J Watrous
Legend
I hear you. I’ve got a 7’6, 8’4, 8’6 (fiberglass) and a 7’6 (fiberglass) on the way.I'll take one of those plz. In a 7.5 to 8'. This 9 footer crap is not for me
Tuna 2024
- Thread starter SilverFly
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You could always order a Steffen Brothers 7'9" 10/11....it punches like a 12wt. Or if you know someone who's got a boat, you could use mine under strict supervision....I'll take one of those plz. In a 7.5 to 8'. This 9 footer crap is not for me
what did you get?
J Watrous
Legend
On second look it’s a 7’9” 10/11. It’s the Steffen blank you talked up being built out by a rod builder you turned me onto. Dude moves fairly slow so I’d forgotten the details.
Which reminds me that he’s also supposed to be building an 11’ 0wt glass rod for me and I haven’t gotten an update in months.
God damn, Shane needs to start giving Randy a kick back. The amount of 10/11s hes “sold” for him is ridiculous.
Also. 11’ 0wt glass rod? Tell me more.
Saturday, August 24th, tuna report: In my experience, the All Rivers boats generally head west or west southwest from Westport and troll over the continental slope about 30 miles from Westport. But today, we skirted Ocean Shores and headed north. The ride at the start was promising, but the offshore swell soon made it a very lumpy ride (and wet for those of us in the “vomit-comet” seats outside the cabin). We blasted past flocks of rhinoceros auklets and sooty shearwaters; flying shearwaters will often keep pace with the boat for many minutes for unknown reasons. We passed a humpback whale that was about to dive – nice fluke salute. And still we plowed / pounded on. I figured that we were close when we saw several commercial tuna trollers on the horizon. But we still continued motoring until we were almost 50 miles west northwest of Westport.
With four experienced fly anglers, it didn’t take long to have our lines in the water as we trolled at 3-5 knots. About 20 minutes later @dbaken sang out “fish on” and Nick put the boat into neutral. The other two anglers and I began to retrieve our flies on the “slide” and Cal, the mate, threw out a handful of anchovies in the hopes of keeping the school of tuna by the boat. We didn’t have any hits on the slide (a theme for this day) but Nick could see on the fish finder that the school was still with the boat. So, while @dbaken was deep in the task of pulling his fish into gaff range, we cast our flies around the boat and Cal kept them interested with the occasional anchovy. It didn’t take long before a freight-train slammed my fly and disappeared toward the horizon. And shortly after, one of the other anglers was hooked up too. Cal efficiently gaffed @dbaken's fish, then mine,
then the last. So, we had three albacore on the deck
which were transferred to the iced holding tanks. My fish came on a shock-and-awe tube fly which I fished all day. The hook was right in the corner of its mouth.
We made a few more casts but the school moved on and we started in on the troll again.
As Cal was cleaning up the carnage, he noted that one of the fish had regurgitated at least some of its breakfast. There was one 5”ish thin fish (saury?), a 2.5” squid, and a 5” squid. [And in light of the squid that I saw in some fish while they were being carked, perhaps someone should have switched to a squid pattern.]
None of the three prey items had any skin, reflecting the rapid pace of digestion in the endothermic digestive tract of tunas, such as albacore (along with endothermic swimming muscles).
Back on the troll, we went with a stretch with just a single fish at a time and relatively ineffective stops. At one point, a pod of what appeared to be pilot whales crossed our wake. We were all quite pleased that they weren’t interested in our flies as we were not sure that a 12 wt. was enough stick…
By late morning, the weather had dramatically improved. The forecast 5' waves and 10 knot winds were a fiction. The wind died, the swell laid down to almost glass, and the sun came out. After a mass divestment of excess clothing and application of sunscreen, we were ready for the rest of the day.
