Tagged – The million-dollar sailfish was tagged back in November.
Photo: www.endlessimagery.com. 

The Catch
There’s One Fish in the Sea Worth a Million Bucks. But Only for a Few Days. And Only If You Hook It First.

“It’s not, put the rod down, drink a beer and fall asleep till something happens. You’re always watching.”

By Keyvan Antonio Heydari

You’re on a beautiful boat cruising off Miami Beach.

But don’t think of relaxing. Forget about a drink. And nobody seems to eat; if you want something, go inside and get it yourself. You’ve heard of the million-dollar fish? These guys are looking for him and others of his kind.

On Jan. 27 and 28, as if drawn by a siren’s call, a 78-boat flotilla sailed into the Atlantic to capture this silvery jackpot and win the Mayor’s Cup, the second of two tournaments where landing a tagged sailfish will yield the seven-figure jackpot.

“We have a lot of boats. I think the chances are better than hitting the lottery,” says Tony Albelo, the tournament’s organizer. “I would say the odds are 1 in 10,000.” Maybe, but it takes a large investment to get in the game. Start with a boat, a crew and the tournament entry fee, from $3,000 to $7,000 per boat. Plus there are the fishing equipment and high-tech radars some employ, not to mention details like bait and fuel (about $5,000 to fill up a big boat). In all, costs can add up to more than $10,000 for the weekend — without the boat. So does it make sense to invest that much when there are plenty of fish in the sea?

“No, it doesn’t make economic sense. But we have a bunch of egomaniacs, CEOs and accomplished people who all think they’re better than the rest,” explains Albelo, who heads a company that runs several well-sponsored fishing tournaments. He tagged the prize fish in late November under controlled conditions. A picture of the tag was sealed in an envelope and the one-million-dollar prize was guaranteed by an insurance policy.

This kind of fishing has nothing to do with R & R, and absent is the drinking that will get you to AA.

I’m on a boat called Uptight. At 5:30 in the morning, the crew is already preparing the lines and kites for the hunt, feeding food to the bait (caught weeks ago and kept alive in a tank on board). By 6:30, we’re hauling past Government Cut and Fisher Island on the 61-foot Viking, which can cruise at 40 knots powered by twin 2,000 HP engines. That means that we travel from Cocoplum to Miami Beach faster than it takes a car on U.S. 1 and I-95. The six fishing lines and bait go in the water at precisely 8 a.m.

“You heard of TigerDirect?” inquires Gilbert Fiorentino, owner of the boat. “That’s me.”

Gilbert Fiorentino and Captain Orange. Photo: Supersport.

Fiorentino, CEO of the Internet computer retailer that has been recognized by The New York Times as one of the “Top 25 Online Retailers,” at this moment has his entire identity tied up with the sailfish. The combative Hialeah native monitors the Internet connection on board Uptight and the radio for fish caught; he cajoles, cheerleads or scolds his crew when a fish breaks the line. “I’m not sure there are skills that can be transferred. But I think it’s easier to run a business with 3,000 employees than a boat with six people on it.”

Fiorentino, part of a Fortune 1000 concern, knows a good marketing gimmick when he sees one; in 1995 TigerDirect co-marketed with Microsoft the launch of Windows 95 with a $95,000 sweepstakes. Fiorentino never touches a fish, a rod or reel. He leaves that to his crew and teenage son Jeffrey, one of the most accomplished junior anglers in the state, who quietly reels in the silvery aquatic sylphs with the crew’s support.

Fiorentino’s confederate on the ship’s bridge is Neil Orange, a Southern-fried Florida cracker who moonlights as a pilot boat captain at the Port of Miami. Orange stews and growls like Yosemite Sam when he hears over the radio that Sandman caught two sailfish that crossed its stern moments earlier.

Sandman is captained by his son, Neil Jr. So Captain Orange, the Fiorentinos and Uptight move south on Biscayne Bay. Destination: Fowey Rock.

Technology does have a modern role in this ancient endeavor. Depth finders look for reefs and water 80- to 120 feet deep, where the sailfish lurk. Water temperature and current are other critical factors for locating the fish, voracious eaters that feed at the surface or mid-depths and can grow more than four feet in their first year. The Atlantic sailfish rarely tops 100 pounds and uses its beak to slash its prey before eating it.

