Albacore Tuna, Tuesday, 1 September 2026. Due to personnel availability issues, All Rivers had blocked fly-fishing tuna charters until September 1st. So, my team and I would be the first fly trip on All Rivers. [I know that Nick has taken fly groups out on his new boat, the Reel Electric.] Unfortunately, the three fly anglers that had originally agreed to join me had to bow out due to other priorities: surgery recovery, child-care changes, and work responsibilities. Fortunately, @Burt Dagger was able to fill one seat. The other two seats were vacant for too long until my neighbor and a friend of his agreed to join us. While both are avid salmon fishers, neither had much (any?) albacore fishing experience and neither of them were fly fishers. So, this would be a combined fly / gear trip, which has advantages and disadvantages.
The pre-trip forecast was pretty consistent in the lead-up: 5” swells, winds increasing during the day into the low teens, and partly cloudy skies. These conditions are reasonable. The forecast for the following day (Wednesday, September 2nd) were horrendous with gale-force conditions. In fact, you can see the contrast in conditions between Tuesday and Wednesday regarding wind speed
wind gusts,
and wave heights.
In fact, the brain trust at All Rivers had already cancelled trips on Wednesday and Thursday. This would be the first day off for the captains and mates in 62 days of daily fishing. Everyone was looking forward to some recharge time (but liked the spike in their bank accounts from the solid summer weather).
It was still dark when we boarded our boat, a Defiance 29’, at 5:30AM. Our captain today would be Ian and the deckhand was Cal. Cal was often Nick’s mate and has significant experience with flyfishing for albacore. Our gear was loaded, we signed the legal release (which I have NEVER read in all my trips…), and went through the required safety briefing. We stopped to pick up two scoops of live anchovies,
slowly motored through the marina, and started blasting off after turning the corner.
Ian directed us northwest from Westport. I would say that 80-90% of the time, the All Rivers fleet heads either west or southwest, even as far south as off the mouth of the Columbia River. They tend to only head north if the fishing in their usual spots had been slow (as had been the case when we talked to Ian and Cal about their success in recent days on the water).
As we headed out at 15-20 knots, the coastal fog hid the rising sun like a wall, but we could see blue skies to the west. Per usual, I took one of the outside seats and Burt Dagger took the other. Even though we were heading directly into the long-period swells, the trip out wasn’t too bad, just long. About three-quarters of the way out, we passed what I assume was a tuna troller. We saw abundant sea birds and two pods of frisky dolphins in the same area. I was hoping that we had reached our spot, but that wasn’t the case. In the end, we motored for 2.5 hours and ended up 76nm from Westport, ugghhh. We were west of Moclips and just off the continental slope.
Time to start fishing. In this mixed charter, Burt Dagger and I would deploy our fly roads laterally from the outside seats with most of our fly lines out. Burt Dagger started out with a small squid pattern and I was using a baitfish pattern.
Cal had mentioned that the albacore were not focusing on any one prey; their diet included lanternfish, Pacific saury, squid, and krill. My neighbor and his friend would be monitoring two inside conventional rods: one rigged with a cedar plug and the other with a greenish hootchie. So, we started our troll about 10:30AM. Another All Rivers boat, the Intrepid, was also fishing the same area.
It was dead quiet for the first half hour or so. Burt Dagger switched to a baitfish pattern after losing faith in his original squid fly. There wasn’t much radio chatter from other boats, reflecting the cold fishing. The boat motion was a bit of a challenge when moving around the deck. The long-period swells were from the northwest, while the wind waves were from the west at least initially. Therefore, the boat had a “corkscrew” motion. You had to be cognizant of sudden shifts of the boat when near the rail.
While there were birds flying around, none were indicative of tuna and we didn’t see any tuna surface activity. “The ocean is a desert with its life underground and a perfect disguise above.”
Finally, a tuna slammed my fly. I had a finger on the flyline; the fast-exiting line singed across my finger tip. I believe that Burt Dagger also hooked up either on the troll or soon into the “slide”.
As is typical, the tuna got deep into my backing before it was able to stop this initial run. I gradually recovered all the backing and most of the flyline. I saw a flash of silver and then it sprinted off again and sounded, costing me most of the hard-won flyline. Continuing my organ-grinder routine, I eventually got the fish close, Cal swing the gaff and connected, and my first fish was in the boat. Burt Dagger’s fish joined the pile.
He then moved up to the bow for the additional casting room.
The two non-fly anglers were fishing live-bait and hooked up on the stop and eventually landed their fish.
