island for fifteen years, five of them as a Marine. He fell in love with the place and one of its daughters and speaks pretty good Japanese.
“I can be on the board of directors, be president, and set policy now,” he says proudly of his membership in the association. It is obvious he honors the privilege.
His boat, Blue Fin, is Spartan-like, meant strictly for the business of catching fish. No frills, and the fishermen seem not to mind a bit. One Marine remarks that he’s been out with Captain Chris before and likes it better than the so-called party boats that carry up to a hundred. “No room on those,” he says, “too many people, lines get tangled.”
And on this craft a person keeps all their catch if they want. Some cruise charters set a limit.
At about 0730 the sonar spots a school, probably lollygagging around the sunken buoy that has created an environment for their food supply. The boat is out about fifteen miles north of Okinawa in open sea.
Captain Chris lets the boat power down and soon is drifting gently. The Marines come to life, hustling out the bait, tossing out the chum.
Gunnery Sergeant ‘Gunny’ Wes Latham gets the first hit. It sets the adrenaline flowing in all of them as he pulls up a nice yellow tail. It’s a fighter, and Gunny is a happy man when he hauls it in.
It doesn’t take long for the other guys to start reeling in their own tuna, roiling the water with their struggle.
In about half an hour the action slows down and Captain Chris tells the men to reel in. He checks the fish finder and points the bow seaward again.
Now the catch is the silvery bonita, related to the tuna, and also offering a good game when snagged. The fellows finally break a sweat with the strain of the quick abundance and the direct glare of the fully risen sun.
Then Griffin Alford feels a hit on his rod that is definitely bigger than the previous tugs and suddenly the luminescent splash reveals a fighting mad mahi mahi that has swallowed the hook.
It is not giving in easily, leading Alford in a battle that circles the boat. Captain Chris stands by giving encouragement and advice. The standoff lasts for more than fifteen minutes before the fish finally is gaffed aboard. It fights even then, resisting to the last.
Alford is a happy guy, tuckered out but victorious and no one doubts he will take the pot for having brought in the biggest fish. It weighs in at about twenty pounds and reaches almost three and a half feet. He has been endowed with a terrific fish story that he will remember for a long time.
A little later it’s Gunny’s turn to snag a nice sized mahi mahi. He gets a good fight out of it for another fifteen minutes, at least, but this time the fish wins, breaking the line at the last moment before the gaffing hook has got it. If disappointment has a face, Latham wears it.
By the end of the day everybody has had a taste of the excitement, fished out and tired, but happy. As one puts it, “Open sea, good fishing, great buddies, and beer - what could be better?”
If you’d like to try your luck, you can contact Captain Chris at 090-9788-0282. The cost is about a hundred clams for a really nice, long day.
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