Addicted to Albacore (Weekend Report)

The sun was barely up when a tern 75 yards off the starboard side of my buddy Randy Dennis’ 19-foot Jones Brothers caught my eye. The bird was dipping and rising frantically, moving forward at a good clip, but never hitting the water. For lack of a better description, the tern was acting “fishy.” Randy had an eye on the bird as well and when a familiar-looking slash ripped across the surface of the water, Randy had the boat moving toward the action before I could even shout, “Albies!”

For the light-tackle and fly crowd, false albacore are the pinnacle of the inshore fishing experience. Those new to false albacore fishing should be warned – from watching the violent feeding frenzies on the surface to hoping you don’t run out of line before the fish stops its sizzling run, false albacore fishing is extremely addictive.

This year, the albies showed up in numbers off the South Side of Cape Cod after Irene moved through. The fishing has been improving every day since, and by the time I got after them this past Sunday, the run seemed to be in full swing with a very large size class of fish. The day before our trip, Randy had landed an 11-pounder on the fly rod, and before we returned to the dock Sunday afternoon, we’d see a fish even bigger than that.

We started out fishing off the east side of Martha’s Vineyard with a small fleet of boats. The fish were erupting in good-sized groups, tearing apart the surface for 5 to 30 seconds at a clip and sending unlucky spearing flying through the air.

Early on we got a good number of casts in front of fish by slowly but deliberately motoring the boat into the vicinity of the feed. Even if they went down before we got there, lingering in the area for a minute or two paid off a number of times when the fish resurfaced within casting range.

My weapon of choice was a Van Staal 150 on a 7-foot G. Loomis GL2 spinning rod. The reel was spooled up with 30-pound-test FINS braided line, tied to a 30-inch, 15-pound-test fluorocarbon leader. Before a casting snafu sent it to a watery grave, a new Acme Kastmaster XL was cinched to the end of my leader. Randy swapped between a similar spinning outfit with a Deadly Dick lure and a fly rod.

The albies proved to be a little picky initially, following and blowing up on our lures, which we retrieved at a breakneck pace through the blitzes, but not really taking. Many times, connecting with an albie is just a matter of getting the lure in front of the right fish, and thanks to expert boat maneuvering by Randy, I had plenty of opportunities to do that. It couldn’t have been 7:30 a.m. when an electric-green albie broke away from the school and followed my lure right to the boat. I saw the fish open its mouth to finally eat. Buckling under the pressure, I ripped the lure away from the fish in a premature attempt to set the hook. Luck was on my side, and the pod of fish stayed on the surface within range long enough for me to get a second shot. I flipped the lure into the feeding frenzy and after a few very fast cranks of the reel handle, the rod doubled over.

A few confused, frantic headshakes transmitted through the line as the fish wondered why its last spearing was biting back. The albacore eventually gained traction and my reel let out that high-pitched whine that albie nuts dream about. After a few minutes, Randy dipped the net under the fish, and my first false albacore of 2011 was in hand.

As we resumed the hunt for more albies, the 10-year-old son of one of Randy’s friends on another boat, Robbie, hooked into his very first false albacore while we drove past. We stopped to watch a snap a couple photos as the young angler expertly played and landed what turned out to be the largest false albacore I’ve ever seen, a beautiful 13-pounder that was released after a few photos.

The fish were still coming up in good numbers, and within 30 minutes I hooked up again. This fish came right at the boat, and I reeled frantically to get the line tight. When I finally did, the fish sat on the surface right next to the boat for an instant before firing up the after-burners and ripping 40 yards of line off my spool like only an albie can. When I eventually got this one in the boat, we dropped it on the Boga Grip. I was hoping it would be my first double-digit albie, but at more than 9 pounds, it was big enough for me.

Randy was up next, and he hooked up on a ¾-ounce green Deadly Dick. I was casting on the other side of the boat, and saw the fish shoot out from underneath the boat as Randy worked to keep his line and rod from snapping on the bottom of the boat. Before long, I slipped the net under another 8- or 9-pound false albacore.

Not long after that, the surface feeding petered out, and we moved from the east side of the Vineyard to the area off Tashmoo. The fleet of boats in the area hinted that there was some albie action there as well. Some birds began diving after our arrival and it became immediately apparent that this fleet of boats was much less “well-behaved” than the one fishing off the east side. As soon as the birds began to dip, several boats threw the hammer down and roared toward the action. Not only is this practice dangerous, but it’s also a great way to put down the fish. We moved across the sound toward Woods Hole in short order. Off Nasuhon we found lots of albies and a pair of fly fishermen doubled up. We fished through the early afternoon and despite a number of good shots, a few follows and one very brief hook-up, we did not connect again. At 3:00 p.m. we headed, all the more addicted to false albacore.