A different kind of hunting

Everyone who has met me and knows my back story, knows that I had a long career as a Sea Captain before semi-retiring to my very first profession as a gunsmith. Almost everyone around here grew up around firearms and hunting. But... what's the most unusual hunt you ever did or heard of? Here's my entry for "Unusual Hunt" category.
In 2012 I was working for a very big, high-end diving company, running one of their boats out of St Maarten in the Caribbean. She's a 115ft, fully equipped liveaboard dive ship with all our own compressors and we mostly dive nitrox. On a Saturday afternoon we'd load groceries, fuel and up to 18 guests then depart for Saba after dinner onboard.
Without reciting the entire itinerary, we'd end up off the Island of St Kitts by early Thursday morning for 5 more dives - including a night dive - my favorite!! Due to the laws protecting reefs, we cannot just "drop anchor" anywhere and because there are always local fishermen all along the coast, we use "hidden moorings" This is usually a 160ft poly rope firmly attached at one end to an old wreck 40ft down and the other end held down with a 15# dive belt. This ensures it's not "occupied" when I arrive each Thursday.
GPS guides me directly over the mooring and I blip the horn, then my divemaster jumps in, all prepped. Sometimes I let the 1st mate run the boat in so I can retrieve the mooring and get some "alone time" in my favorite place.
This day it was my turn. Being the first on the bottom is always magical; the fish aren't spooked by dozens of tourists splashing around yet. I retrieved the mooring, handed it up to the crew, then sank down to the reef 40ft down. I had almost an hour of air and was in no rush. I always carry a pole spear for lionfish - very good eating and a bad invasive species. The spearhead can be unscrewed for a 'Power Head" - for sharks. This carries a.44 magnum cartridge, specially waterproofed with a coat of varnish.
About 20 minutes into my swim I came across four large fishooks suspended off the sand, lines leading up to a small skiff. There was always an old local fisherman asleep in his rowboat near our mooring, hand lines drooping over the side. I avoided those and a dozen feet further I peered into a deep
cave under an overhang of coral. One of the biggest Goliath grouper I'd ever seen was looking back at me - afterward weighed at 580#... !!!
Call me crazy - but I had an idea! I fitted the powerhead and snuck my arm through a narrow gap beside the grouper. One hard shove just ahead of his gills and the KRAK!!! of a .44 mag underwater does evil things to your ears. Sand, debris, chunks of rock and vegetation blew all around me as he spasmed. A minute later the slight current cleared the area, I dragged the grouper over to the dangling fish hooks. Careful not to hook myself, I lifted the largest hook and stuck it through the fish's top lip, then jerked the line like I was ringing a church bell. I backed away and watched as it was pulled ever so slowly to the surface. Food for a month for that family!
Some weeks later, same place, same me in the water. I swam over to the old guy and knocked on his hull; "Caught anything good lately?' I asked. He looked at me awhile, then in his very Island way said "Yessir, a couple week ago I had a nice grandpa grouper. Too big to pull into the boat. Took me an hour tp row dat giant to de beach, den my sons came to help. But funny 'ting - I never saw a fish ever commit suicide before he take my bait! He shot hisself outta pure despair at getting caught!! We had a fine cookout for de whole block of people!"
I miss the ocean. Be safe out there.
Captain "African" Jon.

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