Fifteen years ago I took my boyfriend Koji deep sea fishing in the Gulf of Mexico. There, he caught the scariest thing I’d ever seen…
We were living near Houston at the time, a land of heat, humidity and too many sunburns. My boyfriend hadn’t been fishing since he was a kid. He’d often reminisce about childhood trips with his ojiichan to the oceanfront pier. “We caught everything,” Koji said. “Sheepshead, stingrays. Even a sandbar shark once. It was over four feet long. We ate it that night. The meat tasted so sour.”
I could never get into fishing. It always made me feel queasy. “So you trick these animals with the promise of food,” I said. “But then you tear them violently out of their home and kill them?”
“True. But they don’t go to waste.” Koji nudged my belly. “You know that better than anyone.”
I laughed. Koji had a point. Seafood was one of my dietary staples, the only meat I would consume. Whenever we went out to restaurants, I often ordered the mahi mahi or salmon entree.
On Koji’s 22nd birthday I decided, after four years of hearing him reminisce about fishing, that I’d buy him a day trip as a present. So I went online and booked a private charter for that afternoon.
Koji’s deep blue eyes lit up as we entered the marina. “This is going to be great,” he said. “Especially with my baby at my side.” He pulled me in for a long, deep kiss. My stomach somersaulted.
We took dramamine, lathered on some SPF50, and headed for the docks. Our charter was a 30-foot vessel named ‘Cuda. It was a completely open boat with a center console, a small roof and two twin outboard motors at its stern that looked like giant black seahorses. A half-dozen fishing poles were on board, along with a tackle box and a massive cooler of ice, which I thought was for drinks, but was actually for fish.
Our captain/fishing guide was an elderly black man named Delroy Washington. Tall, lean and weathered, he’d spent over twenty years in the Merchant Marine before retiring to start his own fishing company. Delroy claimed he was half-fish himself, born at sea many years ago. “My mother plopped me out of her belly aboard a tramp steamer headed across the Caribbean,” he said, chuckling.
Koji and I laughed, not really sure what he meant.
“So what do you wanna catch?” Delroy asked us. “If you could catch anything. Any fish in the world.”
“I’m just here to take pictures,” I told him, holding up my Canon DSLR. I was big into photography and scrapbooking at the time. “Maybe photograph a sea turtle or some dolphins?”
“Absolutely. No problem.” Delroy turned to Koji. “How bout you, birthday boy? Your better half told me you love to fish. So what’s your dream catch?”
Koji thought for a moment. “You know… If I could catch anything, I think it’d be a goliath grouper. I saw one at an aquarium once when I was kid. As big as a Mini Cooper,” he said. “That fish could’ve swallowed me in one gulp. I had nightmares about it for weeks afterwards. It was so creepy, but soo cool.” Koji loved monster fish, particularly those that lived in the deep. He was both scared and fascinated by them. Some might even say obsessed. It reminded me of how religious people are often both terrified and in awe of God.
“Ah… a Goliath!” Delroy grinned. “We’d have to do a catch-and-release, but I have just the place.” He started the ‘Cuda’s engines. “I’m going to take you to the best spot for bottom fishing in the whole world. Lots of BIG groupers there.”
We went ten miles offshore to the site of a shipwreck that wasn’t on any nautical charts, at least according to Delroy. It was a place he’d heard about from some old fishing buddies. Delroy gave us the rundown as we headed to our location. “The wreck’s a 600-foot long container ship named the Amphitrite. She sank during a tropical storm a few years back, returning to her home port in Houston. Cap’n sent out a brief distress call. Then she disappeared from radar. When the storm ended, a big search party was launched. Lasted for months. Finally, they found her resting on her side in 250 feet of water. No survivors. Rumor has it the Amphitrite was carrying high-value cargo from a pharmaceutical giant when she went down. They did a salvage operation to recover it, then left the ship on the bottom of the sea, where she’s slowly turned into a reef. Great for fishing!”
Delroy stopped the engine and anchored the boat. “You’ll catch your goliath for sure.”
The ocean was calm. I glanced overboard. You could see a long way down, but there was no sign of fish or the giant shipwreck that gave them shelter. Everything was hidden beneath a heavy blanket of dark blue. I felt a shiver crawl up my spine and backed away from the boat’s railing.
“You’ll need this to catch the monsters.” Delroy handed Koji a pole that was six feet long and as thick as a tree branch. It had a fat reel of line and a hook big enough to punch through a man’s hand. Koji used a dead squid as bait, letting it sink all the way to the bottom. It took a minute to get there. Then, we waited for the first bite…
And waited… And waited… And waited…
We spent God knows how long just staring at the open ocean. All the while, Koji didn’t receive the slightest nibble on his line.
