Author: John McIntyre, based on May 1994 written account by Richard Obach
Photography: Vic McCristal, and from the collection fo Richard Obach

In July 1966, Richard, of Brooklyn, New York, and a fellow American arrived in Cairns after shipping into the country as crew on a German freighter. They journeyed north until they hit town. As Richard tells it, he took a position at the Green Island Resort, where things did not work out at all well. Back in town the next day, a chance meeting with another expatriate American led to an introduction and job trial with the quietly spoken ex-Floridian charter boat skipper, Capt George Bransford.

To say that this meeting changed lives forever may be drawing a long bow, but for certain Australians, gamefishing was directed down a path to undreamed-of fish, incredible adventures at sea and a gallery of players who, over 40 years, have changed Cairns and the region forever. Richard can be proud of the role that he played in this and his return to Cairns after 40 years will be welcome.

Richard was engaged by Capt Bransford who, he wrote, was the finest boss he ever worked with or for. He learned to rig baits, to position tackle and to control the activities on the deck. The 32ft Sea Baby's initial mate, Alan Collis had recently resigned to build his own boat, Marlan in his father Harold's boatyard. Harold had built Sea Baby for George Bransford and Alan had cut his teeth for charter gamefishing on the deck of the same vessel.

George described for Richard what he was trying to accomplish. Big gamefishing had not yet caught on in Cairns, so his plan was to catch 'a big fish that will inspire interest'. Richard declared his desire to learn and they set forth. At first they stayed on 'the inside' and fished in the 25 to 35-fathom depths. Richard prepared the baits, hooked and fought the fish (when they did not have a charter), and, in most cases boated the fish himself.

Up on the bridge, Capt Bransford took notes, read the charts, watched the depth recorder and kept his eye on the compass. Richard wrote that in just weeks he gained months of training. They caught scores of young black marlin in the 50lb range. With George as his mentor, his haywire twists turned into works of art. His baits were perfectly rigged in both appearance and balance and his knots were strong and tight.

In late August 1966, Sea Baby ventured out beyond the Great Barrier Reef. Thirty five miles offshore, the depth went to 50 fathoms, then to 100, and then the bottom fell away. As Richard described it, it was 'Never-Never Land', where they saw no other boats. The experience of being out on that vast, unexplored ocean was electrifying. On the first trip out beyond the reef, nothing happened. But the second time...

WILDEST DREAMS
September 10, 1966 dawned clear and calm. Two hours out of the harbour Richard put the bait lines over the stern. Within five minutes, a 5lb tuna gave a stiff-bodied, spastic shake on the floor of the fishbox. Two more tuna and two mackerel were soon keeping it company. As Sea Baby sailed the final hour toward the drop-off, Richard head-rigged the flopping baits with 14/0 hooks.

As Richard wrote: "Then we were out there. The right 'rigger with the swimming mullet, fluttering and dancing about 3ft under the surface and about half a mile above the ocean floor. The bonito, up short on the left 'rigger, skipped and splashed, sometimes shooting out of the water as if it were alive and pursued by a predator. The hours went by. We saw blue-backed, crystal-winged flying fish sailing into the air and sliding back into the surface with diminutive splashes. George found birds salvaging pieces from a recently preyed-upon school of baitfish, its oily slick visible on the calm sea. The scent of fish filled the air, but all we found at the dinner table was a 40lb dolphin and a 40lb wahoo. At about two in the afternoon, George reluctantly decided it was time to head back: 'That's it, Rich. We've got to bring in the baits'.

"As I wound in the mackerel on the left 'rigger, the quiet, saline air was shattered by George's shout: 'Marlin! Right 'rigger!'.

"Never in my wildest dreams did I anticipate anything as gigantic as the creature that was lazily following the mullet. I thought the marlin was a whale shark. 'That's a marlin?' I asked in disbelief as I removed the rod with the Penn Senator 9/0 from the gunwale.

"'Yeah. And it's a big one!' George replied."

Richard Obach recounted that in the following weeks he came to realise how much of an understatement George had made, but right at that moment he was busy winding in the slack line right up to the pin. The massive baseball bat-sized bill sliced the water; the cavernous mouth opened, and the mullet was gone.

