I had just cracked open a drink when the fish came up. I set the brew on the bait tank, buckled in as a tuna slurped the bait, lifted the 80-wide Tiagra out of the holder and went to work. My beer was still ice cold when we gaffed the 192-pound yellowfin.

That short, effective fight depended on the 200-pound Seaguar fluorocarbon leader, 40 pounds of drag and a true winch of a reel. But the gear doesn’t matter if you don’t use it right, and that means using its power to hurt tuna instead of yourself. I’m a big guy and I’ve caught hundreds of tuna over 100 pounds, but size doesn’t matter. I’ve seen little old ladies use the right techniques and catch fish much bigger than I ever have. My friend caught a 300-pound yellowfin on stand-up gear when he was 78.

Use a Harness and Pad to Fight Big Tuna

The key is a good harness and pad, and the ability to use it. One of my favorites is from AFTCO, designed by Greg Stotesbury. Stotesbury’s stand-up experience, like mine, is grounded in the San Diego long-range fleet. No offense, East Coasters, but most of you don’t know how to use a harness. Here’s how it works.

If you learn anything here it should be this: When fighting a fish, you should feel all the force transferred by the harness from the point of your hips down. You want the belt around your butt, not the small of your back.

In preparation, wear the harness before the bite. Wait until the fish is solidly hooked and pulling drag before you put the rod in the belt and clip in. Many fish are lost early when folks fumble with their gear instead of fighting the fish. Once you are fastened to the fish, attitude is everything. Stay calm and relaxed. Don’t let adrenaline and bad form hurt you.

How to Fight Tuna in a Fishing Harness

Proper form means good posture: Put your left hand on the reel to guide the line, with your right hand on the handle. Keep your back straight, and bend your knees enough to distribute the pressure across the tops of your quads and your backside.

Modern composite rods do all the work when kept at right angles to the rail. When the tip comes up, wind it back down. If you can’t turn the handle, switch the reel to low speed. Can’t keep up? Go to high speed. Don’t impart wild pumping motions. Instead, focus on the rod tip. Call out deep color when you see it, and wind the fish up to the gaff.

Safety Tips for Fighting Big Tunas

A couple of safety notes should be added. Every tuna is an individual, and where the hook ends up influences how the fish acts. Yellowfin tuna hooked in the upper jaw by the snout are notoriously squirrelly. You have to be prepared to react to the predictable and unpredictable, and that often means getting out of the harness.

Use S-hooks instead of clips to attach the harness to the reel lugs so you can get out quickly if necessary. And remember to back off the drag ­(gradually, don’t dump it into free-spool) when you need to get the rod out of the gimbal pad for maneuvers such as keeping the line out of the props.

How to Gain Line When Fighting Big Tuna

When you sit back and put on a lot of pressure, a fish will often run out high in the water column. Enjoy the fact that now the fish is on the losing end of the energy equation. This is the only time you can take a breather. When the fish stops, bear down on it. Try to get a turn on the handle, going to low gear if necessary.

Tuna will often respond to the ­pressure by diving in the direction of the boat, which provides you the opportunity to win back a bunch of line with no more effort than turning the handle. Be ready to go into high gear when the fish sounds, and take that easy line.

Once the fish goes into the final stage of the fight — straight up and down — it’s time to really put on the heat. Stay in one spot and keep the rod straight out from the rail. The tuna’s tail beats are reflected in the pumps of the rod tip as the fish circles — the more pressure, the tighter the circle. The tip of the rod will come up as the fish leaves the inside (closest to the boat) of the circle. That’s when you get those precious feet of line with several quick turns of the handle to bring the tip back down and keep the fish moving up. Don’t waste energy by stubbornly trying to turn the handle when you stop gaining line.

Most important, stay relaxed so you reserve the burst of energy and sharpness of mind that is usually called for at the end of the fight. Sometimes, a truly mean fish will say to hell with this and bust a big move. The telltale is an irritated shake of the head. You have to be ready to respond and follow. It’s usually over soon after that — one way or another.

The post Tuna Fishing with Stand Up Gear appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

Around two million years ago, the massive glaciers that once blanketed much of North America retreated for the last time. In present-day central and western New York State, what was left behind can only be described as heaven on earth for freshwater anglers. Covering almost 9,000 square miles and spanning 14 counties, the Finger Lakes Region is made up of eleven glacially carved lakes in total.

A quick scan of Google Earth will reveal that the lakes run north-to-south and are strikingly narrow, perfectly described as fingers. The region locally is referred to as the “banana belt” of upstate New York as the massive amount of water helps keep winters slightly warmer and summers cooler than nearby areas. From East to West, the lakes are positioned as follows: Otisco, Skaneatles, Owasco, Cayuga, Seneca, Keuka, Canandaigua, Honeoye, Canadice, Hemlock and Conesus.

As temps begin to dip and fall bites grow red hot, hook up the boat, and take part in some of the finest multi-species fishing along the East Coast.

Top Species to Target at the Finger Lakes

The Finger Lakes read like an Eagles album with a collection of the greatest hits of freshwater fish found in North America. To add a dose of local insight, I caught up with Kurt Hoefig, a local guide and fixture in the area’s fishing scene.

“I tell my clients all the time, there are not a lot of places in the country that have access to all the natural bodies of water that we have in this region,” said Hoefig. “The DEC does an exceptional job managing our fisheries, there is no off-season when it comes to fishing in the finger lakes.” 

By and large, all eleven lakes support booming populations of both largemouth and smallmouth bass as deep rock and expanses of shallow structure exist in ample quantities. The same can be said with panfish opportunities as yellow perch, crappie and bluegill are found in impressive numbers region-wide.

The fun does not stop there, as select lakes offer golden shots at lake trout, brown trout, landlocked Atlantic salmon and rainbow trout. While there are plenty of productive northern pike fisheries in the Northeast, many lakes lack the forage and open water necessary to grow large specimens. The Finger Lakes kick out true monsters in the 20-pound class year after year. Also, as an added Esox bonus, there is consistent tiger muskie fishing to be had for those willing to put the time in.

The gem of the Empire State, the mighty walleye is also present in large numbers and they grow to impressive sizes in multiple lakes. Other species that should be on your list of species to target include include channel catfish, longnose gar, bowfin and freshwater drum.

The Best Finger Lakes for Fishing

With eleven lakes in total, keying in on desired species and techniques is critical to maximizing time. For the bass crowd, Cayuga Lake is a must-fish as the lake has become a consistent stop on high-level tournament trails. It is home to the New York state record smallmouth bass of 8 pounds, 6 ounces, and it recently produced the state record largemouth bass, a brute that tipped the scales at 12 pounds, 6 ounces. It is not just a warm-water fishery, as Cayuga’s populations of trout and salmon greatly benefited from the introduction of round gobies. Hoefig mentioned that “in 2013, gobies were first found in the lake. It did not take long for lake trout to key in on the new food source and feed on them in relatively shallow water areas. This has created world-class opportunities to cast for big lakers.”

For a truly unique angling experience, Seneca Lake, the self-proclaimed, “lake trout capital of the world,” reaches depths of more than 600 feet. The impressive depths and rare instances of ice coverage also make Seneca Lake home to the sonar testing facility of the U.S. Navy. This is where the sonar units used on nuclear submarines are put through their paces. In addition to a thriving lake trout population, landlocked salmon are ubiquitous and susceptible to downrigger fishing year-round.

My favorite, located half an hour from the city of Syracuse, is Otisco Lake. Essentially, it can be fished as two different lakes, as a causeway splits the lake on the south end. The lower basin is chock full of dirty water and weed beds, perfect for largemouth and panfish. The upper end is clear and deep with endless structure and great populations of smallmouth and walleye. Be warned, tiger muskies roam the entire body of water and can show up out of nowhere. Otisco is also one of the more consistent bets for safe ice for ice fishing on an annual basis.

