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.

In the early 1990s I got my first look.

The wind honked out of the north on the first chilly day in September. It just felt fishy.

Running toward the birds, I thought at first the boils were stripers. But when the fish came up, I knew this was something different: Streamlined muscular fish with green backs slashed through baitballs at an ungodly speed.

Composure lost, heart pounding, adrenaline level through the roof, I made several casts, which went unnoticed. About an hour and 30 casts later, I finally came tight, and it felt unreal. Line peeled off the reel so fast I didn’t know what to do. I cranked down the drag a quarter turn and the reel literally blew up, falling to pieces on the ground.

Didn’t matter. I was hooked. This was well beyond anything I had experienced before. Straight-up tuna inshore. Mind blown.

False Albacore Allure

I am not alone. All along the coast, false albacore (technically, little tunny — also known as albies, bonito, fat albert, hardtails and funny fish) have been blowing inshore anglers’ minds, particularly those light-tackle advocates who favor sight-casting rather than trolling or bait fishing.

“They’ve developed a steady following up here,” notes Capt. Paul Dixon, of Montauk, New York. “We’ve got a fleet that thrives on their arrival every fall.”

That’s because they’re what many hardcore light-tackle anglers describe as the perfect quarry, offering an often awesome visual surface feed, a high but not impossibly high level of difficulty, and drag-burning runs that create instant memories. And for fly-fishers? Rarely do you catch one that doesn’t bring you into backing almost instantly.

“The visual element is unique,” notes Capt. Ian Devlin, of Connecticut, who characterizes albies as ram-induction feeders (consistent with tunas). They don’t just chase bait, they tear through it. “It’s a quick, spectacular burst and then they’re gone, and you’ve got to get up and run after the next pod.”

“It’s definitely about the hunt … the chase,” says Capt. Gene Quigley, of New Jersey. “That’s what makes it exciting.”

But albie fishing is more than just the high-adrenaline run‑and-gun. “My favorite part is seeing the look on a guy’s face when he first hooks up,” notes Capt. Doug Jowett, of Cape Cod. “These fish just go and go.”

The visual element is unique. It’s a quick, spectacular burst and then they’re gone, and you’ve got to get up and run after the next pod.

— Capt. Ian Devlin

“What we’re talking about here is access to a strong, fast pelagic,” says Dixon. “A straight‑up tuna, sometimes a stone’s throw from the beach.” And they can be caught with fairly light gear, including flies. In that context, the albie run is pretty extraordinary.

“They are challenging,” notes Capt. Brian Horsley, of North Carolina. Albies are notorious for being very finicky and boat shy. “Sometimes we fish ’em all day and only catch a few.” Indeed, you have to make good, fast casts under pressure. That takes skill and composure — of course, that’s part of the albie draw.

Because the schools ­generally show up around the same time and places each year, the anticipation builds. Anglers gear up in advance. And when the first albies show, word spreads like wildfire.

When and Where to Target the Fish

While false albacore certainly don’t generate the avid following in Florida that they enjoy in the mid-Atlantic and southern New England, the fish do swarm the Sunshine State during late spring and summer.

“The southeast wind brings them in,” says Capt. Dino Torino, of Jupiter, Florida. “We have them from late May through August.” It’s a different fishery, though: no running and gunning, or chasing fish. “You stay put, and chum them up.”

In southern New England and the northern mid-Atlantic, where undoubtedly most of the targeting occurs, albies can be found 20 to 40 miles offshore, in depths of about 180 feet, pretty much any time from June on, mixed in with other pelagics, such as skipjack, bluefin and yellowfin. Inshore — within a mile of the beach and in harbors and bays — they’re most certainly a fall-run fish.

“We catch a few in Nags Head [Outer Banks, North Carolina], in August,” says Horsley. “But we don’t really focus on them until they show in September off of Harkers Island [farther south, near Morehead City].”

These smaller fish, in the 5-pound range, generally appear right near the beach. As October approaches, bigger fish mix in. “November is when the real biggies show. … All fish over 18 pounds,” he says.

Moving north: Although albies are caught off Virginia, Maryland and Delaware, for some reason they don’t set up there, and thus few anglers focus on them. The fish anglers do encounter don’t seem to stay long, and are likely just passing through.

From central to northern New Jersey, the fish consistently set up, and that’s where anglers really start targeting them. “We have fish offshore a bit, on the lumps earlier,” says Quigley. “But inshore it usually happens in September, although it seems to be happening later and later every year.”

“November is when the real biggies show. … All fish over 18 pounds.”

— Capt. Brian Horsley

Off the Long Island side of New York Harbor, the migration appears similar. Ten years ago, a first run of fish might occur off Breezy Point, New York, in late August, and the numbers would escalate into September. But now, the fishery doesn’t seem to get going until October. “We’ve actually had pretty good runs in early November these last few years,” says New York Harbor Capt. Danny Reich.

Albies show up intermittently along Long Island’s south shore, but it’s really that area from Long Branch, New Jersey, to Breezy Point, New York, and inside New York Harbor that tends to hold the best concentrations of fish in the region.

Out east, false albacore tend to set up in some pretty specific locations. Shinnecock Inlet, New York, is a well-known albie spot, particularly for those fishing from the jetty.

And then there’s Montauk, possibly the best albie spot on the coast. They show up, sometimes in spectacular numbers, off of Montauk Point Lighthouse, and can be found crashing through bay anchovies at any point all the way west to town.

“Usually, someone sees them off of the point in August,” says Dixon. “But once September rolls around, they fill in and can be found in pretty good numbers all the way back to Plum Island.”

The North Fork of Long Island sees a good run too, and the entire Rhode Island and Connecticut coastlines host albies at some point. Cape Cod seems to be the northern version of Montauk, although less consistent. And we can’t leave out the fish that show off Martha’s Vineyard and Nantucket in September.

Fall Live Bait Blitz

Where the albies show varies some year to year, but captains agree that bait generally drives the congregations.

Albies can be found feeding on many species: silversides, sand eels, juvenile menhaden, glass minnows, squid, small shrimp and crabs. Yet, without a doubt, the fish key in on bay anchovies in the mid-Atlantic. In Cape Cod, Martha’s Vineyard and Nantucket, they focus on sand eels.

“Yeah, they blitz on ­silversides, but for sure, they come into the Sound with the anchovies,” says Connecticut’s Devlin.

