By Bill Roecker

Fishing aboard Steve Drogin’s 60-foot Mikkelson yacht Destiny with Dan Walsh and two other anglers, Paul Sweeney and I spent a pleasant day on the water July 30. We left the Kona Kai the night before and motored down to an area of kelps off Punta Banda, and then slowly worked our way back toward the Coronados. I say slowly because we trolled our way back. Without live bait (due to an apparent impeller failure), trolling was our remaining option.

Trolling worked very well, though, and it seemed we had a strike of some sort every few minutes. We hung a lot of different jigs back in the wake through the day, but the king jig, as it has been since I brought one aboard the Excel many years ago on a trip with Russ Izor, Carl Newell and other manufacturers, was the cedar plug, in natural wood finish. The cedar plug took the most fish and the best fish, as noted by trip organizer Dan Walsh, who cooked the pizzas listed here:

The Day’s Catch

11 pizzas
6 passengers
2 crew (Skipper Julie Jordan and deckhand Doug Wagner)
2 Yellowfin tuna
1 Bluefin tuna
14 Dorado, 6 released
5 Yellowtail, all released
1 Albacore (honkin' size)

.

“A cedar plug,” wrote Dan, “attached to my Accurate 30 reel and Seeker Black Steel rod, accounted for all tuna, the biggest dorado, and several of the other also-rans! All anglers that wanted a chance to reel in a fish on this rig had that opportunity, as it almost became a habit for this rig to get the fish today!”

Let it be known that Dan is now a cedar plug advocate. When he tried one the first thing in the morning he was skeptical, but no more.

The Zucker’s broomtail in zucchini color was another trolling jig produced some good fish. I tried to get a fish by dropping an anchovy-colored plastic bait back on the slide, but got no bites. I ate very well, however, and took a lot of still pictures. Sweeney got a few shots, too, and manned the Sony EX1 full high definition television camera.

We saw a few marlin jumping in the distance on our way north, but not much in the way of feeding birds or fish. The fish seemed spread evenly at both ends of our fishing journey. The yellowfin and the single bluefin were associated with kelps near the southern end, and the albacore bit less than 15 miles from the Coronados, south-southwest from the islands. Without bait or chum we couldn’t bring the schools to the boat or keep them around, so after each fish we just moved on.

Judging by what I saw out there, this is the peak of the summer season, with tropicals like dorado and yellowfin coming up the line, and some albacore still around, though they may be beginning to move toward the north and west, their usual exit route. I’d be reluctant to predict the albacore leaving right now, though, since the water on both ends of our trip was close to 70 degrees. We saw 68 degrees on the southern end and 71 near the islands, where the albacore blessed us; so it might be wrong to draw inference from that.

It was a very nice day to be on the water, thanks to owner Steve Drogin. Thanks to Dan Walsh, too, for getting the whole thing together and for cooking his signature pizzas. If you haven’t been out on the water yet, you might want to do it pretty soon, while the kelps are holding fish and the migration is on. There are a lot of small yellowtail and dorado on the kelps. Please release those. It just doesn’t make sense to kill next year’s fish.

By Bill Roecker

Skipper Andy Cates eased the Red Rooster III out of her berth at H&M June 19 with 23 eager anglers aboard, and headed toward the bait receivers near the mouth of San Diego Bay. The Everingham Brothers supplied the 105-foot long ranger with all the sardines her tanks and slammers would hold, and Cates headed south, on the eight-day Thom Hultgen Memorial charter. Cameraman Paul Sweeney and I were there at the invitation of George Daniels, chartermaster and Hultgen’s son.

The next day we reached the area where bluefin and albacore have been reported for several weeks. The place was easy to find, marked as it was by numerous seiners, many of them “pen boats” taking live fish to fatten. All appeared to be idle, waiting for something to happen. The first biters were small albacore. They rushed the boat and left shortly after tangling several bait fishermen in the upwind corner. Three or four found their way onto the Rooster.

“Microcore,” observed one wag.

The next biters were bluefin. Dan Romo of Bakersfield, a trucker and dedicated angler, got one of the first two with a cedar plug.

“This thing’s about 20 years old,” he remarked.

“It looks like it,” I said. “I like the natural finish myself.”

Bob Novielli of Costa Mesa got the first bluefin on bait, using a sardine on a 3/0 ringed Mustad Hoodlum tied to 30-pound line on what he called “…an old E-Glass Calstar. On his second run he went deep.”

Alec Robbie, 15, of Santa Margarita plays deep safety and wrestles at Tesoro High. He got about all the wrestling he needed when he hooked a bluefin that later weighed over 32 pounds on 20-pound Mustad line and a ringed 94150 hook, the long-time standard. He used an outfit I lent him, with a 197 Accurate reel and a Seeker Black Steel 660 XF rod, coaxing the fish to gaff in some 25 minutes. No doubt his confidence was built, since he said he’d never caught a tuna on light tackle before.

Later that day Mike Reese of El Cajon got the first yellowfin of the trip, on a trolled Mexican Flag hexhead he said was either a Tady or Sumo jig. We spent that day trolling around the commercial fleet, picking up 10 bluefin, seven albacore and the one yellowfin. We looked in a couple of gullets to find many small mackerel, tiny squid and a few long-beaked, three-inch sauries or maybe snipefish.

Fishing like that wasn’t going to cut it with skipper Cates, who spent the last 15 years or so proving he’s one of the long range fleet’s best tuna fishermen. On the same flat calm seas we’d been enjoying since we left San Diego, he called us into the galley that evening and said we were going to Cedros Island to check things out the next day.

