Eyeballs and Space Fridges

I had barely gotten the fifth lure in the water when the long line went tight, line screaming off the reel as a solid bigeye charged away from the boat. I turned around just in time to watch three spreader bars have “space refrigerators** dropped on them” as bigeye tuna wolf packed our spread. It was 8 hours later that we would realize how truly epic a trip we’d had.

2am the night before I had been laying wide awake in bed, hopes of sleeping proving as fruitless as usual when leaving for the canyons in the morning. An eternity later, 3am rolled around and I hopped out of bed to make my ritualistic pre-tuna trip eggs. 

 

. . .

 

A mix of emotions surged through me as 1050 horsepower of outboard engines rocketed us south of Martha’s Vineyard. An average canyons run for us is around 100 miles, but the night before I had made the call to shoot the extra 50 miles, even further from home, in pursuit of what a buddy had called one of the most incredible bites he had ever seen. Now more than 2.5 hours into the trip there, I stepped out from behind the center console to feel the breeze and wake myself up. Running 55 miles an hour, the breeze was more like a brick wall and I lunged for a hand hold while being thrown off balance. There is a reason we joke that the 39 Invincible is a spaceship, not a boat. I was definitely awake after that. 

With 2 hours left in the run I was wondering if there would be any life. With an hour left in the run I was hoping we would see something. As I readied the spread with 30 minutes left I was praying I’d made the right call. 1 mile to go and I was nervous to sip my coffee, hands shaking incessantly. I’d been waiting two weeks to sit where I was. 3+ hours of running, over a thousand dollars in gas and a sleepless night had gone into planning this trip and we were finally there. Pulling back on the throttles, I threw in the first lure of the day with only one other boat in sight. Little did I know it would be the most action-packed day of tuna fishing I’d ever experienced.

 

** “Space refrigerators” references the appearance of a bigeye tuna attacking the baits. The splashes are so huge it looks as if refrigerators were dropped from outer space.

“Guide”

Over the years I have been incredibly fortunate to make some of my best friendships on the water and spend time with the guys I consider my brothers while chasing fish. A day that will forever stand out in my memory unfolded in July of 2018. On the ride out of the harbor I had pronounced myself the “guide” that day, not that this friend needs a guide by any means. As we rolled up to an expansive feed of stripers chasing sandeels, Quinn stripped line off his 8 weight flyrod and readied himself on the bow. Before I knew what had happened he was strip setting on a solid 30” fish. He soon claimed his arm was tired (of which I was skeptical) and that I needed to take a few casts, for which I was more than excited. It would surprise me if he remembered this day but it was one I could never forget. 

 

A year earlier, I was slapped awake at 6am after a long night of fishing. Reluctant to leave the comfort of my covers, Graham coaxed me onto my feet and out the door. An hour later we were covered up by 30 to 40 pound stripers, none of which we would end up catching. The ones that get away seem to be implanted in our minds even more firmly than those we catch. 

 

Although seemingly unconnected, these brief anecdotes of two of my favorite days on the water hold one thing in common – the immense gratitude I have for the friends/family that constantly push me on the water, wake me up to chase fish, keep me on my feet at the end of a long school day with a simple text, motivate me and make me smile when everything else fails. There is nothing better than friends like these.