Bay anchovies usually measure 1 to 3 inches long, with a silver underbelly and a reddish, copper-colored back. The copper color only becomes obvious when the baitfish school up in the hundreds. Horsley calls them “red bait.”

These prey fish spend warmer months in the bays and estuaries of the mid-Atlantic. But the first cool night often signals an eastward migration in which they flood the inlets and beaches, bringing albies right up to the surf line.

“Montauk’s entire ecosystem revolves around bay anchovies,” says Dixon. “Some years we get sand eels, but anchovies create the big albie blitzes.”

The angle of your approach is real important. Turn the boat parallel to the fish so that after the cast, the angler can stay tight to the line.

— Capt. Gene Quigley

“Well, they certainly aren’t easy,” says Cape Cod’s Jowett. “Every once in a while, you’ll get a day where they feed recklessly, but the standard is you maybe catch a few.”

Whether you hook up or not is sometimes about the approach, says Horsley. “You’ve got to come in slow, off plane, making sure you don’t wash them out.” Indeed, big boats that push a lot of water seem to catch fewer fish than the smaller, lighter ones.

“The angle of your approach is real important,” says Quigley. “Turn the boat parallel to the fish so that after the cast, the angler can stay tight to the line.” Because they’re up and down so quickly, get the lure or fly moving as soon as it hits the water.

“Aggressive guys don’t help the situation,” says Dixon. “Running too fast spooks albies and breaks up the baitballs.”

It’s understandably hard for excited anglers to avoid chasing every pod of busting fish, but guys who take the wait-and-see approach score the high numbers. “Sure, I chase fish sometimes, but I also try and stay put, and look for patterns,” says Reich.

If you can calm down, observe and put yourself in the right place, you’re more likely to find yourself in the middle of a blitz rather than halfway down the beach following a pod that will sound before you can get there.

Patient anglers get bites by blind-casting too. “When crowds get bad, I go to points of land, depth changes, outflows or just areas I’ve noted bait concentrations, and we blind-fish,” says Devlin.

John Skinner, a New York angler and author of several books on surf-casting, notes that from shore, you usually don’t get shots at busting fish. “Just about every fish I catch is blind-casting. You really just need to find likely spots and then put in the time.”

False Albacore Lures and Tackle

Because albies can be finicky, baits and their presentation count. Generally, you won’t get them with striper techniques.

The go-to albie lure for some time has been the Deadly Dick — locally called a tin, a small, slender metal lure with reflective tape — in the ½- to 3-ounce versions. For sure, it catches.

Skinner uses all sizes: the windier, the heavier. But he throws the 2-ounce version more than anything. “You gotta reel in as fast as you can,” he says. “You can’t out-reel them.”

Most of the strikes he describes as “spectacular,” right on the surface, as the tin skips across the water. “If you’re fishing them right, it’ll be too fast for stripers and bluefish.”

Boat anglers also use Deadly Dick lures. Their weight and wind resistance allows quick, long casts. However, any small, slender metal lure can catch fish; ones with reflective prismatic tape tend to work best.

On the other hand, the newest generation of albie anglers swears by soft plastics, such as a 6-inch pink or white Slug-Go-type bait. “It flies in the face of all of us match-the-hatch ­advocates,” says Reich. “But they do draw violent strikes.”

Soft plastics need to be worked much slower than metal, and with an erratic, twitching motion. If you want them to swim right, you also have to fish them on a weedless hook with no weight, which makes them tough to cast, particularly in any stiff wind. Albie Snax soft baits have developed a following. They’re heavier, so casting is less of an issue.

From a boat or the beach, most anglers use a 7-foot medium-heavy spinning outfit. While they aren’t terribly big, albies are quite strong. Choose a serious reel with a smooth drag, capable of carrying at least 250 yards of 20-pound braid. I’ve seen lesser reels blow up. Use 4 feet of 20- to 30-pound fluorocarbon for a leader.

For fly anglers, Bob Popovich’s “surf candy,” in tan or copper over white, and other epoxy bay anchovy patterns seem to work the best. However, in recent years, some have moved away from real colors to more flashy ones such as chartreuse and pink. Which flies work, and when, really depends on the mood of the fish.

Many anglers go with a 9-weight for tackle, but some move up to a 10 so they can land fish faster. The reel should feature a good drag system and hold at least 250 yards of backing with a clear intermediate fly line. Leaders vary, but a lot of guys simply use 6 to 8 feet of straight 20-pound fluorocarbon. For finicky fish, try 15-pound-test.

Don’t Eat the Albies

Up until the past several decades, false albacore didn’t garner much attention — from anyone. That’s likely because they’re mostly inedible.

I found that out the hard way when I brought one home and tried to cook a couple of pieces. The smell lingered for several days; my cat wouldn’t even eat it.

The meat on a false albacore is dark red. Some folks claim to eat it, but I can’t see how.

Such a trait might be a blessing. Nasty flavor could be the reason these fish remain so abundant and reliable inshore at particular times of the year. Some commercial pressure exists, but remains minimal, at least for now.

That leaves albie addicts an available source of their particular drug. From the surface feed to their hard, fast run, these fish keep us jonesing for more.

About the Author:
Capt. John McMurray is owner-operator of One More Cast Charters, in western Long Island, New York.

The post False Albie Addicts appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

That the ocean’s most advanced and highly developed swimming machines are also among the most popular of game fishes with the world’s saltwater angling enthusiasts is hardly a coincidence. As anglers, we have tremendous respect for the spirited fighting qualities of tunas — difficult to release, should we wish to, because they truly will fight their hearts out when hooked. So what is it that makes tunas the über-fish of our oceans? The more we learn about our favorite game fish, the more fascinating they are.

Are Mackerels Tuna? What Are True Tunas?

Tunas are part of the family Scombridae, which also includes mackerels, large and small. But there are tunas, and then there are, well, “true tunas.” Two groups (sometimes known as “tribes”) dominate the tuna clan. One is Thunnini, which is the group considered true tunas, characterized by two separate dorsal fins and a relatively thick body. The 15 species of Thunnini are albacore, bigeye, black skipjack, blackfin, bluefin (three species: Atlantic, Pacific, southern), bullet, frigate, kawakawa, little tunny, longtail, skipjack, slender and yellowfin.

The other tribe is Sardini; these tunas — the dogtooth tuna and several species of smaller true bonitos — are somewhat more mackerel-like (notably with a more elongated body and a row of sharp, conical teeth).