We had a drawing that night, after every angler had received a bagful of goodies courtesy of FishingVideos.com’s sponsors, and everyone got one more prize. Top winner was Danny Romo, who proved his luck hadn’t run out by copping the Accurate 197 reel donated by Jack Nilsen. The sponsors were most generous, and deserve mention here: An appreciative thanks goes to AA’s, Accurate, AFTCO, Cal’s Two-Speed Reels, Catchy Tackle, Cofe Products, Fish Trap Lures, Flexx-Rap, Hayabusa, Izorline, Line One Spectra, Maxima, Mustad, Rod Knobie, Salas, Seaguar, Seeker Rods, Tady Lures, Yo-Zuri and Zucker’s.

Two more drawings were held during the trip, and the fortunate anglers aboard wanted me to express their thanks, especially for the “dinner jigs”” served with each evening’s meal; iron from Tady, Salas and Catchy Tackle, and new “Double Diamond” plastic swim baits from AA’s and Tony Paino. Those plastics earned kudos later, at Augustine, the southwest point of Cedros Island. All the manufacturers offered items the anglers could use on this trip, things appropriate for fishing 20 to 50-pound gear. There may be no better way to acquaint anglers with useful products than on a long range trip. There’s time to use the product, think about it and discuss it.

Our first visit to Cedros didn’t pay off. We arrived in a cold fog, and found little biting in some ugly muddy green water. Ted Crane of Costa Mesa caught the first yellowtail, then a seal ate the second. Skipper Cates headed out for Clam Bay, which was sunny but just as ugly water-wise, and then took us down to San Pablo, where we saw numerous schools of small yellowtail. They seemed willing, but not large enough to warrant taking, in the eight to 15-pound class. Cates decided to try The Ridge.

The sea still flat calm, we rolled downhill all night, and around eight a.m. tried the 23 Spot. Nada. We tried the next couple of spots for no more. Cates was beginning to sweat bullets, wondering if we had made a two-day mistake. He talked with Randy Toussaint on the Royal Star, who was headed for Alijos Rocks. Well, that gave us one more southern option. We pushed on toward our last Ridge opportunity, Thetis Bank.

Numerous schools of bait marked the slick surface at Thetis, encouraging several Bloodydecks.com jig casters aboard to fire out the iron as we set up to anchor. Our chartermaster George Daniels connected with his brand new Catchy 22 jig in mint color, and soon decked a nice yellowtail of over 20 pounds. Then we got the hook down and settled in to what became two days of biting yellowtail, with the exception of an amberjack caught by Alec Robbie. The fish bit at all times except near sunset.

I cast out a sardine on 25-pound line, and it was grabbed before it could swim ten yards. Nursing a sprained wrist, I fumbled the fish in, a 22-pounder, and asked deckhand Tom Ferrari for a release. By now everyone was busy. Cook Steve Lamb was asking for anglers to come in for lunch, but drawing a blank at the tables. Steve did a great job of feeding us through the whole trip, but right now food couldn’t compete with the fish. That bite lasted about five hours.

A few of the fish were only 12 to 15 pounds. The majority were 20 to 30 pounds, and a good number went up into the mid or high 30’s. Fishing with 25-pound Mustad line and 94150 ringed hooks on a new Accurate 197 two-speed reel, I found I had a hard time lifting these fish once they went down. OK, let’s try low gear. Wow! I could grind ‘em up toward me like a bass! This was a fine test for my new Super Seeker 660 XF, too, and it performed flawlessly. I gave the injured wrist a break by going to the rail.

The fish were biting surface jigs, Salas 7X and Tady 45’s, very well. They also bit sinking jigs, but few were fishing with those because the yellows were on live baits like flies on manure. I released a couple more, kept a couple of yellows that were badly hooked or large enough to dispatch without regret, and realized I needed to back off a notch on the pulling if I didn’t want to re-injure myself. Since I’d spent the last three weeks getting better, I went to Jay.

Angler Jay Ho of Buena Park wasn’t getting bit. He looked lonely, standing there with a straight rod in the midst of bent sticks. I got out a slightly heavier rig, a Super Seeker 6460 F rod and a new two-speed Accurate 870 N reel with 30-pound Seaguar fluorocarbon leader, 30-pound Izorline and 65-pound Line One Spectra backing. It only took a few seconds to make a yellowtail connection. I maneuvered next to Jay, handed him my rod and took his. He protested, but I was firm. He took the fish.

“Have you done this before?” I asked as he strained against the pull.

“This is the first time I’ve been out for more than one day,” he said.

“Well, if you’ll let me do it, I’ll show you how to hook ‘em,” I told him.

By the time Jay got his first yellow to the boat he was grinning. It was a nice 25-pounder, and he put his number on it and took his old rod back. I hooked another fish within seconds, and we did the same, “you take it,” gig and he gave up his stick, a little less reluctantly. So Jay and I settled into a long afternoon’s lesson about nose-hooking baits, casting them and keeping the line tight while allowing the bait to swim, and reeling them back so it looked like they were swimming under their own power.

I hooked a fish for Jay on his rig, a seven-foot rod with an old 4/0 reel. He was surprised, but reeled it in.

“Why is this one so much easier?” he asked, the next time I passed him a fish on my rig.

“Because it’s a narrow reel, and it doesn’t torque over to the side so much when you grind on it,” I told him. “And because it has a low gear, see?”

“Oh yeah,” he said, grinding away at 2-1. “You want to sell this reel?”

“Not this one. I just got it.”

After the basics, I helped Jay with the subtleties of bait fishing, how to tell the difference between a hot running bait and a take, where to throw the bait to get to the fish and avoid the other anglers, how to wind down to set the hook, how to judge if the bait was doing what it needed to do to provoke a bite. It takes years to learn these things, but Jay got a big head start in one afternoon, because the fish were hot to bite bait. I left Jay momentarily, and when I came back he was sporting a thumb-sized blister on the appendage.