"Now!" George yelled. Richard snapped the clip and the free line fell into the sea. Pulling the free-spool lever backward, he quickly moved into the chair. From the bridge came the words, "Lock it up!"

The angler waited. Nothing! Richard yelled at George, "He's gone! He's dropped it!"

Again, sharp words from the bridge: "He's coming back. Wind it in! WIND!"

Richard was on his feet. What a sight. The monster marlin came on like a rogue cape buffalo. And then it stopped.

"Jig it!" George roared. As Richard did so, the marlin displayed a phenomenon that he would witness only three times. The head and fins changed to the colour of a pulsing, purple-blue phosphorescence. Then the leviathan charged. Obach lowered the rod and the mullet dropped into a mouth so wide that it could have engulfed a 40-pounder.

For the second time in minutes the 9/0 was in free spool, this time whirling faster than before. Richard counted to 10, then clicked the gear lever forward. The 80lb monofilament stretched taut, then sang. Straining as hard as he could, he pulled back and set the hook. But the star drag was set too tight. Without a belt gimbal, the rod butt dug into his gut. He lost his balance and was flung to his knees. Capt Bransford sprung into the cockpit, ready to help.

"You okay?" he asked as Richard rose and made his way into the chair. Adrenaline was pumping into his body and he saw the freight train of a sea creature stand straight up on the surface of the ocean.

THE BATTLE CONTINUES
Less than 100ft away, the fish's belly was towards the boat and its enormous head snapped back and forth like a bulldog shaking a rat. The marlin's tail flailed on the foaming water, and then it fell backwards with a bone-jarring crash, disappearing in a fountain of spray and foam. The over-tight drag screamed as the marlin made two lightning-quick leaps, each spanning 30ft.

"Back off the drag," George shouted, "or you'll break him off."

Richard wheeled back the star drag so that the rod would not splinter. The marlin went down deep. The rod bent like a horseshoe, to its maximum, and he held on for dear life. The giant marlin had already taken three quarters of the line, which was angled almost straight down into the deep. The fish then settled on a plane and headed south. Sea Baby followed. Little did Richard and George realise that they were taking on alone what was probably more than 1,500lbs of marine muscle.

George fitted Richard with a nylon fishing harness that he had brought over from Florida. This relieved much of the pressure on Richard's hands and shoulders. George manoeuvred the boat to try to coax the marlin to the surface. Richard kept the pressure on. Three hours into the fight, the stitches on the right side of the harness began to break. Ten minutes later the strap tore off the harness, rendering it useless. With no footrest, Richard braced his feet on a fishbox as he tried to break the stalemate.

By the fourth hour he began to get some line build-up on the reel spool. He moved the drag up a notch. He would pump, wind and gain 30ft and lose only 10ft. The great marlin was tiring, but so was Richard. Nearing the fifth hour Richard told George that the marlin was close. Shortly after, George sighted the fish. Soon, Richard had the marlin about 60ft behind the stern. George was ready to take the #12 wire. The gaff was at the ready.

The marlin's shoulders looked as wide as the bonnet of a car and the spike to Richard to be the size of his leg. The tip of its dorsal fin was protruding above the surface. Suddenly there was a change in colour and a change in shape - the marlin was twisting, turning and rolling! Richard fell backwards, the bend in the rod and the pressure on his body gone. The great ocean beast had won!

Richard and George watched it turn away, slowly swimming down into the deep blue depths. It was time for tears. The fish had been so close and they had worked so hard. The big one that would have started the sportsfishing charter business was gone.

A SECOND CHANCE
Sea Baby churned back toward the Grafton Passage. Daylight gave way to darkness and the heavens shined with pinpoints of light, a myriad of stars, countless in the pollution-free sky. They examined the leader wire. The great fish had been bill-wrapped twice and the wire had kinked and broken at the angle where the wire went from mouth to bill. They agreed that on the next trip to 'Never-Never Land' they would use #15 wire. Richard also decided that in the future he would use the largest baits possible. Despite an initial estimate of 800lbs, it became clear some time later that its weight was between 1,500 and 2,000lbs.

