This was my last scheduled tuna trip for this season (probably). But in the run up to departure things were a little nervous as two folks had to back out and I had seats to fill. But Kyle, a work friend of @SilverFly, agreed to take one of the seats. With four days to go, I still had a seat to fill. But when I got back to Westport from a tuna trip on Tuesday, I had a call from Abigail, a friend of @adamcu280 (thank you) offering to fill the seat and also two messages from folks on on NWFlyfishing, including one from @dbaken. It never rains but it pours… Trying to be fair, I checked that everyone was happy with a 5-person group (a bit crowded vs our normal 4-person teams, but cheaper per angler) and @dbaken would join me, @SilverFly, Abigail, and Kyle. @SilverFly and I were the only ones of the five who had flyfished for albacore; the others were mostly trout fishers. But everyone has to start and they were all game for the challenge.
At our departure time, we made our introductions, including Calan, Nick’s 3rd different mate in 3 trips. We stowed our gear, took our spots on the boat (with me outside in the air to help keep my stomach happy), and we were off on a foggy morning. As it was a Saturday on a holiday weekend, the harbor was quite busy even at 5:30AM, but Nick had us first at the bait dock where Calan loaded three brails of anchovies.
We headed out into the fog heading due west. Offshore, the fog lifted somewhat but we still had cloudy skies. For some weird reason, another charter boat shadowed us in our wake for at least a half hour, rightfully pissing Nick off. Along the way, we encountered a zone where large flocks of shearwaters (mostly sooty and a few pink-footed) were flying in the same direction as the boat. They kept pace with us while we cruised west at 15-20 knots for several minutes. We also encountered with the occasional passing albatross and some storm petrels. Even though we were really moving (probably 20ish knots), a pair of Pacific white-sided dolphins played in the wake for about 30 seconds before veering off.
After over two hours pounding into the swells, we reached the area where we would be fishing, about 50 miles west of Westport. We experienced a 4-foot swell at 9s from the north and 1-2’ wind waves driven by mid-single-digit winds (and therefore some whitecaps) from the southwest. A bit of rocking and rolling, but not a bad sea at first. However, conditions would deteriorate during the day as the wind velocities (and wind waves) increased to the lower teens out of the south.
The other fishers deployed their flies and lines. While I was still rigging my rod with a black over white shock-and-awe, we had the first hit of the day, but the fish got off. I joined the team and we were back on the troll again. It requires a bit of coordination to have five fly lines deployed to avoid tangling, especially on turns, but we never had any conflicts.
I don’t remember who hooked up first, but they had a fish on and we stopped while the fish was fought. After the typical hard fight, the fish was gaffed and we were back on the troll. After a while, we had another troll hit; this fish, if I remember correctly, got off in the end. But I had a hard strike on the slide and hooked up. This fish screamed off deep into my backing. I kept up the battle and managed to recover the backing and the running line portion of my fly line. But then the line went slack. Reel, reel, reel. Tension on the line. The fish is still there. And then it wasn’t. I recovered the sinking head of the fly line and even the fly. But when I looked more carefully, the hook on the tube fly was missing and the end of the leader was curley-cued. Crap, operator-error…. I had neglected to properly tie the knot to the hook and the fish got off. But at least, I got the fly back and was far more careful when tying on a replacement hook.
There were still albacore around the boat and several folks went up to the bow to cast. A fish grabbed Abigail’s fly and really worked her over. She was having a hard time making any progress.
Unlike trout, an albacore isn’t going to tire (at least during the time of a charter). You have to force them in. Nick was pretty sure that that the fish was tail wrapped, but if it was, it came free. During the battle, a blue shark even cruised by to see what was happening, leading the albacore to zoom off. But Abigail persevered and eventually landed her first albacore with a huge smile on her face.
This was an exciting bait stop that went on and on. We had fish in shallow water crashing around the boat for many minutes, as albacore zoomed after anchovies that the mate and Nick threw over the side. I made a cast off the starboard corner and let my fly sink for a few seconds. They threw over some anchovies, and I started stripping my fly in. I had just an amazing strike. It was “fish on” and this one was stuck good. This was a bit of a different fight because most of the fly line was already on the reel and the fish didn’t have a chance to do the typical screaming first run with the backing. That didn’t mean that the fight was easy. I was making good progress recovering the running line portion of my fly line and I thought that this might be a quick fight. But then the fish made a mad dash and got me into the start of my backing. When a fish is still spunky, you have to be careful because the reel handle spins like a centrifuge. They don’t call them knuckle-buster for nothing. But when an albacore is just bulldogging under the boat, you have to keep the pressure on it. I have learned to use the crest of a passing wave to force the fish to move up in the water column and then reel down as the boat moves into the trough. Short continuous pumps, no quarter. That kept the fish moving slowly, relentlessly, painfully, toward me. Per usual, the fish kept playing games in the stern, moving from one side of the boat to the other, forcing me to guide the fly line around the motors twice. But finally, I could see a flash of silver and the end was in sight. I finally forced the fish to the surface and Calan was able to sink the gaff as it circled around. Game, set, and match to me.