“I tried to stop him with my thumb,” he said.

“Another lesson learned,” I replied.

Most anglers fished with 40 and 50-pound line, especially those plunging with torpedo sinkers and the hook on a loop above, and those throwing jigs with long rods.
But for small and medium-sized game fish, my feeling is that it’s something less than sporting to use line tests that are heavier than the weight of the fish being caught.

Some skippers disagree with that opinion, especially if they’re anxious to put fish on the boat or to prevent nimrods from sawing one another off. I’ll just note that the Red Rooster III is 105 feet long, with enough room to allow two dozen anglers to fish a mild current on the anchor without stepping on one other.

There was a brief ceremony for Thom Hultgen at sunset, with two minutes of silence after Cates read off a list of names of departed anglers, including the recently deceased Jorge Nicifore, the Rooster’s well-loved cook for decades. Corbett Paulen of Ocean Beach jigged up a big tan grouper after sunset. Everyone seemed to want to be in a picture with the beast. Peter J, who has a Newport Art Gallery, made a super Gyotaku print of the grouper, a “fish print” made by direct contact between fish and paper. Some odd-looking tropical bottom-dwellers, possibly rockfish, were also hoisted aboard.

Our second day of fishing on Thetis Bank was much like the first, except that we were ready to fish at dawn. Well, not all of us were ready. After the long day before, I slept in, showered and had breakfast before going on deck around seven.

“Boy, did you miss a wild bite,” someone said. “There were big ones biting in the gray!”

Bait was king on Thetis Bank. On the slick calm water we could see breezers of scad in many places. Every few moments a big yellowtail would slash and swirl 50 yards from the boat, sometimes even closer. We viewed free-swimming yellowtail just off the stern rail frequently. The tropic sun burned off the haze early, and it got hot when there was no breeze. Even when there was a breeze it didn’t ruffle the surface any more than the scad schools.

The morning bite lasted about six hours. It was possible most of that time to hook a yellowtail on surface iron. Seattle Boeing engineer Arvin Shajanian had a lot of fun with an ancient Lamiglas 12-footer, despite being teased about his “noodle.”

Jerry Morris, a certified addictions counselor from Ontario said, “I didn’t lose a jig the whole two days. The best one for me was the 7X in dorado color, but I also did well on the green sardine and blue and white.”

Like several others, Jerry got his yellowtail limit fishing iron with a long rod.

After lunch we departed for Alijos Rocks, with a dawn ETA. On the way west through miles of 70-degree green water that afternoon we caught numerous small yellowfin of 10 to 15 pounds on jig stops. One school bit for several minutes. Most of those fish were released, but some were tagged.

Skipper Cates and second skipper Joe D’Acquisto were up in the wheelhouse, where I learned Joe had done some commercial tuna fishing. We spotted the dorsal and tail top of a swordfish and turned on it. We were close enough for a mackerel throw when it sank out, but no one tried. The body could be seen clearly until then. I saw a second swordfish minutes later. It went down when we slowed, right next to the boat, maybe a 200-pounder. The first one looked to be 300 pounds.

We got to the Rocks under gray skies and a light breeze out of the northwest building a northwest swell. Royal Star was coming back from Alijos Bank, where she’s made a good catch of large yellowtail. Skipper Randy Toussaint told us he hadn’t seen any good tuna, but a few small ones were around. After several hours of bait fishing and trolling around the drop-offs, we had to agree. We still had a shot at Cedros, skipper Cates thought, and if we left now we’d get there the next morning. He asked his group, and got unanimous approval.

That night we hit the only normal offshore weather of the trip, a four-foot swell with a two-foot chop. It wasn’t rough enough to call it uncomfortable, but it was a real change from the lake we’d been sailing on.

Cedros Island still had a low ceiling, but the water had cleaned up nicely when we arrived at Augustine, on the Island’s southwest point. It was a cool 64 degrees, and plenty of terns, gulls, cormorants and pelicans were fishing outside the kelp. The weeds were loaded with willing calico bass of one to nine pounds. Second skipper Joe D’Acquisto and deckhands Nick Maurer and Moses Milton took two anglers at a time in the ship’s skiff to the very point at Augustine for hour-long bouts with the bass, until all who wished had a trip.

Those kelp bass were so accommodating it was almost sinful. They could be seen swimming in the watery foliage, said Moses, and they flashed out to lay teeth on the variety of plastic baits dropped into the holes in the weed. The new Double Diamonds were killer, the boys said. In truth, the bass were biting nails and anything else that they spotted encroaching their golden corridors.

The plastic baits had to be changed often as they became frazzled. Skipper Joe said his worst trip produced 12 bass, and the best one over 50. All were released.

“You’d hook one,” said Joe, “and there’d be four or five calico bass right behind it, trying to get the bait.”

While the bassing went on, the anglers on the stern amused themselves with more yellowtail. These fish were running close to 30 pounds on the average. I got one a little bigger than that up to the boat, and a sea lion grabbed it and took it out a hundred yards. He was too far to hear what I was saying, and by the way he treated the fish, probably didn’t care. Moses got the carcass back, but it was unusable for anything but fertilizer; belly gone and the back meat shredded down both sides like machaca.

“Gosh,” I said, or something like that.

We didn’t really need many more yellows to limit out, so no one griped when the bite slacked after lunch. That was a shrimp and yellowtail meal, done with rice in Creole style by cook Steve Lamb. Steve and his assistant John Wise did a good job for us three times a day, and for dinners we enjoyed barbequed ribs with clam chowder, rack of lamb (no pun intended), New York Steak and wahoo. Lunches of fish and chips (with fresh yellowtail and Steve’s family secret batter), pork tenderloin with cranberry sauce, and hefty cheeseburgers were also memorable. The food was good, classic American.