About the Finger Lakes Region

If I am on a fishing trip, I rarely pay any mind to other available entertainment options in the area. This is not the case with the Finger Lakes region, as the temperate climate creates an amazing lineup of breweries and wineries along with a deep selection of restaurants showcasing the fresh ingredients grown and produced throughout the area. For fans of speed, Watkins Glen International Speedway boasts world-class racing action all summer long at an affordable price. If you need a good leg stretch after a long day on the trolling motor, trails leading to scenic summits are numerous and worth the hike. For more information on the area, check out visitfingerlakes.com.

The post New York’s Finger Lakes: A Multi-Species Mecca appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

After hours perched on the bow of my 20-foot center-console under a scorching sun, my brain had baked like a potpie. My vision blurred and my skin was burnt to a crisp.

As we slowly motored around the ocean, the calm, green water and the clear, blue sky melted into one stifling-hot expanse of emptiness. So when I spotted a long, brown fish swimming just under the surface, I shook my head and blinked my eyes. A second look confirmed the sighting.

“COBIA! COBIA! COBIA!” I yelled to my brother, Roger, who was at the helm.

He whispered: “Where? Where? Where?” as if his voice would spook the fish we had been searching for all day.

I pointed at the brown bomber and hollered again: “COBIA! COBIA! COBIA!”

Spring and Summer Cobia in North Carolina

The mid-Atlantic cobia fishing craze started a couple decades ago off North Carolina’s Outer Banks; local captain Aaron Kelly of Rock Solid Fishing ­was one of the first skippers to make sight-casting his business. On a May morning, I joined Kelly for a day on the water and a lesson on sight-casting. We met at Oregon Inlet Fishing Center; Kelly was carrying a handful of heavy spinning rods and a bucketful of slithering live eels. A few minutes later, his crew of three sharpshooters arrived. We boarded Kelly’s 27-foot center-console and left the marina under bright skies and light winds.

Once out in the open Atlantic, Kelly climbed his three-story tower and strapped into the crow’s nest. Without electronics in the tower, Kelly armed himself with a laser-guided temperature gun in one hand and a big spinning rod in the other. He instructed one of the crew to point the boat south and give it gas.

As we passed Pea Island and Rodanthe Village, Kelly called off water-temperature readings: 65, 66, 67 degrees. When the water hit 68, we slowed and started looking for signs of fish. Kelly says cobia prefer water between 68 and 73.5 degrees. He looks for fish from the mouth of Oregon Inlet to Diamond Shoals and from the surf line out to Whimble Shoals. Wrecks, reefs, tide lines, and even big rays and turtles can all host cobia, but most times the fish cruise out in the open.

We weaved our way south within a few miles of the beach, all eyes scanning the surface, while Kelly continued to test the water temperature. By the time we had worked our way to the iconic candy-striped Hatteras Lighthouse, the ocean was crystal clear and 72 degrees.

“There’s one,” Kelly yelled from his crow’s nest. A few seconds passed before my eyes found the big brown fish, which was 50 yards off and steadily moving toward the boat. The driver took the single diesel out of gear. The angler on the bow made a perfect cast that landed his bucktail right in front of the fish.

But the cobia spooked and dashed my hopes, until Kelly yelled, “There he is!” and pointed to the fish, which was now hiding on the bottom about 20 feet below. “Drop your bucktail and jig it,” Kelly commanded. The guy with the rod opened the bail and let the bucktail fall. We watched the bright-orange lure descend until it was lying next to what looked like a heavy log. The log shot forward and the angler’s line came tight. “That’s how it’s done!” Kelly yelled.

After we landed the fish, Kelly described to me exactly how it is done.

Cobia Sight Fishing Tactics

“Boat speed is critical,” he started, explaining that every boat’s engine makes different sounds and sends out different vibrations at different speeds. Each captain must experiment to find what works with his boat. “Get the pitch of the motor right, and they will come to you.”

If the fish isn’t on a collision course, Kelly turns to ­intercept it at an angle. “The worst thing is to T-bone one,” he said. “Don’t take the engine out of gear or change speed.”

Kelly keeps one angler ready with a live eel and another with a bucktail. When the boat passes within 25 yards of the fish, he instructs his first angler to cast. “I start with the eel, then follow up with a bucktail,” he said. If a cobia doesn’t react to those first casts, Kelly shows the fish a different bait. “You can throw a spot at them,” he said, “or a croaker, bluefish, mullet – I’ve even caught cobia on an oyster toad.”

After a cobia takes the bait. Kelly immediately motors away from the fish. “You’ve got to set the hook and keep tension on the fish,” he explained. “A lot of guys try to fight fish from a dead boat.”

If a cobia spooks, Kelly keeps his eyes open. “A lot of times the fish will pop up again heading in the same direction. Keep an eye out the back of the boat too. A lot of times they’ll sneak up behind you.”

For Kelly, perfect cobia conditions include the ­presence of bait, decent water clarity and light current. “Find a temperature break or an area of dead current around Cape Point [off Cape Hatteras],” he said, “and you’ll find fish.” The perfect cobia day would also feature a 10 to 15 mph southwest wind. “That puts the wind and current in the same direction, which pushes fish to the surface.”

Even on a less-than-perfect day, Kelly can still catch cobia. “We’ve had days when we caught 30 fish in the wind and rain,” he said. When the sky is overcast, he’ll throw out a block of menhaden chum and wait for the fish to come to him.

Kelly chases cobia from early May through the middle of September, but by June, most of the fish have moved to Chesapeake Bay. That’s where I picked up the chase in early June with Capt. Ben Shepard of Above Average Sportfishing, one of the first skippers to bring sight-casting to Virginia.

Traditionally, the state’s anglers anchored to chum for cobia, which attracts everything from car-hood rays to scrappy sharks. Years ago, Shepard learned the sight-fishing technique in Florida and unleashed it at home.

Virginia Cobia on Bucktails

“We’ll meet at 10 o’clock,” Shepard told me over the phone. “What time?” I asked incredulously. “Ten,” he repeated, “no hurry.” I agreed but still arrived early to Bubba’s Marina in Virginia Beach. Shepard and his buddy Jason Legg already had Shepard’s bay boat in the water and ready to go. By the time we left Lynnhaven Inlet, the sun was high and the air still and hot: perfect conditions for spotting cobia.

We didn’t run far. Shepard headed toward Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel, the 17-mile-long span that crosses the mouth of bay, and continued up Thimble Shoal toward Norfolk. About a mile north of the bridge, we stopped in the middle of nowhere and started looking for brown suits. We didn’t look long.

“Cobia,” Shepard announced. I searched the water with my inferior eyes and finally saw the fish cruising 50 yards off the bow.

Anxious, I prepared to throw a live eel with a spinning rod. Shepard stopped me. “That’s just a little fish,” he said. “Use this.” He handed me a lighter rod with a 1-ounce yellow bucktail jig.

The rod’s whippy tip allowed me to land the light lure close enough to get the small cobia’s attention. I retrieved the small jig across the surface, and the cobia went absolutely nuts – turning, swiping, slashing and annihilating the little lure.

After we landed and released the 30-pound fish, Shepard explained that he’d caught cobia of all sizes on the small, yellow jig. “I don’t know what they think it is,” he admitted, “but cobia can’t stand that thing.”

For bigger fish, he uses a 2- to 3-ounce bucktail. “You want a lot of hair and a big rubber tail so the bucktail sinks slower,” he said.

Like Kelly, Shepard first throws the eel. “A perfect cast lands five feet from the fish’s head,” Shepard says. When the cobia bites, he instructs his angler to open the bail and let the cobia take the bait for a couple of seconds. Then close the bail and let the line come tight.

