Fishing out of Venezuela in 2005, back when Bubba Carter was running the Southpaw, having an absolute blast catching white marlin--the bite's on and we're in the double digits. Last day of the trip, first fish of the morning and my buddy Alberto wraps him up and gets ready to cut the leader. The white marlin jumps straight up in the air and lands like a lawn dart in the cockpit--his bill went in between the little black strips of the teak. He hung there for a second and then came crashing down, splintering about two inches off the end of his bill (the tip stayed in the deck). Our other mate jumped straight up like a cat on top of the transom fishbox to get out of the way.
We ended up opening the transom door so we could slide the marlin out. Once it was all over with, we just kinda stared at each other for a while, realizing we were pretty lucky not to have anyone hurt. I still have the piece of marlin bill.
That's my bony elbow to the left. The blood on the front of the fishbox was from the fish's broken bill--there's a surprising number of blood vessels and stuff in there.