After everyone who wished went bassing in the skiff skipper Cates headed back out on calming seas for the albacore grounds. We got there at dawn the next day, and spent the rest of our fishing time driving around the drifting seiners, picking up some more albacore and a couple of yellowfin. One albie school bit for several minutes, but the rest of the trolling was hit and run.

The time came when we were out of time.

“Wind ‘em up, guys,” said skipper Andy over the p.a. system.

“Break down your gear and stow it away, because we’ve got to get going. I want to make it in tomorrow morning at seven.”

Cates pointed the Rooster’s beak toward home.

By Bill Roecker

Afire with neon blue, the marlin shimmied and snaked its way into the wake and the spread, coming in dead off the starboard side. Everyone saw it at once and made noisy note.

“He’s gonna eat it!” hollered Ben, holding the rod with the drop back bait, a small jack. It was already 30 feet back.

“He’s eatin’ it, he’s eatin’ it!” Ben swung on the fish, winding on the little silver reel, and the black rod bent hard. The marlin headed off right into the sun, back the way he’d come into the spread of trolled baits and lures.

Things got interesting in a hurry, with three men trying to use cameras, two men trying to get the rest of the trolled rigging out of the way before the fish fouled itself, and Ben, who was braced with one leg up on the rail, alternately pulling and winding on the fish.

It was a big cockpit, but at the moment there were traffic jams on both sides of the unused fighting chair. The marlin had disappeared off up past the deckhouse, but the skipper and John Ireland were shouting on the bridge that it had jumped.

When we got the invitation from Jack Nilsen of Accurate to join him at John Ireland’s Rancho Leonero to do a product shoot, Paul Sweeney and I packed our cameras and our bags. We traveled light, with little fishing equipment, since I knew Jack would have plenty of reels. I brought a couple of my new Super Seeker rods and a bag of jigs and Mustad hooks for light tackle fishing May 20 to 22.

We taxied from Los Cabos airport, arriving at the beginning of a sweet tropical Sea of Cortez evening to enjoy three days of first-class style angling aboard Ireland’s 50-foot Mikelson sportfisher Luna-Sea.

Rejoicing in the warm, light sea breeze, we saw the Ranch was lovely as ever, with improvements since our last visit a year ago. Ireland has renovated much, notably the bar/dining room, which has been opened up to be even more spacious and airy. For the first time, a wide-screen TV hangs on the wall at the far end of the bar, showing off a high-def satellite picture for those who want to keep up with things like the NBA conference finals.

Bartender Jorge and the rest of the staff were still there, so the place felt as homey as ever. A hurricane last year took out a couple of the wall-mounted fish hanging in the dining room, and I noticed the old lion skin was gone. But there was a new covering for part of the dining patio outside, and all the beds had been replaced with fancy new big pillow-top models, making for comfortable, healthy sleeping in the air-conditioned rooms and stone walled thatched bungalows.

There are several resorts at East Cape, and each has its own flavor and style, but I keep coming back to the Ranch because the place is smaller and more relaxed than most (Ireland calls it intimate), and it’s set away from the rest of the resorts, up on a small headland that gets sea breeze from two sides. If you’ve got shade, the breeze keeps you cool at the Ranch, and the view flat out cannot be beat.

Food is good, and varied daily here. Wells tap plenty of cool, clean water, enough to keep the grounds so green the resort looks like a little paradise, where mountains and Baja desert meet miles of white beach and the deep blue waters of the Cortez.

Fishing begins about ten yards from the beach, and you seldom have to ride more than a very few miles before you can find something biting, like marlin, tuna, sailfish, dorado, snapper, roosterfish or two dozen other sporting species.

Jack Nilsen and Ben Secrest, Accurate vice president of sales and marketing, wanted Paul Sweeney and I to get video and stills of some new gear. They had three spinning reels: named 30, 20 and 12, and two-speed Boss conventional reels with them, from the tiny 197 up to the 665 series. They also had a new line of Accurate rods to match the reels, made from light, slender but strong high-modulus graphite. Accurate makes two-speed, (with and without the pre-set drag mechanism) twin-drag reels all the way up to the 130 International size, but for this event the gear was small, light and easy to handle.

Small doesn’t mean little in terms of line strength, however. Most of the reels were loaded with 50 to 80-pound Spectra, with a short topshot of mono or fluorocarbon, a leader that could be easily changed to match the targeted species. Our first morning of fishing was spent catching snapper and cabrilla, which were plentiful just a quarter mile from the portable loading pier where anglers board their pangas and cruisers each day around seven a.m.

Several types of snappers are available here, and some get so large they can be a serious challenge on heavy tackle. Snapper are about the only game fish I’ve caught that are even better at getting into the rocks as yellowtail. On this morning I got a couple on my new 665 F Super Seeker with an 870 N two-speed Accurate and two with the light version of Jack’s new spinning outfit.

Fish were thick on this rockpile. We found plenty of Pargo Amarillo, or yellowtail snapper of two to six pounds. They bit best on 20 to 30-pound mono and a 1/0 hook. I like to use a ringed Mustad circle hook for this type of fishing, and with a larger bait, I’d size up the hook. The local guides make their own ringed hooks by tying a loop or perfection knot, which gives the bait a similar mobility.

Pargo and their cabrilla buddies bit well on sardinas. These baitfish look very much like western herring or eastern pilchard, with a single dark spot aft center of the gill plate like the row of spots that run down the sides of sardines. The guides suggest stunning the bait, to make it easier for the snappers to run down. I tried baits both ways, stunned and not stunned, and found the guides knew what they were talking about, though I also caught a couple of snapper on speedy, unimpeded baits.