After a dry stretch, we hit a very productive stop. I was bit on the troll. With most of my fly line out and the boat at least initially moving, the first explosive run just burnt line off my reel deep into my backing. All tuna are work; tuna on the troll are even harder. Again, there may have been a nip or two on flies during the “slide” but no firm hookup. Cal kept up a periodic rain of anchovies and soon there were albacore rocketing around the boat picking them off. Cal gaffed my fish and I posed for a hero shot.
The other guys had picked up more fish casting and the back deck was just red with tuna blood. Blood dripping through the bilges attracted the attention of a 5-6’ blue shark.
He kept probing the blood trail. And he picked off some anchovies that had sought refuge near the boat. We had some concerns that he might grab a fly but that didn’t happen. However, the presence of the blue shark did spook the albacore in the end game when they were close to the boat. If the blue shark cruised by, a tuna that was almost in gaff range would dive down another 20-30’, lengthening the fight. In addition to the troll fish, I picked up another fish while casting on this stop.
Back on the troll, we had another dry spell where there were no birds to be seen and nothing messed with our flies. Periodically, each of us would retrieve our fly to ensure that it hadn’t been fouled. But there was surprisingly little debris in the water, likely reflecting the downwelling winds from the south that brought warm offshore water to the coast. [Versus upwelling winds from the north that would drive nearshore water (and debris) offshore to where we were and draw up cooler, nutrient-rich water along the coast.]
Suddenly, @Matt B and I had near simultaneous strikes on the troll. Once stopped, @Nick Clayton and @dbaken / @PhilR hooked up albacore from casts. With four hooked fish with minds of their own on where they wanted to go, there was huge potential for flyline macramé. But we managed to do the right “up and overs” or “down and unders” synchronized dancing to keep the lines from tangling. Cal was busy with his gaff.
He even managed to eventually gaff Nick’s fish (note his blue and green Seahawks fly).
As Nick pointed out in his earlier post, the fish appeared to become more lethargic/selective the longer the stop lasted. I wish that I had seen the fish that tried to “sip” Phil’s fly but I was on the other side of the boat at the time. The live-bait boats were having slower days and came over to fish in our area because we had active fish.
By mid-afternoon, our action slowed down. We would pick up a single fish on the troll but the stop would be fruitless. Finally, after staying out as late as we could, it was time to head back to the barn. But not before a group shot.
Per usual, it was a long ride back to the dock at Westport. Doug and I helped Cal bag up the 20 tuna that we had caught as he converted them to bellies and loins. All in all, a great trip with wonderful people.
Steve
With four experienced fly anglers, it didn’t take long to have our lines in the water as we trolled at 3-5 knots. About 20 minutes later @dbaken sang out “fish on” and Nick put the boat into neutral. The other two anglers and I began to retrieve our flies on the “slide” and Cal, the mate, threw out a handful of anchovies in the hopes of keeping the school of tuna by the boat. We didn’t have any hits on the slide (a theme for this day) but Nick could see on the fish finder that the school was still with the boat. So, while @dbaken was deep in the task of pulling his fish into gaff range, we cast our flies around the boat and Cal kept them interested with the occasional anchovy. It didn’t take long before a freight-train slammed my fly and disappeared toward the horizon. And shortly after, one of the other anglers was hooked up too. Cal efficiently gaffed @dbaken's fish, then mine,
then the last. So, we had three albacore on the deck
which were transferred to the iced holding tanks. My fish came on a shock-and-awe tube fly which I fished all day. The hook was right in the corner of its mouth.
We made a few more casts but the school moved on and we started in on the troll again.
As Cal was cleaning up the carnage, he noted that one of the fish had regurgitated at least some of its breakfast. There was one 5”ish thin fish (saury?), a 2.5” squid, and a 5” squid. [And in light of the squid that I saw in some fish while they were being carked, perhaps someone should have switched to a squid pattern.]
None of the three prey items had any skin, reflecting the rapid pace of digestion in the endothermic digestive tract of tunas, such as albacore (along with endothermic swimming muscles).
