An Ocean County diver caught a record lobster in New Jersey on July 4

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As you sit around the grill this Fourth of July holiday, raise a glass to William Sharp, who caught the mother of all New Jersey lobsters that day in 2003.

He was diving on the sunken remains of the Almirante, an old banana ship that everyone knows as the “flour wreck,” a story in itself. The 370-foot freighter belonged to the United Fruit Co. and was sailing from New York to Colon, Panama, with a full hold.

On September 6, 1918, at 2 a.m., a Navy tanker crashed into the ship in heavy seas and thick fog off the southern coast of New Jersey. The Almirante sank within four minutes; five of the 105 crew and passengers were unable to escape, and all of its cargo was lost. For several days after the sinking, white foam washed ashore, leading to the mistaken belief that the ship was carrying flour for banana plantations. Its collector claimed that it was carrying produce.

As if that weren’t enough, during a submarine patrol in July 1942, at the start of World War II, an airship spotted the shape of the wreck from the air and reported it as possibly a German submarine. A Coast Guard cutter dropped five depth charges on the wreck, smashing it to pieces. It now lies in shards of steel scattered in 70 feet of water, nine miles off Absecon Inlet.

It was beneath one of these twisted steel plates that Sharp, a retired Navy shipyard worker, had his run-in with what would turn out to be a New Jersey state record lobster.

“It’s so confusing out there. You can only see 15 to 30 feet in front of you on a clear day,” said Sharp, now 71 and living where he has always lived, on a lagoon in the Mystic Islands section of Little Egg Harbor, or “the end of the world,” as he calls it.

Sharp spotted the lobster in its hiding place with a flashlight. But it was out of air. So he cut the rope from his dive reel and tied it to where the lobster was. He then followed its anchor rope to his boat called the Kitchen Table, aptly named because that’s where his friends would all sit in the winter, planning their dives and fishing trips.

Forty minutes later, with a tank of fresh air, Sharp went back down, following the line of his dive reel. The lobster was still there. He turned off the light, because bright light can scare the crustacean. Then he reached out and grabbed the giant lobster, trying not to get pinched by one of its huge claws.

“The lobster will stand up to defend itself and get stuck in there,” Sharp said. “You have to dig out the sand underneath.”

With the water murky from floating sand particles, Sharp won his water shot and surfaced with the largest lobster ever caught by a diver in New Jersey waters since the state began keeping records.

The lobster weighed 15 pounds, 3 ounces; its carapace, or body, measured 7½ inches. State Fish & Wildlife sent a marine scientist to Scott’s Bait & Tackle, where the lobster was certified, to investigate. A month later, Sharp’s find was crowned king of the lobsters.

Okay, it may not be the king of all lobsters, but its catch has become the official state record for lobster caught by a recreational fisherman or diver. The record may never be broken, either. New Jersey Fish & Wildlife eliminated the lobster category because it is illegal to fish lobsters that size recreationally these days. The shell cannot exceed 5¼ inches.

Although Sharp’s 15-pound lobster is the largest ever recorded by a diver in the state, American lobsters can be larger, although it is not common. The largest American lobster weighed 44 pounds and was caught off the coast of Nova Scotia in 1977. There is also a Maine legend that a 51.5-pound lobster was caught in 1926, but the mount was lost after being crushed during transport.

As for the fate of the lobster, Sharp ate it. But it was too big to cook in one go. It took him and a friend a week to finish it.

“I didn’t have a big enough pot. I had to eat it one claw at a time. I saved the pieces,” Sharp said.

He had the lobster’s shell, head and claws mounted. He keeps it on a shelf with other nautical items. Its red color has long since faded, the lobster’s backing is now beige.

When Jersey Shore native Dan Radel isn’t reporting the news, you can find him in a classroom at the university where he’s a history professor. Contact him @danielradelapp; 732-643-4072; [email protected].