Ian and Cal had more live anchovies ready to go and the non-fly guys were into a second round of fish. I tried to pick up a fish on the retrieve, but the casting space was restricted and the fish weren’t willing to come up close to the surface for my fly. A problem with a mixed trip is that the braided lines that All Rivers spools on their rods is deadly on a fly line if two hooked tuna decide the intertwine. Cal stowed the 7-8 fish from that stop
into the fish holds, added ice, and began to wash off the splattered blood from around the boat and us.
We got back on the troll. After about 15 minutes, Burt Dagger’s rod was hit (this fish might have gotten off). I tried to pick an albacore up on the slide, but no luck for me. The non-fly guys proceeded to pick up several fish each as the fish finder showed many fish under the boat. The absolute highlight of this stop occurred when Burt Dagger managed to hook up a fish on the strip from the bow just when Ian was about to call the stop and get us back on the troll. Burt Dagger moved from the bow to the stern to fight the fish and Cal eventually brought it in with the gaff.
Back on the troll, conditions were quiet for at least a half hour. My rod went off and at the same time, an albacore smashed the cedar plug. My fish decided to head to the horizon and my reel was singing. Deep into my backing, I stopped the initial run and started to reel the fish in when my line went slack. The fish got off… I retrieved everything, including the fly; just a weak hook-up, I guess. After a good battle, the fish that hit the cedar plug hit the deck. The bait anglers, assisted by Ian and Cal, steadily added tuna to the bloody pile on the deck. I had a good solid spot for casting, but I just couldn’t bring a fish to take my fly on the retrieve (nothing worked: not fast retrieve, not slow retrieve, not deep, not shallow.).
Back on the troll, the fishing went quiet for over an hour. The winds were increasing and clouds were coming in. Dead, dead, dead. It is not unusual to have a lull in the fishing just after noon. I assume that the albacore are taking a siesta. Finally, Ian called it at 2:00 as we still had a long way to go back to the barn.
All in all, we had a solid day, 23 tuna in the boat.
The catch included a mixture of sizes, some toads in the 25lb range and some peanuts in the low teens.
Our buddy boat, the Intrepid, did about the same as we did. Both boats that fished this northwest location had done better than the catch of the All Rivers boats the previous several days and radio reports indicated that the boats who went southwest this day also found poor fishing. So, the long ride out was worth it, but we hadn’t paid the full price of heading north just yet.
Ian put the pedal down on the trip back, typically in the 20-24knot range. Usually, the trip back to Westport with the swell at our back is easy peasy, albeit long, long, long. Cal set up to cark the albacore in pretty rough conditions. I am always impressed at how the mates can work their knives to process the fish under these conditions.
Cal finished up the fish processing and initial wash down of the boat and settled into the cabin. As the winds continued to switch directions from west to south, the conditions deteriorated badly for the ride back. And it didn’t help that Ian had to push to boat to make it back to dock before 4:30PM. The 5ft. regular northwest swells shouldn’t have been a problem, but the swell combined the messy wind waves made for a very jarring ride. My back was still feeling it Wednesday morning.
All in all, a solid trip. My neighbor, his friend, and Burt Dagger all enjoyed deep immersion into this albacore fishing experience. We got the trip in before a gale blew in.
Steve
P.S. We experienced solid marine mammal and bird diversity. On the trip out, Burt Dagger and I saw two schools of dolphins moving quickly off the boat on our trip out. He also saw at least one whale breach The birds were quite diverse, especially the tube snouts (Procellariiformes). As we headed offshore, we encountered multiple flocks of sooty shearwaters. Several adult black-footed albatrosses crossed our path on the trip out and soared in our wake while we were on the troll; their wing span, 6 - 8 ft., is so impressive . My neighbor’s friend is also a birder and he identified a Butler’s shearwater and a Northern fulmar while we were trolling. I saw a storm petrel as well on the way out, likely a Leach’s storm petrel. A real oddity, early on the trip back to Westport we passed a hen mallard (or juvenile) bobbing in the waves 30+ miles offshore…. That bird was lost, lost, lost. While in transit and on the troll, we encountered phalaropes, either singly or in small flocks. We also encountered several members of the family Laridae (gulls, terns, skuas, and jaegers). A solitary black-headed Sabine’s gull checked out the spread of flies and lures that we were trolling. A tern, possibly an Arctic tern, also dove down repeatedly for a closer look at our “baits”. It also picked some tiny morsels stirred up in the white foamy wake. The highlight were three parasitic jaegers that made multiple passes around the boat while we were on the troll.