About a dozen interested fishermen were awaiting Sea Baby as they pulled up alongside the old Cairns wharf. They were eager to learn all about the great battle between man and marlin. They told their story as they cleaned the tackle and Richard wondered whether he and Capt Bransford would ever have another chance like the one they had that day.

Amazingly, they did get a second chance. On September 24, 1966 George decided they would go out the following day and continue the search for a big one. He suggested that Richard invite a friend who would be willing to trade his help for the experience. This is how Eddie Grapes, looking forward to adventure and anxious to try out his recently acquired movie camera joined Sea Baby for the day.

At 7am the next morning, the crew of three put to sea and headed for the Grafton Passage. Arriving at the inside of Jenny Louise Shoal about 9.30am, they hung their feather and spoon rigs overboard and proceeded to catch bait. The baitbox was quickly stuffed with grey mackerel, tuna and rainbow runner in the five to 8lb range.

As Sea Baby headed toward the deep waters, Richard's sewing needle and linen line secured the 14/0 hooks to the top of the heads of his flopping baits; 12/0 hooks rode in the bellies of his leadless, swimming mullet. Thirty minutes later they reached the drop-off. The boat was throttled down to 2.5kts and Richard put the baits over the side. The ocean was clean and layered with rips, or current changes.

Richard remarked on the veil of soft sea-salt crystals cloaking the stern of Sea Baby as his body rocked and swayed on a sea not quite so kind as it was on September 10. A 6lb mackerel trolled one-third up the right bamboo outrigger, which arched in protest against the weight. An extra rubberband held the jaws of the padded wooden clip securely against the line. Soon they had a hook-up and Eddie was offered the chance to fight it, but he declined. It was obvious that the dreaded mal de mere was setting in.

Richard boated a wahoo weighing about 50lbs. A little while later they had another hit, a "cut-off." They had not found marlin and, as Richard described it, "the time was going the way of the prop wash". George saw a couple of his favourite sea birds, the man-of-war, or frigate bird. He turned Sea Baby towards them. With one eye on the stern, the other on the bow, and both eyes on the echo sounder, George announced that they had just passed over a big fish. "It may be a shark or it may be a marlin," he said as they circled back. It was the latter.

Burrowing into the swells and then shooting out of them, the 5lb rainbow runner on the right outrigger created little bolts of spray as it splashed along the surface. Suddenly, the black, coarse sword was within a foot of the pink, bronze and blue baitfish. Richard held the line about 2ft from the clip. The bill sped under the surface, the marlin's sickle tail frothing the water. Then, eyeball to eyeball on the rainbow runner's left side, the marlin was up again. Beginning its preliminary light show, the fish's head sparkled alabaster, shades of blue, and then bronze. George and Richard could tell at a glance that this marlin was a child compared with the '800-pounder' they had lost two weeks earlier.

"Eat it! Eat it!" Richard yelled. Hearing Richard's excitement, Eddie left his bunk and came up with his movie camera in hand. Mumbling to no one in particular, he glanced behind the boat. Then he began to film with his ill-fated camera.

"Take it! Take it, you big bastard! Take it!" Richard yelled. With cat-like speed the marlin obeyed his plea. He pulled the monofilament line free from the clip and 30ft of line free-spooled toward the fish. With the 80lb fibreglass stick solidly in the chair's gimbal, Richard clicked the lever forward on the Penn reel. The monofilament line stretched taut as the 14/0 hook rooted itself in the marlin's jaw. He leaned back hard and the 30lb striking drag voiced the hook-up.

Nothing happened! The marlin, which Capt Bransford could see quite clearly, stayed almost motionless, but for the shaking of its head. Then, the marlin casually moved off seaward, seemingly unaware of the hook or the extra weight it was pulling from the sturdy gears of the Penn.

Just as George's "he doesn't know he's hooked yet" trailed away from the bridge, the rod lurched to a steeper angle. The line hissed and zipped across the surface as it pointed the way towards the Great Barrier Reef. The mass of blue-black and silver muscle moved into fast-forward and the Penn began to wail and howl. The monster marlin now knew it was hooked.

George directed Eddie Grapes to wind in the mullet. Still struggling on his poor sea legs, Ed lost his balance. His camera slipped from his hand, bounced off the top of the transom, and fell into the sea.

