8/12 - Beyond Catching

[backman]

Trip 80 was a strange one; a trip that woke me at 3 this morning to replay what was seen, what was done and what should have been done. On one hand; its opportunity lost; on the other hand, if you are past catching – it was the experience of a decade.

Lets start with a frenetic and confused and late departure into what was supposed to have been a dying northwest wind. Never believe a northerly will let go as predicted. Write that one again into the logbook of experience known and experience relearned.

While we had a nice downsea run for 4 hours, ending up about 5 miles above the edge; we found a NW 10-15, and steady 3’ sea as we trolled south. The plan had been to hit the wall between East Atlantis and Veatch and work east towards Veatch. That plan changed when we hit 500’ just north and east of East Atlantis and found the whales. Lots of whales. Big fat finbacks and lean steaming sperm whales.

One rod went down; two down. Skipjacks in the slop. A good sign. My experience around finbacks in 500’ in the past has been stellar. We pounded the area, 500’ to 800’ amidst the whales with sporadic skipjack attacks and small mahi on most pots. The area seemed pregnant with potential. Working a bit west I found a 1 degree break on the wall; again whales and bait. This seemed to be the place.

I expected as the sun started to go down to eventually get pack attacked by yellowfin and potentially something better. It didn’t happen.

What did happen however was an interaction, a visit an encounter I will see in my minds eye for a long time. Trolling downsea into the deep I saw a whale 400 yards off; as I closed with it I realized it was a sperm whale. Despite some discussion and doubt as to its etmology due to it having a fin on its back we eventually closed within 100 yards and all saw what I saw; the high and square forehead; the bulbous sonar dome, the steaming forward spout that spelled sperm whale.

We paralleled it at 50 yards; it cruising; us trolling. I’ve seen them before lying on the surface black and wrinkled like a prune, perhaps from returning from a dive to the deeps. This one was full and plump, more of a grey brown than the jet black I have seen before. We closed; 30 yards, 20, as we veered in. I was very aware not to get in front of it, instead staying a few yards off its path.

Then it turned. There was the Moby Dick second when the high dome of the head was coming right at the boat at 20 yards, then it angled just a hair, just as we had, so it would cross behind the boat. 10 yards from the boat, 5 yards outside the spread it rolled on its side like a porpoise and turned its eye at us, an eye who’s size and location made no sense. The eye was so low and so far back on the domed head it almost seemed like a false eye. Then for a brief second, as has happened before with porpoise – we made eye contact as the whale looked at me and I looked back. It rolled upright the same way porpoise do after an encounter, angled off and slid under our spread; well inside the long rigger 50 yards back. Fortunately we did not hook up or I’d have a different story to tell!

Past the whale we hammered the area through dusk under the full moon. Despite the promise – nothing except a triple skipjack knockdown in the moonlight.

Pulling back and setting up for the night; it was quickly apparent that it was going to be a long and uncomfortable night in a deep V hull. The northwest 3’ swell and 10-12 mile breeze had a bite and snap to it.

We set up on the east wall and for 6 hours had the most perfect drift one could hope for; a racetrack loop down the east wall; across the canyon, then back up the west wall. Nothing, nada, zero, nil. Nothing other than a night under a full moon so bright it blotted out the stars. Not even a shark visited us all night; a thought had to believe given 2 flats of chunks in the water. At dawn, the radio said the same; skunk for the entire fleet.

Trolling pre dawn we found skippies and mahi, but decided to work up to the flats as the canyon was dead. Coming across the tip we zigged and zagged; center rigger went down; boils on the left short, explosion on the left long. Tripled up!

When all was said and done, 2 longfin graced my decks, the 1st albacore I have seen since 2009 and a welcome sight as well as a thankful relief not to have a canyon tuna skunk. At 8, canyon dead , we made a decision to pick up and run and look for life. We had seen a lot of life just south of the Hooter and wanted a chance to play there.

A long ride up under dead water, a few sharks, the odd bait pod but nothing; nothing till we could see the hump of the Vineyard; a term I had learned in a different decade in a distant fishery, one I never expected to see again. Bait schools dimpled the flat calm surface; greasy green blue water making their motion clear and visible just under the surface.

There! 100 yards to port – a fin – marlin!!! Chaos ensued, way too much command and not enough action; by the time we got our act together; it had settled. A search revealed nothing so Christian put the boat up on plane. Down below in the cockpit I felt us bank like a fighter plane as we went hard over. 2 more.