After we were done with the snapper and cabrilla we moved southward, and Ben and Jack made some deep drops in 200 to 300 feet with knife jigs, which produced whitefish and a bright orange-red popeye catalufa. It could have been a glasseye, but I can’t tell the difference. They had outfits set up for the purpose.

We tried slow-trolling mullet for roosterfish next, off the lighthouse at Punta Arena. We got one looker but no takers. Two anglers in a skiff showed us a 30-pound yellowfin they said they had caught right there, but we saw no tuna sign. This is a great place to find jack crevalle, but on our days here those fish didn’t show. Many shore anglers love this place for its proximity to deep water. A determined beach fisherman might manage to hook a marlin or a tuna here because of the drop-off and the currents circulating up to the sandy spit.



We spent the rest of our time fishing for marlin, so we could document the use of the new light Accurate gear on larger, more powerful fish. That first afternoon, we drew a blank.

The next day, we could sense a change coming, as the breeze picked up a bit earlier, from the east-southeast. It died and then went to the south. We trolled live mullet, rigged dead ballyhoo, and skirted jigs. During the afternoon, we raised two marlin. Both came into the spread, but refused. Just shopping.

On our last day there was a big change. The breeze came up shortly after dawn, and reached 15 or 20 knots, out of the south. The palms around the pool pointed their fronds downwind, and whitecaps danced over a sloshy chop.

“It’s going to lay down,” predicted both owner John Ireland and foreman Gary Barnes-Webb. We boarded Ireland’s Luna-Sea again. Not knowing what to expect, we moved off toward the waters a few miles out from the lighthouse, where we’d come close to billfish the day before.

As predicted, the breeze lay down. But that didn’t help the fishing. The water smoothed off, but we couldn’t see a fish anywhere, not even the jumpers we’d been watching and chasing the past two days.

Before lunch, the wind suddenly picked up again. Within an hour, the cobalt Cortez was capped with white as far as you could see. The chop got up to three or four feet in a jiffy. If we’d been in a panga it would have been dangerous to fish. In a small cruiser it would have been uncomfortable. On the 50-foot Luna-Sea we weren’t much affected, although we sometimes lurched a bit in a head sea. I enjoyed my lunch of a dried beef burrito and a ham and cheese sandwich, with chips, an apple and a diet cola.

The breezy, choppy, sloppy conditions made a marlin miracle. We started seeing tailers, jumpers, even feeders in the white-capped blue waves. It wasn’t long before that first one took that dropped-back bait. Ben Secrest worked the fish over while our skipper Gaspar ran the boat to his best advantage. The new Accurate outfit Ben fished with worked just like it should, putting pressure on the striper, picking up any slack with its high-speed gear ratio, while Ben shifted to make the most of any situation.

A rigged ballyhoo on a 9/0 Mustad 7691 hook got the bite, and the rest of the outfit used 80-pound Blackwater hollow core Spectra and 100-pound Blackwater flourocarbon leader on an Accurate 665 two-speed reel and an Accurate 7040 C rod.

Paul kept the Sony HD camcorder winding, recording on tape while Ben was winding line, and three cameramen worked around each other on the deck as Jack shot his photos from the bridge. It was only 10 or 12 minutes before Secrest had the marlin whipped enough to get it boatside for a release. We all celebrated, and began to relax; our mission was at least partly accomplished.

We kept seeing marlin tailing and we sidled up to many to show them the goods, but the wind slacked off and they seemed to lose interest accordingly. Then there was a long period, maybe an hour without a sighting. I napped in Ireland’s leather-lined salon, on a long sofa-seat at the table.

I awoke to shouting. Another fish had come in for a nibble, but we missed him. I went out on the after deck to see the wind had picked up again. We began to see more marlin, some jumping in the distance, a few feeding and slashing at the choppy surface, and more tailing downwind. We were about out of time, said Ireland, who needed to host at home that evening.

Then we hung another fish. Secrest had it on a lighter outfit, and this one looked to be a bit bigger. Ben’s rig on this fish was a rigged ballyhoo on a 9/0 Mustad 7691 hook tied to 65-pound Blackwater Spectra and 80-pound Blackwater Fluoro on an 870 N two-speed Accurate reel and a Accurate 7030 C rod.

This fish gave us little aerial show, and like the other fish, seemed to want to sidle off up toward the bow, across the wind and chop. Backing into the chop brought water splashes up over the transom, and soon Ben was soaked on his front side, but in control of the fish.

A couple of turns by the skipper and Ben’s hard pulling had the marlin up to the boat, where all the shooters tried to get a shot before it was released. It was over before I could get in there.

Moments later we got one more bite, and LA County fireman-engineer Wayne Shimabukuro played the fish for a moment before it freed itself. We had what we needed, and it was late in the afternoon. We saw more than 40 marlin. We tried to present to at least eight of them. We had some good looks, a couple of whacks, and Ben got a brace of beaks to the boat. It was a satisfaction.

The ice chest produced cold bottles of Pacifico beer and limes. We toasted our good fortune as skipper Gaspar pointed the big Mikelson downwind and north toward The Ranch. The ride flattened out and the wake wave rose nearly to the height of the transom.

The shadow of the big bridge kept us in the shade as we kicked back to enjoy a smooth ride, thanks to Jack Nilsen and John Ireland, and the end of a good adventure.

We loaded bait at Everingham Brothers receivers October 16, before heading into moderate seas on our way south. The swell and chop increased over the next few days, but going downhill on the new 110-foot stabilized sportfisher Intrepid, we were totally comfortable. We felt a little yaw but no roll as we surfed along.