[One VERY annoying aspect of flyfishing for albacore versus lure-fishing for albacore is that as a fly fisher, I have to hold my rod always while on the troll. The lure rods fit well in the rod holders built into the boat while on the troll. So, if an interesting bird comes into view while I have my fly out in the wake, I have to have someone else (aka, the mate) hold my rod while I grab my camera or I have to reel in and grab my camera before the bird disappears. I have looked for a fly rod holder that would work with heavy 12 wt rods and that would hold the rod after an albacore smashed the fly and headed off to the horizon. On the other hand, there is a special thrill to be holding the rod on the strike.]
The pre-trip forecast was pretty consistent in the lead-up: 5” swells, winds increasing during the day into the low teens, and partly cloudy skies. These conditions are reasonable. The forecast for the following day (Wednesday, September 2nd) were horrendous with gale-force conditions. In fact, you can see the contrast in conditions between Tuesday and Wednesday regarding wind speed
wind gusts,
and wave heights.
In fact, the brain trust at All Rivers had already cancelled trips on Wednesday and Thursday. This would be the first day off for the captains and mates in 62 days of daily fishing. Everyone was looking forward to some recharge time (but liked the spike in their bank accounts from the solid summer weather).
It was still dark when we boarded our boat, a Defiance 29’, at 5:30AM. Our captain today would be Ian and the deckhand was Cal. Cal was often Nick’s mate and has significant experience with flyfishing for albacore. Our gear was loaded, we signed the legal release (which I have NEVER read in all my trips…), and went through the required safety briefing. We stopped to pick up two scoops of live anchovies,
slowly motored through the marina, and started blasting off after turning the corner.
Ian directed us northwest from Westport. I would say that 80-90% of the time, the All Rivers fleet heads either west or southwest, even as far south as off the mouth of the Columbia River. They tend to only head north if the fishing in their usual spots had been slow (as had been the case when we talked to Ian and Cal about their success in recent days on the water).
As we headed out at 15-20 knots, the coastal fog hid the rising sun like a wall, but we could see blue skies to the west. Per usual, I took one of the outside seats and Burt Dagger took the other. Even though we were heading directly into the long-period swells, the trip out wasn’t too bad, just long. About three-quarters of the way out, we passed what I assume was a tuna troller. We saw abundant sea birds and two pods of frisky dolphins in the same area. I was hoping that we had reached our spot, but that wasn’t the case. In the end, we motored for 2.5 hours and ended up 76nm from Westport, ugghhh. We were west of Moclips and just off the continental slope.
Time to start fishing. In this mixed charter, Burt Dagger and I would deploy our fly roads laterally from the outside seats with most of our fly lines out. Burt Dagger started out with a small squid pattern and I was using a baitfish pattern.
Cal had mentioned that the albacore were not focusing on any one prey; their diet included lanternfish, Pacific saury, squid, and krill. My neighbor and his friend would be monitoring two inside conventional rods: one rigged with a cedar plug and the other with a greenish hootchie. So, we started our troll about 10:30AM. Another All Rivers boat, the Intrepid, was also fishing the same area.
It was dead quiet for the first half hour or so. Burt Dagger switched to a baitfish pattern after losing faith in his original squid fly. There wasn’t much radio chatter from other boats, reflecting the cold fishing. The boat motion was a bit of a challenge when moving around the deck. The long-period swells were from the northwest, while the wind waves were from the west at least initially. Therefore, the boat had a “corkscrew” motion. You had to be cognizant of sudden shifts of the boat when near the rail.
While there were birds flying around, none were indicative of tuna and we didn’t see any tuna surface activity. “The ocean is a desert with its life underground and a perfect disguise above.”
Finally, a tuna slammed my fly. I had a finger on the flyline; the fast-exiting line singed across my finger tip. I believe that Burt Dagger also hooked up either on the troll or soon into the “slide”.
As is typical, the tuna got deep into my backing before it was able to stop this initial run. I gradually recovered all the backing and most of the flyline. I saw a flash of silver and then it sprinted off again and sounded, costing me most of the hard-won flyline. Continuing my organ-grinder routine, I eventually got the fish close, Cal swing the gaff and connected, and my first fish was in the boat. Burt Dagger’s fish joined the pile.
He then moved up to the bow for the additional casting room.
The two non-fly anglers were fishing live-bait and hooked up on the stop and eventually landed their fish.
Ian and Cal had more live anchovies ready to go and the non-fly guys were into a second round of fish. I tried to pick up a fish on the retrieve, but the casting space was restricted and the fish weren’t willing to come up close to the surface for my fly. A problem with a mixed trip is that the braided lines that All Rivers spools on their rods is deadly on a fly line if two hooked tuna decide the intertwine. Cal stowed the 7-8 fish from that stop
into the fish holds, added ice, and began to wash off the splattered blood from around the boat and us.