With fish still zooming around us, Nick went up to the bow and cast out a popper, while I was fighting my fish. After a few casts, he had a fish on, fought it, and landed it. I kept roll-casting out my shock-and-awe into areas where I could see tuna boiling and streaking by as they attacked the anchovies that Calan tossed out periodically. I was waiting for one fish to crash my fly, but alas. [What I should have done, idiot, was put my GoPro under water for some video of the fish flashing by and grabbing the anchovies that were being tossed in the water.]. Nick offered Abigail his popper rod and it wasn’t long before she hooked up. She fought it for a while, but it came off. We kept working this spot and though there were fish around and they would even hit a live anchovy skittering across the surface, they just weren’t going for our flies as all.
So, we went back on the troll. I had every expectation that we would run into similar situations later (hence my reluctance to put down my rod in favor of one of the four cameras that I had with me) and perhaps we might even come across birds shadowing moving tuna as I had experienced on Tuesday. But, alas, the rising winds, into the low teens, created a really messy sea and lots of white caps. That appeared to really put the kybosh on surface feeding and the fishing really slowed down.
After 20+ minutes of quiet trolling, another rod buries and it is fish on. He battled it for a bit and we finally boated it. But there were no albacore on the fish-finder and so we went back on the troll. So, now six fish in the boat.
After a long quiet period with several fly checks, I had a firm hit on the troll and the fish stuck. I put the screws to it and landed it after a good battle. Calan took a picture and we went back on the troll.
@dbaken went into the cabin to eat some lunch and Calan was holding his fly rod when another singlet albacore grabbed the fly and it was fish on. Calan had never fished a flyrod before and he had a blast fighting the fish on the fly rod. He did a good job in the battle and it was soon gaffed and in the box, his first fly-rod albacore.
The weather continued to deteriorate. From my sitting position at the starboard corner of the stern rail, I had more than one wind wave come over the side and slap me in the ass. All-Rivers ended up cancelling the trips for the next day, Sunday, due to high winds. And the fishing was dead for the next hour or so. We finally had to call it about 2PM with a 2+-hour trip back to the barn.
All-in-all a solid tuna season (all 3 trips in 11 days of it), albeit with fewer photographs and video of the action than I had hoped.
Steve
At our departure time, we made our introductions, including Calan, Nick’s 3rd different mate in 3 trips. We stowed our gear, took our spots on the boat (with me outside in the air to help keep my stomach happy), and we were off on a foggy morning. As it was a Saturday on a holiday weekend, the harbor was quite busy even at 5:30AM, but Nick had us first at the bait dock where Calan loaded three brails of anchovies.
We headed out into the fog heading due west. Offshore, the fog lifted somewhat but we still had cloudy skies. For some weird reason, another charter boat shadowed us in our wake for at least a half hour, rightfully pissing Nick off. Along the way, we encountered a zone where large flocks of shearwaters (mostly sooty and a few pink-footed) were flying in the same direction as the boat. They kept pace with us while we cruised west at 15-20 knots for several minutes. We also encountered with the occasional passing albatross and some storm petrels. Even though we were really moving (probably 20ish knots), a pair of Pacific white-sided dolphins played in the wake for about 30 seconds before veering off.
After over two hours pounding into the swells, we reached the area where we would be fishing, about 50 miles west of Westport. We experienced a 4-foot swell at 9s from the north and 1-2’ wind waves driven by mid-single-digit winds (and therefore some whitecaps) from the southwest. A bit of rocking and rolling, but not a bad sea at first. However, conditions would deteriorate during the day as the wind velocities (and wind waves) increased to the lower teens out of the south.
The other fishers deployed their flies and lines. While I was still rigging my rod with a black over white shock-and-awe, we had the first hit of the day, but the fish got off. I joined the team and we were back on the troll again. It requires a bit of coordination to have five fly lines deployed to avoid tangling, especially on turns, but we never had any conflicts.