Back on the troll, we went with a stretch with just a single fish at a time and relatively ineffective stops. At one point, a pod of what appeared to be pilot whales crossed our wake. We were all quite pleased that they weren’t interested in our flies as we were not sure that a 12 wt. was enough stick…
By late morning, the weather had dramatically improved. The forecast 5' waves and 10 knot winds were a fiction. The wind died, the swell laid down to almost glass, and the sun came out. After a mass divestment of excess clothing and application of sunscreen, we were ready for the rest of the day.
After a dry stretch, we hit a very productive stop. I was bit on the troll. With most of my fly line out and the boat at least initially moving, the first explosive run just burnt line off my reel deep into my backing. All tuna are work; tuna on the troll are even harder. Again, there may have been a nip or two on flies during the “slide” but no firm hookup. Cal kept up a periodic rain of anchovies and soon there were albacore rocketing around the boat picking them off. Cal gaffed my fish and I posed for a hero shot.
The other guys had picked up more fish casting and the back deck was just red with tuna blood. Blood dripping through the bilges attracted the attention of a 5-6’ blue shark.
He kept probing the blood trail. And he picked off some anchovies that had sought refuge near the boat. We had some concerns that he might grab a fly but that didn’t happen. However, the presence of the blue shark did spook the albacore in the end game when they were close to the boat. If the blue shark cruised by, a tuna that was almost in gaff range would dive down another 20-30’, lengthening the fight. In addition to the troll fish, I picked up another fish while casting on this stop.
Back on the troll, we had another dry spell where there were no birds to be seen and nothing messed with our flies. Periodically, each of us would retrieve our fly to ensure that it hadn’t been fouled. But there was surprisingly little debris in the water, likely reflecting the downwelling winds from the south that brought warm offshore water to the coast. [Versus upwelling winds from the north that would drive nearshore water (and debris) offshore to where we were and draw up cooler, nutrient-rich water along the coast.]
Suddenly, @Matt B and I had near simultaneous strikes on the troll. Once stopped, @Nick Clayton and @dbaken / @PhilR hooked up albacore from casts. With four hooked fish with minds of their own on where they wanted to go, there was huge potential for flyline macramé. But we managed to do the right “up and overs” or “down and unders” synchronized dancing to keep the lines from tangling. Cal was busy with his gaff.
He even managed to eventually gaff Nick’s fish (note his blue and green Seahawks fly).
As Nick pointed out in his earlier post, the fish appeared to become more lethargic/selective the longer the stop lasted. I wish that I had seen the fish that tried to “sip” Phil’s fly but I was on the other side of the boat at the time. The live-bait boats were having slower days and came over to fish in our area because we had active fish.
By mid-afternoon, our action slowed down. We would pick up a single fish on the troll but the stop would be fruitless. Finally, after staying out as late as we could, it was time to head back to the barn. But not before a group shot.
Per usual, it was a long ride back to the dock at Westport. Doug and I helped Cal bag up the 20 tuna that we had caught as he converted them to bellies and loins. All in all, a great trip with wonderful people.
Steve
"If I know someone who has a boat"
HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I INVITED YOU NOW!?
Yeah I'd like to get one on the way, too. Problem is, the forum biz doesn't quite get me that kinda salary
SilverFly
Legend
"Switch"? That's what I start with and usually stick with!
J Watrous
Legend
NFC blank. For nymphing a 5x mono rig in places where trouts and winds are small but occasional significantly larger trouts occur. {/drift}
Some culinary notes:
This was from a section of one of the top loins on the yellowtail. The texture was noticeably much more firm than hamachi I like to get at sushi bars. Still great, but in all honesty, I still think albacore is superior. The hamachi I get at sushi bars is often much more rich, oily and tender.
Not sure if it's because the fish was on the smaller side compared to what might be at the market, or because the market fish are often actually a farm raised fish (yellowtail farming is a thing), or any number of other things, but it definitely didn't seem the same. Going to try the bottom loin next time to see if that texture is any different as it often can be with albacore.