How do Tuna Swim so Fast and Hard?

Sport fishermen know that when they hook a large tuna, they’re in for a long, drawn-out, relentless battle. Nothing characterizes tunas more than their powerful, tireless swimming. In fact, these fish have no choice but to swim endlessly: As explained more thoroughly below, they’re ram ventilators, meaning forward motion is required as they move with mouth open to force water past their gills.

Most fishes, such as groupers, snappers and jacks, can remain motionless and respire by opening and closing their mouths to push water through their gills. Tunas have lost the ability to do that (even if they could, such small pushes of water wouldn’t offer their large gills the tremendous flow they require to supply their systems with oxygen). A suitable motto for tunas, then, is “swim or die.”

How tunas have evolved to move efficiently through the water is reflected in their design, both externally and internally. Of their fusiform body shape (tapering fore and aft), Sport Fishing Fish Facts expert Ben Diggles says, “Their almost-perfect hydrodynamic shape minimizes drag with a very low drag coefficient,” optimizing efficient swimming both at cruise and burst.

And these torpedoes are perfectly streamlined, their larger fins fitting perfectly into grooves so no part of these fins protrudes above the body surface. They lack the convex eyes of most fish; rather, a membrane covering tuna eyes remains flush with their heads, maintaining a surface with minimal drag. Keels and finlets in front of the tail provide stability and help reduce the turbulence in the water ahead of the tail.

Unlike most fishes with broad, flexible tails that bend to scoop water to move a fish forward, tunas derive tremendous thrust with thin, hard, lunate (moon-shaped) tails that beat constantly, capable of 10 to 12 or more beats per second. That relentless thrust accounts for the unstoppable runs that tuna make repeatedly when hooked.

As with other fast-swimming fishes, a primary limitation on top speed for tunas is cavitation, which at high speeds can slow them and even damage fins. (Cavitation is caused when negative pressure forms tiny air bubbles, which then collapse and form shock waves. Cavitation can damage the metal in propellers — and cause lesions in the fins of fish that swim “too fast,” such as tunas.)

Why Is a Tuna’s Meat Red?

While many of the characteristics that account for the tuna’s remarkable swimming ability are visible externally, some of the most astonishing adaptations are internal.

Certainly, that includes their extensive aerobic red muscle. Many fishes are ambush predators, relying on bursts of speed to feed but swimming slowly otherwise. Their bodies are mostly filled with white muscle — glycolytic fibers used in infrequent burst swimming. Tunas employ far more red muscle; their oxidative fibers prove ideal for long-haul, constant swimming without fatigue. Also, red muscle is full of myoglobin, which stores oxygen in the muscle tissues, for use as needed.

With so much red muscle demanding that much more oxygen, tunas’ gills — their organs for respiration, of course — are huge. For example, a tuna has seven to nine times more gill area for its size compared to relatively sedentary trout. And, not surprisingly, you’ve gotta have heart: Moving great amounts of oxygenated blood through their bodies requires tunas to have far larger hearts than most fish. Not only that, but another way tunas have advanced beyond most fishes — which have a constant heart rate — is their ability, like mammals, to vary their heart rate, maximizing efficiency.

Can Tuna Warm Their Bodies?

Arguably the most striking and sophisticated adaptation we can’t see — but science has revealed — is the ability of larger true tunas to heat certain areas of their bodies. They do this through what are known as the retia mirabilia (“wonderful net”), an ingenious counter-current vascular heat-exchange system. Basically, parallel veins and arteries exchange blood, allowing tunas to conserve metabolic heat via what is called regional endothermy, warming their red muscle tissue, brain, eyes and viscera well above ambient water temperatures.

This regional endothermy gives them the same metabolic advantage that Homo sapiens and other mammals enjoy. In fact, tunas couldn’t sustain the swim-or-die lifestyle nor be the relentless eating machines they are without that higher metabolic rate, allowing them to swim longer and faster, their brains and eyes to function better in cold water, and their viscera to digest more quickly and efficiently.

Further demonstrating the brilliance of their plumbing, larger tunas can shed excess heat from their bodies during periods of intense feeding (in essence, while doing wind sprints) via their retia mirabilia, which uses blood from gills cooled by ambient water to reduce body heat. This system also undoubtedly comes into play as one factor in the amazing endurance that hooked tunas show to resist their capture.

How Deep do Tuna Swim?

Much of the evolutionary success of tunas derives from their ability to transition from warm to cool waters in a way that most — less advanced, cold-blooded — fishes can’t manage.

Satellite tagging has revealed much about the feeding behavior and movements of large tunas, including their tendency to dive into deep, cold water. Scientists have documented that yellowfin feed at times in waters much deeper than once believed, but the bigeye is a champ in the deep-dive category, often feeding in waters exceeding 1,500 feet — and diving to more than 5,000 feet.

Apparently, these daytime deep divers are taking advantage of what’s known as the deep-scattering layer, a concentration of biomass (plankton and larger organisms) typically settling by day into 1,500 to 2,000 feet of water (which rises to or near the surface nightly). This is the same DSL in which swordfish feed during the day. Perhaps not so surprisingly, daytime swordy anglers have been hooking some large tuna while dropping deep.

The other abyss-loving tuna is the bluefin. What large yellowfin, bigeye and bluefin have in common that enables them to feed at great depths is body mass. Juveniles and smaller species of tuna, lacking that, lose body heat too rapidly to allow them to leave near-surface waters for long.

Heat is lost in the frigid waters at depth, but rewarming occurs when tunas move up into warmer waters — where heating occurs at 100 to 1,000 times the rate that it’s lost. (This may be facilitated with blood bypassing lateral heat exchangers, so blood warmed and oxygenated in the gills by ambient, warmer waters enters the red muscle directly.)

What large tunas have in common that encourages them to feed so deep is simply an abundance of food in these cold but productive waters.

How Far do Tuna Travel?

The same motivation to find more and more food accounts for far-ranging horizontal movements as well as vertical dives into colder waters. So, for example, in the North Atlantic, the world’s largest giant bluefin are caught at the most northerly edges of the species’ range — the Canadian Maritimes — and in the South Pacific, the largest giants come from the most southern part of the southern bluefin’s range — off New Zealand’s South Island. In both instances, only the great body mass of giants provides enough thermal inertia — a small enough ratio of surface area to volume to prevent rapid cooling — so they can take advantage of vast schools of prey.

