Baby Bluefin (South of the Vineyard Report 7-16-11)

We’d pulled back on the throttles just 4 miles south of Nomans Island when a trio of shearwaters pointed out schools of frantic halfbeaks flying out of the water. In the middle of the fray, a small, torpedo-shaped fish flew out of the water.

“Bonito!” shouted our boat captain, Larry Backman. At that, OTW TV Producer Matt Rissell and I began setting out the spread. Though bonito weren’t our target, the halfbeaks and birds were enough to convince us that there may be some bigger game close by. Before I could clip on a spreader bar and send it over the side, a bluefin in the 30-pound class came barreling out of the water in the middle of the halfbeaks.

“Tuna too!” I hollered. At that, Matt and I began working feverishly to get the lures in the water.

Ten minutes later, two spreader bars were dancing on the surface, a pair of ballyhoo were kicking wildly on flatlines and three skirted lures were chugging and diving and bubbling in the Skipjack’s wake. If we spotted any more fish on the surface, I wanted to be ready to cast at them, so I went to work splicing a Seaguar fluorocarbon leader onto a Fin-Nor Ahab Spinning setup that would be perfectly suited to the smaller bluefin and bonito. Before I could get 15 wraps into my splice, the Penn 50 dragging a spreader bar on the starboard side went down. Just fifteen minutes into the troll, and I was already able to yell those sweetest of words: “FISH ON!”

Larry scuttled down from the tower and grabbed the rod. The fish’s run fizzled out quickly and Larry began cranking it to the boat with relative ease. I guessed bluefish, but Larry said he felt the tailbeats of a member of the tuna clan, and said he thought it was a bonito. When Matt backed the throttles off a bit, I watched several fish boil and miss the port-side spreader bar. Larry quickly got the fish close and as I grabbed the leader, I could hardly believe it. The fish was not a bluefish or a bonito, but about a 10-pound bluefin. “Adorable,” Matt said as I swung it over the rail.

Seeing a bluefin that size was an excellent sign. For a few years, it seemed like the only tuna we were seeing off the Cape were from the boom year class of the early 2000’s, fish that now averaged 70 to 75 inches and were right on the brink of being “too big” to handle with spinning, jigging or lighter trolling gear. Not only that, but as Captain Eric Stewart has said, bluefin tuna seem to change their habits once they approach “giant-size.” With a greater caloric requirement than can be met in Cape Cod inshore waters, where the predominant baitfish is sand eels, many giant tuna head up to Canada to feed on giant schools of sea herring.

In 2011, however, a mix of bluefin have been feeding around the Cape. In addition to the 70- to 75-inchers we were expecting to see, there have been some fish in the mid 50-inch range and some fish in the 40-inch class. That fish, however, was the first I’d heard of in the 20-inch class, but seeing it, and a few of its compatriots was a great sign for tuna fishing in the years to come.

I was next up and I didn’t have to wait long for the next knockdown. This time a pink-skirted ballyhoo did the trick. The fish was a near twin of the first bluefin, and was promptly released. We reset the spread and continued on the troll.

About 15 minutes later, I thought I saw a boil on one of the lures set way back. I joined Larry in the tower to get a better angle on the trolling spread and to scan for life out front. Larry spotted some whale spouts and shifted the Skipjack in that direction. Larry and I were talking about the recent slowdown of striper fishing in the Canal when we were interrupted by the pop of an outrigger clip. I climbed down to the deck and found Matt clinging onto a screaming TLD 25. I grabbed a belt for him and as he clipped the rod in, the fish showed no signs of slowing. Pushing the lever past strike and cinching up the drag brought the fish to a halt and Matt began the long process of regaining a lot of lost line. The fish came relatively easily until it saw the boat and ripped off much of the line Matt worked so hard to regain. Eventually we had color and the shape of a 50-pound bluefin came into view. Larry stuck it with the gaff, and into the fish box it went.

With the spread back out, Larry left me with the wheel for a bit. Though we’d already had some good action, there hadn’t been many signs of life besides a couple whales, that one school of halfbeaks and a stray bird here or there. Matt was with me in the tower looking for anything that might indicate fish. We spotted some slick water, which could have meant that fish were feeding below and the oils from the mangled baitfish were climbing to the top. Or it could have meant that a boat had passed through a while ago and knocked down the seas. Either way, I turned the boat toward the slick and hoped for the best. A few seconds after turning the boat, a clip popped and a reel started singing. I throttled back and climbed down to help Larry. As I was on the ladder, a second rod went down. Double!

Larry and I made quick work of the double header. His was about a 20-pound bluefin, while mine was another 10-pound baby. We took a couple pictures and sent the fish on their way.

With one tuna on ice and four released before 9:30, it was already an awesome day. But that would be it. We trolled a wide swath of water until early afternoon and never had another bite. The radio chatter wasn’t much more promising. The highlight for the second half of the trip was a massive pod of common dolphin that stuck with the boat for almost 20 minutes. It’s always cool to see these big marine mammals at such close range.

Back at the dock, we divvied up the tuna and used the scraps to catch a couple bonus stripers that hang around the Falmouth Harbor docks looking for hand outs, putting a capper on a great day On The Water.