We got back on the troll. After about 15 minutes, Burt Dagger’s rod was hit (this fish might have gotten off). I tried to pick an albacore up on the slide, but no luck for me. The non-fly guys proceeded to pick up several fish each as the fish finder showed many fish under the boat. The absolute highlight of this stop occurred when Burt Dagger managed to hook up a fish on the strip from the bow just when Ian was about to call the stop and get us back on the troll. Burt Dagger moved from the bow to the stern to fight the fish and Cal eventually brought it in with the gaff.
Back on the troll, conditions were quiet for at least a half hour. My rod went off and at the same time, an albacore smashed the cedar plug. My fish decided to head to the horizon and my reel was singing. Deep into my backing, I stopped the initial run and started to reel the fish in when my line went slack. The fish got off… I retrieved everything, including the fly; just a weak hook-up, I guess. After a good battle, the fish that hit the cedar plug hit the deck. The bait anglers, assisted by Ian and Cal, steadily added tuna to the bloody pile on the deck. I had a good solid spot for casting, but I just couldn’t bring a fish to take my fly on the retrieve (nothing worked: not fast retrieve, not slow retrieve, not deep, not shallow.).
Back on the troll, the fishing went quiet for over an hour. The winds were increasing and clouds were coming in. Dead, dead, dead. It is not unusual to have a lull in the fishing just after noon. I assume that the albacore are taking a siesta. Finally, Ian called it at 2:00 as we still had a long way to go back to the barn.
All in all, we had a solid day, 23 tuna in the boat.
The catch included a mixture of sizes, some toads in the 25lb range and some peanuts in the low teens.
Our buddy boat, the Intrepid, did about the same as we did. Both boats that fished this northwest location had done better than the catch of the All Rivers boats the previous several days and radio reports indicated that the boats who went southwest this day also found poor fishing. So, the long ride out was worth it, but we hadn’t paid the full price of heading north just yet.
Ian put the pedal down on the trip back, typically in the 20-24knot range. Usually, the trip back to Westport with the swell at our back is easy peasy, albeit long, long, long. Cal set up to cark the albacore in pretty rough conditions. I am always impressed at how the mates can work their knives to process the fish under these conditions.
Cal finished up the fish processing and initial wash down of the boat and settled into the cabin. As the winds continued to switch directions from west to south, the conditions deteriorated badly for the ride back. And it didn’t help that Ian had to push to boat to make it back to dock before 4:30PM. The 5ft. regular northwest swells shouldn’t have been a problem, but the swell combined the messy wind waves made for a very jarring ride. My back was still feeling it Wednesday morning.
All in all, a solid trip. My neighbor, his friend, and Burt Dagger all enjoyed deep immersion into this albacore fishing experience. We got the trip in before a gale blew in.
Steve
P.S. We experienced solid marine mammal and bird diversity. On the trip out, Burt Dagger and I saw two schools of dolphins moving quickly off the boat on our trip out. He also saw at least one whale breach The birds were quite diverse, especially the tube snouts (Procellariiformes). As we headed offshore, we encountered multiple flocks of sooty shearwaters. Several adult black-footed albatrosses crossed our path on the trip out and soared in our wake while we were on the troll; their wing span, 6 - 8 ft., is so impressive . My neighbor’s friend is also a birder and he identified a Butler’s shearwater and a Northern fulmar while we were trolling. I saw a storm petrel as well on the way out, likely a Leach’s storm petrel. A real oddity, early on the trip back to Westport we passed a hen mallard (or juvenile) bobbing in the waves 30+ miles offshore…. That bird was lost, lost, lost. While in transit and on the troll, we encountered phalaropes, either singly or in small flocks. We also encountered several members of the family Laridae (gulls, terns, skuas, and jaegers). A solitary black-headed Sabine’s gull checked out the spread of flies and lures that we were trolling. A tern, possibly an Arctic tern, also dove down repeatedly for a closer look at our “baits”. It also picked some tiny morsels stirred up in the white foamy wake. The highlight were three parasitic jaegers that made multiple passes around the boat while we were on the troll.
[One VERY annoying aspect of flyfishing for albacore versus lure-fishing for albacore is that as a fly fisher, I have to hold my rod always while on the troll. The lure rods fit well in the rod holders built into the boat while on the troll. So, if an interesting bird comes into view while I have my fly out in the wake, I have to have someone else (aka, the mate) hold my rod while I grab my camera or I have to reel in and grab my camera before the bird disappears. I have looked for a fly rod holder that would work with heavy 12 wt rods and that would hold the rod after an albacore smashed the fly and headed off to the horizon. On the other hand, there is a special thrill to be holding the rod on the strike.]
