We gave ‘em hell anyway. One glimmer of hope in the form of a few big yellowfin breaking on the surface was short lived, and produced zero. Exhausting every last option the final day logged another forty some odd miles in search of what never became. Other than one school of 15-30 pound tuna it was a big fish bust. 

Taking the beat down in stride this group of seasoned anglers knows the score. We took our shot at finding the big fish with eyes wide open. It was a fishing move made with confidence in our ability. The bottom line - they’re not here. It’s as simple as that. This lack of results is not because we missed the Mother Lode, or anything else. This big fish is simply not around this year; at least not yet. 

As always it will change. Seasons come and seasons go; along with the fish. So ends this voyage that fortunately offered so much more than just fishing. It’s what one makes of the adventure in the end. We end in high spirits ready to head her up the line and get back out on the grounds. Today’s photo is a fitting representation of sentiments shared by all. We’re out.