Chris and Dan’s Excellent Offshore Adventure
“Many men go fishing their whole lives without knowing it’s not the fish they are after”
As we are on the "Back Nine" of the 2022 saltwater season in the northeast, I can't help but reflect on how fortunate I am to experience the wonderment of mother nature every day. She never ceases to amaze me; just when I think I have seen it all, I get blindsided with a roundhouse kick to the head that blows me away with astoundment. Sharing these experiences with clients, friends, and family makes every encounter memorable in its own way and impossible to rank. As I write this, many stories come to mind, and I notice a pattern in all these wild encounters. See if you can see what I see!
An orca amidst a football tuna feed near the Isles of Shoals
A great white eating a 40" striper in 3 feet of water off Plum Island
Seals rounding up and eating stripers
A mako chasing a trolled pogy ONTO the beach
A blue shark spazzing out at the back of the boat and HITTING the hull because a gargantuan great white was coming towards the boat.
A thresher shark slicing a trolled bluefish in half with its tail
A beautifully lit white marlin slashing through schools of halfbeaks right next to the boat.
Do you notice the pattern that I discovered? It's all predatory-prey relationships being visible live and uncut. Watching animals exhibit millions of years of evolutionary programming to survive is exhilarating and the purest form of truth. "To eat or be eaten" is the only agenda item on their Google Calendar today. Witnessing the dance for survival in real-time immediately triggers your senses, captivating your full attention. Planet Earth can take care of what you see; however, nothing can encapsulate the first-person perspective coupled with the sounds, the smells, and the spirit of the moment. "I can't believe that just happened!" adrenaline rush kicks in, high fives go around, and videos go straight to social media is the pinnacle of the moment. You and your buddies now have this remarkable life experience to share as something special for the rest of your lives. I also realized that we did not catch a single fish while these events occurred. Yet, they represent some of my most incredible memories on the water.
But then, yesterday happened. Officially the most fantastic display of pelagic apex predators I have ever had the opportunity to experience. A moment Dan, Tim, and I will never forget for the rest of our days. Although what happened is nothing new in the fishing scene (a shark stealing a fish off your line), being physically immersed in the situation gives a rush like none other. No magazine article, tv show, or Youtube video could ever capture what went down for us last night. (Hopefully, this blog and our next podcast will!) So here is the story...
Labor Day weekend is typically when I spend some time at the Cape for a vacation and hunt down some albies and bluefin tuna. This year Dan's sister is getting married (In 5 hours...), so the typical Labor Day plan was squashed, and adjustments had to be made. With family in town, Dan and I wanted to take out his father-in-law Tim and his stepfather Bert for an afternoon fishing on Friday. We made plans to fish Friday evening, trolling for blues for a couple hours to keep it easy.
But by Friday morning, the forecast for the afternoon looked too good to be ignored. Tuna wishing was now on the menu. Due to our work schedules, we had a tight afternoon window for a realistic chance. Still, we unanimously agreed to give it a go! I had the highest of spirits and good vibes externally. Still, I knew deep down we would be wasting gas and not see shit like nearly every other time we do these stupid 5:00 PM offshore runs. Even a tuna sighting would be a successful fishing trip, in my opinion, at this point.
Just before we were about to leave, Bert had to drop out. I promise you, Bert, that we will tell you ALL ABOUT the trip at the wedding tonight, probably multiple times, and in great detail. We pointed the boat east into beautiful, flat calm seas with our eyes focused in every direction on the ride out for any sign of life. We never saw any and continued on our path to our spot.
Immediately as we pulled up into our area to start a troll, we found a nice temperature break. The water jumped from 64 to 67.5 degrees over a short 1/4 mile span, and my confidence level shot up a couple ticks. Nearly all my great offshore fishing days occur along sharp temp breaks, so maybe today could be the day. We slow the boat and deploy our spread of Side Tracker spreader bars. Given the sun was still pretty bright, I went with zucchini-colored squid as the short lines and white bars for the far lines, with an X-rap down the middle.
After 20 minutes of trolling, we marked a fish down deep and began to circle back over when Tim noticed a single gannet flying high and circling off our port side. Tim is no stranger to fishing these waters. Growing up in Rockport, he worked as a commercial fisherman, mate, sailor, and anything else that kept him on the water. He knows a thing or two about a thing or two. Silently, Tim stayed sharply focused on its behavior while I patrolled forward and Dan searched the starboard side. Being a seasoned vet of the seas, Tim sees the gannet's head snap down at a 90-degree angle, indicating that he found his mark. Tim's eyes fall to focus on the water directly under the bird, knowing this might be the moment we have been waiting for. Tim says, in crescendo volume with each sentence fragment, "That gannet just looked down....there's bait being sprayed!...TUNA 7 O'Clock!"
I turn hard left and get the gannet about 200 yards away off at 11:00 off my bow. I keep a keen eye on him, looking for the next move. I see his head turn down again, bait get sprayed, and a football tuna come blasting full body, five feet out of the water! We found them! Here we go! Dan grabs a spin rod and heads up the bow as I keep us on the troll to get closer to the action.
A few more gannets come swooping in and start zipping around our spread. As I'm just about to make a comment about it, "ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!" The port side short bar in zucchini goes off, and we are tight, baby!
Dan and I quickly clear lines while Tim gets the first attempt to tame the beast. After a blistering run on Dan's TLD 30 (A rod and reel combo he bought at our flea market for $150), the tuna started to settle down, and now it has become a battle of will. Since we were going to run out of daylight, we knew this was our only chance, so we took turns fighting the tuna.