“When you throw the bucktail, jig it fast and hard,” he says. Shepard has noticed that each cobia reacts differently to the jig. “If they’re not super interested, slow it down,” he suggests, “do something different.”

Finding Cobia on Chesapeake Bay

With Shepard’s instructions running around in my head, we continued north up Thimble Channel. Shepard told me the fish first show in late May along Thimble Shoal or Baltimore Channel. “From year to year, they seem to prefer one over the other,” he pointed out.

Water temperature plays a key role in finding cobia, he said. A pocket of water that’s cooler or warmer than the surrounding bay can hold fish. Look for any inconsistencies such as tide lines, floating debris or color changes. Shepard also prefers at least a little current.

By June, the fish spread out in the open bay. “We just cruise around looking for fins,” he said, which is exactly what we did that early June day.

After we tooled up Thimble Shoal Channel, Shepard changed course and headed northeast across Horseshoe Shoal. Almost as soon as we hit the edge of Baltimore Channel, we saw another fish. Shepard pointed toward a raft of small, purple jellyfish that was formed by the edge of a tide line. This cobia was bigger.

Jason Legg took the cast, landing the eel a few feet from the fish’s head. The squirming worm sank slowly. As expected, the big cobia didn’t let the eel get far. Legg came tight on the line and the fight erupted.

The fish ran and bulldogged then jumped twice, ­struggling to get its fat, brown body out of the water. Once the fish had spent its considerable energy, Shepard gaffed the 60-pounder and dispatched it with an aluminum billy club to keep the cobia from wreaking havoc on deck.

World-Class Cobia Fishing

With the fish photographed and stored in the fish box, we climbed back into the bay boat’s tower, and Shepard continued to tell me about cobia fishing in the bay. “Later in the summer, cobia home in on any structure in the lower bay, from bridge pilings, rocks, buoys, to tide lines and temperature breaks,” he said.

Toward the end of September, cobia leave the bay, and anglers find some amazing action along Virginia Beach’s oceanfront on buoys and tide lines. Shepard said he sees schools of 10 to 50 fish; once he saw a pod with at least 300 cobia. Shepard and Kelly have recorded outstanding catches from the Outer Banks to Virginia. Each averages 200 to 250 cobia in a season.

Kelly’s best-ever day happened in early spring. “We got to the Hook (inside Cape Point) at 7 a.m., and we were in the meat,” he told me, excitement from the day’s adventure still vibrating in his voice. “I looked to my left and saw 20, then to the right and saw another 15. There were singles, doubles, triples; they were all balled up. It was game on. We started whacking them.”

So many fish and only two anglers. Faced with the chance to have an epic day, Kelly knew he needed help. He called one of his most obsessed clients, and the guy drove down to the beach and swam out to Kelly’s boat. The three anglers worked like machines casting, hooking, fighting, unhooking and casting again until they had caught and released 72 cobia. “I’d never seen anything close to that ever,” he reflected.
 
With cobia fishing improving each year, anglers visiting the Outer Banks and Chesapeake Bay have a shot of seeing something truly special. “Drive around looking for cobia,” Shepard said, “and you won’t believe your eyes.”

Cobia Tackle Requirements

Sight-casting for cobia might be the simplest fishing experience ever conceived. “Just drive around all day and look for fish,” Capt. Shepard said. Rigging for these fish is easy too.

Two outfits cover all your cobia needs: a heavy-action spinning rod with a stiff tip for casting a bucktail, and a lighter stick with a slower bend to toss an eel. Both rods should measure at least 7 feet; reels should hold enough 50-pound braid and generate enough drag to tire a 100-pound cobia.

To rig the bucktail rod, use a Bimini/Albright connection to double the main line, and attach 3 feet of 60-pound fluorocarbon and a brightly colored 2- to 3-ounce bucktail. To the jig hook, add a rubber twister tail in pink, orange, chartreuse or white; the tail prevents the jig from falling too fast. For the lighter rod, use the same length of 40-pound fluoro and an 8/0 Gamakatsu Octopus Circle hook.

When Shepard encounters small cobia, he chooses a medium-action spinner that’s limber enough to throw a 1/8-ounce bucktail.

Cloudy skies don’t keep cobia enthusiasts off the water: When the sun hides, Shepard and Kelly break out a block of menhaden chum and drift their live eels through known cobia hangouts.

The post Fishing the Mid-Atlantic Cobia Run appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

Still sipping Starbucks, we ease out of the New York Skyport Marina, the primary seaplane base for Manhattan, tucked in next to FDR Drive at East 23rd Street. It’s a gorgeous summer morning, just one day before the July Fourth holiday — the sort of morning when one wouldn’t mind a long run, but that’s just not necessary. In fact, in little more than five minutes, Capt. Tony DiLernia is anchoring up his boat in the East River.

Although we’re there to fish, we out-of-towners can’t stop gaping at the magnificent skyline view of the Big Apple against the clear blue sky. Meanwhile, DiLernia has idled down in the gentle current in one of his favorite go-to spots, just off the United Nations building. As he ties off the anchor and the boat swings tight, he points to the top of one of the skyscrapers. “That’s where the big fight scene in Spider‑Man was filmed,” he says.

But immediately, he turns his attention to the task at hand, chunking up fresh bunker (menhaden) and threading them onto circle hooks. The fact that DiLernia’s been doing this for not years but decades is evident: Within an hour or so, we have missed a strike and had two good fish on, one coming off midway through the fight and the other right at the boat. Fortunately, our fourth time was the charm, giving us the chance to admire in the net a striped bass just south of 30 pounds.

Pogy Pointers

DiLernia’s Rocket Charters offers anglers a unique experience both by virtue of its prime location (the dock is accessible to anglers via a short taxi ride from most of Manhattan; then, the fishing grounds are but a very short ride away) and by its skipper. No one knows the busy, current-swept waters around New York — after so many years of navigating and fishing them by day and night — better than DiLernia.

DiLernia is not only a consummate skipper, but a savvy master of striped bass fishing as well. On that basis, I thought I’d see if I could pick up a few pointers on how DiLernia connects with some very hefty bass (he’s caught them better than 50 pounds).

Bait accounts for roughly 80 percent of the stripers taken on Rocket Charters. When we fished with DiLernia in early July, the options were menhaden, menhaden or menhaden. The oily baitfish remains his offering of choice until eel fishing starts in the fall. And it was very fresh. That, says DiLernia, is key.

“Frozen bunker’s okay for blues, but not so great for bass,” he says. You can, however, use your fresh bait a second or even third day by putting them in a brine with kosher salt.

Breakaway Baits

The skipper prefers chunks to whole fish and, at that, always likes the head best. His hook of choice: an Eagle Claw 10/0 circle sea hook. What DiLernia especially appreciates about circles is that they allow him to fish with reels in gear. Often currents get strong enough that the coefficient of friction of a reel in free spool with clicker on isn’t enough to keep lines from running out. With circle hooks, that’s not a problem, nor is hooking fish, as a rule. DiLernia runs the circle hook through the top of the head where it was sliced from the body.

“Lots of guys will put the hook through the lips,” DiLernia says. But when a fish grabs the bait, he explains, it’s likely to stay on the hook. DiLernia hooks it to come off and get out of the way. “It ought to tear out easily so the hook comes out of the bait’s head when the striper is swimming away with it. Then the hook should slide into the fish’s jaw hinge,” he explains. “And that’s just what usually happens.”

When no head is available, he’ll go to a body chunk — but his pièce de résistance is adding the pogy’s heart onto the hook. “I’m convinced the blood in the heart attracts stripers,” he says simply.