This fish was reacting altogether differently than the leviathan they had fought on September 10. Instead of leaping in great arcs, this unicorned submarine decended and, in a flash, disappeared with 100 yards of line. Then it ejected itself out of the dark blue sea, rising high up into the pale blue sky. The strong, 5ft tail propelled the agile fish into the air again and again.

This time, Sea Baby was ready for the battle. The new, heavy-duty canvass harness that George had bought from a Cairns merchant fitted perfectly. The recently-installed chair footrest was a blessing. Richard gained some of the surface line back, but then lost that and more as the marlin sounded. The 10/0 Penn reel complained so loudly that they feared it would spin itself apart. Heat built up in the reel as one-third of the spool's bluish-grey line disappeared into the ocean. Suddenly, the marlin halted its dive.

For a quarter of an hour the fish settled in. Not until Richard applied thumb pressure on the spool in an attempt to lift the fish did they get a response. The marlin now took out even more line. For the next 30 minutes neither the beast nor the angler gained an inch. But about an hour after the hook-up, monofilament began to build on the reel.

Richard thought that this marlin was going to be easy compared to the battle put on by the super giant two weeks earlier. Not only was this one smaller in size, bit it also seemed to have worn itself by jumping when it was hooked. Eddie located Richard's Kodak pocket camera and readied himself to take photos as the fish was drawn close.

A LEGEND IS BORN
Richard's heart sank as the line and rod suddenly relaxed and the pressure disappeared. They thought that they had lost this one, too. The angler wound frantically and the pressure reaffirmed itself just as the creature rocketed out of the deep about 50 yards off the stern. It fell back sideways into the sea, creating a hole in the ocean and pushing up a 6ft wall of water.

When it came back to the sea's exterior, it possessed only enough strength to heave one quarter of its huge bulk above the surface. Eddie captured the marlin's last effort on film - a shake of its wondrous head. This gallant sea creature was dying. From the cockpit, Richard heard George's order: "Back off the drag a bit. I'll wire; you gaff."

The gaff was not needed. The fish that started the Cairns marlin legend barely quivered as it was wired to the surface. The fish had fought its heart out. George grabbed its bill just as the marlin's huge gill covers opened twice and expelled a few bubbles of air. Then the light went out of its large, radiant eye.

In the days ahead, Richard would write to his brother, Robert, that he felt sadness for this noble denizen of the deep that had lived life so naturally up until the fateful moment, 95 minutes earlier, when it began the contest that ended in its death.

On the deck of Sea Baby they were jubilant. "How big is it George?" Richard asked.

"Four hundred, 500lbs. Probably a new Australian record on 80," George replied.

Sea Baby possessed no such luxury as a transom door or a lifting davit. They decided to drag the fish over the side and into the cockpit. Later on they would laugh at this futile effort, and in the end they elected to tow the fish back to port. They placed a noose around the marlin's massive chest; half-hitches secured its bill. As they started for home, marlin in tow, the rod still rested in the holder on the fighting chair and the hook was still rooted in the upper right side of the fish's mouth.

Sea Baby sat back in the water as Capt Bransford worked the little Perkins Diesel to find the right niche. The radio crackled the good news back to Cairns - they had in tow the largest marlin ever brought into port. And no one knew the half of it.

THEY ALMOST LOOSE THE FISH!
Somewhere inside the colour-wheel of living rock that is the Great Barrier Reef, it happened. Without warning, the sound of the Penn reel letting out line merged with the dull revolutions of the Perkins. The air was charged with the scream of line under drag ripping from the reel. It was their marlin! Somehow the fish had slipped from the tow rope and was sinking into the depths.

"The fish! The fish!" Richard shouted as he scrambled back into the fighting chair. Eddie leapt off the bunk and George cut back on the throttle. For a second time Richard brought the creature back to the surface. As they again secured the marlin, they noted with surprise that the wire, although quite twisted, did not crimp and break. With extra security the marlin was again in tow and Sea Baby continued west.