Large tunas are truly superfish, at the zenith of evolutionary design and success as predators among the ocean’s fishes. Little wonder they’re among the very most popular targets worldwide among saltwater recreational fishermen. The more we as anglers understand these magnificent fish, the more we can appreciate the opportunity to fish for and catch them.

Is Disaster Imminent for Tunas?

Tunas occasionally make it into mainstream news, and when they do, the circumstances (for continued survival of the species) usually sound pretty dire. However, a scientist at the University of Washington, found that just 30 percent of commercial tuna stocks had an abundance below that which would produce maximum sustainable yield.

Recently, Atlantic bluefin tuna have made a noticeable comeback. And anglers are taking advantage of it. In particular, many Northeast area anglers have spent the summer months targeting tuna of all sizes, both inshore and far offshore.“ The abundance of tunas and their relatives has declined from pre-industrial levels, but in general, they are at sustainable levels,” said Maite Pons, Ph.D..

The post Common Questions About Tuna appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

Do you have a photograph of a fish you can’t identify? If so, we’re up for the challenge, and would welcome the opportunity to share your photo and its ID with an international audience of enthusiasts. (Whether published or not, we will personally respond to every inquiry.) Email your jpgs, as large/hi-res as possible, to: fishfacts@sportfishingmag.com.

Some Fish Facts fans have been wondering about the difference between a “standard” yellowfin tuna and an Allison tuna. References to both names are commonplace. For example, Tom Pytel writes, “I often notice in photos some yellowfin tuna with very long anal fins. I’ve caught yellowfin to 100-plus pounds, but none has had those long fins. Is this strictly associated with size or perhaps sex, or some other factor?”

So Fish Facts thought it should, once and for all, clarify this tuna teaser. To cut to the chase, there is no difference: We’re talking about one species, Thunnus albacares.

But indeed, some yellowfin have clearly elongate second dorsal and anal fins. It’s the only species of tuna that exhibits this variation in fin length, says John Graves. Graves, for years chair of fisheries science at the Virginia Institute of Marine Science, is one of the world’s leading tuna and billfish experts. He notes that the longer fins occur in only larger yellowfin. “In the extreme, the length of these fins can be greater than 40 percent of the total length of the fish. Some refer to these Allison tuna.”

Graves says this occurs independent of the fishes’ sex, but not of the location. “There’s a lot of geographic variation in the length of these fish.” For example, he says, across the Pacific, the relative lengths of yellowfin second dorsal and anal fins tends to increase from east to west.

In scientific terms, this variation in fin size for years “created havoc with the taxonomy of yellowfin tuna,” he says. As many as seven species of yellowfin tuna have been recognized, based on fin size. “It was only in the mid 1960s that the various geographic populations were combined into a single, circumglobal species.”

So while some anglers will remain convinced they’ve caught an Allison tuna, Fish Facts fans will know the truth: It’s a yellowfin tuna, no matter the length of its fins.

The post Fish Facts: What is an Allison Tuna? appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

You might catch a giant bluefin tuna in many locations, as disparate as the Gulf of Mexico off Louisiana or the coast of Ireland. But no single area in the world concentrates huge bluefin like Nova Scotia (NS) and Prince Edward Island (PEI) in Canada’s Maritimes. Here, the cold waters of the northwest Atlantic attract great schools of forage, including the herring and mackerel on which tuna feast and fatten. Those same chilly waters discourage smaller bluefin, which have to work hard to stay warm. Bluefin are among the few fishes that can heat their bodies for more efficient predation. The giants’ larger body mass makes it easier for them to remain and feast in the cold, food-rich waters of the Maritimes.

A glance at the IGFA record book tells the story: Of the eight line-class world-record bluefin tuna weighing more than 600 pounds, six were caught off NS or PEI. That includes the remarkable 1,496-pound all-tackle world record bluefin that Ken Fraser caught in 1979.

While that record has remained intact for well over four decades, many bluefins approaching that size have been caught. “Our largest Nova Scotia giant bluefin tuna was caught by Graeme Weiss, of San Diego, in 2013,” says Capt. Josh Temple, who has guided anglers to NS giants for 14 consecutive seasons. “We estimated it at 1,400 pounds, and we have encountered larger fish than that one, which earned their freedom during the fight.”

Temple says there’s no doubt fish even larger than 1,496 pounds are swimming in NS waters, noting that Ken Fraser, who caught the world record and is a friend of Temple’s, “will be the first to tell you he’s seen them bigger.”

Temple cites the first day of his first season in NS 14 years ago, as the day that hooked him. After catching and releasing several giants (he says by NS standards, a giant is at least 700 pounds), “we spent the rest of the day hand-feeding bait to hundreds of giant bluefin. All of this in water less than 60 feet deep and less than 500 yards off the shore, within sight of my pickup, parked at the wharf.”

The focus on NS and PEI by enthusiasts around the world hasn’t ruined the fishery. On the contrary, says Temple, “Thanks to exceptionally well-developed and implemented management frameworks internationally and nationally, giant bluefin populations across the Atlantic have rebounded significantly” and nowhere have the benefits of that been more consistent than around NS. The fact that, “Ninety percent of the giant tuna caught by rod-and-reel in NS are released is a statistic that has surely contributed to the health and sustainability of their numbers in these waters,” he says.

Planning a Trip

When to Go: The giant season in Nova Scotia starts at some point in July and runs into October. Last-minute bookings with top charters are unlikely; best to book the winter prior to your intended trip. If you want the entire tuna trip planned and organized for you, consider signing up for the Sport Fishing Expedition in Nova Scotia.

Where to Go and How to Get There: While you’ll find some charters based in various ports in the province, Ballantyne’s Cove on the Northumberland Shore of Cape George, near the town of Antigonish on the northern end of the island, hosts a concentration of operations. You can drive here — as a reference, plan on 1,000 miles from New York or a bit less than half of that from Bangor, Maine. Those flying in will generally book to Halifax’s Stanfield International Airport. Some operators will arrange transportation from Stanfield to the harbor, or visitors can rent a car.

What to Expect: A number of charters operate from Nova Scotia ports, typically in downeast-style boats designed for fishing in these waters. Typically, they supply the heavy tackle needed to battle big bluefin from a fighting chair. This is catch-and-release fishing, so don’t plan on filling coolers. Figure on $1,700 ($2,300 Canadian), give or take, for a full day of fishing.