Timing the Tides

According to DiLernia, spring through midsummer is prime time for bunker fishing. Tides are always a prime factor for him, and in this case, he wants to be anchored up and fishing about a half-hour after the high slack tide: The next couple of hours, with boat and baits sitting still in the moderate current, will produce the hottest bite.

Then, well into the ebb, the current will be running too fast to hold bottom without ungodly amounts of weight. “That’s when we drift and bounce lead-heads on the bottom until late in the ebb when the current slows. Then we’ll go back to fishing bait at anchor.”

Once the tide nears slack, and the boat starts swinging on the anchor “so the baits slide all over the bottom,” it’s time to troll deep divers. DiLernia’s choice of lures: big Mann’s Stretch or Stretch Plus and Yo-Zuri Hydro Magnum Deep Divers. Usually, he’ll do this just until shortly after the tide turns: Then the cycle begins again with a couple of hours fishing bait.

DiLernia notes that tides vary tremendously around New York. For example, depending on the tidal pattern, he might fish the East River for the first hour and a half of the ebb, and then run quickly down to the Hudson River to fish off the Statue of Liberty, catching the early ebb there. By the time the current’s starting to get too strong there, the East River is just ­beginning to slow down again.

DiLernia proudly holds up the big, complex-looking watch on his wrist. “It’s a Reactor Graviton,” and he says it’s been a huge factor in maximizing his efficiency fishing the area per tidal flow. It’s programmed to tell him just what the tide is doing at any day, any moment, in the East River, the Hudson, Sandy Hook and West Sound.

Fall for Eels

Though early July is a great time to fish the Big Apple for bass, DiLernia’s season continues through early November (after which it’s too cold and “time to go hunting,” he says). As summer wanes, DiLernia drifts mostly eels. “They’re migrating then, so it’s a good time to match the hatch.” This is a drifting show and somewhat less tide-critical. And not anchoring allows DiLernia to fish productive areas that include shipping channels.

DiLernia offers eel fishermen a tip regarding the inevitable struggle to get a hook through a writhing eel: “Snap its tail on the rail. For whatever reason, this disables it momentarily but doesn’t kill it.” Some anglers give that love tap to the eel’s head; that will disable it, but sometimes for good.

“This area around New York is highly productive because it’s at the nexus of some stripers’ ­migration routes, and it’s ecologically productive in its own right,” says John Waldman, professor of biology at Queens College (and author of Heartbeats in the Muck: The History, Sea Life and Environment of New York Harbor). “Also, adult spawners of the Hudson stock, which winter in the open ocean, come into the Hudson to spawn, and so are available in New York Harbor.” Bass from Chesapeake and Delaware Bay stocks migrate north in spring and also enter the mix, Waldman says.

The post NYC Striper Hunt appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

“Patient anglers are prevailing,” reported Capt. Kane Bounds. Bounds fishes out of Ocean City, Maryland, for trophy tautog throughout the winter. Recently, angler Jen Zuppe caught a 23.4-pound tog aboard his boat, the Fish Bound IV. Zuppe’s catch has a great shot to be the next IGFA Women’s World Record in the 30- or 50-pound line class. 

Bounds says Zuppe played the game perfectly and was rewarded with a trophy tog. “She had just moved closer to the bow,” Bounds remembered. “While the rest of the crew fished from the stern, Zuppe took her bait rig away from the crowd.” 

The record-breaking tautog gave up a good fight, but Zuppe is an accomplished angler who knows how to beat a big fish. “Last year, she caught a 13-pounder with me,” Bounds said.

Have Patience When Tautog Fishing

Bounds says if fishing is slow, he moves the boat several times during a typical trip. Anglers who fish hard and pay attention will be rewarded with trophy blackfish. “Find a little structure, keep the bait on the bottom, don’t move it, and wait,” Bounds recommends.

Fish Bound IV has been fishing 10 to 30 miles offshore, between 60 and 120 feet of water. “If the wind has been blowing — and the wind always seems to blow in the winter — go farther offshore in search of clear water when the wind is more manageable,” Bounds says.

Really windy days keep the boat closer to shore or at the dock.

Even when a tog bites, Bounds warns against acting too quickly. “Quit trying to set the hook prematurely; let the fish eat,” he says. Cold water blackfish move slowly and suspiciously. “I was just fussing at people today about setting the hook too soon,” Bounds laughs.

Tog fishing should remain steady off Mid-Atlantic states, as long as the water temperature is above 42 degrees.

Tautog Fishing Tackle

For tautog tackle, Bounds recommends a medium-heavy rod with a soft tip and considerable backbone. “Most of the anglers are using a Jigging World Night Ranger rod,” Bounds says. 

The rod is matched to a conventional reel spooled with 50-pound braided line. “A slower reel, 3:1 to 5:1 retrieve ratio, brings the tog to the surface slowly, improving chances of survival after being released,” Bounds explains. 

To the end of the braided line, Bounds adds six feet of 50 pound monofilament for abrasion resistance and stretch. He ties a three-way rig with a 5/0 octopus hook and 6- to 12-ounce bank sinker. “Switch sinkers to match the current,” Bounds suggests. Adding weight as the current increases ensures the bait stays in the structure directly under the boat.

When the current drops, anglers switch to lighter spinning gear and a 2-ounce jig with a short-shank hook. The jig makes it possible to place the bait directly on the bottom, even in heavy structure. 

Top Baits for Blackfish

The top bait for Mid-Atlantic anglers is green crabs. “Sometimes the fish want a big crab, sometimes a small one,” Bounds adds. He says blackfish are picky and will prefer a whole crab or half, legs or no legs. “I keep experimenting until I find what works that day,” he says.  

The post Best Bets for Winter Blackfish appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

Little 55-acre, 40-feet deep Woods Canyon Lake is a bit over 100 miles northeast of Phoenix, and that’s where angler Bryan Morgan was fishing Dec. 10 with friends and family when he caught a whopper of a 5-pound, 11.8-ounce tiger trout to set a new Arizona record for the hybrid species.

Morgan’s oversize brown-brook trout hybrid beat the previous state record by about two pounds. He was trolling a small Yakima roostertail-style inline spinner on 6-pound-test line in 15 feet of water with ice peppering the lakeshore.

“Everybody was chilly, it was time to go, and I stated, ‘Hey, guys let’s take the boat out for another spin,'” Morgan told Wild Grass Games. “My youngsters wished to remain by the fireplace on shore, so I simply trolled alongside the shoreline.”

Morgan kept his trolled lure in sun-warmed waters while working the shallows. Then the fish hit, and he believed he initially fouled his spinner.

“I believed I’d hooked right into a sunken log,” he said.

Morgan battled the trout on light tackle for 20 minutes, eventually working it boat-side and netting it.

“Since I was on my own, and I didn’t have help, I knew I wanted to [tire] the fish before netting it,” he stated. “A few instances with the light rod I thought it was going to break. The treble hook was bending, but it never broke.”

Read Next: Head to the Arizona Desert for Smallmouth Bass

Morgan boated the fish and brought the tiger trout home. He weighed and measured it (24.6 inches), and then he learned by checking state records that his fish was much larger than the Arizona record caught in May 2020 at 3.16 pounds and 18.75 inches in length.

“I was pretty shocked, realizing it was more than two pounds bigger and longer than the current record,” Morgan said.

Andy Clark, with Arizona’s Game and Fish Department, certified Morgan’s tiger trout as the new state record for the species two days later. Clark said he’s fished Woods Canyon Lake for over three decades and catching a tiger trout larger than Morgan’s new record will be hard to beat.

The post New Record Tiger Trout Caught in Arizona appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

What does a lingcod eat? Anything it wants. These deep-water reef predators rule the bad neighborhoods where they live, feeding on octopus, sand dabs, rockfish and anything else they can fit in their cavernous, toothy maws. They readily attack prey seemingly too large to swallow, a reason they are often caught by anglers as “hitchhikers” literally lock-jawed onto hooked rockfish as they’re reeled toward the surface.