Our captain was shocked. “This–This has never happened before,” Delroy said. He kept re-positioning the boat over different sections of the wreck. “You’re going to get something. I promise. There are hundreds of fish down there.” He showed us his Garmin fish finder, an underwater GPS for tracking sea life. Its screen was full of floating blobs that Delroy swore were monster fish just waiting to be caught. To me, they looked like clumps of drifting seaweed.
Koji tried different bait: live mackerel, colorful lures, trolling. But nothing worked.
More hours passed. The boat bobbed up and down on the choppy water. Its surface was like a glass curtain rolling endlessly towards the horizon. I didn’t see the promised sea turtles or dolphins. And to make matters worse, I started feeling seasick. Even though I’d taken dramamine, a swell of nausea ballooned in the pit of my stomach, inching its way up my throat like some slimy, prickly worm. It started slowly, then grew very strong very fast. I ran to the side of the boat and vomited the remains of my breakfast burrito into the ocean.
“Sara? Are you all right?” Koji asked.
“It’s ok,” I told him. In truth, I wanted nothing more than to go home right then, but I felt so bad that Koji hadn’t caught any fish after years of wanting to go on a fishing trip. He looked so deflated, his shoulders hunched over. “It’s just a little seasickness. I’m fine now,” I told him. But the slick queasiness was already starting to well up again.
“Maybe we should call it a day,” Koji said, sighing. He was about to set his fishing pole down when something big tugged on the line.
Everyone froze, staring at the pole, wondering if its sudden movement was just a collective delusion. Koji started to crank the reel when there was another tug on the line.
“Set the hook!” Delroy said.
Koji yanked the rod upwards and the end of the pole violently bobbed up and down. Fishing line flew out of the reel so fast it made a screeching sound.
“Fish on!” Delroy said. “You hooked your monster, birthday boy!” He poured water onto the spinning reel to keep it from overheating.
I still felt nauseous, but steeled myself from throwing up again. I didn’t want to worry Koji, especially now that he finally had his birthday wish.
It took nearly an hour for him to bring the fish up near the boat. At first, we just saw a dark shape roughly 50 feet below the surface. It kept darting further into the depths before anyone could get a good look at it. But whatever it was, it was HUGE!
“As big as a Mini Cooper,” Koji said, his eyes wide.
“Almost there. Keep taking in the slack,” Delroy said.
Koji was still reeling in excess line when the fish yanked so hard it nearly snapped the pole in half, almost dragging him overboard. “Jesus!” Koji said, grabbing hold of the guardrail.
“Are you ok?” I rushed to his side.
Koji didn’t respond. He didn’t even look at me. His blue eyes were too focused on the depths below. He kept reeling in line. The fish was no longer fighting back.
“Look!” Delroy said, pointing into the ocean. The dark shape was finally coming into focus.
What was left of it…
Koji finished reeling in his catch, then lifted it out of the water a foot from the edge of the boat. It was NO fish! Hanging from the end of his line was a giant fleshy CARCASS, full of loose yellowish skin, pink organs and various gummy substances that resembled red Jello. The carcass had no discernible head or body, no eyes, no mouth, no bones. It was just lumps of skin and pink viscera, an animal that had been ripped apart by predators as it was dragged up from the deep. Even in a semi-consumed state, it was still huge. The living creature must have weighed over 400 pounds and been at least 8 feet long when it was still alive. For some reason, the body smelled like fresh fruit. It was disgusting. I wanted to shut my eyes and throw up. But I couldn’t look away. We spent a few moments staring at the carcass in silence when–
“What the fuck?” Koji said.
“I need to cut the line.” Delroy angled for the pole.
“What is it?” Koji asked the captain. “Is it a– a squid?”
“Maybe a dolphin? Or a whale?” I asked aloud. I raised my camera to take a picture but–
Delroy cut the line with a filet knife.
“No. Wait!”
The carcass dropped into the ocean with a heavy splash before I could take my picture. It quickly sank into the endless blue depths below. Gone in seconds.
“Why’d you cut it loose so fast? What– what was that?” I said.
“A piece of garbage from the wreck,” Delroy said. “Nothing worthwhile.” He started to put the rod and reel away.
“What?” I asked him, incredulous. “That thing had clearly been alive.”
Delroy was suddenly on edge. “We should get going.”
“What’s happening?” I asked.