What to Bring: Many boats offer stand-up fishing; check with your skipper to see what he offers, and/or about bringing your own stand-up gear. Of course, a good camera and set of foul-weather gear are essential, though summer days are often dry and in the 70s F. By fall, expect 50s and 60s.

Where to Stay: You’ll find a variety of hotels, suites and cabins in the area. Many charter skippers offer or will arrange accommodations for clients.

What Else: As far as fishing goes, Temple says, “For most anglers, NS has a lot of great pelagic fishing left to discover. We’re also catching — seasonally — marlin, yellowfin, bigeye, [true] albacore and even wahoo and dorado along the continental shelf off southwest Nova Scotia, as well as good numbers of giant blue swordfish.”

Besides fishing, the Northumberland Shore is known for having the most “warm-water ocean beaches in Atlantic Canada.” You can explore the works of many skilled artisans here and eat lobster till you burst.

Helpful Links

• Places to go
• Search “bluefin tuna” for several charters
• Northumberland Tourism
• Bluefin Charters
• Tuna Charters Nova Scotia
• Sport Fishing Expeditions

The post Big Bluefins in the Maritimes appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

Best Time for California Yellowfin Tuna

Captain Andy Cates, of the Red Rooster III, says the season kicks off in September with 8- to 10-day trips to the lower banks including Potato Bank, Finger Bank and Morgan Bank. This is the land of giants, with the majority of yellowfin tuna weighing 200 to 300 pounds. “If you get a bite, it’s a big one,” Cates says.

The captain compares early-season fishing to big game hunting. He says anglers prepare for weeks for a shot at a true trophy. By January, the water on the lower banks cools down and the big tuna disappear. “We have no idea where they go,” Cates marvels.

That’s when he turns his attention to longer 15- to 18-day trips to the Hurricane Bank. Cates describes Hurricane Bank’s fishing as “action packed.” The bulk of the action is on 90- to 150-pound yellowfin. “Lucky anglers can get eight to 10 bites a day,” he says. 

The main goal of long-range anglers is landing a 200- to 300-pound cow yellowfins. Cates says February through April is the best shot at a trophy. In addition to tuna, Hurricane Bank offers top-notch wahoo fishing.

Cooler Water Temperatures Scared off Sharks

With the season wrapping up, Cates reflects on the trends he observed. “The water stayed cooler, so the fishing was better,” he says. Cates explains the cooler water discouraged sharks and presented a better opportunity to catch a tuna. 

In the beginning of January, Cates explained that the water temperature was in the mid-70s. As the season progressed, the temperature dropped to 72.5 degrees and the sharks disappeared. “It was absolutely brilliant fishing,” Cates remembers.

Hooks and Plugs for Tuna

Going toe to toe with a 300-pound yellowfin tuna requires the most advanced tackle. Cates says, “Lightweight and powerful rods and reels we use make it possible for anyone to land a cow.” The key connection is the hook, and Cates prefers the Trokar 619 series for strength and performance.

The hot lure for trolling for wahoo is the Nomad DTX. Cates laughs, “Everyone on the back of the boat has a DTX.” For the optimal action, anglers tie the swimming plug directly to the mainline. “Using wire makes the lure come out of the water,” he says.

Bluefin Tuna Fishing Heats up in June

As we interviewed Cates, he was preparing Red Rooster III for the last 15-day trip to the banks. When he returns, he expects San Diego bluefin tuna fishing to heat up. “Bluefin fishing is spotty right now but it should get better in June,” he says. 

Cates says the best bluefin action is at night, so he plans to bottom fish during the day and tuna fish at night. “We’ll catch 50- to 200-pound bluefin only 50 miles from San Diego,” he says. 

As for next season on the Mexican banks, Cates is hopeful. “If everything sustains and we don’t get a lot of warm water, I expect next season to rival this year.”

The post California Tuna Fishing Heats Up appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

MOST of the people were completely shocked, they couldn’t believe what they saw, said Capt. Tim Oestreich. All he could do was laugh about his customers’ reactions to the 676-pound bluefin tuna they caught on the 95-foot head boat Dolphin Express. But the crew running the Dolphin Express wasn’t surprised — the experienced anglers were ready for anything.

Gulf Coast Long Range Fishing

Oestreich operates an offshore headboat out of Port Aransas, Texas. On his extended 56-hour trips, the 16-angler party targets tuna by casting lures to floating oil rigs in 3,800 to 9,800 feet of water. On an average trip, the boat catches a limit of three yellowfin per person. “I probably land 1,100 tuna every four or five months,” Oestreich said.

In addition to yellowfin and blackfin tunas, Oestreich also catches marlin, wahoo and dolphin. To target blue marlin, he bridles a live blackfin tuna to a 130-class rod and freelines the bait behind the boat. That’s what he was doing when he hooked a massive bluefin tuna that made headlines and blew up fishing social media.

Rigged Up for Oil Rigs

Fishing at the Hoover Diana oil fields, about 130 to 160 miles from Port Aransas, Oestreich said the trip started rough with 6- to 8-foot seas, but the yellowfin tuna were biting. 

For tackle, the anglers use a 7-foot conventional rod and Accurate BOSS Extreme 600 two-speed reel. For spin fishers, a 7-foot, 6-inch spinning rod and PENN Slammer III reel is a good option. No matter the setup, anglers on the boat launch a Frenzy Flying Fish or Halco 130 lure into the rig lights.

Oestreich fills the Accurate with 500 yards of 65-pound PowerPro Maxcuatro and adds a 150-foot topshot of 80-pound-test monofilament. For the spinning rod, he uses 80-pound braid and three feet of 80-pound fluorocarbon leader.

Another tactic is chunking bite-size pieces of blackfin. “I probably cut up 60 to 80 blackfin each night,” Oestreich marveled. He fishes the chunks on a 7/0 Mustad semi-circle hook tied to three feet of 80-pound fluorocarbon. “If the tuna are really picky, I’ll go down to 50-pound fluoro leader and a 3/0 hook.”

A Big Bait Equals A Big Bite

While the party was playing with tuna, Oestreich used a 130-pound outfit to drop a live blackfin tuna behind the boat. He spools the reel with 200-pound braided line, a 300-pound topshot and 300-pound fluorocarbon leader. He attaches a 16/0 Owner hook to the end of the top shot and bridles the small tuna.

“The bait was in the water for 10 minutes when we got the bite,” he said. 

