That nautical theme I was referencing held fast although we did enjoy a brief reprieve in the famed "Lunker hole" for a few sweet morning hours. Much as we attempted to extend our morning in that heavenly, flat calm lee, the fish, or lack thereof, forced our hand. As we rounded the northeast corner of San Benedicto nothing about the sea state was inviting. In addition to the wind huffing and puffing the swell was a mixed up cauldron of convergence as four to six foot standing seas jacked up by a ripping northerly current defined the maritime term "potato patch" to perfection. And the fish within our sights were straight into it.

With little alternative, and zero time to waste, the objective was clear. Punching through the slop, my excitement was building to a crescendo. I could see the big school floating high and dry with at least a thousand booby birds low aloft in anticipation of the tuna pushing bait to the surface. As we neared the boomer school the cacophony of boobies squawking, wind whistling, sonar scratching, and seas thumping against the hull pushed my instinct into overdrive.

And somewhere during this last hurrah I have a flash thought of how incredible/ridiculous/remarkable it is that after over 475 yellowfin tagged this voyage, after seeing similar scenarios I can't even begin to recall how many times, after driving this rig and others in pursuit of fish thousands of days over the past twenty five years, my drive to pursue and catch these things is inexhaustible. I was just as enthusiastic, just as fired up to see those tuna come on board as I was when I was a kid.

And I suspect that there are times when some anglers must think I am a little off kilter to be so motivated by catching fish. It is likely that this morning was one of those times. But, as all of these anglers have fished with me in the past no one was surprised. Those who wanted to fish did. Those who chose to relax and enjoy the show from topside had the benefit of dissecting the deck mechanics during slightly challenging conditions. In the end, that I mourned because I could still see so much fish around, we came out winners tagging the exact five hundredth yellowfin tuna to finish the voyage on a poignant note.

Prepared for the worst we hunkered down and hung on as we made way up the line in unfavorable conditions. The dangling carrot to fuel optimism however was a report of rapidly improving conditions to the north as the wind and seas were forecast to abate by the late afternoon. And wouldn't you know it, I served the famous final evening prime rib feast in calm conditions. It began around one in the afternoon and continued until the boat was barely moving more than a gentle sway and easy roll; another one of those fantastic nautical events that explains the temptress' allure.

Photo of the day appropriately features angler Tim Ziegler who grabbed the honor of ringing the closing bell with the five hundredth yellowfin tuna tagged for the trip. As an ideal exit cue, we took heed grateful for Tim's multi faceted contribution to the cause. Look for reports to continue as we head up the line.


Tim Ekstrom

Photo Here...