Koji wiped something on his arm. It looked like red Jello. “I think some of it splashed on me,” he said.
Hearing this, Delroy rushed over and handed him a wet rag. “Use this. Wipe it all off, then throw the towel overboard.”
--
We went straight back to the marina afterwards. Koji spent most of the trip staring at the passing waves, while I interrogated Delroy for more information about what my boyfriend had caught: “If that was trash, how could it move like that?”
Delroy remained focused on the boat’s controls. “Sometimes, big pieces of debris feel like live fish on the line because ocean currents tug at them.”
I found this hard to believe. “Did that feel like dead weight or a live fish?” I asked Koji.
“I dunno,” Koji said. He kept staring at the passing waves. I’d never seen him so quiet before. His skin was as pale as sea foam.
“Well, how come it looked so organic?”
“I don’t know,” Delroy said. “But I didn’t wanna examine it further to find out.” He knew of fishermen who’d caught similar debris at other wreck sites before. “That stuff is often toxic, like medical waste,” Delroy said. “Maybe Koji hooked some fat deposit or something left over from the salvage operation.”
I frowned. The captain’s explanation sounded like a cover.
“What was that container ship really carrying?” I asked.
“You mean the Amphitrite?” Delroy stared at the horizon, thinking. Then he turned to me and shrugged. “I didn’t ask my buddies what it was carrying. All I needed to know was whether or not the fishing was good. And it was…”
“Until today?” I added.
Delroy nodded. Our captain was tense the whole ride back. His fingers gripped the steering wheel. Why was he so certain we’d catch a monster fish at that wreck? Had he seen or heard of something like what Koji had caught before? Maybe he even knew the potential for danger and was lying to save face. I wanted to ask more, but we’d arrived back at the marina and the captain was eager to get rid of us.
“You’ll get a free trip. Two free trips,” Delroy said. “Again, I am so, so sorry.”
Koji and I thanked Delroy and told him that we’d think about it, but I already knew I’d never go out on the man’s boat again. In fact, I never wanted to go fishing again. Not after what had happened. I don’t think Koji wanted to either.
--
We had a quiet birthday dinner that night at our townhouse. Koji seemed happy despite the day’s lackluster trip. “At least we have a great story to tell.”
“That captain was lying,” I said. Once we were on shore and had cell service again, I Googled the Amphitrite. The most recent ship with that name was built in 1802 and sank in 1833. “It’s definitely not some modern container ship,” I told him.
“Maybe he was confused. Or he forgot the name,” Koji said. “Who cares? What matters is we made it home safe.”
“Yeah. I guess,” I said. “I wish I’d gotten a photo of it.”
“It was probably just a dolphin,” Koji said. “And some shark killed it as I was reeling it in. Delroy just didn’t want to say it out loud, because it would make him look bad. Think about it… a fishing charter that was responsible for killing a dolphin? No one would ever book him again.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, chuckling. But somehow that explanation didn’t feel right either.
That night, while Koji and I were having sex, he suddenly pulled away. “Do you wanna go to the shower?” he asked, nearly breathless.
“Uh… Sure,” I told him, a little pissed. I was just getting into it when he stopped.
Koji grabbed me by the arm and pulled me into the shower. “I just need to feel wet right now,” he said. “I don’t know why.” We started to make out, getting into it again, when Koji suddenly turned the dial all the way to the left. Freezing cold water cascaded over our naked bodies.
“AH! What the fuck, Ko?” I turned the dial to warm, but Koji stopped me.
“No. It has to be cold,” he said. He opened his mouth wide, letting the icy water fill it up.
I stepped out of the shower, wrapping a thick bathrobe around my freezing body. “Is this some kind of a joke?”
Koji just stood there in the icy shower, but he wasn’t shivering. He actually seemed quite content. Comfortable even. “No,” he said. “But…”
“But what?” I asked, growing even more worried.
Koji started to fidget, his arms jerking spasmodically. Was he getting cold? “I need more,” he said, stepping out of the shower. When he brushed past me, his body felt like ice. Like a dead fish.
“What are you talking about? Where are you going?”
No response. Koji ran downstairs. I followed him. Maybe he was going to the kitchen for a warm drink?
But when I got downstairs, Koji wasn’t in the kitchen. Or the living room. Or the foyer. “KOJI?” I called out.
That’s when I heard the sound of a car engine starting.
I entered the garage and found my boyfriend behind the wheel of his car, still completely naked.
“KOJI!” I screamed. I tried opening the driver’s side door but it was locked! I banged on the glass. “What the fuck are you doing? Open the Goddamn door. Now!”
