Tuna! (Northwest Albacore)
Bruce
and I left Gresham, Oregon mid-afternoon on Friday, August 22, 2008, after we finishing
our home chores that included clipping our turkeys' wings to keep them in some form
of control, kissed our wives and kids (if they were around), and saying good-byes
to all. With the truck full of our gear and tuna containers we headed to Longview,
Washington on our first leg of the trip to the coast.
For me, it is always heartwarming to drive by Lake Sacagawea and Hemlock street in Longview. Whenever I drive past the lake I think of staying with Grandma and Grandpa in the summer, walking down Hemlock street and spending the greater part of the day there soaking a bobber and worm. The lake was home to all the Easter ducklings that grew too large and became too messy to keep. It all came back so vividly. We turned left on Ocean Beach Hwy and eventually passed 48th Avenue and I thought of my Grandparents again. Soon we passed by a very small pond that I remember fishing in for a short time when I was about five or six years old. It was a trip with Great Grandma Blumer and Dad if you can believe it! I even remember the bobber going down but missing the fish. Probably too large a hook, that Great Grandma Blumer tied onto the line of the steel rod and level-wind reel she gave me. She was always fishing for catfish as that is what she did in Iowa. My missed fish was probably a four-inch perch, trying to eat a two ounce night crawler threaded on a 2/0 black varnished, long-shanked Mustad hook tied to 20-pound test black braided nylon. So many memories flooded my mind as we passed the County Line Park where we spent so much time together fishing for steelhead, salmon, and "harvest trout" (sea-run cutthroats) that are now uncommon.
We stayed on Highway 4 past the Ilwaco turn off and headed north on Hwy 101 to Willapa Bay. We eventually drove by the BBQ oyster place at South Bend. I so wished we the time to get a few of those BBQ oysters that Kris and I had a few weeks back on the maiden voyage of our camper. All that I can say is that they were amazingly delicious. If you have an affinity for oysters at all, these will put you over the top and into culinary heaven.
We experienced a short wrong-turn detour caused by our lively discussion about the animal life and verdure of Uganda -- brought to mind by the beauty of the tidal grasslands and forests that surround Willapa Bay. Bruce had recently returned from Uganda on his annual project helping the people in that country, so memories were vivid.
Getting back on track after losing a few minutes, we eventually arrived at the dock about 7 pm on an absolutely gorgeous evening. This was amazing weather for the coast, low 70's, calm winds and calm sea. We met our shipmates, loaded our gear, parked the truck and headed out of the harbor for the open Pacific with the sound of droning diesels and the smell of sea salt. Rather than being a late middle aged man, I felt like a kid again, full of youthful anticipation and wonder.
Our boat was a 50-foot charter made by Delta Marine. Twin diesels with a small auxiliary diesel for electricity and all gives one a real sense of security on the ocean. Fully loaded with electronics, our vessel has about as much as you could want to navigate this vast undulating plain.
Heading into the setting sun, crossing the bar was great fun, as the slow easy swells rolled underneath the boat. Seagulls followed the boat looking for a scrap or two seemingly unaware that scraps are customarily thrown when we return -- not when we leave. Distant cormorants glided over ocean swells twinkling with rose colored flashes as the sun sank into the horizon.
We motored all night until about 1 am. All eight of us fishermen had crammed ourselves into our berths up front in the fo'c's'le. Two slept in the cabin area. Bruce and I were on top of the three staggered berths in the bow, he on the Port and I on Starboard. I think the veterans thought that the lower bunks rocked less or something, or maybe were easier to get into and out of (the more likely reason) but Bruce and I really liked the top berths as there was much more room to sleep and to pile our gear.
I really didn't sleep much the first night. Being such a new experience and all -- resting there enjoying the rocking of the boat as the swells passed beneath my bunk. To spend the night, the boat is motored to a point upwind or current, well above the approximate position that you want to be when the fishing begins. So 8-10 miles upwind, the engines are shut down except for the small auxiliary diesel to keep the boat lights and electronics on all night. Then you go to bed and drift. In fact as I write this I feel the sea rolling by.
We awakened to the sound of the large engines and to the smell of fresh coffee and sea air. The deck hands (the skipper's son and his girlfriend) were letting out the four trolling rods rigged with Tuna Clones and Cedar Plugs as we were underway, searching for schools of Albacore. Fishermen, talking loud and yelling over the sounds of the engines, struggling to get on their rain gear in a rocking boat, trying to gulp down a cup of coffee and cram something to eat into your mouth, knowing full well that they may not get another chance to eat for quite a while. It was wonderful chaos in a clear calm morning 50 miles out to sea as the sun rose through the mist on the horizon. The swells we small and covered with a gentle chop which was nearly flat. Glorious! To my way of thinking, every fisherman needs to experience this.