Next day, after we had our orientation and tackle talks from skipper Dan Nichols and second skipper Kevin Cleary, chartermaster Wayne Martin of Catchy Tackle handed out packages of Catchy 33 jigs, Spinnerhead wahoo bombs, hats and coffee cups. Wayne also donated numerous 26-ounce Spinnerhead wahoo trolling jigs. One of those bagged the only wahoo of the trip for Milo Rivera next day.

We ate like kings during this long trip, with Chef Javier Quintanar and his brother Hector preparing five-star meals and snacks. Javier wowed us with his trademark seafood mountain one afternoon for our snack. We also enjoyed a platter of smoked fish from processor Mario Ghio of Sportsmen’s Seafoods. Mario and Five-Star fish Processing met us at the dock at the end of the trip to cut and wrap, smoke or jerk the catch.

Accurate, Mustad, AFTCO and other sponsors for FishingVideos.com made the trip memorable for our 17 anglers with gift packages that included the 2008 Sportfishing Calendar and assorted hooks and free spoolings of 40, 50 and 60-pound Mustad Ultra Pro Plus line for all aboard. There was also a drawing for some valuable prizes. Ted Crane of Huntington Beach won a new Accurate 870 reel, and Mark Winbigler won a spanking new AFTCO Socorro belt and harness. A donated Mustad Ultra Point 4/0 hook later caught the jackpot fish.

Our first fishing began at the 13 Spot, shortly after Milo bagged that wahoo. Nichols anchored Intrepid, and small tuna and yellowtail showed the eagerness characteristic of the place, known as very productive among long rangers. The 13 is the first of a series of high spots along a 60-mile rise called The Ridge. Big sheephead were biting on the bottom, but at 72 degrees it was a bit too cool for pargo or grouper. A year ago it was 80 there.

The water was green, off-color, but that didn’t inhibit the fierce little tuna and jacks. The five to 20-pounders took flylined sardines and iron jigs like the Catchy 33’s or Salas and Tady iron in four to six-ounce weights. The latest reports indicated the water at Alijos Rocks was dirty and 68 degrees, which prompted the skipper’s choice of fishing down The Ridge.

We came across a pod of sperm whales, more of them than anyone on the boat had ever seen together, maybe 30 or 40. A few were large adults, 50 or more feet long; most of the whales were smaller. They moved very slowly on the surface, spouting forward with low plumes. We were awed by the sight of their black, barrel-shaped heads, but not so much that the anglers didn’t try to fish while they watched. The whales seemed unconcerned by our nearby presence. They looked like they were watching us. Maybe they were resting after a dive, since the species is known to favor squid, and to dive to extreme depths to catch their prey.

Conditions at each high spot grew worse as we pushed south. Little was caught at the next couple of spots, so skipper Nichols elected to keep going to the end. We stopped at Thetis Bank and fished on the high spots there to no avail. Nothing showed on the meters or on the surface. There were a few birds around, but they weren’t doing anything except sitting. We headed for the southern banks, where the best recent catches of yellowfin had been made.

Yellowfin are the staple of the long range fleet, but after an unprecedented year for big fish (almost ten times the normal catch) two seasons ago, tuna fishing has been tougher, and not just for yellowfin. Fishing for cool water tuna (albacore and bluefin) this past summer was also difficult. Many short trips opting to fish yellowtail at Cedros and the Benitos Islands rather than trying to coax visible but reluctant albacore. Bluefin were rarely seen.

After another day’s travel we got to the outer southern banks. We found clean water of 76 to 78 degrees there, with a couple of other boats fishing along a temperature break. The blue water had small amounts of baitfish and pelagic “red crab” in it. We looked at bird school and sparse meter marks for two days. It was breezy, 15 to 18 knots with a six to eight-foot swell and some chop.

We found three schools of tuna under diving terns and shearwaters, but were rewarded with just a few smallish tuna for our efforts. We could see the other boats through our heavy lenses on the forebridge, but they weren’t doing much either, just driving around the area like we were.

There were plenty of marlin around. Everybody seemed to hook two or three stripers, but we weren’t after marlin. The stripers were very good at releasing themselves, although we had to handle at least one fish that ate a trolled Spinnerhead. It swam away as though it was feeling all right. Our next move, said the skipper, would be to the Spud.

We rolled up on the Potato Bank about dark. No life showed on the bottom, according to the down scanning sonar. No life came to the lights, either. Often olive grouper bite at the spot, but not this day. Several hours later the anchor came up and we headed southeast, to see if there were tuna closer to Cabo San Lucas.

We awoke offshore, somewhere between and outside of the Jaime and Golden Gate banks. A huge marlin tournament was going on there, we heard, but we were miles away so as not to interfere. Marlin pestered our trolled jigs some, but we saw no tuna sign. Some boobies accompanied us for several miles as we began to work back to the northwest. They dove after the flying fish we raised.

We came upon some “shark buoys,” two ends of a wadded-up longline. I caught a small dorado there, and we saw more of them, but it didn’t look like the rig had been in the water very long. There were marlin there, too, of course. The clean blue 80-degree water just didn’t seem to be holding tuna.

We cruised along in quiet style. Intrepid rolls so little while underway it’s surprising, especially when the boat’s in the trough. Long bunks and fine sheets and blankets make for a good rest while motoring. The galley is a pleasure, with comfy booth seating, three big flat screen displays, superior coffee makers and soft drinks from a fountain. You can enjoy the expected San Diego long range-style meal service at your table. Showers are large and easy to clean. The rig has five heads for anglers, excellent bait capacity and plenty of tackle space, although the top rack is a bit high for a six-footer to see into a tackle box.

