Some fish are fought on a rod, others are fought before the rod ever gets handed off.
That was the case aboard Waterproof Charters when Captain Tim Garrett and First Mate Cody Gartrell found themselves staring at the kind of bull mahi most crews only talk about after losing one. The boat was working offshore in roughly 900 feet of water when Captain Tim first pointed behind the boat. Cody looked back and saw what he thought was the fish Captain Tim was calling out, a solid 30-pound cow mahi. That alone would have been enough to make any deck move fast. Cody grabbed a spinning rod, fired a cast, and then saw the real fish. Not the cow. The bull. A fish that looked nearly three times her size. That was the moment the entire situation changed.
Cody realized the spinning rod in his hand, rigged with a small Squiddly on 60-pound, was not the setup for what had just appeared behind the boat. Tim even asked him, “Do you see the one I’m talking about? I don't think you want him eating that one.” and Cody knew immediately the gear had to change. The spinner got dropped, and the Speedmaster came out. And from there, the whole catch became a chess match.
Cody got a bait clipped on and pitched it to the bull, but the cow kept complicating the shot. He had to work the bait past her and get it in front of the right fish. When the bull finally ate, Cody dumped line to him, came tight, and watched the fish open its mouth and spit the bait right back at him. Then it happened again. And again. That is the part of a catch most people never see from the dock photo. The fish did not simply eat, hook up, and come to the boat. Cody had to read him, adjust, and make a decision fast. He knew if they lost that fish immediately there was still a chance he would eat again, but if they lost him five minutes into the fight.. that chance was gone.
So on the next shot, when the bull came in hot, Cody reeled away from him and forced the fish to fully engulf the bait. Once he saw the moment, he drove the hook home. Then he handed the rod off, and for a second, he did not even want to look. Too much was at stake. Cody went to work clearing the cockpit. Other lines, teasers, and gear had to come in. Before he could fully settle into the fight, the boat also landed three other fish. Then he cleaned his glasses, cleared the rest of the spread, and looked back at the bull again.
The fish was laying about 40 feet behind the boat. Just there. Chilling. But nothing about the situation was calm. Cody was trying to explain to everyone on deck exactly how big of a deal this fish was. To the anglers, it was already exciting. To the crew, it was a whole different level of pressure. A fish like that is not just big, it is rare.. and rare fish do not usually come easy.
From the mate’s perspective, one of the hardest parts was not getting distracted by the cow that stayed with the bull. That cow was still swimming alongside him, begging for a bait. But Cody had seen that movie before. He had seen three giants like this in his life. The first one was lost because of the cow; this time, he knew better.
The other major threat was the grass. They were fishing a hard edge, with wide mats of grass off the starboard side as the boat traveled south. The bull kept trying to put his head in the current and inch toward that weedline. Had he made it there, Cody said it would have been a nightmare. That is where Captain Tim Garrett’s work from the helm became everything. Captain Tim kept the boat pointed south, slowly working the fish away from the grass instead of getting too eager and forcing the gap closed too quickly. They backed down on the fish multiple times, and the bull came up on both sides of the boat, but Captain Tim never let that fish get his head down.. and he never let him gain the advantage of the weedline.
That kind of boat handling does not usually show up in a hero photo, but it is often the reason the hero photo exists. For Cody, the whole fight carried the feeling that they could lose the fish at any moment. Not because the crew did not know what they were doing, but because fish like that are not supposed to make it easy.
“You hear more stories of the one that got away than 67-pounders hitting the deck,” Cody said. Still, he had faith in the rig, it had been freshly tied that morning. He knew gear was right, the Captain was right, and the angler was still in the fight. Now they just needed the window.
Cody had the gaff in his hand for about 15 minutes before the chance finally came. On one pass, as the fish moved from the port side to the starboard side while the boat backed down, Cody looked at the angler and told him to remember everything he was about to say. "Keep the line tight. Keep that fish’s head up."
They were going for it; Cody nodded, Captain Tim gave just enough from the helm. The fish came right where it needed to be, and Cody stuck him. No second-guessing. No hesitation. Just the moment, the shot, and then the ride that comes when a 67-pound bull mahi realizes he is headed over the rail. Cody said he knew as soon as the gaff landed that he had better hold on and tuck his knees. Before the shot, he had even ripped the foam grips off the gaff, a detail that says plenty about how much power he expected from that fish.
Then the bull hit the deck. For a second, there was not some perfect movie-scene celebration. There was shock. The kind of quiet that happens when everyone is still trying to process what just landed in front of them. Cody remembers that when the fish came over the rail, there wasn’t much time to choose the perfect words. Sometimes, when a fish like that hits the deck, the reaction just comes out of your mouth before your brain catches up. The anglers were staring. The crew was staring. Someone may have still been reeling. And there, finally, was the fish. A 67-pound bull mahi. A boat record for the Waterproof, among their many others, and the largest bull mahi ever landed aboard a charter out of Ponce Inlet.
For Cody, being part of that fish aboard the Waterproof meant more than just another mark on the dock scale. It was an honor. The Waterproof has a long-standing reputation in Ponce Inlet's charter fishing, not just for finding one big fish, but for putting together real numbers. On this trip, they did both. They put the smackdown on more than 30 good mahi, and then they added the one nobody will forget.
For Captain Tim Garrett and First Mate Cody Gartrell, this was not just a lucky fish. It was the result of recognition, restraint, rigging, boat handling, deck work, timing, and one clean shot when the opportunity finally showed itself.
Some fish make a story, this one proved the crew.