I don’t remember who hooked up first, but they had a fish on and we stopped while the fish was fought. After the typical hard fight, the fish was gaffed and we were back on the troll. After a while, we had another troll hit; this fish, if I remember correctly, got off in the end. But I had a hard strike on the slide and hooked up. This fish screamed off deep into my backing. I kept up the battle and managed to recover the backing and the running line portion of my fly line. But then the line went slack. Reel, reel, reel. Tension on the line. The fish is still there. And then it wasn’t. I recovered the sinking head of the fly line and even the fly. But when I looked more carefully, the hook on the tube fly was missing and the end of the leader was curley-cued. Crap, operator-error…. I had neglected to properly tie the knot to the hook and the fish got off. But at least, I got the fly back and was far more careful when tying on a replacement hook.
There were still albacore around the boat and several folks went up to the bow to cast. A fish grabbed Abigail’s fly and really worked her over. She was having a hard time making any progress.
Unlike trout, an albacore isn’t going to tire (at least during the time of a charter). You have to force them in. Nick was pretty sure that that the fish was tail wrapped, but if it was, it came free. During the battle, a blue shark even cruised by to see what was happening, leading the albacore to zoom off. But Abigail persevered and eventually landed her first albacore with a huge smile on her face.
This was an exciting bait stop that went on and on. We had fish in shallow water crashing around the boat for many minutes, as albacore zoomed after anchovies that the mate and Nick threw over the side. I made a cast off the starboard corner and let my fly sink for a few seconds. They threw over some anchovies, and I started stripping my fly in. I had just an amazing strike. It was “fish on” and this one was stuck good. This was a bit of a different fight because most of the fly line was already on the reel and the fish didn’t have a chance to do the typical screaming first run with the backing. That didn’t mean that the fight was easy. I was making good progress recovering the running line portion of my fly line and I thought that this might be a quick fight. But then the fish made a mad dash and got me into the start of my backing. When a fish is still spunky, you have to be careful because the reel handle spins like a centrifuge. They don’t call them knuckle-buster for nothing. But when an albacore is just bulldogging under the boat, you have to keep the pressure on it. I have learned to use the crest of a passing wave to force the fish to move up in the water column and then reel down as the boat moves into the trough. Short continuous pumps, no quarter. That kept the fish moving slowly, relentlessly, painfully, toward me. Per usual, the fish kept playing games in the stern, moving from one side of the boat to the other, forcing me to guide the fly line around the motors twice. But finally, I could see a flash of silver and the end was in sight. I finally forced the fish to the surface and Calan was able to sink the gaff as it circled around. Game, set, and match to me.
With fish still zooming around us, Nick went up to the bow and cast out a popper, while I was fighting my fish. After a few casts, he had a fish on, fought it, and landed it. I kept roll-casting out my shock-and-awe into areas where I could see tuna boiling and streaking by as they attacked the anchovies that Calan tossed out periodically. I was waiting for one fish to crash my fly, but alas. [What I should have done, idiot, was put my GoPro under water for some video of the fish flashing by and grabbing the anchovies that were being tossed in the water.]. Nick offered Abigail his popper rod and it wasn’t long before she hooked up. She fought it for a while, but it came off. We kept working this spot and though there were fish around and they would even hit a live anchovy skittering across the surface, they just weren’t going for our flies as all.
So, we went back on the troll. I had every expectation that we would run into similar situations later (hence my reluctance to put down my rod in favor of one of the four cameras that I had with me) and perhaps we might even come across birds shadowing moving tuna as I had experienced on Tuesday. But, alas, the rising winds, into the low teens, created a really messy sea and lots of white caps. That appeared to really put the kybosh on surface feeding and the fishing really slowed down.
After 20+ minutes of quiet trolling, another rod buries and it is fish on. He battled it for a bit and we finally boated it. But there were no albacore on the fish-finder and so we went back on the troll. So, now six fish in the boat.
After a long quiet period with several fly checks, I had a firm hit on the troll and the fish stuck. I put the screws to it and landed it after a good battle. Calan took a picture and we went back on the troll.
@dbaken went into the cabin to eat some lunch and Calan was holding his fly rod when another singlet albacore grabbed the fly and it was fish on. Calan had never fished a flyrod before and he had a blast fighting the fish on the fly rod. He did a good job in the battle and it was soon gaffed and in the box, his first fly-rod albacore.
The weather continued to deteriorate. From my sitting position at the starboard corner of the stern rail, I had more than one wind wave come over the side and slap me in the ass. All-Rivers ended up cancelling the trips for the next day, Sunday, due to high winds. And the fishing was dead for the next hour or so. We finally had to call it about 2PM with a 2+-hour trip back to the barn.
All-in-all a solid tuna season (all 3 trips in 11 days of it), albeit with fewer photographs and video of the action than I had hoped.
Steve
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