David,
I would even consider retiring that lure. I'll tell you story about a close friend of mine (unfortunately no longer with us) that may convince you to do so.
Bob was a legendary gladiator, a champion GT/trout slayer with countless feathers in his cap. He had so many scars, each a its own story, a badge of honour from a past victory. Over time, Bob became weary from the constant operations he endured to conceal the violence of battle.
Bob was both ambitious and greedy, always seeking that 'one last fish - the big one - the jewel in the crown'
As we arrived at a location known only as 'The G Spot', little did we know, a tragedy was unfolding. We had been fishing for much of the day, and Bob had landed some solid fish. It was getting late and the bait was starting to move - it was showtime.
After a few casts, Bob hooked up to a monster GT. After the opening flurry of what had been a clean, fair fight, the GT drove hard for a massive bommie, diving deep at a vicious pace. The drag was tightened and the spool palmed in a last ditch attempt to tame the juggernaut. With no side conceding any line, it was a tug of war, Man vs Fish. The tension was so great - something had to give - and when it did, it wasn't the fish.
Bob was dragged through the water into the depths and out of vision, I collapsed to my knees in disbelief, how could we lose Bob? We frantically searched the waters surrounding the boat, hoping he would miraculously re-surface. For 3 minutes we stared just hoping for a miracle, but it was not to be.
As we stared blankly at the horizon, a shout of excitement came from the rear of the boat, 'There he is, floating over there!' We quickly swung the boat around and dragged Bob from the water - we quickly checked for signs of injury - some scratches and puncture marks but all superficial. We couldn't believe it. Bob was gone for all money. It is so rare for someone to survive after such a long period underwater.
Despite what had just unfolded, Bob insisted that we continue to fish what was certain to be a hot bite - his stubbornness driving him to continue. When he hooked up to a similar size fish, we all feared the worst. True to form it happened again. As he disappeared into the depths a second time, we were certain we had lost him. Then, as happened before, Bob had miraculously escaped and was spotted him some 5 minutes later, drifting in the distance.
Seemingly unscathed, we had to do one last pass of the channel before heading home. After a handful of unsuccessful casts, a massive suicide cast over shallow reef was struck, and the water washed white in a fit of rage.
A shark had taken Bob, and was twisting viciously in the water tangling itself in the leader. As we neared the commotion, the line went slack, the line had been bitten off. The shark, still bound by the line continued to convulse on the surface. We could clearly see Bob being shredded in the jaws of the 1.5 metre reef shark as we approached. Then, in a moment of desperation, I lunged over the side of the boat in an attempt to grab the sharks tail and hurl it on board. As I outstretched my hand, the shark vanished with a couple of beats of its powerful tail....
Unlike the previous occasions, our friend the all-conquering cubera did not surface. His 'bobbing' days were over. Each day I thank my lucky star for the life he had - and the final battles in which he was so fortunate to participate.
Each expedition since that dark day, I remember Bob and I blame myself. Just like Andrew Johns or David Campese, I wish he had retired him that little bit earlier - so that the memory I keep is not of a sad demise into obscurity, but the greatness that once was.
Don't let it happen to you too David.