Darkness had enveloped them. In the distance they could see the electric glow of human habitation. Then they were home. Scores of people were waiting for them on the old Cairns jetty. As they drew the now semi-floating billfish in, Richard noticed its size in comparison to a nearby boat. "George," he said, "that's a big fish!"
As if he didn't want to commit himself, George replied, "It is, isn't it?"

THE WEIGH-IN
With absolutely no idea of the marlin's true weight they decided to rope the fish and physically lift it from the water and pull it to the top of the pier. The pier was about seven or 8ft above the water and they had a team of nearly 20 tough Aussies ready to lift. But, as the huge bulk neared the top, a beam on the pier prevented them from lifting the fish any further.

As the fish hung there, the rope bearing the brunt of the fish's weight cut through the skin and flesh into the chest cavity. The contents of the marlin's stomach, including two tuna in the 10 to 12lb range emptied into the harbour. Quickly the men lowered the marlin back into the water.

As Richard wrote, the next idea was a good one. Charlie Varcol brought his 16ft boat alongside, attached a line to the marlin and towed the fish to a small beachhead on the other side of the pier. They winched the marlin on to a six-wheeled truck with a 10ft flatbed.

The giant slab of fish tested the truck's springs and shock absorbers. The marlin's tail protruded about 3ft beyond the back of the flatbed.

They were not able to weigh the great fish until the Queensland Railways Weigh Station opened the next day.

The marlin, packed under bags of ice, laid waiting on the concrete driveway of Webb's Ice House.

At 8am, George Bransford and Richard Obach and awestruck spectators were back at Webb's. In the daylight, the marlin appeared even larger than it was the night before. A small stream of water, blood and fish oil ran down the alley and into a storm drain.

With a curved sailor's needle, Bob Starr stitched up the gash that ran the length of the chest cavity. Ropes bound the marlin to a 10ft wooden plank and a forklift raised the fish from the ground. The photo session began and memories were recorded and frozen in time. The marlin's length was recorded at 13'10".

The fish's girth has been the subject of some speculation and doubt in Richard's mind, particularly in recent times. It has been variously stated as being 6'4" and 6'8". But news clippings found by Richard state the girth to be 6'9".

The differences are significant in the calculations to establish the fish's optimal weight. Richard has since directed inquiries to the International Game Fish Association in Florida, USA, where the original capture claim was lodged. Unfortunately, IGFA is unable to assist at this time. With the passage of 40 years, personal records held by Richard and George Bransford were lost or misplaced.

The marlin was placed on the flat ground scale and the plank and ropes were removed. All the assembled throng were silent as the weigh master balanced the weighing beam. Then, he bellowed, "1,064lbs!"

As Richard so vividly described it, the crowd erupted with yells, whoops, whistles and cheers. Richard said to George, "Can it be that big? Ask him to weigh it again."

Again the weigh master adjusted the scale and confirmed, "1,064lbs!" The black marlin became a new world record. Furthermore, the fish was the first marlin over 1,000lbs ever to be caught on 80lb test line.

The news of the great catch spread worldwide. Sports writers and photographers came to investigate. Charters became the norm for Cairns, rather than the exception.

The Cairns Council and the Cairns Game Fishing Club developed plans to modernise the facilities so that fish of huge proportions could have quick and safe handling from boat to weighing scale.

Richard Obach has stated that George Bransford's dream of hooking a big one to inspire people's interest not only came true, but it was far surpassed.

The record fish helped to build businesses, create employment and raise families. That record marlin modernised Cairns and probably brought millions of dollars into its economy. Richard also noted that he would probably not recognise it today. But he will have his opportunity to do so in September when he travels to Cairns as the guest of BlueWater on the occasion of the 40th anniversary celebrations.

MOVING ON
Richard wrote that he decided to move on in January 1967 to continue his adventure around Australia. He says that he should have stayed and now regrets that decision. He eventually returned to USA where he worked aboard the Fort Lauderdale, Florida, boat Water Witch with Capt Carol Chance.

Eventually, Richard went to work for the Florida Game and Fresh Water Commission based in Martin County, Florida.

He further recalled that when he was out fishing for brown trout on a Catskill Mountain stream he could still hear Capt George Bransford's shout: "Marlin! Right 'rigger! And it's a big one!"