Tuna Time

How long ago was it that the powerful rumble of Detroit engines forced you to rub the sleep from your eyes? The miles tick by on the GPS as you close in on the tuna rich waters of the far side of the Gulfstream. Captain Barry’s easy chatting demeanor suddenly changes as he focuses his attention on the powerful radar, staring at the indeterminate blips and blebs looking for the blob which will correctly identify birds marking migrating Yellowfin Tuna.

Feeling the cool morning breeze on the flybridge you look at your fishing buddies as they look at Barry. Time passes… “Three miles” Barry shouts down to J.R. in the cockpit. Looking down, the cockpit has been transformed, with rods placed and lures ready to deploy. When did that happen?
“One mile!” What the heck?

Several long seconds pass before you are able to see the birds yourself. They are wheeling and dipping over a school of hungry Yellowfin. “Put ‘em out” yells the Captain, as the boat slows. Eight lines are laid out with practiced precision. Captain Barry carefully maneuvers alongside the melee careful not to spook the feeding frenzy.

Time slows to a crawl as you hear the shrieking birds over huge holes opening in the water. Your five buddies have appeared in the cockpit, and suddenly birds fan out across the wake and the closest bent butt 80 Penn International seems to come alive as a big tuna peels line at a tremendous rate. “Fish on” … “That’s two” as the second flat line hooks up. “Three on, four, now five…Full load…”

Suddenly your buddies and you are grunting, sweating and yelling as each labors to halt the disappearing monofilament from their reels. Twenty minutes pass and the first leader breaks water. J.R. takes two wraps and smoothly gaffs 70 pounds of silver, gold and yellow soon to be sushi that hits the deck and staccatto thumps his last as J.R. turns to handle the next leader.

You clamber up the ladder and collapse next to Barry as another big tuna slides over the rail. You have two simultaneous thoughts watching the chaos below; coffee and stale doughnuts are a good breakfast and you are selling your golf clubs. Sound like fun?
 

Port Canaveral, Florida
321.432.9839
CORZ1@bellsouth.net