TAKE A CHANCE

摘要

It was an unusual scenario for the end of May. A warm-core eddy had spun out from the Gulf Stream, off the Northeast. Where there is an eddy, there's usually good fishing. The rotating, bathlike water was coming closer, hovering about 100 or so nautical miles offshore-within striking range for our Long Island, New York-based crew, f The sharp temperature difference between the colder shelf water and the eddy created a significant temperature break. It's a sign we look for when fishing for pelagics. § The text messages started: "See the break?" my brother's read. "I did. We're going after it," my buddy Tom responded. Since Tom is the boat's owner, where he goes, we go. f We aimed for the first weekend in June. It was early when compared to our typical tuna-season kickoff, but the water beckoned. After a Northeast winter, it's not too hard to cobble together a crew for the season's first offshore excursion. Our seven-man team ventured out to see what we could find. % After a couple hours-plus at 30 knots, we approached the tip of the Hudson Canyon, the closest one from our South Shore-based inlet. The water was cold. A couple of other boats milled about, but the sounder displayed infinite emptiness stretching down into the abyss. Undeterred, we went with the fortune-favors-the-bold philosophy, pressing farther offshore. ¶ By midmorning, we were around 110 nautical miles from home. That's where it happened: The water jumped up several degrees, so much so that you could feel the difference while standing in the cockpit. Tom called down from the tuna tower that he saw bait balls just below the surface. Big ones. He pointed our Viking 50 Open toward the activity. Passing within feet of the bait balls, our starboard-side rods doubled over. One. Two. Three. We'd found the eddy. And the fish. ¶ In short order, we caught three medium-size bluefm tuna on a combination of circle-hook bait and lures. All were released to fight another day. Asecond pass, and several more tuna came tight. The sound of a screaming reel is a heartbeat to an angler. ¶ One of the boats that had seen us venture into the horizon hailed us on the VHF radio, asking for intel. They were putting up a goose egg back at the tip with a charter on board. Tom called him into our numbers, and that boat's rods soon bent left and right too. ¶ We went 19 for 21 that day, keeping one fish for the table. I guess fortune does favor the bold.