He finally looked at me, his expression pained. His face was turning blue, like he was suffocating. “I… I-I-I’m sorry,” he stammered from behind the windshield.
Those were the last words my boyfriend would ever say to me. Seconds later, Koji put the car in reverse and backed down the driveway.
He drove all the way to the shore that night. Koji was last seen at the end of a long oceanfront pier, the same one he used to fish off of with his grandfather. He was still naked.
A few old men who were shark fishing on the pier spotted him. They saw Koji stagger towards the railing, gasping for air. According to them, his face was purple, like he was choking. When the fishermen approached to help, Koji climbed onto the railing, then jumped off, disappearing into the cold, dark ocean forty feet below. One fisherman said he was “grinning like a kid” as he slammed into the waves.
The Coast Guard conducted a months-long search afterwards. They found no sign of Koji, not even a body. He was officially pronounced dead later that year. Cause of death: “suicide by drowning.”
I didn’t feel sad, not for a long time. I was angry at first. Then confused. Then angry again. Then mystified. I had days-long crying spells. Koji and I were supposed to get married. We’d talked about the life we would build together. About having lots of children and moving to a small shack on the beach. Why would he throw it all away, and in such a dramatic fashion?
Mostly, I just felt numb.
At his funeral, Koji’s parents told me they were suing Delroy and his fishing charter company. They believed their son was poisoned by the debris he’d caught that day. That it had caused some sort of nervous breakdown that made him kill himself. It was a theory I shared as well, although I wasn’t sure how it could be proven. I shuddered to think of someone going back out to that wreck to study the strange and toxic things that lay below the surface.
I later heard the family sued the shipping company that owned Amphitrite too. There was some large cash settlement, I think. I’m not sure. By that point, I just wanted to move on from the whole thing.
--
Years passed. I moved to the Arizona desert (living near the sea was just too triggering). I got a job at a tech company in Phoenix. Met a tanned football coach named Mark. We got married. Had two bright and beautiful kids. I’d almost forgotten about Koji and that fateful fishing trip… Until last week, on a family vacation to Hawaii.
While staying in Waikiki, Mark wanted to go “trawling for billfish” as he put it. It was something he hadn’t done in years, long before we were married. I was surprised to learn he was such an avid fisherman.
Of course I was reluctant. Anytime I went in the ocean after Houston, I got this strange, uneasy feeling. Like I was being watched. For the longest time, I told people I couldn’t even swim. And then I moved to the middle of the desert, hundreds of miles from any large body of water.
But seeing the absolute joy on my kids’ faces changed my mind. “Ok,” I said. “Let’s go.” Surely it couldn’t be that bad.
I never told my husband about Koji, much less his passing. I like to think the reason why was because I’d forgotten about it, but in truth I was too worried the story would make him second guess our relationship. The whole incident was just so surreal. Too surreal to be believable. I kept wondering how I would appear in his eyes after I told him. If he would still love me.
We went a few miles offshore of Honolulu. It was another private charter, but this time on a fancy 50-foot yacht, so I felt somewhat safer. The boat kept moving, dragging a series of colorful lures in its wake.
Mark and the kids were hoping to catch a marlin or a wahoo. Anything big and exciting. They were all holding onto different fishing poles.
Once again, I was just along for the ride, carrying my trusty camera (an iPhone this time). I was ready to photograph anything they caught.
A few minutes into the trip, Mark hooked something big. His line started screeching, going out a mile a minute. The captain poured water over the reel to keep it cool. “Fish on!” he said.
Mark fought the fish for nearly an hour, gradually bringing it closer and closer to the boat. The kids had their cellphones out, recording everything. Mark said it felt like a giant tuna on the line. He looked so happy. Even I was lost in the excitement at that moment.
After some time, the fish started to tire out. Mark had almost reeled it in when a huge wave rocked the boat. Everyone fell to the deck. Even the captain. Mark dropped his fishing pole.
I was the first to get up. And as I was helping my children to their feet, I happened to glance overboard. That’s when I saw it…
A giant shape glided silently beneath the waves, hooked to the end of Mark’s fishing line. It had a massive, sleek body, at least 10 feet long and covered in pinkish-yellow skin. Fins and tentacles jutted from its sides and a sharp fish hook pierced its scaly cheek, drawing blood.
Strangest of all, the creature had a HUMAN HEAD. His pained eyes looked into mine and in that moment I felt overwhelming fear, but also tremendous awe. Like a religious fervor. Moments before anyone else could see, I cut the fishing line…
And Koji disappeared into the watery depths below.