Savvy Southern California anglers know this and appeal to the lingcod’s ravenous appetite and aggressive nature by tossing super-size swimbaits. The technique has developed somewhat of a cult following: Small groups of swimbait aficionados gather in the bow of partyboats to “chuck the rubber,” while the majority of the passengers deploy dropper-loop rigs with 1-pound weights meant to carry live or cut baits into depths that can reach 300 feet or more.

The fall season—leading right up to the end-of-year Southern California groundfish closure in January and February—is probably the best time of the year to target big lingcod in this way. As temperatures cool, lings move into shallower waters and feed aggressively. Smart anglers venture out on skiffs and party boats to meet them, swim bait outfits in hand.

Make no mistake, plenty of anglers catch lingcod on live mackerel, live sardines or even whole or stripped squid fished on “shrimp fly” rigs. Large lings are sometimes taken this way in between reeling up vermillion, chucklehead or any of a wide variety of rockfish species.

But if you want to catch lingcod almost exclusively—and the largest ones on the boat—switch to big swimbaits. I say “almost exclusively,” because truly large rockfish of 5 pounds and up sometimes jump on these soft-plastic lures, as well, adding variety and quality to the equation.

Feed ‘Em a Mouthful

What do I mean by a big swim bait? Lure companies like Kustom Kraft, Candy Bar and Savage Gear have developed specialized lures for this technique, with beefy, sturdy plastic bodies boasting large paddle tails for maximum action and vibration. Up to 10 inches long, these tails pair with heavy, wedge-shaped leadheads sporting 7/0 to 10/0 hooks. Depending on the depth of the structure being fished, leadheads can range from 4 to 16 ounces. Some lures, like those from Savage Gear, feature molded leadheads designed for use with specific integrated tails.

Chucking the Rubber

Working a lure that must be retrieved can be a challenge when fishing craggy, rocky structure in waters up to 300 feet deep. Swim the lure as close to the bottom as possible for as long as possible. Partyboat anglers should stay clear of other anglers fishing bait rigs straight up and down.

The technique involves casting your lure from the bow or downwind corner of the stern. Toss it as far as possible and let it sink quickly to the bottom, then work the swimbait with a steady, medium-speed retrieve for about 15 to 20 turns of the reel handle. If you don’t get bit, freespool back to the bottom and repeat. As the boat drifts over and eventually away from your line, you will have to recast and begin the process again.

If the boat drifts too quickly, you might have to use a more vertical presentation. In those situations, I just wind quickly for about seven to 10 cranks, drop back and repeat. It takes some dedication to do this, but the reward is worth the effort.

At times, however, conditions just won’t allow for working a swimbait. When this happens, I switch to my second-favorite lingcod lure, which is a heavy metal jig. Fish these lures vertically and bounce them just off the bottom.

To create a large target worthy of attracting the attention of big lingcod, I replace the usual treble hooks with a large single siwash hook, onto which I thread a 6-inch plastic or Berkeley Gulp! grub.

Just Keep Grinding

New anglers trying to master the swimbait method must resist the natural impulse to set the hook. Lingcod often grab the lure by the tail and hold on, and if you swing the rod, you pull the lure out of its mouth (often ripping the tail off in the process). Instead, just keep turning the reel handle at the same speed until the rod loads up and the fish is solidly hooked.

If the fish lets go or comes off after a few head shakes, immediately drop the lure down a few seconds and start reeling. Lingcod hate to let any meal—even a fake one—get away. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sealed the deal after two or three re-bites.

Lings are also very competitive, and it’s not uncommon to have one or more free-swimming lingcod accompany a hooked fish on its way to the surface, ready to pounce on the lure should it become dislodged.

Trap Hook

To increase the number of solid hookups, I often rig my swimbaits with a simple trap-hook system. I loop an Owner 5/0 Assist Hook over the tip of the main hook and cinch it tight at the hook’s bend. Depending on the length of the swimbait, this provides a large trailing hook near the tail of the lure. I’ve caught plenty of big lingcod on the trap hook alone.

Maintain a slow and steady retrieve when fighting a big ling. They usually make a strong run toward structure once hooked, and after that, it’s usually heavy weight with just enough head shaking to rattle your nerves. If you keep steady pressure, lings usually stay fairly calm until they get near the boat.

Read Next: SoCal Lingcod Primer

Swimbait tails come in a wide variety of colors, and I’ve seen them all work. Shades of red and brown certainly match the natural coloration of juvenile rockfish.

Capt. Mike Nickerson of the popular Channel Islands-based sport boat Pacific Dawn likes a custom-poured tail he calls Blue Bass, the common name for the ubiquitous blue rockfish that populate these reefs. At the same time, I’ve caught plenty on gaudy colors like glow in the dark, chartreuse, pink-and-white striped and pearl white. I don’t think color is all that important as long as you work the lure effectively in the strike zone and maximize bites when they happen.

Tackling the Technique

It takes a specific style of rod and reel to effectively fish these heavy lures. Relatively stiff, fast-action graphite-composite jig rods of 8 to 8 1/2 feet work best for lobbing lures that might weigh up to a pound. Conventional reels can be either star or lever drag, as long as they hold 300 to 400 yards of 65-pound braided line.

Using straight braid with only a few feet of 40-pound test monofilament or fluorocarbon leader allows lures to sink quickly and keep you in direct touch with the lure and your fish. The short length of leader (joined with a back-to-back uni-knot) provides some added shock absorption and makes it easier to break off if you snag the bottom.

The post Using Swim Baits to Catch Big California Lingcod appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

Ask any Southern California inshore angler where to catch calico bass, and the vast majority would point you toward one of the many kelp beds that line the coast and wrap the offshore islands, habitat that has earned this species its official name—kelp bass. Yet, the sheer expanse of the average kelp bed stacks the odds against success, especially when targeting bigger bass weighing 5 pounds or more.

Unlike isolated spots like a reef or a rocky point, kelp beds don’t offer a consistent “right” place to cast your lure in hopes of getting a bite. When calicos feed in the kelp, they’re likely only doing so in 10 to 15 percent of the bed, meaning that if you fish the other 85 to 90 percent, you’re probably not going to catch a whole lot.

However, regardless of location or depth of water, feeding calico bass relate to all kelp beds in the same manner. Calicos use their checkerboard coloration pattern to blend in with the amber kelp fronds as they wait to ambush baitfish. Since baitfish tend to swim in open water on the edge of the kelp, a feeding bass tends to set up just inside the bed, adjacent to open water.

To remain stationary while attempting to ambush an unwitting baitfish, a calico always points its nose into the current. This means that feeding bass post up on the outside up-current edge of the bed. That’s where you’re most likely to find a big, hungry calico bass on any given bed.

Bed Types

Different kelp bed types also affect bass positioning. In heavy kelp beds, even those with the surface frond pulled completely below the surface by current, bites usually come within the first 20 yards of the bed’s leading edge. If the outside edge of the bed is straight and featureless, you might find a few random bites along its length. If the outside edge is irregular, any patch of kelp that pokes out from the main bed can act as a secondary leading edge and can hold multiple fish.

Kelp beds with sparse fronds and open water in between tend to spread the bass bites out farther along the length of the bed, and you might experience scattered bites along the entire area. These beds often extend from shallow to deep water, and feeding bass will be isolated to specific depth ranges that hold bait. Approach these beds from deep to shallow along the leading edge when looking for biting bass.