On the initial run, the big tuna dumped 800 yards of line. Oestreich puts the fish’s feat in perspective, “That’s almost a half mile straight down in about a minute.” 

As the fish dumped line, Oestreich figured he had 90 pounds of drag on the reel. “We were running hellacious drag,” he said. Each member of the party took turns reeling on the fish — some people would last two or three minutes before they gave up. “When one angler was done, I would call for fresh meat on the reel,” he joked. 

In 45 minutes, they had the fish to the boat, but the tuna took off again.

“You can’t chase a big tuna in deep water or you’ll fight it for hours,” pointed out Oestreich. Instead, he tried to get ahead of the fish, keep the line at an angle and keep the fish moving. He estimated he worked the tuna for two-and-a-half miles. In another 45 minutes they had it next to the boat.

But the tuna wasn’t done. With incredible pressure on the line and the rod in the rod holder, the tuna made a mad dash and snapped his 130-pound rod. Oestreich winced, “That rod cost $1,000.”

The fish was only 40 feet from the boat, so Oestreich jumped on the reel and what was left of the rod. Second captain Matt Murchinson took the boat controls. Mate Dan Haluzen worked the leader. And mates Patrick Simpson and Kurt Jackson manned the gaffs. Everything was under control and the big bluefin tuna was quickly subdued.

Landing a Big Bluefin Tuna on a Head Boat

How do you get a huge tuna onto a headboat? Oestreich was ready for that, too. He attached a snatch block to the tuna’s tail and ran the rope to the upper deck. “We had 8 guys pulling on the rope and the crew using gaffs to guide the fish into the side gate.”

Then they had another problem. The tuna was too big for the fish box, so the crew went to work. “We had to modify the fish box with a saw,” he laughed.

Once the fish was landed, the crew celebrated with hoots, hollers and high-fives, but the party was surprisingly quiet. Oestreich recalled, “I tried to explain to them they had just seen the biggest fish of their lives.”

Preparation Pays Off

The captain credits experience and preparation for making the catch. Two years ago, he landed a 760-pound bluefin on a private charter with one angler. “I’ve been doing this my whole life and the boat holds multiple state and world records,” he said. 

He also spent hours prepping gear and maintaining tackle. Keeping an offshore headboat operation running on all cylinders is a group effort. “Before each trip, the whole team is here pulling line off reels and tying leaders,” he said. “The weakest link is the fish’s face — as long as nothing goes wrong, his a** is grass.”

Oestreich says the bluefin show up off Port Aransas in March and stick around through April. The night they landed the 676-pounder they also released a fish he estimated at 500 pounds, plus they pulled the hook on a monster over 800 pounds. A few days after his catch, another boat brought in a 750-pound bluefin. This is Oestreich’s one and only bluefin for the season (Gulf Coast anglers are only allowed to keep one big bluefin each year).

READ NEXT: The Best North Carolina Bluefin Tuna Season in Years

The post The Inside Story Behind a Giant Texas Bluefin Tuna appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

According to reports coming out of North Carolina’s Outer Banks, 2023 will go down as one of the best bluefin tuna seasons on record. Not only were anglers catching more bluefin over 500 pounds, but for the first time in years, smaller bluefin were mixed in with the migration.

Oceans East Bait and Tackle is located a few miles from Oregon Inlet, home of a major wintertime bluefin tuna fishing fleet. Serving as a clearinghouse for local fishing news and new tactics, shop owner Jimmy Hillsman is at the center of the bluefin scene.

“The neat thing is, we have two groups of fish,” Hillsman said. “Southeast of Oregon Inlet, bluefin averaging 600 pounds are mixed with wahoo, big eyes and blackfin tuna. Farther south off Diamond Shoals, a mixed class of fish from 60 pounds to over 500 are schooled up and hungry. It’s a great sign for the future.”

With the best bluefin fishing in recent memory, Hillsman has seen some hardcore anglers make amazing catches. Here are a few of his top picks from some of the best fishing teams of the season.

Bluefin Tuna Fishing Night and Day 

Capt. Brandon Christian, on the boat Crime Scene, has been on a bluefin streak this winter. “He’s a private boater and every few days he sends us photos of big fish,” Hillsman explained. 

When we reached Christian a few days after the trophy bluefin season ended, the Sport Drinking Apparel spokesman was still catching up on sleep. “I went pretty hard and fished a lot of long days and nights,” he said.

One of the highlights of Christian’s season was landing a bluefin he estimated to push 700 pounds. The fish was one of the season’s biggest, but he paid for it.

“I arrived at the fishing grounds at 7 am and got my first bite in 20 minutes,” he remembered. The fish quickly pulled the hook and Christian spent the next two days looking for his next encounter. “I didn’t get another bite until 5:30 the next night,” he said. That’s right, he trolled all day, drifted Boston mackerel all night, and trolled the next day until he finally connected just before sunset. “If I don’t [get it done], I have to stay out,” he laughed.

The hot bait was a green-head and crystal skirt Joe Shute lure. “This year was a green head year,” hinted Christian. 

The Biggest Bluefin Tuna of the Year

Back at Oceans East, Jimmy Hillsman recalled one of the biggest bluefin of the year. “Eric Price, on the Outlaw, landed a 116 inch tuna estimated to weigh 750 pounds,” he said

When I asked Price about the catch, the veteran bluefin captain and Wicked Tuna Outer Banks participant said it was his personal best and the fish of a lifetime. “We hooked the fish before sunset and didn’t land it until after sunset,” he remembered. In the dark, Price didn’t realize the fish’s size until the three-man crew tried to pull it through the fish door. Price laughed, “We couldn’t even get the tuna’s lips into the door.”

Luckily, Price’s boat has a boom pole. “With the fish’s tail at the top of the boom its head was still dangling in the water,” he marveled. The crew managed to wrestle the fish onboard. “I didn’t really get a look at the size until it was laying on the deck,” he said.

Price caught the giant on a 3-ounce Joe Shute lure with a white head and white skirt. “I use the 3-and 5-ounce heads when the seas are rough,” he explained. He also mixes in naked ballyhoo and sea witches.

Bluefin Tuna Caught on a Greenstick

Another noteworthy bluefin team fished aboard Predator. Jimmy Hillsman, at Oceans East said, “He had some really big ones and he fished out of both Oregon Inlet and Hatteras this year.” 