Tuna Clones are lures made to fish while trolling at high speeds, typically about 6 knots or more. They are made with either a metal or plastic head that trails a vinyl skirt, and are typically threaded onto a heavy line ending with a double tuna hook. The colors range from Kelly green, chartreuse, red, blue, and white, often in combinations of these. A Cedar Plug is another lure made for high speed trolling. Made from a cedar dowel with a center hole and a bullet-shaped lead head, this lure is deadly for tuna. Rigged with wire or monofilament leaders in excess of 100 pound test and a large single hook, the Cedar Plug is a must have. The plain cedar does very well. This plug comes in a variety of great colors, but plain wood or Fire Tiger is very hard to beat.
We were into fish in a short time. One of the trolling rods took a strike, bent severely with its 50 pound line peeling off at a rapid rate in spite of the considerable drag set on the reel. That got my attention! One of my fishing guide friends calls this a "fold over." The humorous term is immediately understood when one watches a rod struck on the troll by an albacore.
While everyone scrambled, some to the trolling rods and some to live bait rods, the deck hands immediately filled the bait trays with lively anchovies and began to bait our #4 live bait hooks tied to unweighted 25 pound line. The hook was inserted into the collar just behind the gills. It was amazing at first how deft the deck hands were at this as the little fish were extremely active and slippery. Eventually handling them became easier to me.
It took a while for my first hook-up which came as a bit of a shock as I was wondering what a tuna strike would feel like. I quickly learned that a strike on bait is just a very light tug along with a turbine speed unwinding of line as the pelagic cruise missile courses away from the boat at 100 miles per hour (I exaggerate -- but not much!). While free-spooling the swimming anchovy , it is best to keep your thumb on the spool lightly. Most often when a tuna takes the bait the line is peeled off of the reel so quickly that an overrun and break off is a sure bet unless you use light thumb pressure to control the spool. After a few seconds of running you can engage the drag and hang on as the fish's first run can be 50 yards or more. After that it is a dogged fight to the boat with several runs until the fish can be gaffed. I lost quite a few to over pressuring my fish causing the line to break. One problem is that often the fish swallow the hook and the deck hands wrap their boot around the line and kick to break it off. Of course this weakens the terminal end of the line and is the cause of many break- offs. It would be best to remove three feet of line with each hook tie.
Many were lost due to my tendency to over pressure the fish. I typically fish salmon with heavier gear in the saltwater and rivers here in the Northwest in order to quickly control the fish and return it if it is a native. Such fishing style does not do well for tuna on 25 pound test, especially with line that has been well used over the course of the day.
I also found that the best bait was one that swam vigorously downward angled away from the boat. On one occasion all eight of us had tuna on at the same time -- what a party that was, twisted lines fish coming to the surface and fishermen shouting, "Color!" which means "get here with the gaff 5 minutes ago."
The tuna (Albacore) are beautiful and amazing. Fishing near the bow on one occasion which puts you above the water a ways, I hooked a fairly large fish and played him to the boat. The water was so clear that I could see that dark bullet with long pectoral fins like plane wings extending sideways, half a body length to each side, as the fish darted about ripping off drag. When they are first boated their backs are a beautiful azure and their bellies silver. Some have a bronze or yellow tinge along the sides that is very faint. Not much time to observe them though as when the boat is into fish all you can do is to grab another rod, bait it up, and get it into the water as soon as you can. All I can say is that I was thankful for boots and good rain wear bottoms as the blood, slime, scales, and water spray was everywhere. Thankfully the deck hands washed down everything after each skirmish. I had planned to take a 9 wt. fly rod for the occasion to try but it was left behind to my disappointment; but after catching a bunch of these bullets on light salmon gear, I was actually not sorry.
We saw a fairly large shark swim by at about 25 yards. It looked to be at least seven feet long, but at that distance and being in the water, it is hard to say for sure. A small dying sunfish was at the surface on one occasion with a large dark sea bird picking away at him. I was unsure if the sunfish was in fact dying or if maybe the bird was picking off parasites in some symbiosis with the fish. We also boated two giant Humboldt squid; they were about three feet long. Real "monsters" these squid; but I bet they'd make good squid salad.