The fight of the tuna itself wasn't anything special. It did tuna things. A few hard runs, some zig-zags, and some headshakes. Overall, it was a run-of-the-mill textbook tuna fight. I was the last person up to tussle the fish. We had a nice high angle on the fish as he was on the surface for the last 50 yards. As we see color off in the distance, I see a cloud of crimson surrounding the tuna. I say, "I think he may be gut-hooked. I just saw blood coming out of his gills." It's not common, but I have seen it happen before. Then I noticed it was coming in way too easily. As the tuna is 20 feet from the boat, we get a good look at it. It had been bitten in half from just below the anal fin! What the hell! We can't believe it. The Tax Man showed up.
Our despair was short-lived when a 10-foot mako darted from behind the boat, trying to take another chunk! Dan sunk the gaff and yanked it out just in the nick of time. The mako's head came out of the water and snapped its jaws while trying to savor one last bite.
With half a football tuna profusely gushing blood all over the deck, everything went into Operation Warp Speed to get payback on "The Man in the Blue Suit." It was absolute controlled chaos. Upon the tuna hitting the deck, I immediately went fumbling in my console to tie up a shark leader. Dan unhooked the tuna, cleared the deck, and unhooked the spreader bar to prepare the rod for a shark leader. Tim kept his eyes on the mako, keeping it around the boat. He expertly found a chum bucket and scooped the pools of tuna blood into the water like Capt. Brody in JAWS as they slowly leaked out my scuppers.
I quickly got a leader ready, cut off a chuck of tuna, threw it near the mako, and was ready for showtime. The mako didn't even look at the bait. This picky son-of-a-bitch just ate 30 pounds of tuna, and now he decides he doesn't want to eat? Then, as the chunk of tuna on the hook slowly descends, the mako robotically spins around and swims deep in the opposite direction. We are immediately heartbroken, but I have had this experience many times. In nearly every encounter I have had, they take a bite of the back half of the bait, then come back again after a few minutes to finish supper. We decide to wait it out and keep the chum going.
Within 10 minutes, the beast appears from the deep. This time, we got a good look at him, but it felt like he was getting a good look at us. This shark was enormous (I'd estimate it at just over 10 ft in total length, putting it around 400 pounds according to this https://apps-nefsc.fisheries.noaa.gov/loranconv/shark/cgi-bin/calc.pl.). This apex predator was being super fussy with its food. It did not want any chunks of bait we were throwing at it. At first, it was annoying, but the mood shifted once the intention became clear. The mako routinely circled the boat, paying no mind to how close he came. The orientation of his body looked awkward as if he were a boat with one side completely trimmed up. The "big, black, lifeless eyes" were strangely maintaining eye contact with me as he circled on my side of the boat. I could see his eyeball ever-so-slightly shift orientation as the shark maintained interest. The feeling was ominous in his intentions. This shark knew something was up; it was cautiously aggressive while circling the boat for minutes on end. The real question was: Can we trick him enough to take the bait?
After another five minutes of snubbing the bait, our buddy finally took some interest. Every time the body tilted toward the fresh chunk of tuna, a little zap of nerves shot down my spine. We were continually disappointed as the shark would snub the bait every time before he went away again.
At this point, we decided to clean up the tuna and continue our chum slick, hoping it would bring the mako back. After some pictures and high fives, I added an orange skirt to the shark rod, hoping the little extra flair would be enough to get bit if she came back. As soon as I clipped the leader on, our curious friend was back, this time with a more aggressive attitude coming straight for the boat. I threw the bait in the water and dropped it quickly to gain her attention. The mako saw the squid from the corner of her eye and charged straight for it. Before the skirt was out of sight, we intently watched this massive mako shark zip right in and devour our bait! FISH ON!!!
The next battle round began with me on the rod first. After screaming runs, thumping head shakes, and a bunch of zig-zags, she seemed to be settled down just when I had about had enough and passed the rod to Tim. A few minutes into Tim's chapter, the mako goes on a blistering run and explodes out of the water, somersaulting 15 feet in the air to throw the hook! I have hooked 10 makos, and this is only the second one to jump! We have it on video, to boot! It was about 200 yards away at this point. It truly is a spectacle to see.
Dan finished up the fight and got it to the boat, where Tim took some video (I have to get it off his phone at the wedding tonight and will add it here tomorrow) up close of the beast. Since makos are no longer allowed to be harvested, we cut the steel leader and watched her slowly cruise away on top. She swam away in a manner that embodied the current state of our relationship. The mako was the hunter a short while ago, patrolling the deep and ravishing hundred-pound tuna, reviving her time at the top of the food chain. Her confidence while encircling us was now extinguished. Having suffered a rare, if not a first, defeat, she retreats akin to your dog when he knows he's been a bad boy and sulks away.
High fives and back to the barn where the dock was hopping! We told the story repeatedly, giving out tuna steaks and having a ball. This evening was definitely one of the most remarkable experiences we have ever had. Watching an apex predator-prey relationship in full display, complete with the twist of shifting roles in the hierarchy of dominance with my family, on a beautiful summer night that almost never even happened, was the cap to my summer. Also, I'm not mad at you anymore, Rachel, for getting married this weekend! (Just kidding!)
Well, I gotta go get ready for the wedding and prepare to bust Bert's balls for bailing out!
Tight Lines,
CAPT. CHRIS
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