Captain Chris Barnett had just returned to Hatteras when I called for his take on the bluefin season. “My season was a huge success,” he reported. Barnett was on location in Oregon Inlet when the tuna showed in January. “I caught fish 12 out of 16 trips,” he calculated. Price said on an average day he faced 5- to 8-foot seas and winds over 20 knots. 

One of Barnett’s best memories was the result of good karma. “I had just replaced both motors in the boat,” he explained. With less than an hour on the new motors, he headed to Diamond Shoals looking for bluefin. Along the way, he helped another boat that was taking on water. “We dropped off a pump and stayed with him until he was underway back home,” he remembered.

Predator continued to steam south. Less than an hour after they put lines in the water, they were hooked up. The fish turned out to be his biggest of the season at 106 inches and 542 pounds core weight. Barnett caught his big fish dangling rubber squid from a greenstick. “We caught a lot of fish on the greenstick this season,” he added. 

Another highlight for Barnett came in the last days of the recreational giant season. “I put together a charter of my best clients and we hooked a doubleheader,” he remembered. 

The two fish cooperated by running in different directions and Barnett quickly brought the first fish boatside. “We hooked it on a swim-hook and left it in the water while we fought the second tuna,” he explained. “The second fish was bigger, so we were able to release the first fish.” 

The trophy tuna was 98 inches and estimated to weigh over 500 pounds. 

Bluefin Season Continues

Speaking of good times, Capt. Andy Piland on the Hatteras boat named Good Times has been in the tuna bite all winter.

I dropped in on my old friend Captain Andy and his daughter April between fishing trips. Both anglers admitted that this season reminds them of the good old days when bluefin tuna were plentiful and close to Hatteras Inlet. “It’s like the nineties again,” Andy reminisced. 

For Piland, the highlight in 2023 has been the variety of bluefin he’s encountering. “I’m most excited to see the little fish,” he laughed. While many anglers fixate on catching big tuna, Piland said the young tuna are a promising sign for the future.

Not only are the bluefin aggressive and in good numbers, but the mixture of small to medium size bluefin makes fighting the fish more enjoyable for the angler. “I love to watch a family out for the first time experience this fishery and have a great time,” said April, an accomplished mate on Good Times. 

One of the crew’s highlights was hosting a family with a patriarch who had suffered several health issues over the past few years. “Everyone got in on the fishing,” April remembered. “This was truly a family-friendly size of bluefin tuna.” 

Andy has been finding fish in 65- to 74-degree water, surprisingly close to shore. “We’re catching fish in 20 to 40 fathoms,” he said. In fact, Andy has spotted bluefin tuna within a mile of the inlet because of the plentiful baitfish inshore.

Mixed in with the bluefin, they get a shot at yellowfin and blackfin tuna. “Our last trip we had a 180-pound bluefin and a mess of blackfin,” Andy said. April added, “It’s a great time to score a slam by landing three different species of tuna.”

The crew has been trolling 1- to 3-ounce MagicTail Hoo Magic lures and ballyhoo. “I’m a crystal girl,” April said, preferring a translucent skirt over her bait.

While the bluefin season is already unprecedented, there is still great fishing ahead. Anglers are able to keep bluefin tuna under 73 inches, perfect size to target with vertical jigs and topwater lures. “We start out trolling and then switch to light tackle for something different,” April explained. Over the next few months, Hatteras turns into a Mecca for hardcore anglers obsessed with battling big fish on spinning rods.

The post Best North Carolina Bluefin Tuna Season in Years appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

Certainly, in most of the world anyway, every fishing season ends at some point. But wherever you fish, sometimes it’s hard to know when the show is over. Plus, there’s likely a bit of variance each year.  

In my neck of the woods of the New York Bight, the season generally runs from April through November.  And after that? It’s a long, painful wait until things crank back up again in the new year. That’s the reason many of us never rule out December in the Northeast. Still, the safe way to play it is to recognize every fishing day we get after Thanksgiving is a gift.  Not only do the stripers begin to thin out, but the weather windows quickly become scarce.  

That said, we can and often do get blessed with a December run of bluefin tuna on their way down from Nova Scotia, and they are often unusually close to shore. I call these fish “ghosts.” Some years they stick around, some years they don’t. Some years we get good windows to chase them, some years we don’t. It’s all worth mentioning here even if it’s not reliable year to year.  

December is a crazy time for us. And I don’t mean crazy in the holiday sense, or crazy in the prep your boat for winter sense. I mean that December drives us crazy mentally, hoping for one last shot before it’s all over until April.  

But like I said, it’s all gotta end each season at some point. Below is a list of when most of us psychos start to get the hint. The Fat Lady has sung, and it’s time to pack it in.

1. You start scratching your head because you don’t understand why no one else is stupid enough to want to fish in subfreezing weather and marginal conditions. 
2. There’s maybe one day in the 10-day forecast that looks remotely fishable, and even that day looks less favorable the closer you get to it.
3. You head out even though you know you probably shouldn’t, and immediately regret it.   
4. You walk down an icy gangway, and like one of those cartoons, you run backward in place for a few seconds before falling on your butt.  
5. You embark on the winter-long process of questioning why you live here. Also, you might question all of you life choices because you have the time. 
6. You leave your heat gun down on the dock to unfreeze boat hatches.
7. The stripers are still abundant, but each catch is smaller and smaller the colder it gets. The dogfish bite though is awesome though!
8. You hang on every third-hand tuna report, and you can often be heard muttering to yourself “they’re still here” and “it’s not over yet.”
9. You constantly figure out new and unique excuses not to pull your boats out of the water.  
10. You begin to treat those smarter people, who have winterized their boats already, with utter distain.  
11. Your alcohol intake increases incrementally, then exponentially. But at least it keeps you warm.
12. Your disposition begins to degenerate, and you slowly become even more “temperamental” than usual.
13. You buy every gallon of antifreeze the hardware store has in stock.  
14. You become a master at replacing sections of cracked water pipe.  
15. You finally capitulate and pull your boat(s), but wait until they fill up with a foot of snow before shrink-wrapping. Because it’s entirely possible they might go back in the water (even though they never do).
16. As soon as you winterize everything, you get a text about a totally legit report of bluefin busting right outside of the inlet.  

In the end though, acceptance of the inevitable eventually sets in and you begin to feel a little less insane. You set your sights on April, and start to develop lists of things that need to get done over the winter. Because the truth is, it was a pretty good season, no matter how you cut it.    

