As is par for the course on trips like this, any time there is something worth photographing, I am fishing hard...so I didn't take many pics.

That being said, there is a drop box that the crew is throwing pics in, and I am sure I will be able to snag a few to make it interesting.

This trip last year was all about fast action and big numbers...we hit giant schools of YFT and yellowtail, and I brought home 42 fish for 2 1/2 days of fishing. It was a lot of action and a lot of fish.

This year we specifically asked the Captain to get us on the elusive and finicky bluefins...I'll admit, I wasn't exactly on board with the plan, as I liked catching a ton of fish, but I did want some BFT for the sushi, so that's what we did.

First day it was really windy and really big water, and half the crew didn't even fish...it was schitty conditions from the harbor all the way to the fishing grounds, all night, and many of them spent all night puking...they were in no condition to fish once it got light.

For the eight of us who did fish, it was well worth it.

The BFT are really line shy, skittish, and do not like coming anywhere near the boat...the only reason we managed such a good day was the conditions were so bad that they weren't as spooky as usual. They still wouldn't come anywhere near the boat, though, and while the crew and seasoned anglers laughed at my Lexa 400 on a 15-30 Trevala rod, they didn't laugh when I could cast a live sardine far enough to get to the fish easily enough.

Day one, eight anglers, 25 hookups, and I was lucky enough to gather in 12 of those hookups.

Average schoolie blues, 30-40, maybe 45, is what most the fish we landed that day were...though we got on a school of bigger ones, and we all hooked a couple, but we only landed three out of 15 or 16 hookups...an 80, a 75, and a 70. I landed the 70 on that light rod, 50# braid with a 40# fluorocarbon topshot.

That was fuckin brutal. 90 minutes of kicking my ass, but I got her in.

I couple of hours later we saw some mondo beasts breaking the surface a few hundred yards out, and after chasing them a couple of times, the Captain asked me if I wanted to pull out the 50 wide and do a kite fish...which I mistakenly thought might be fun.

Up goes the kite, out goes a 2 pound flying fish hanging from it, and you reel it up about 20' about the water, and then let it splash...and after a few splashes I had one blast it right on the surface, looked like a torpedo blew up. Somehow it managed to completely mangle, and then remove half of, the flying fish...reeled it all back up, rebaited, and sent it out again.

Didn't miss it this time, and the game was on.

Penn International 50 wide, 200# mainline, 150# mono leader, and a six foot rod approximately the action of a piece of fuckin rebar. The drag was tightened to the maximum it would go, and that damn fish tried to pull me overboard about ten times.

It was 90-something degrees out, 25 knot winds, and the boat was bouncing all over the place, and I had an angry Volkswagen on a long leash trying to kill me...for 90 minutes, again.

Long story short on that one, eventually I got it to the boat and three gaff men yarded it over the side, and that was about the happiest I'd ever been to land a damn fish. Hot, sweaty, and beat-to-schit...but it was onboard!

They measured it and estimated it at 180, and while I was fighting it another fella on the boat who clearly didn't notice how much this sucked hooked another one on the kite rig. I had mine butchered on board (for $144...eek)...he handed his to the processors on shore, whole, and they weighed it at 155. Mine was bigger, but I don't think it was 25 or 30 pounds bigger, I would wager that it was more like 165 or 170, but quibbling over a few pounds when it's that fuckin big...nah. It was huge, that's for certain.

It was now about noon, I had hooked 12 fish, landed 6, and two were oversized. I was done for the day...done done. Drank beer and watched the fishing get slower as the day progressed, but watched my buddies get a few more.

My plan the next morning was to sleep in, fish when I felt like it, or not, and take it a lot easier than the day before...and for those of you who have fished or hunted with me, you know that "taking it easy" and not participating is not exactly in my genes. I was up at 6am again, but did manage to drink coffee thru the first two bait stops, which were completely unproductive.

When the third bait stop came along I popped up and grabbed my "heavy" rod...which is not heavy at all. It's the one I use for halibut and deepwater lings around here, it's a 6'6" Shimano inshore rod with a Shimano reel, 80# braid, and my trusty 40# topshot.

First cast on the third stop I heaved my sardine into a boil, and it was immediately snatched up...and 300 yards of line left my reel like it wasn't even there. That was the only hookup on that stop, so after about 30 minutes the rest of the crew stopped fishing and watched me being toyed with by an outsized donger...first glimpse of the fish was on the surface about 80 yards out after 45 minutes of ripping around, and the 60 year old deckhand gave a hearty "Holy Schit!"...usually you don't hook the bigger ones on the live bait, those fish never come close enough to the boat.

Anyways...my magic number of minutes is apparently "90", because that's how long I fought that one. Since no one else was fishing the Captain gave me a ton of helping driving the boat up on the fish so I was able to keep it less than 50 yards away for the second half of that fight, so we were seeing it frequently...it was big.

Had it in close enough that the gaff men were in position, but just couldn't get it quite close enough to seal the deal.

90 minutes in the fish's teeth finally sawed thru the 40# leader, and it broke off...it was about 10 feet straight down on its side, and I was giving it all I could to lift it up...five more feet and it would have been ours.

They estimated that one at 110-120, and said they had never seen anyone on their boat even come remotely that close to landing one of those outside of using the 50 wides and super heavy gear.

That was of small solace to me, and when it broke off I just leaned my rod against the gunwale, didn't say a word, went in the galley and grabbed a beer out of the fridge, and sat in there by myself for about 10 minutes until my hands stopped shaking enough to drink the beer...the crew and fishermen were nice enough to leave me alone with my thoughts for a while.

That was the only cast I took that day, and while losing that fish really really really sucked...it was really really really cool to have come that close on gear that light to a fish that big. Really cool.

Stayed up really late that night getting lit with four other dudes, drank all the wine on board, and had a great time...hit the rack about 1am.

Woke up at 6am the next morning to glass calm waters, even the swells were almost gone...and fishing was slow slow slow...we couldn't get anywhere near the bluefins in those conditions, and even when we spotted huge boiling schools, they disappeared if we got within 50 yards. I took maybe 30 casts that day, no hookups for me...it was so nice out that the entire fishing party of 16 managed to fish that day, at least, but there were only 5 fish caught all day, all smaller schoolies, and a two bonus yellowtail, too.

Final tally for the weekend...51 hookups, 28 fish landed, and I got my six (it's a two fish per person, per day, limit on the BFT)...but I got them all on Day 1.

We had a 180, a 155, an 80, 75, and 70...and 23 between 30 and 45 pounds...plus those two yellowtail. Nothing else other than a couple of sharks.

I still preferred the year before when it was YFT and YT as fast as you wanted to catch them, but catching those big ones, and the heartbreak of that lost big one, was sure a singular experience in my fishing life.

Fuckme, those fish can pull.

Pics to follow when I have some.

Fish on...

Todd