This article was originally published in the May 28, 2009 edition of The Tampa Tribune and TBO.com. (Photo courtesy of the Florida Memory Project)
Just off the sandy white beaches in the aquamarine waters of Florida lurks a monster with a head as “wide as a truck” that could “eat a 200-lb tarpon in two bites.”
Or, so the legend has it.
Earlier this month, Port Charlotte’s Clyde “Bucky” Dennis pulled his second world-record, great hammerhead shark from the waters of Boca Grande.
The mammoth fish was 13 feet, 6 inches long and weighed in at 1,060 pounds. Dennis already owned the International Game Fish Association’s all-tackle record after he landed a hammerhead that weighed in at 1,280 pounds in 2006.
Many of Florida’s shark anglers would attest that those fish were mere minnows compared to Old Hitler.
The tales of Old Hitler, the 20-foot plus great hammerhead that supposedly roams the warm waters of the Gulf of Mexico between the Boca Grande Pass and Tampa Bay, have been passed down through Florida’s generations. From salty old anglers to recreational fishermen, everyone seems to have a tale about the legendary beast.
Although large sharks of all sizes call Florida’s waters home, no other species carries the mystique of the hammerhead, and with each monster sighting or record catch the legend of Old Hitler grows.
And as is the case with most local folklore, separating the fact from the fishtales can be a fruitless, if not fun, effort.
Spawning a mythology
The origin of the legends seems to have its roots in the deep channels of Boca Grande Pass. As with many tales of mythical creatures, the legend seems to gain credence from the geographical attributes of the region. The Pass is a small strip of waterway off of Gasparilla Island that connects Charlotte Harbor to the Gulf of Mexico. Several steep underwater ledges, some as deep as 75 feet, pockmark the pass and serve as a cauldron of activity for gigantic marine creatures.
During the 1950s and ’60s, Boca Grande was a major hub of Florida’s railroads and a major shipping port of several industries, including the local phosphate mines. The huge shipping vessels that traveled through the pass on a daily basis helped create an underwater channel on the harbor floor that would act as a funnel during the changing “hill” tides, pulling entire schools of baitfish and crustaceans into the pass and down into the deep ledges.
The abundance of food and available cover made it an ideal environment for large tarpon, which would crowd into the deep holes by the hundreds. The giant schools of tarpon then attract an even bigger predator, sharks.
Just like the dark murky waters of Loch Ness that fostered the imaginations of those looking for monsters, the deep ledges of Boca Grande, just a couple hundred yards from shore, offered a mysterious “what is down there?” atmosphere.
The legend grows
Although the exact origins of Old Hitler’s legend are likely lost in the annals of bait-shack folklore, as long as their have been sports fishermen seeking tarpon along the Gulf coast, there have been tales of those fishermen losing their trophy-sized silver kings to the dreaded jaws of a mythical creature.
As the Gulf coast of Florida began to become more populated, rumors of a giant hammerhead floated up and down the coast. It was purportedly so big that ship captains and fishermen would call the local coastguard to alert them to a German U-boat invading the harbor.
“Old Hitler happened to be the biggest, baddest hammerhead in the Pass during or shortly after WWII,” said long-time Charlotte tarpon guide Paul DeGaeta.
There have always been large sharks along Florida’s coast, but this one stood out. The legend revolved around one gigantic shark that had a large gash in its top fin, an injury it sustained after a rumored run-in with a mullet fisherman sometime in the early sixties. The fisherman struck the shark with a machete after the creature mauled a net full of fish and began bumping the 15-foot vessel with its flat head. The hammerhead swam away with the large knife still embedded in its dorsal fin.
It wouldn’t be the last time an angler had an encounter with a giant hammerhead.
Reel Animal’s Billy Nobles encountered a monster while fishing the Boquillia Invitational Tournament a few years ago.
“Lenny Caccippio hooked a fish, when she comes to the boat an 18′ hammerhead decides it’s lunch time. I fire wall the throttle, raising the bow of the boat up 3-4 feet, striking the hammerhead with the motor and spitting blood and mud out the back in the prop wash.”
DeGaeta recalled his own ‘Hitler encounter’ from 1982.
“I was surprised when I saw a huge fin appear in the boiling water, then a huge hammer surfaced. The shark’s dorsal fin was so long it flopped over. The shark bit a 100-pound plus tarpon mid-section and tossed it in the air the way a cat plays with a toy.”
Real life monsters
The waters off the west coast of Florida have a long history of producing hammerheads of man-eating, record-breaking proportion, especially from the Boca Grande area.
Bucky Dennis’ latest record shattered the 80-pound class tackle record that was set by Andy Whitbread in May 2006, also in Boca Grande Pass. That fish was a recorded 13 feet, 4 inches long and weighed 750 pounds.
During the 1982 Greater Suncoast Shark Tournament, Allen Ogle landed a 991-pound hammerhead off the coast of Sarasota.
Dennis’ first world record was a 14-½ foot, 1,280-pounder that he caught off the Pass in 2006. It was the largest hammerhead ever landed using a rod and reel.
In February of this year, an Illinois tourist pulled in a 16-foot, 950-pound fish off the coast of Key Biscayne.
The largest hammerhead ever pulled from these waters was a 17-foot, 1-inch, 1,386-pound monster that was caught using a chain, rope and an inflatable intertube off the Rod & Reel Pier on Anna Maria Island by Frank Cavendish and Ralph French in 1973. The shark, dubbed “Spiro,” was caught using a 14-pound manta ray as bait.
There have also been several documented reports of hammerheads of comparable, if not bigger, size along the Gulf.
On Feb.22, 1983, Coast Guard helicopter rescuers plucked Robert Jones and Carol Mobley from their stranded fishing boat after three days off the coast of Clearwater while being circled by a school of great hammerheads. Heavy waves and engine troubles had forced the pair to jettison over 300 pounds of grouper which attracted the sharks.
On Aug.7, 1999, Charlotte County Sheriff’s Office helicopter pilot Carl Burgerhoff had to land on the northern tip of Gasparilla Island to warn beachgoers after he spotted an estimated 15-foot hammerhead heading toward a group of young swimmers on an isolated stretch of beach.
A biological possibility?
The average lifespan of a great hammerhead is estimated to be 20 to 30 years, but they could live much longer.
“It is possible that they could live to be 70 years old or more, especially the larger ones,” says Mote Marine researcher Dr. Bob Hueter.
It is highly unlikely that the fish that spawned the legend of Old Hitler is the same fish still roaming these waters.
But is it possible that every few years, a different lunker of a shark moves in?
According to Dr. Hueter, “great hammerheads do show site fidelity. The suspicion is that the same fish return to this site every year following the schools of tarpon.”
“There are some big sharks that come in every year. Old Hitler is just the name given to the biggest of those hammerheads,” says guide Mark Futch, whose family has fished the waters of Boca Grande for “over a hundred years.”
But as long as hammerheads the size of fishing boats are spotted along Florida’s coast, the legend of Old Hitler will live on.
Remember that the next time you lose your hooked fish to the murky green waters of the Gulf of Mexico.