But we’d like to hear from you! When do you know the fat lady has sung on your fishing season?

The post How to Know When the Fat Lady Has Sung on Your Fishing Season appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

mp noaa tuna oil

Scientists from Stanford University and the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) have discovered that crude oil interferes with fish heart cells. The toxic consequence is a slowed heart rate, reduced cardiac contractility and irregular heartbeats that can lead to cardiac arrest and sudden cardiac death.

The research, published in the Feb. 14 issue of Science, is part of the ongoing Natural Resource Damage Assessment of the April 2010 Deepwater Horizon oil spill.

While crude oil is known to be cardiotoxic to developing fish, the physiological mechanisms underlying its harmful effects were unclear. Stanford and NOAA scientists studying the impact of crude oil from the Deepwater Horizon spill on tuna discovered that it interrupts the ability of fish heart cells to beat effectively.

Crude oil is a complex mixture of chemicals, some of which are known to be toxic to marine animals. Past research has focused in particular on “polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons” (PAHs), which can also be found in coal tar, creosote, air pollution and stormwater runoff from land. In the aftermath of an oil spill, PAHs can persist for many years in marine habitats and cause a variety of adverse environmental effects.

The researchers report that oil interferes with cardiac cell excitability, contraction and relaxation – vital processes for normal beat-to-beat contraction and pacing of the heart. Their tests revealed that very low concentrations of crude oil disrupt the specialized ion channel pores – where molecules flow in and out of the heart cells – that control heart rate and contraction in the cardiac muscle cell.

This cyclical signaling pathway in cells throughout the heart is what propels blood out of the pump on every beat. The protein components of the signaling pathway are highly conserved in the hearts of most animals, including humans.

The researchers found that oil blocks the potassium channels distributed in heart cell membranes, increasing the time to restart the heart on every beat. This prolongs the normal cardiac action potential, and ultimately slows the heartbeat. The potassium ion channel impacted in the tuna is responsible for restarting the heart muscle cell contraction cycle after every beat, and is highly conserved throughout vertebrates, raising the possibility that animals as diverse as tuna, turtles and dolphins might be affected similarly by crude oil exposure. Oil also resulted in arrhythmias in some ventricular cells.

“The ability of a heart cell to beat,” explained Barbara Block, a professor of marine sciences at Stanford, “depends on its capacity to move essential ions like potassium and calcium into and out of the cells quickly. This dynamic process, which is common to all vertebrates, is called ‘excitation-contraction coupling.’ We have discovered that crude oil interferes with this vital signaling process essential for our heart cells to function properly.”

“We’ve known from NOAA research over the past two decades that crude oil is toxic to the developing hearts of fish embryos and larvae, but haven’t understood precisely why,” said coauthor Nat Scholz, leader of the Ecotoxicology Program at NOAA’s Northwest Fisheries Science Center in Seattle. “These new findings more clearly define petroleum-derived chemical threats to fish and other species in coastal and ocean habitats, with implications that extend beyond oil spills to other sources of pollution such as land-based urban stormwater runoff.”

The new study also calls attention to a previously underappreciated risk to wildlife and humans, particularly from exposure to cardioactive PAHs that also exist at relatively enriched levels in air pollution.

“When we see these kinds of acute effects at the cardiac cell level,” Block said, “it is not surprising that chronic exposure to oil from spills such as the Deepwater Horizon can lead to long-term problems in fish hearts, as our NOAA colleagues have observed in studies of larval fish development.”

“The protein ion channels we observe in the tuna heart cells are similar to what we would find in any vertebrate heart and provide evidence as to how petroleum products may be negatively impacting cardiac function in a wide variety of animals. This raises the possibility that exposure to environmental PAHs in many animals – including humans – could lead to cardiac arrhythmias and bradycardia, or slowing of the heart.”

The Deepwater Horizon disaster released over 4 million barrels of crude oil during the peak spawning time for the Atlantic bluefin tuna in the spring of 2010. Electronic tagging and fisheries catch data indicate that Atlantic bluefin spawn in the area where the Deepwater Horizon drilling rig collapsed, raising the possibility that eggs and larvae, which float near the surface waters, were exposed to oil.<--pagebreak->The spill occurred in the major spawning ground of the western Atlantic population of bluefin tuna in the Gulf of Mexico. The most recent stock assessment, conducted in 2012, estimated the spawning population to be at only 36 percent of the 1970 baseline population. Additionally, many other pelagic fishes were also likely to have spawned in oiled habitats, including yellowfin tuna, blue marlin and swordfish.

NOAA scientists have previously shown that exposure to crude oil-derived PAHs disrupts cardiac function and impairs development in larval fishes. Numerous studies, particularly in the aftermath of the Exxon Valdez spill in 1989, have described a syndrome of embryonic heart failure, bradycardia, arrhythmias and edema in exposed fish embryos. The potential for deleterious effects on young fish in the northern Gulf of Mexico is still being investigated in the aftermath of the Deepwater Horizon spill. In the present study, the NOAA team partnered with Stanford researchers to determine why oil specifically impacts heart cells.
Taking advantage of captive populations of bluefin and yellowfin tunas at the Tuna Research and Conservation Center (a collaborative facility operated by Stanford and the Monterey Bay Aquarium), the research team was able to directly observe the effects of crude oil samples collected from the Gulf of Mexico on living fish heart cells.

Block and her team bathed isolated cardiac cells from the tuna in low dose crude oil concentrations similar to what fish in early life stages may have encountered in the surface waters where they were spawned after the April 2010 oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico.

They measured the heart cells’ response using a combination of sophisticated electro-physiological techniques – including “patch clamping” and “confocal microscopy” – to record how ions flowed into and out of the heart cells, and to identify the specific proteins in the excitation-contraction pathway that were affected by crude oil chemical components.

“We can examine the function of healthy heart cells in vitro and actually measure in the microscope how they respond to the presence of crude oil in real time,” said Fabien Brette, a research associate in Block’s lab and lead author on the study.

“The normal sequence and synchronous contraction of the heart requires rapid activation in a coordinated way of the heart cells,” Block said. “Like detectives, we dissected this process using laboratory physiological techniques to ask where oil was impacting this vital mechanism.”

The authors presented the work at the 2014 annual meeting of the American Association for the Advancement of Science in Chicago.

The research was funded by NOAA, Stanford University and the Monterey Bay Aquarium Foundation.

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