Still excellent, so don't get me wrong there. I'll be excited to get as many of these as I can.
Additionally, I've realized all I need is a bluefin now to finish my Oregon offshore bingo card
I've got:
Albacore
Dorado
Yellowtail
Pacific Mackerel
Jack Mackerel
Unless we're counting yellowfin, opah and marlin, all of which are a "every few years you hear of one caught" kind of thing.
I've got:
Albacore
Dorado
Yellowtail
Pacific Mackerel
Jack Mackerel
Unless we're counting yellowfin, opah and marlin, all of which are a "every few years you hear of one caught" kind of thing.
SilverFly
Legend
Nope, you're missing Pacific Pomfret (says the jelly dude whose only PNW exotic is a pomfret). They are delicious BTW.
I’m excited about the chance of catching a yellowtail. I was looking at how to clean a hamachi and they were saying that it is called hamachi when the fish is about 8-10 pounds. The lower loin is cut into belly and belly loin.
Solid list. Mako?
Mako is probably the best "fish" I've eaten from the PNW.
I've never heard of a yellowfin caught up here. At least out of WA. Seen a few Opah brought back to the dock though, and there's always the miniscule chance of a stripey.
I like yellowtail quite a bit, but it has never blown me away like it seems to with lots of people. Granted I don't have a very sophisticated pallet, so it could be just me. I prefer albacore if I had to choose one. Plus, I think pickled eggs are the devil's snack, so there's that
I forgot to mention that I did put eyes on a yellowtail on Sunday. Trolled up to a log (it was bobbing vertically with only the top two feet out of the water) that I initially only turned to because at the distance and angle I first saw it at it looked like a rather large shark fin and I was curious what it was. Only realized it was a 12' or so log when I got close, and then I saw a single YT swim out from it. Knowing it was probably too late, we did stop on it, threw flies at it and my deckhand threw bait. That was exciting, but disappointing.
Going north is never our preference, just due to the angle running that way, but we do it a fair amount. In 2021 we ran north quite a bit, including a handful of fly trips. We typically only go that direction when fishing dictates it's the best, or only real option.
As you guys saw Saturday, the angle tends to suck except for the finest of ocean conditions. That slop we dealt with for the second half of our ride is barely an issue if we're running SW, but running smack into it was slow and bumpy even though it wasn't anything big or rough. Just the price of going that direction unfortunately.
Great report as usual Steve.
This pic is a perfect example of what I was poorly attempting to describe in my earlier post. By not bringing the lower half of the rod any higher than Randy has it here one can fight the fish with the butt of the rod where all the strength is, and avoid risking a snapped tip. Not only is this better for the life of the rod, it's also a much more effective method of landing these fish relatively quickly. The key is a short lift up to about the level he has in the pic, then a quick reel down till the tip touches the water, and repeat....quickly. Using this technique you can avoid risking the rod, but just as importantly it keeps the fish's head just tipped up. They are constantly circling, due to hook pressure in one side of their head or the other, and their inability to stop kicking their tail. By keeping their head tipped up just a bit with those short, quick pumps, you can kinda use their momentum against them and they'll basically circle up to the surface where they can be stuck with a gaff. The other disadvantage of a high lift with the tip in the air is that when an albacores head gets too high, nearing vertical, they tend to freak out and fight even harder.
A lot of rod breakages I've seen happen when the fish gets close. It's easy to get aggressive and get that tip too high in the air trying to pull it towards the boat, but the best way to go about it is to keep that lower half of the rod at a flatter angle, and always reel down to the fish rather than lift it up and pull towards the gaff. With fly rods the fish tend to be a bit tougher to reach with the gaff, but this can be compensated for by swinging the rod more parallel to the boat while reeling down to the fish.
All of this is easy to say for someone who catches albacore every day of the week, so I'm not trying to cast judgement on anyone. Albacore are different than any other species we fish for in the PNW so most people are going to try to fight them in the manner they are used to. I totally get it. Just trying to add some thoughts to the thread.
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