These we got bait at; a ballyhoo tossed in front of them, not even a refusal; they just settled away. Circling a bit we found them again and closed the gap for another toss; this time I dropped 2 rigged ones off the stern as we moved in. Another cast and refusal. We stopped the boat.

Blue Planet. Down below in the clear water; 20 feet down a school of blue colored halfbeaks rolled in a ball, spinning in a whirling circle as they cowered in the shadow of the boat. There below; a wolf outside the light of the campfire; a small white marlin, fins lit up with electric blue stripes vivid on its sides. There, also a second, prowling, herding the bait like a sheep dog.

We cast; we jigged, we tried to snag bait. Nothing. Frustration. Unless your beyond catching and then the experience can paint a memory that will last past a dockside bragging session. The bait stayed with us in a ball; the whites stayed below the bait; no attack, no feeding, just the herding, circling, waiting.

For the next 2 hours we played. Neptunes field; a bright blue sky; clear blue ocean, flat calm, no one but us for 4 miles in any direction. Bait schools moved on the surface and fins waked around the schools. Here a tail waved in the breeze; there 2 dorsals popped up and waked a V on the surface. Over there, water moving; a marlin under the surface.

We closed on 5, we closed on 10, we probably closed on 20. Ballyhoo; lures; Ronz, sluggos, nothing got an interest. Nothing got more than a look before the fish would move on their way. A cast would light them up for a second; fins and stripes going blue as they would have a look; then move on.

High noon; no action, the bait was happy; the marlin were on patrol, but not yet on the hunt. Shoulda, coulda, woulda - I have no regrets that we did not have the right gear and bait for the situation; the experience was in some respects better for the lack of action. The marlin weren’t feeding now; we had to be in soon and we were not rigged for the casting game. After an hour of moving in and casting; we switched to a 4 rod all ballyhoo spread. We passed single marlin; we passed pairs, we passed picket lines of 3 or 4. Good presentations, stealthy ones; aggressive ones; quiet, and noisy. We easily trolled by another 20 fish. One lazy slash was all we got.

1 PM; 75 minute ride and crew had a 2 PM commitment. As hard as it was to leave; it was time.

Back to the dock; reentry after a canyon trip is always a strange feeling; strange after 30 hours to touch land and leave the sea behind; strange to move off the little bubble of the boat and talk to others; strange to be stationary after constantly moving.

No dockside bragging today; no stream of flags flying – we clearly lost the completion others are running. No matter; we know what we saw; we know what was; sometimes seeing and being there is as important as catching.

[Happy Ending]

Great read, thnx for sharing

[simonsez1]

Great story Larry! Even though no love on the marlin, you had a great story to tell! Keep em coming!

[GeorgeJ]

Larry, great read as always. I found those whites as well, We must of seen 30 different ones in a 2 mile area. My first pass on them yielded 2 explosions on some beamish lures but no connections. They were spraying half beaks clear out of the water. We trolled and casted at them to no avail. As I was scanning the area looking for the next group to work, I was slowly dropping back a hoo/ sea witch combo, about 10 feet from the boat a white comes rocketing out of the water with my hoo in his mouth. Just as fast as he came up he was gone leaving me with a mangled and twisted rig. Finished up with a 125 pound mako on the troll. Fantastic to see those fish in that area. Might be able to sneak out for an easy trip this week. Did see a couple schools of footballs to the east of there on the way home, but had no Time to stop.

[storm petrel]

This may be the best you've ever written; somehow putting into words the way most of us feel, but can't really express, about being out on the ocean in a little boat...........really excellent.

How often over the years have I been in the school of tuna ripping the surface of the ocean into a white froth, but with no bites?

And that time I drove alongside a humpback nursing a calf, swimming along on her side with one of her fins more that ten feet out of the water, so enthralled I forgot the camera right next to me?

It really is beyond catching. (as much as I love the crowd around the cutting table as we tell the lubbers what is was like out there, "how far we had to go", all that)

[Fortunate One]

Nice write up Larry. Felt like I was there.

That experience is 1/2 of the reason why we go. The other is for the game.

Got to stay clear of Moby. That slob could have been having a bad day and decided to take it out on you.

[Captbillb]

Larry,
You wield an artist's brush with words.
Your ability to put what those of us who ply the NE waters see into words- that make the reader feel as if they're along side of you- is priceless.

[tmack92]

Very intertaining read, thanks for sharing...

[tunaddiction]

Great write up as always larry, our trip want much better than that at the tails. But its the experience that we go for....where did all the yellowfin go?!

[Sea Change]

Nice story! Summed up a good canyon trip (beyond catching) well.