Stay on Fish

A common mistake that even experienced anglers make involves losing track of biting bass and continuing to fish in dead water. It’s easy enough to do. You pull up to the leading edge of a bed and immediately start getting bites, but once you drift past the bite zone, the action slows way down, even though the kelp looks really fishy. While this might not seem like a big deal, it’s a real time vampire, and can waste a good percentage of your fishing day. Once you encounter dead water, keep moving and looking for new areas and likely ambush points to fish.

Weedless Wonders

Kelp fronds easily snag hooks. To minimize fouled lures, wasted time and lost tackle, many calico anglers employ lures such as weedless swimbaits. Popular lures include the 7-inch MC Weedless Swimbait rigged on a 3/4-ounce 8/0 Owner Weighted Beast hook or a 5-inch MC Viejos Series Swimbait rigged on a 3/4-ounce WAR Baits weedless leadhead.

Whenever approaching a kelp bed, position your boat so that it points in the same direction as the current, with the bow approaching the leading edge of the bed. I normally slide up and stop a long cast from the edge, allowing the angler in the bow to fan cast along the leading stringers. If feeding bass are in the bed, they’re likely to race out from among the stalks and bite the bait.

If those first few casts show promise, I aim the boat toward the outside edge of the bed and bump the trolling motor along, allowing for casts to the entire leading edge. Once I reach the outside, I’ll point my bow down-current again to drift and make casts along the kelp. While doing so, I look ahead for any outcroppings in the edge of the kelp and steer the boat’s drift to put the bow angler in position to cast. By moving the boat in this manner, you can cover all of the high-percentage edges of the bed without wasting time having to drift through dead water

Presentation Pointers

To present a weedless swimbait, simply cast the lure past whatever stringer you want to target and use a fast retrieve to burn the bait past the zone. Keep your casts fairly short if they’re perpendicular to the current, as you’re going to have to fight your bass past all of those kelp stringers, and that can be tough if you hook a big one.

Read Next: Tighter California Limits Aim to Protect Populations of Saltwater Bass

You can use just about any heavy bass rod and saltwater low-profile baitcasting reel to cast a weedless swimbait, but I prefer using a light-action, 7-foot graphite-composite rod. These rods feature a graphite butt section with a soft fiberglass tip and are normally considered live-bait rods. The soft tips on these rods act as shock absorbers and increase the hookup ratio due to the way bass strike this bait. This rod should be paired with a mid-size low-profile baitcasting reel like the Penn Fathom 300 filled with 65-pound braid and a 2- to 3-foot, 60-pound fluorocarbon leader.

Calicos normally attack a weedless swimbait from behind and inhale it tail first. If you set the hook the moment the fish hits, the bait’s weedlessness often causes it to slide right out of the fish’s mouth without hooking up. So, when you see or feel a bass take the lure, pause for a moment and allow the fish to turn with the bait before setting the hook.

Be it a special hookset or finding the edge that’s holding, these little things make a big difference when fishing calicos in the kelp.

The post California’s Kelp Bed Calico Bass appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

The traditional staggered start of California’s 2021 rockfish season begins on March 1 for ocean waters off the southern part of the state, followed by April 1 for central California, and May 1 for the northern region. This season, however, ranks as more poignant than most, as it heralds the re-opening of areas that have been closed to bottom fishing for nearly 20 years.

On the Rebound

In Southern California, for example, anglers can now legally fish in bottom depths as great as 600 feet in many areas along the coast. The previous limit, set two years ago, was 450 feet, and before that, an even shallower limit of 360 feet existed in this region. It was not always this way.

Fishery regulators first established depth limits for rockfish, lingcod, ocean whitefish, California sheephead and other bottom species in 2002. The federal Pacific Fishery Management Council and the California Fish and Game Commission faced declining rockfish populations, and so instituted the 360-foot depth limit to reduce fishing pressure and allow stocks to recover. Almost two decades later, studies indicate that this management tool worked. Scientists say that California’s rockfish populations have rebounded; this has led the agencies to re-open a number of areas for 2021. (For a full list of the regulations, seasons, depth limits, protected species and closures, visit the California Department of Fish and Wildlife website.)

Jig Time

No matter the depth, anglers always look forward to catching rockfish. These deep-dwelling, great-eating species are considered the bread-and-butter of California’s sport fishery. They inhabit waters around rocky structure and readily eat a live or fresh-dead bait, such as a sardine or strip of squid, that’s fished near the bottom. But many veteran anglers prefer to target larger individual fish to fill their daily rockfish bag limit, rather than settling for smaller specimens. The key to catching bigger 4- to 9-pound rockfish and lingcod up to 35 pounds lies in fishing with jigs as opposed to bait, says veteran Southern California saltwater angler Joey Engel.

Natural bait tends to attract smaller fish. “Rockfish that eat the jigs tend to be the big ones,” he explains, noting that he has caught vermilion (aka red) rockfish up to 9 pounds while fishing with metal jigs such as the Shimano Butterfly Flat Fall with double assist hooks.

Engel prefers to target rockfish over rocky structure in 300- to 350-foot depths, using a 300-gram (about 10.5-ounce) Flat Fall. He casts ahead of the boat’s drift so that the line is nearly vertical by the time the jig reaches the bottom. Yet, Engel often hooks up on the drop. “Red rockfish often school 50 to 60 feet above the bottom, and they will jump on the jig as it flutters downward,” he says.

Big Target

Ron Ballanti, an avid Southern California rockfish angler, also fishes with metal jigs such as Cribb’s Jigs in colors such as Glow Pink Tiger or Orange Glow Black Tiger. He also fishes with Promar Ahi Assault jigs in colors such as Baby Red or Blue Bass. He likes to fish the lightest jig possible (determined by drift speed), but generally uses an 8-ounce model for bottom depths of up to 250 feet, and the 10- and 12-ounce versions for anything deeper. Ballanti uses a single 9/0 Siwash hook and threads on a soft-plastic tail like a 6-inch Berkley Gulp! saltwater grub in a color such as White Glow.

“The single hook is less likely to snag on the bottom, and it allows me to thread on curly tail grubs, which creates about a 12-inch profile to attract bigger fish,” Ballanti explains. “I’m not interested in catching any fish less than 4 pounds.” A single hook also holds better on big fish like lings that fight to the surface.

Like Engel, he casts down-drift and sometimes gets bit on the sink. If the jig does reach the bottom, he works it with sharp upward sweeps of the rod, then follows the lure as it sinks to sense any strikes. “I let the lure fall until it ticks the bottom, then jig it upward again,” Ballanti says. “It is a lot of work, and you have to pay close attention and constantly adjust the amount of line to keep the lure in the strike zone and keep it from snagging the bottom, but it pays off.” His average rockfish weighs 5 pounds and up, and he has landed a number of canary, copper and red rockfish in the 9-pound range. He also consistently catches more lingcod when fishing with other anglers that are using bait.

Paddletail Baits

Large soft-plastic paddletail baits such as the Optimum Baits 9-inch Giant Shad, paired with leadheads weighing 8 to 10 ounces, have recently emerged as some of the most effective jigs for big rockfish and lingcod. Ballanti frequently uses paddletails (aka swimbaits), particularly when fishing expansive rocky bottom areas where lingcod lurk.

The best technique involves fishing this jig as vertically as possible—dropping it to the bottom, then winding it upward at a moderate speed with 10 to 12 turns of the reel handle, then dropping it back down again. “The difficulty and labor factors are even greater with these jigs, if you want to stay in the strike zone,” Ballanti says. “A fast drift really shortens your fishing time, as you need to reel in and re-drop if the line scopes out more than 45 degrees.”

However, lingcod in particular can’t seem to resist chasing the big swim baits off the bottom. “They typically inhale the jig and swim upward with it,” Ballanti explains. “If you feel weight on the line, just reel down tight to set the hook. Don’t swing, as that usually just pulls the lure out of the ling’s mouth. If you get short-bit, drop down about 10 feet and start retrieving again.”