That first, and only, day of fishing lasted 12 hours, pretty much non-stop. There were a few breaks when trolling for a new school of fish at which time we got something to eat and drink, or just rested. The boat technique was quite effective. We trolled clones and plugs until a hook-up, sometimes three or even all four at a time, with the trolling rods bent over at the handle, the 50 pound line screaming off while a driving tuna swam from a boat traveling at six knots. While all of this was going on, the skipper would turn the boat about. All others not on trolling gear readied their rods to let the live bait out as the boat slowed to drift, it was fast action fishing. We boated 191 fish in those 12 hours. The largest was 40 pounds I'd guess. Most ranged from 15 to 25 pounds.
As evening closed in, the light over the ocean was muted, almost soft, with a skiff of fog. And as the light faded there came a Steinbeck moment. Or then again was it a Hemmingway moment? An old dark commercial rig came into view bounding towards a flotilla of birds riding the smooth swells. Charging very near the birds, to my amazement, a man on deck was throwing small net-fulls of bait fish out back while three men on the aft were holding long sticks over the wake, giving them a jiggle and then hauling tuna over their heads and immediately dropping the line in again for another. I didn't know that this was still done, with memories of old black and white documentaries in my head from childhood of tuna fishermen hauling huge fish out of the sea, sometimes three men on a fish. It was artistic and romantic all at the same time, and I was there in the middle of it -- the birds, the fish, the sea, and us all together in a wonderful stew of the senses out on the Pacific.
That night a storm came in. It started off as a rise in the wind and a gradual increase in the rocking of the boat. We were all tired and aching as you might imagine and we headed off to our berths. Bruce and I followed and climbed to our top sanctuaries and into our bags atop vinyl pads. The only caution with these top berths was that getting down in a pitching boat could be dangerous if you didn't exercise care.
As we slept the wind began to pick up increasingly, and even so I slept much better than the first night. Awakening from time to time, I would find myself sliding from one rail to the other with the rocking of the boat as the wind howled. About daylight everyone began the process of readying themselves for another day of fishing but it became clear to most that the seas were way to wrinkled up to fish without going overboard. I have never been seasick before until I needed to use the small head out on deck. This was a tiny room, about 2.5 feet square I would guess. As soon as I shut the door I was in a tumbling space craft and looking out the small porthole into very angry gray seas, no horizon at all, the room was full of the smells of wet day old fish blood, slime, and scales, and the smell of a small open head. Within seconds my esophagus went into reverse even before I felt nausea in the least. It became immediately clear that my most urgent need had changed and that I needed to get out and onto the pitching deck that had fresh air and a horizon. Within 15 minutes or so I was doing very well. All I can say is, one shouldn't use that head until the sea calms.
Soon most of the group decided that it would be best to head to port. Even though the decision was disappointing, it turned out to be a great one for a couple of reasons, the primary one was that it was too dangerous to fish. I was still sleepy so headed to my top berth and slept back to port. We made it in within a relatively short time as we had drifted shore ward during the night -- an unusual 30 miles or so in the storm according to the GPS.
It sure felt strange to be on flat water as we entered Westport harbor. The rain had been sideways and steady at sea and now it was coming relatively straight down in a very soaking northwest coast fashion. With 191 fish on board to deal with, we let the deck hands go at loining out the tuna while we gathered up our gear and all, and disembarked. When we were fully loaded back into the truck Bruce and I had five 50 pound bags of tuna loins each for our families and to share with friends. At breakfast in a local restaurant, we heard that the Coast Guard had called back the tuna fleet the previous evening. We were soaked and tired and very ready to head home.
Having an extra day to process the fish was a gift. Bruce and I started at 9 am the next morning and Kris (my always-ready-to-help better half) and I finished canning and vacuum sealing at 11:30 pm. My good friend Larry came by earlier in the day to help trim loins for processing. It helped quite a lot to get some extra hands on the job. He took fresh tuna home for smoking that has become his specialty. We have all found that marinated tuna on the BBQ is very hard to top. Home-canned albacore sandwiches will just plain spoil you.
It was back to work after a day of fish processing. Looking back the experience was wonderful, but 3 days is a long time, and I'm glad for only 2 at sea, primarily because of the fish processing time. When I fish albacore again I will take Yaquina Bay Charters for a one-day trip. I thoroughly enjoyed all but a few minutes of my two days on the Pacific, I do still think about that 9 weight though.
-- Steve Lumsden, 2008