Captain Orange and the members of Uptight are fixated on orange corks, slightly bigger than a golf ball, bobbing about 100 yards away. On the fly bridge, Orange appears to be watching a distant tennis match, as he systematically scans each of his lines right to left for a strike.

“We’re looking for a cork to move, get erratic. You gotta be watching,” Orange explains. “It’s not, put the rod down, drink a beer and fall asleep till something happens. You’re always watching.”

The boats are keenly competitive and focused on the sailfish, but not necessarily the tagged fish. “We’ve got to have the most technological boat out here,” says Fiorentino as he tries to get the tournament results off the Internet connection. When Uptight hooks its first sailfish, just over 90 minutes after putting the bait in the water, Fiorentino yells, “Don’t forget to look for a tag — the million-dollar fish is still out there.”

Albelo says he cooked up the fish promotion when he read about a Miami fisherman who had placed his wedding ring on the beak of a sailfish to celebrate his divorce, then caught the same sailfish again a year later. Whoever might be lucky enough to catch the fish during two tournaments, this past December’s FYI Sailfish Kickoff and the Seavee/Mercury Mayor’s Cup, had to clip off the numeric tag, release the fish unharmed and present the tag to tournament officials for verification. Everyone on board was required to submit to a polygraph test. Ergo, no fish stories.

The irony in these tournaments is that catching anything that could qualify for dinner actually disturbs the competitors’ singular focus: the Istiophorus albicans, considered the fastest fish in the ocean and clocked at more than 65 mph. Sailfish meat is quite tough and not generally eaten, but they are prized by sportfishermen for their fight, blinding speed, acrobatic jumping and brilliant blue-black dorsal fins, which they flash like fans when hooked.

To land the Ferrari of the ocean, live bait is essential. Plus the right equipment. Viking, Bertram and Hatteras Yachts abound in the Mayor’s Cup, but there are also smaller vessels like SeaVee, Yellowfin, Contender — open fishermen under 35 feet long — who paid the hefty entry fee. “I would say 60 percent of success in this is the equipment,” asserts Fiorentino.

Kites and outriggers are also used to deploy the live bait, which skips across the water on the edge of the Gulf Stream current. It is hours of tedium and tension, interrupted by five minutes of pandemonium when the fish strike. The Atlantic sailfish are released to fight another day, and such conservation awareness seems to be increasing their population. Fish migration to warm waters means that the captains look for sailfish heading south and traveling in pods of two to 10.

As Uptight’s odyssey continues, three small dolphin fish (also called mahi mahi at your local restaurant) strike the live goggle-eyed herring at once. Captain Orange does not bother bringing them on board. “Dolphin are excellent eating. But today, they’re a nuisance,” he complains. The lines must be rigged and deployed again.

On the last day of the tournament, I’m reporting from a beautiful 58-foot Riviera, for sale for $1.8 million. The mood is more relaxed, and yacht brokers Roberto Prego and Robert Damas (of Florida Boats International) are showing the Australian-made boat to a client. But no sailfish. “I’m happy-go-lucky, but very competitive,” says Prego. The party drinks a little, fishes a little and laughs a lot. “We got shut out.” They did reel in dinner, a couple of small dolphin.

The winning team, from left: Brett Dudas (the angler), Capt. John Dudas and boat owner Warren Sands. Photo: Supersport.

But in the end it was Wound Up, a boat owned by Warren Sands and captained by John Dudas with his brother Brett, that won the contest and $92,300 by catching three fish in the last 20 minutes. The Dudases, charter boat captains, are a fishing dynasty of sorts. It was the third tournament win for Wound Up in 10 days. L & H, a boat populated by the David family of anglers, won several prizes adding up to $38,700 (including top female and top junior angler, 7-year-old Michael David).

Uptight did capture a prize, but it was in the “fun fish” category. The boat spent three hours hooked to a 69-pound yellowfin tuna, which meant they abandoned the search for the single sailfish. It was a consolation prize of $13,800. And a lot of sushi.

The million-dollar sailfish? It was as perishable a commodity as newly caught fish. Albelo will pay $500 to anyone who catches it in the future. And he’s cooking up something else for next year’s tournaments.

Heydari covered this event as a freelance broadcast journalist. Comments? E-mail letters@miamisunpost.com.