i don't have any energy left to write a fishing report as I didn't sleep last 48 hours.
Here is Capt Dom's report.
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Today was one of those days with a full spectrum of crazy stuff and nasty weather, and to top it all off a very looong frustrating day. However, this day was not to be ruined by the pea soup fog, 3 plus foot rollers from multi directions, and a building NE wind and waves in the afternoon. Did I mention that we saw zero tuna all day long, and by 1:58 PM it was getting ridiculous. 30 miles from the dock, a few BIG Stellwagen striper releases and 2 alligator blues(Im talking 14-15 pounders) destined to become tilefish dinner, and the random dogfish on the jig were all we had to show for running from GH to the SWC, to PH, to Wood End, to SWC, to SEC, to east of SEC, back to PH, then just east. The run and gun game becomes simply a run game when charlie doesnt wanna show himself.
I actually debated even heading further east into the swell with the Northerlies brewin, but the sturdy Dusky handled the ride at 22 bumpy knots with minimal jarring and zero water. Lad I didnt stay and rot on the bank, because at 2PM everything chatnged. We had the first real signs of life, a few birds over nothing in particular, so I had the guys blind cast at some suspicious acting cartwheeling birds, and sure enough Kil looks at me and says real calmly, "oh yeah, tuna."......understatement of the year. A 1 hour and 20 minute battle then ensued at around 16-17 pounds of drag on a Saragosa 18000F with an extremely experienced angler on the rod. I had to stay on the sticks the entire time, and we never got closer than 20 feet, the top of the leader. I tried swinging in when Kil finally tired the fish somewhat to where it came up 20-30 yards away from the boat at the surface, bnut each time I tried getting in, the fish simply sounded and took another 30-100 yards at will. This occurred 4-5 times at the hour mark, then the fish got squirrelly and stayed deep and hot for a good ten minutes, going under the boat, near the props, up the bow, and back again, and there was nothing I could do at 2 different points in the fight when the fish went vertical. Thankfully Kil is pretty nimble and was able to point the rod at the fish and guide the line out several times until I could swing around or back the stern away for him. Epic battle to say the least, but the fish won its freedom when the leader finally snapped, and it was over.
The adrenaline levels, in combination with the pit in your stomach hammering dread of what could go wrong as the fight grew longer paled in comparison to the charge I got when I actually saw this monster from above. I have landed enough 70 inch fish in the past year to know an 80 plus inch monster when I see one. This fish was every bit of 330 plus, maybe even more as the girth looked immense in addition to the 7 foot length it was sporting. We actually had a very good chance of landing this pig, if it had just let us get near it when it was at the surface. The poon harpoon was ready to launch, but never got close enough to let it fly, and the fish was still peeling line at a good clip when it won its freedom.....amazingly strong animals. Kils dream of the 300 plus pound tuna on topwater gear will have to remain just that for now.....
It is battles like todays that make me the rabid addict that I am, and those fish I lse that keep me coming back for more, frothing at the mouth, day after day.
Rather than cry about it, I turned the boat towards some more bird activity, and we began casting again(Roger and me anyway, as Kil had enough for a bit) and I got hammered on the big OTI Komodo Popper on the 3rd cast. Call me Capt. Dropappotomus, as I couldnt keep the hooks in the fish, and away it swam. We continued to blind cast for an hour at no surface tuna, but good marks in the zone, and birds cartwheeling had me confident, when Roger came tight at 4:15. This fish got handled but good on the OTI sniper and the big Shimano Stella, and I sank the iron home on a nice lean 60 inch fish after only 8 minutes of fight time. Roger is a tall guy at 6 something, and absolutely burned this fish out with heavy drag and relentless up strokes with the long 8"6" rod, it circled only twice and rolled on its side, happy to be done with that ass whipping. Blood on the deck, vindication on the monster that wasnt to be and the day long torture; a sloppy, hour and a half wet ride home 30 miles from where we started the day 13 hours earlier, exhausted but elated from the overtime battle, and the sudden death victory.
Had to get one of those nice long winded reports out of my system. whew...


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