At the end of the day we were back in the zone, at the outside southern banks. Two or three long rangers were there with us, cruising around, looking for some tuna business. We got a couple of fish at a couple of stops, and then finally had some luck.

A large bird school of shearwaters, terns and boobies showed us breaking tuna just before sunset. We rolled up to the head of the event, which was headed into the northwest breeze, and yellowfin charged the boat. Just about everyone who put a sardine out got bit quickly. The drift and the hooked-up tuna pulled most anglers into the upwind stern corner. Numerous fish were lost in tangles and cross-overs, but others came to gaff quickly, because they were 15 to 25-pounders.

Some of the tuna were bigger. That was the good news. The bad news was that no one had a heavy rig in use. Ron Adamson of Gig harbor, WA was fishing with 50-pound line, and got the eventual jackpot-winning 70.8-pound yellowfin during the sunsetter. But there were a few tuna over 100 pounds in that brief bite, and the first one bit on chartermaster Wayne Martin’s 40-pound rig. Wayne tussled with the beast for a while, and then kindly handed it off to rookie long ranger Josh Neff of Arcata.

Josh was in excellent physical shape, and pulled long and hard on the tuna. Over an hour later, we could see it coming up off the bow, when the fish decided to go down the starboard side. It gained line during the move. When Josh had it back to the bow again the tuna, which looked to be 120 pounds or more, was no longer visible. The stalemate was ended when the big yellowfin broke off.

“That was our first real bite,” said skipper Nichols at dinner shortly after. “We can stay here a maximum of two more days, but if we do that we’ll have to straight-line it for home. I think we’ll definitely stay here tomorrow to see if we can do this again; things are finally starting to look right.”

The anglers voted with the skipper. We’d stay another day at least.

In the morning sea conditions were the best of the trip so far, with subsiding swells and fading chop. A few frigate birds were around, and we had a couple of tuna contacts that put fish on the boat, but no bite per se. Late in the morning a bird school got us excited and we got on biting fish again. They were dorado, and they were eager and plentiful.

Everyone was bit all at once again. Hooked fish were jumping everywhere around the rear half of Intrepid.

The bite continued to lunchtime, when we were limited out with six each. Twice during the bite I looked down swell to see the main body of fish, which didn’t come close to the boat. The main school of dorado was about 300 yards long and at least 100 yards across. I couldn’t see how deep it went, but the number of fish there was staggering. They were mostly 10 to 25 pounds.

A single tuna bit during the first part of the dorado melee. It was a 52-pounder that beat up Ben Cambron of San Jose for about an hour. Ben fought his fish back and forth across the stern, and somehow avoided disaster with gyrating dorado time after time. Ben won out in the end, and posed with his tuna, which later won third place.

We fished, drifting in a light, abating breeze through the rest of the long afternoon and had two more tuna schools near the boat. One bunch showed well but didn’t bite at all. Small groups of tuna kept coming up, jumping and giving us brief shows a hundred yards down swell. Anglers resorted to fishing sardines under balloons and squid under the kite. Milo Rivera got his 85-pound tuna on a squid with the fishing kite. A couple of other tuna were hooked and caught on flylined sardines.

A big tuna bit on Jason Winbigler’s sardine. Jason is a firefighter from San Bernadino. His 40-pound outfit was stressed to the max, and the fish took him around the boat at least once. Most of that fight was also on the bow, but during the later stages it went down the starboard side and came up off the port stern corner. He might had got the fish right there, but he was getting tired, and the rig was light for the fish. It went up the port side and back to the bow to sulk, and that’s where it eventually chewed off the line and freed itself.

Saddened a bit by the loss, Jason was able to console himself with the second-place fish at the trip’s end, a 54.6-pounder. He like almost all of the anglers hooked several marlin that day and the day before. The stripers put on some great airborne shows.

Jason’s dad Mark Winbigler, also of San Bernadino, had better luck with his tuna, which was a bit smaller. Mark handled his tuna and got it to gaff, and then posed with the yellowfin cradled in his arms.

As it grew dark that day, we saw no fish and no birds. The breeze died, and we watched the sun slip below the ocean in quiet solitude. No sunsetter today. Skipper Nichols cranked up the Intrepid’s quiet engines and we motored north while enjoying a rack of lamb dinner prepared by the Quintanar brothers.

We got to the 23 Spot next morning. The bottom was paved with red rockfish of a Mexican species that has a reputation for inedibility. When the next long ranger came up behind us we left the spot and went back to the 13 Spot, which was still producing small tuna and yellowtail with great regularity. These willing fish bit on bait and jigs. Many of the larger yellowtail came on yo-yoed iron. By the end of the day most had filled out their limits.

Cedros Island was the next day’s destination. The last of the breeze died as we approached, and the skipper determined that 62-degree dirty water wouldn’t work out, so he pointed the boat westerly, toward the Benitos Islands.

The water had pretty much gone flat greasy calm when we got out there, and it stayed that way for the rest of the trip. We could see a dirty haze on the shore and the horizon that may have been evidence of the fires that were burning in San Diego and Orange Counties. There was a bit of yellowtail action and Jason came up with a ten-pound calico bass, which he released. We left at dusk.

Big ling cod were biting the next day, south of San Martin Island and at a couple of sports just to the north of the volcanic island. Blue whales broached and fluked in the distance. We had time for a couple of hours of rock fishing and headed for the barn.

That last dinner was another great one made by Javier, a tasty lobster-steak combination that sent us to our bunks full to the gills. We docked at Point Loma Sportfishing the next morning at six, sorted the fish, and went home tanned and well-fed. Thanks to the Intrepid for a great ride, superb food, some fishing moments that were hard to get, and some that won’t be forgotten.

