It’s the game that counts

IT IS a windy, clear afternoon on the Gulf of Mexico, 70 miles out from the Texas coast. The water is a dull grey, and choppy. The crew are dozing over plates of half-eaten mangoes. Suddenly, a rod bends. A good-sized sailfish punches out of the water, twists, spreads its cobalt sail fin and shoots back under. The fight is on. After 30 minutes of physical to and fro the sailfish kicks hard and snaps the line. A cheer goes up. Catching the fish seems almost incidental. Big-game fishing is all about the thrill of a screaming line as a big fish takes the hook. It is not about who wins, but about the fight.