Aggressive lingcod often come back, he says. To help eliminate short bites, Ballanti rigs the larger swimbaits with a stinger in the form of an Owner 5/0 assist hook, looped around the bend of the main hook.

Fantastic Plastic

Another trend centers on the use of large tube baits and soft-plastic octopus imitations for rockfish, lingcod and other bottom species. These include the Hook Up Baits XXL 10-ounce jig, the Mag-12 Swimbait 8-ounce jig, and Optimum’s 9-inch Magnum Octopus with an 8- to 10-ounce leadhead. “I like to jig the Mag-12 Pearl White Glow lure right along the bottom to imitate an octopus,” Engel says. “Big lings and whitefish can’t seem to resist them.”

Read Next: New Fishing Opportunities for Rockfish

Engel also fishes two of the 4-ounce Mag-12 lures at once. He ties one on a 2-foot dropper loop and another 3 feet below it at the end of the main line. “Presenting rockfish with a pair of tube baits seems to drive them crazy,” he says. “They immediately go on the attack, and many times you’ll hook two big fish at the same time. That’s a handful.”

Lighter Gear

While anglers in the past had to use relatively heavy gear for deep-dwelling rockfish, advances in super-thin braided line, low-profile saltwater-grade level-wind reels and graphite fishing rods have enabled the use of lighter outfits that are easier to fish and less fatiguing on anglers. For example, Okuma’s Komodo 400 series low-profile reels can hold more than 300 yards of 40-pound braid, which is sufficient for fishing jigs in depths of up to 400 feet.

How anglers take advantage of the new depth limits remains to be seen. Many old-timers contend that the biggest bottomfish always live at the greatest depths. So, it is certain that a fair number of California anglers will find a way to fish out to the new legal limits in pursuit of larger rockfish, lingcod, ocean whitefish and sheephead.

The post How to Catch Bigger Rockfish appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

The total catch of yellowfin tuna in the western Atlantic is a daunting figure, with more than 101,305 tons reported in 2014. Fifty countries participating in a member treaty group called the International Commission for the Conservation of Atlantic Tunas (ICCAT) contribute to the total catch each year. Spain and France are some of the largest contributors, whereas the U.S. landed just 2.63 percent of the Atlantic-wide estimated total catch in 2014.

So, for a single state agency to try to affect international management might seem like folly. However, regionally in the northern Gulf of Mexico, with respect to yellowfin tuna catch, Louisiana is huge. More yellowfin tuna are landed both recreationally and commercially from ports in Louisiana than from any other Gulf Coast state. When fisheries managers in Louisiana looked at how the Atlantic-wide yellowfin tuna fishery was managed and what data was being collected from the local fishery, they realized they could make a difference.

Starting at the Single-Stock Hypothesis

ICCAT — and thereby NOAA’s National Marine Fisheries Service, since the U.S. is a contracting party — manages yellowfin tuna in the Atlantic Ocean as a single stock. Furthermore, the management plan rests on the premise that production of yellowfin tuna is centered in waters off the Gulf of Guinea, a known tuna nursery in the eastern Atlantic adjacent to west-central Africa. The region supports a large purse-seine fishery that targets small tunas associated with fish-attracting devices (FADs).

The retention of undersize tuna by these purse seiners has long been a matter of contention among ICCAT nations, and the U.S. has lobbied for decades to force compliance with ICCAT minimum-size limits of 27 inches, fork length. Trans-Atlantic movements of yellowfin tuna have been documented by previous conventional-tag-recapture studies. Similarly, one-year-old bluefin tuna were documented crossing the Pacific Ocean in just a matter of months.

Still, is the health and future of the fishery in the Gulf of Mexico really dependent on what comes across the Atlantic? The answer might be in the tuna-rich Gulf waters off Louisiana.

The Unique Louisiana Fishery

What is unique about Louisiana’s yellowfin fishery? I’d say almost everything, from environment to tuna behavior.

North America’s largest river flows out against Gulf Stream eddies (the Loop Current), and these currents meet above deep nearshore canyons along a shelf margin that is littered with FADs (oil rigs). Yellowfin tuna recreational catches out of Louisiana on a day trip can, at times, resemble what you’d see on a Pacific long-range tuna trip off Mexico.

But one thing that really stands out is the lengthy season: You can catch yellowfin tuna off southeast Louisiana all year. Whether anglers are live-bait fishing near rigs, chumming by shrimp boats or natural bottom features, or throwing topwater lures near surface-feeding whale sharks, there’s always action available.

Clues about the yellowfin tuna’s life history are present as well: adults in spawning ­condition, day-old larvae caught during surveys, juvenile tunas just months old, and ­multiyear tag returns from adults recaptured in almost the exact same area they were released. The data suggests that some yellowfin tuna might spend a whole lifetime in the Gulf of Mexico. Perhaps not the picture you’d expect for a highly migratory species?

In response to the disparity between the importance of Gulf of Mexico yellowfin tuna to Louisiana-based user groups and the lack of biological information, the Louisiana Department of Wildlife and Fisheries (LDWF) began a comprehensive yellowfin-research program.

The success of the program ultimately hinged on access. LDWF dock samplers were able to provide biological samples from more than 1,600 yellowfin in less than three years. In excess of 200 yellowfin tuna were fitted with electronic tags. And about 400 young-of-the-year tuna were collected throughout the Atlantic.

Electronic Tagging

Conventional dart or spaghetti tags have been used for decades and are great tools for studying the movement patterns of fish. Fish have to be both recaptured and then reported for these projects to work. But pelagic fish such as tuna typically have very low recapture rates. In fact, according to the NMFS Cooperative Tagging Center, the all-time recapture rate for yellowfin tagged in the northern Gulf of Mexico is a tick above 2 percent.

Pop-off ARGOS satellite tags (PSATs) provide a way to track fish without relying on their recapture. But attaching PSATs to yellowfin tuna has been problematic for many researchers, possibly because of both their behavior and ­somewhat delicate bodies. Tuna must keep moving.

As anyone who has fished for or caught a yellowfin tuna can tell you, they’re extremely active in the water column, cumulatively traveling literally tens of thousands of vertical feet a day (as documented with depth records from PSATs). Average retention of satellite tags on yellowfin tuna in previous studies has been about a month.

Since the goal of the LDWF project was to look at long-term movements, it made sense to do two things differently from the start. The first was to figure out a better way to attach PSATs to yellowfin tuna. The second was to take a chance on a different electronic-tag type that had never been used on yellowfin tuna in the Atlantic.

Improving tag attachment involved abandoning the use of darts to hold the buoyant satellite tags in the fast-swimming tunas. Instead, a hollow needle was used to target one of the heaviest areas of bone mass in a tuna’s body, which is the base of the second dorsal, known as the allison fin. Researchers passed heavy monofilament through the bony base of the second dorsal fin twice in a figure-eight ­configuration and crimped directly to the PSAT.

Like PSATs, internal archival (IA) tags are electronic tags that measure light level, depth and temperature. Both electronic-tag types can be employed for high-resolution studies of habitat use, as well as to re-create daily positions based on light-level measurements. Light-based geo-location works because sunrise and sunset times vary east to west, and day length varies north to south.

But unlike PSATs, IA tags use all their battery power to log data. Since they don’t use any of it for the pop-off mechanism or to upload the data through an antenna to a satellite system, they have a much longer lifetime. Some IA tags can log data for more than 10 years. Also, the internal tags have to be surgically implanted. Yellowfin tuna that are to be tagged are caught quickly so they’re in good condition, netted and placed upside down in a padded cradle. A small incision is made in the belly, and the internal tag is inserted into the body cavity. Two quick sutures hold the incision closed.