Specifically, thanks to Accurate, Mustad, AFTCO and other sponsors for numerous prizes and gifts; and thanks to skipper Dan Nichols, second skipper Kevin Cleary and engineer John Hartwell, crewmen Rick Kelly and Chad Smith. Javier and Hector Quintanar deserve a special mention for incredible cusine.

Intrepid arrived at Pt. Loma Sportfishing October 26 after a ten-day Catchy Tackle trip with 17 anglers. Yellowfin tuna swept the jackpot after skipper Dan Nichols weighed the fish.

Intrepid Winners: A 10-day trip to the southern banks paid off for these anglers.

Ron Adamson of Gig Harbor, WA won first place for a 70.8-pound tuna he bagged with a sardine on a 4/0 Mustad Ultra Point hook. Ron fished with 50-pound line, an Avet reel and a six and a half-foot custom rod.

Jason Winbigler of San Bernadino won second place for a 54.6-pound tuna, and Ben Cambron of San Jose took third place with a 52-pound tuna. Milo Rivera of Riverside joined the winners with his honorable mention fish, an 85-pound yellowfin he caught on the kite.

A day and a half trip aboard the new Intrepid with skipper Danny Nichols showed me and 23 other anglers aboard an awful lot of albacore. That good news was offset a bit by the lack of willing biters. We fished from dawn to dusk, and caught fish at all times of the day, but never very many at once. It was a great day on the water, but that was the downside.

“This is what we’ve been looking at most of the summer,“ said Nichols. “There’s plenty of fish around, but they don’t want to bite. “

The albies could be seen for a long way on seas that were almost calm; just a five or ten-knot breeze and an easy light swell and very minor chop coming out of the northwest. The fish were up on the surface, feeding on small bait that looked like sardines and anchovies. We saw thousands of albacore splashing and tearing around on the meatballs they’d pushed up.

Terns, shearwaters and gulls took full advantage of the action, marking the schools so well it would be hard to miss them. We found other fish on the sonar gear, at ten or 15 fathoms, and got a few of those to rise to the chum, too. We even caught a few of them. At times we had feeding albies within casting distance, but most still wouldn’t bite on our sardines or on the jigs a couple of fishermen tossed at them. We had large and small sardines, but few “tweeners,“ which might have matched the size of the bait the fish were so intently eating.

A hard-to-catch albacore is about to come aboard the newest San Diego long-ranger, the Intrepid.

There were numerous boats in the area. Most had the same experience, repeated all day long. It was exciting to slide up on the schools, and we got enough fish to keep everyone at the rail all day. High man on the boat had five albies, but many of us, including myself, only got one or two. I got mine on 20-pound Mustad Ultra Pro line, with a tippet of 20-pound Seaguar fluorocarbon and a 1/0 ringed Ultra Point hook.

Most of us got one or two fish. John Chisholm, son of Bruce and Eunice Chisholm, both lifetime long rangers, had his son J.P. with him. Each had a single hookup with a fight, but J. P. lost his albie. John got his late in the sunny afternoon. Just before sunset we had a last little flurry of biters.

Nearly all our fish were caught on light line, fluorocarbon leader and small hooks. One angler was using size 2 hooks; about as small as you could get away with on fish of 20 to 35 pounds. If you go to a hook size that’s too small there’s serious risk of losing a larger fish, and there were a few, a very few, bluefin in the schools of jumpers.

Naturally, I located one on my 20-pound outfit. I knew it was a larger fish right away, when it bit and swam back at the boat, going down fast and making the spool on my little 197 Accurate Boss reel hum. Then the fish went across the stern, still diving, and brought several other angler’s lines with it. We got to the corner, and the fish went up the rail, but I had to wait until the deckhands could free me from a half-dozen lines.

When I got loose, the fish had most of my line and was motating hard 30 degrees to port of the bow. I chased him up there, and when I got to the Intrepid’s front end I had maybe 30 wraps of line left on the reel. The drag was about as tight as I could go without breaking the line, so I pointed the rod at the sky overhead, to no avail. Shortly I was down to ten wraps, facing a dilemma: let him take it all, and likely break it off at the reel and maybe kill the fish by dragging it around; or just tighten up a little more and try to turn the fish.

I used my fingers, but couldn’t make him stop. The line went slack. When I reeled in it was broken in the middle of the fluorocarbon leader. I felt glad for the fish to be freed that way. I went to 30-pound line and fluoro next, but the only fish I got with that was a small yellowfin, which I released. It bit in the middle of a school of jumping albacore, just as the big fish, likely a bluefin, had done.

We were treated like royalty or politicians aboard the Intrepid. The new boat, with its white birch interior woodwork, extra-long bunks and circular booth salon seating is more than comfortable. Stabilizers make it track like it rides on rails. Chef Javier Quintanar had the trip off, but his brother Hector filled in with excellent meals. Before we started home after dark we were treated to a fine steak (cooked to order) dinner with corn on the cob and baked potato, with a superb green salad and triple-layer chocolate cake. All of it was served by deckhand Cameron Casper, on china with upscale silverware.

At the morning weigh-in, skipper Nichols named Duane Gray's 35.6-pound albie the winner. Duane got his fish with a brand new rod. He used a 3/0 Gorilla hook, 30-pound Blackwater fluorocarbon leader and 30-pound Izorline on a Saltiga 30 reel and an 800 L Calstar rod wrapped by Taka Tanaka.

The Intrepid is a lovely new boat, and from my brief experience, she rides as good as she looks. Camerman Paul Sweeney and I are looking forward to a Catchy Tackle ten-day adventure aboard the new rig, from October 16 to 26. There may be a spot or two left on that trip, so if you’d like to join us for a “riding on rails“ experience to the hot spot fishing off southern Baja, call Carol Wood at (530) 472-1658.