DejaVu. As I hold lightly to Keegan’s arm, I am thinking, “here I am about to corrupt another young man, again”. Today I probably will flip the switch of his psyche and he will never be the same. As we make eye contact, I can see that the transition has already started. I see it in the way that he has become alert and switched on.

We are hanging at 20 feet, in clear warm water with bait all around us. As a nice blue trevally comes in I squeeze Keegan’s arm and indicate NO with a wave of my hand—Too small. I know that today is the day that this young man will be transformed. The mutation will be quick, within a few minutes and he will change like Superman from a mild mannered, musician, scientist, city dweller into a dedicated killer. I have made killers out of several young men as well as women. I have watched as the modern, politically correct, pacifist citizens are awakened to, and revert to, their primeval, instinctual drive of hunting, buried till now, but hard wired into their system. Some would never own up to this atavistic trait but in the right situation and to their surprise, it springs forth. Not everyone has the instinct but I can see from his eyes, and the way that Keegan holds the gun that he has never fired, that hunting blood runs in his veins from times long past. The final flip of the switch will come with the first successful pull of the trigger.

I am not the only guilty party in the corruption of this young man—my son-in-law, Kent Roper Smith is really responsible. Kent, an excellent diver with a lot of Cedros Island experience, decided to come visit me in Panama after being laid off from his biotech job. Then, his buddy Keegan Cooke’s biotech company folded up and another buddy Nigel Robson was without work. So they all decided that there must be some pay off to a lay off, and it might be a dive-adventure trip to Panama while they had the time. Keegan had never dived before so it would be a speed course for him. Nigel dives once every two years but due to his time in the South African military chasing the bad guys around the bush, he has developed hunting instincts and is a naturally good shot. So I will blame Kent for warping the psyche of his buddy Keegan, and getting him hooked on a new addiction——spearfishing—- because Kent is the one that invited him to join us.

For simplicity and safety we were going to dive with two guns only for the four of us. One diver goes down and the surface diver runs the flasher and scans. As the diver surfaces he exchanges the gun for the flasher and the other guy dives. The first day of Keegan’s Spearfishing Speed Course consisted of observing and then copying what he had seen, no shooting for him. This was warm up day for all of us and no big fish were landed but we all got on the board.

The second day was super and conditions were great for our long boat ride. We went to an awesome place that comes up from 150 feet to about 15 feet but with a raging current. At this place we could expect to see anything, but Bohala (Amberjack) and Pargo would be most likely. Because my marking buoy was not heavy enough for the current or long enough for the deep water we had trouble getting in at the right place so that the current would take us past the high spot. About half of the time the current would shoot us off to one side or other of the Bajo and we would see no sizable game.

On the first pass we were all in the water, but Nigel was about 10 or 15 feet behind us since he got off the boat last. As the current carried us toward the rock, we started seeing bait, then blue runners so the place looked fishy. Kent and I went down and a big bohala started to come up and check the flasher. Kent was waiting for a close kill shot and was just starting to line up the gun when “BAM”. We see a spear come from behind and under us, streak past us and stop about three feet short of the fish. Nigel Robson, behind us 15 feet, had gotten a little excited at seeing his first big fish of the trip and thought he had a rifle. After that we called him Long Range Robson, but the lesson was learned. Shoot before Nigel shoots.

Every pass was a new adventure and we all started to score. Kent shot a nice Pargo in 70 feet of water and it went in under the rocks. Since there was no way to penetrate against the current and have air to dive, we had the panga take us back up current for a team effort. With the high cost of a shaft and slip tip we really needed to get the shaft back, but it was deeper than we could dive. As we flew by at 40 feet we grabbed the float line, pulled and unbelievably the shaft came free and was not even bent. The Gods were on our side today. Kent followed up landing a nice Pargo of 46 lbs. and then a big Bohala over 40 lbs. Nigel and I scored on twin Bohala on different passes, his 64 lbs. and mine 63 lbs. It was great to watch these big fish in the clear water and we were waiting until we could see clearly the black line behind the eye to get a stone shot. On one pass I watched a brute bohala swim up out of deep water as I hung motionless at 30 feet and waited until the black line became distinct. “BAM”. Stone shot on a 67 lb. Bohala, my best yet. The average weight of our seven fish for this place was 53 lbs.

It was time to start the long run home and to take the trainee to some shallower water for a chance at his first fish. Keegan was excited from watching us shoot and land fish but he was a bit overwhelmed and nervous that he could not do it, or would do something wrong, a normal concern. We went to an awesome place that comes up from 80 feet and washes at the surface. I was in instructor mode with Keegan. We planned to drop to 20 feet together and I would stay at his side and indicate if it was a good fish and a good shot. We would pass close by the rock and I did not want him to drill it by mistake or shoot too far or too early.

As I held on to Keegan’s arm, I could see that he was really hoping that he could do this, since everyone else had shot fish. As we reached the rock a beautiful golden, red Pargo, which looked about 15 lbs. materialized out of nowhere and approached us to within ten feet. It was time to flip the switch on Keegan’s psyche. I pointed at the fish and nodded yes as the fish started down at an angle. The fished moved away and Keegan brought the gun to bear and just as I was ready to say Wait—out of range, he fired. It was a long; lob shot and hit the fish just before hitting the end of the shooting line. Too bad, I thought, the shot probably did not toggle and will pull out for sure when the fish runs in the rocks. Keegan went into hyper mode, doing his bicycle kick, choking, splashing, pulling in the line and burning 1000 calories a minute. Unbelievably he got the fish out of the rocks and as it came up, I could see that the point even toggled. I do believe in miracles. This new spearfisherman was glowing as he got the fish under control and dispatched it like a pro. He was in the TRIBE. As Keegan gazed at his first fish, shot with his first trigger pull, I could tell it was larger than I thought. I was as stoked as he was, remembering the rush of my first yellowtail. What a thrill. A proud, tired young man handed up his fish and we got out the scales. The Speardiving Speed Course was a success. Second day of diving ever, Keegan’s first trigger pull and first fish ever shot weighed in at 48 pounds.

I could see from the smile on his face “the switch had been flipped.” He was one of us now.

Dix Roper
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May 2003