The light stalk of the tag protruding from the tuna’s abdomen and a green-and-white conventional tag near the dorsal fin are the only indications that the tuna is swimming around the Gulf with a computer in its belly. But the catch, literally, is that these fish have to be re-caught and reported for the data to be recovered from the tag. And while a 2 percent recapture rate might not justify a large investment in an internal-tagging project, LDWF biologists knew that the local recapture rate was closer to 10 percent based on conventional tags deployed on yellowfin as part of the Louisiana Cooperative Fish Tagging Program. So based on the hope of a slightly higher recapture rate in the region and that a $200 gift-card reward would incentivize participation, LDWF began tagging yellowfin in 2013 with internal and pop-off ­satellite tags in the north-central Gulf.

To date, 162 of these internal tags have been surgically implanted and 26 satellite tags attached to yellowfin tuna ranging in size from 27 inches to more than 160 pounds off southeast Louisiana by LDWF. Recapture rates have exceeded expectations, with 30 internally tagged fish recaptured to date. Some tuna were at large for up to 1,017 days, with the average returned IA tag having been in a fish for 238 days. And satellite-tag retention has more than doubled, with some satellite tags attached for more than 300 days.

The Results

What’s the preliminary result? Almost 9,000 days of data across all tracked yellowfin tuna show that none have left the Gulf of Mexico.

We’re also seeing a high level of connectivity between fishing methods and locations, which hasn’t been previously documented. We’re looking to determine whether a fish’s tagging location has anything to do with its recapture location. It’s known that yellowfin tuna have a high level of association with structure, especially when they’re small, so it’s reasonable to wonder if that association might affect what other parts of the fishery you’ll see these same fish.

But so far a clear pattern has not emerged, with yellowfin tuna tagged at rigs being recaptured at the same rigs (where they were tagged) and other rigs, as well as shrimp boats and open-water schools and vice versa. And while we haven’t had any yellowfin tuna travel out of the Gulf, we have seen them recaptured by anglers off all Gulf states. Most recaptures have come from the Venice, Louisiana, charter fleet, but some have also come from Texas charter boats, Alabama private and charter boats, Florida private boats, and Gulf ­commercial pelagic longline vessels.

Another point to make here is that while tuna being captured at the same rig where they were tagged might not seem that interesting, remember that many of the offshore oil-field structures in the Gulf are mobile, like the drillship Ocean Black Rhino. So when some of the tuna tagged at one drillship were re-caught on the same drillship after it had moved more than 50 nautical miles, we were left to wonder if it’s really the fish doing all the moving or if their association with mobile structures might explain some of the dispersal patterns we’ve seen.

After three years of intensive study, a much more complete picture of the biology and life history of yellowfin tuna in the Gulf of Mexico has been uncovered. Not only do yellowfin tuna spawn off the Louisiana coast (see “Biological Research” sidebar), but that spawning activity helps to fuel the local fishery, which is composed of adults from both local and distant nurseries (see “Natural Tags” sidebar). And these tagging results suggest that no matter where the fish are spawned, once they end up in the Gulf, they’ll most likely stay around for a while.

When the previous Atlantic yellowfin tuna stock assessment was conducted in 2011, the Atlantic stock was found to be marginally overfished and possibly undergoing overfishing. The most recent stock assessment, which was just conducted in summer 2016, concluded that the fishery was overfished but that overfishing was not occurring. Data from several of the LDWF-coordinated projects were considered. And while the ICCAT continues to recommend a reduction in the mortality of small yellowfin, particularly in the FAD-associated fisheries in the eastern Atlantic, it is good to know that the regional fishery in the Gulf is not entirely dependent on foreign tuna-nursery grounds and their associated regulatory-compliance issues.

LDWF does not manage tuna, but the agency has certainly done its part to make sure the best science is made available to the federal and international managers of this fishery, which is in the best interest of all recreational and commercial fishermen.

Biological Research in the Gulf

Yellowfin tuna (Thunnus albacares) caught in the northern Gulf of Mexico recreational fishery were sampled as part of a life-history study funded by the Louisiana Department of Wildlife and Fisheries. Fisheries scientists Jim Franks, Nancy Brown-Peterson and Dyan Gibson, with the University of Southern Mississippi-Gulf Coast Research Laboratory, examined the feeding habits and reproductive biology of yellowfin tuna.

Examination of stomach contents from 1,286 yellowfin tuna (11 to 77 inches curved fork length, 12 to 221 pounds total weight) revealed a diverse diet comprised of 86 prey species, most of which were fishes and to a lesser extent invertebrates such as squid and offshore swimming crabs. More than 16,000 prey items were found in the stomachs. Some of the most common fish prey were menhaden, jacks, flying fish, mackerel, small tuna (including blackfins) and mullet, along with other prey including filefish, triggerfish, dolphin, snake mackerels, pufferfish, butterfish and spadefish.

Seasonal shifts in yellowfin diet roughly correlated with the availability of certain prey species. For example, the fall and winter diet consisted of prey commonly associated with bottom habitats, including flatfish, sea robins, croaker and shrimp, which supports local knowledge that yellowfins feed on bycatch from shrimp trawlers working in the northern Gulf at that time.

An exhaustive examination of the reproductive biology of yellowfin tuna from the Gulf revealed that females spawn from mid-April through August. Individual females produce multiple batches of eggs and spawn as frequently as every 1.3 to 3 days, with younger fish spawning less frequently than older, larger females. Individual females can produce as many as 1,180,978 eggs per fish, and an average-size female of about 70 pounds can produce 25,586,823 eggs during a single reproductive season. The size at 50 percent sexual maturity, which is a term commonly used by fisheries managers to describe the size at which half the females in a population are mature, is 38 inches CFL, well above the current 27-inch minimum-size limit.

Natural Tags Help Resolve Yellowfin Origins

Doctorate student Larissa Kitchens from Dr. Jay Rooker’s Fisheries Ecology Lab at Texas A&M University is currently using chemical tags in ear bones (otoliths) to look at the stock structure and migration of yellowfin tuna in the Atlantic Ocean. The main goal of this project is to determine whether yellowfin tuna in the Gulf of Mexico are part of a resident population that spawns locally or if yellowfin migrate into the Gulf of Mexico from distant spawning areas.

Chemical concentrations in otoliths reflect the chemistry of the seawater the fish inhabit, so otoliths act as a natural tag that can be used as a chronological record of habitat use and movement. In this project, chemicals in the otoliths of juvenile yellowfin from all of the major nursery areas in the Atlantic Ocean will be used to create chemical signatures for each nursery. Then, otoliths from adult yellowfin caught in the Gulf of Mexico will be analyzed, and the chemistry of the otolith core — which corresponds to nursery period — will be matched back to the nursery signatures to determine where these fish were spawned.

Results of this research will help to develop a better understanding of how valuable each of these nursery areas are to the Gulf of Mexico population. Preliminary results indicate that yellowfin tuna sampled from the Louisiana recreational fishery come from both distant and local nurseries. Ultimately, this information will improve the ability to effectively manage this important U.S. fishery and ensure that yellowfin tuna populations are sustainable.

About the Author: Brett Falterman is currently a program manager with the LDWF and oversees the state’s offshore fisheries independent monitoring surveys and research projects. With a graduate degree in marine science and more than 10 years of charter-fishing experience in the northern Gulf of Mexico, Falterman brings a unique perspective to addressing some of today’s challenges in fisheries management.

The Life and Times of the Dolphin

“Nature’s gift to offshore fishermen is the circumtropical mahimahi. For anglers, Coryphaena hippurus is both a worthy adversary on the troll — with its high-flying and unpredictable jumps — and a welcome sight around drifting flotsam.”

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