The final round was tainted with a sense of foreboding - from my perspective only. I was lamenting the decision to move back inside recognizing that the cardinal rule of fishing, never leave fish to find fish, was abandoned in my zeal to best what I considered slow fishing. It wasn't good enough. But, when the wind was blowing, the water color was nearly green, the sharks were on a tear, and there was little tuna to be found, what we left two hundred thirty miles behind began to look pretty good. It was a little late for that line of thinking though. This was it. The final full day had arrived. And, by the look of things it was lining up to be a long one.

Needless to say the sinking feeling in my gut was horrible. Tactical mistakes are not easy to swallow; especially when committed in the face of the obvious. Being boxed in by a terrible decision, then living the consequences - enduring the shame, and feeling the pain of all my angler's crushed expectations, was not a position to envy. Not to mention the gravity of the whole thing being exacerbated by the final day stakes. This was the final impression, the last hurrah, the final memory angler's take with them. Oh man, how could this have possibly gone so wrong?

Unfortunately the answer was all too clear. A moment or two of clouded thinking, a leap of faith, and disproportionate optimism added up for a Captain's self inflicted nightmare. And while I was reeling inside under the weight of this trouble my stoic veneer revealed none of it. First, the unfortunate fact is that all of us driving these rigs have endured a share of painful outcomes from fishing decisions that led to disaster. It comes with the territory. Second, and my go to line in such circumstances, is the old saying. "When the going get's tough, the tough double down". Strength in the face of adversity. Shouldering the burden while making the best of it is the only option. Hoping for a miracle goes without saying.

With my personal saga detailed now comes the good part of the story. At about 0900 we began to see little teasers, fleeting indications of good size tuna that would appear and quickly disappear to the point of nearly driving us mad on the bridge. We would see the fish, head toward them, and then see zero sign by the time we arrived. It was maddening. We knew we were seeing fish, but couldn't prove it with results. Then, at 0945, someone hit the switch. They floated. And this time they were ready to eat. Fifty to eighty pound tuna, with a few handfuls bigger, and a few handfuls smaller, got it on. The first stop was a quick warm up. The second lasted over two hours.

They were biter's. For the first hour and a half of our big stop it was anything that hit the water. Every bait, every jig, every surface popper produced. Royal Star veteran Stuart Exall's experience with the big surface "stick bait" summed it up best. On one cast of course he hooked a good tuna. It smoked him straight down and out, struggled for about five minutes, then came off. Five seconds later, as Stuart was retrieving the stick bait from untold depths, another tuna grabbed it, and a new battle began. It came off as well. And another tuna grabbed it. It came off. And another tuna grabbed it. And on, and off, and on, and off until finally the line broke for some unknown reason to end the chain. Five or six different mini battles on one cast made for good action, and better comedy. Stuart and I were laughing heartily counting out loud after the third time.

So passed the day until the fish, and many of anglers as well, threw in the towel in the late afternoon. It was tremendously satisfying, tremendously rewarding, and, in my case, an unspeakable relief. I cracked the first smile from my heart around 1500 hrs. Miraculous saves are the sweetest success. This was the day we have been seeking. All the morning doubt and soul searching, which by the way is normal as the sun rising among all of us out here, was put on hold until next time. We accomplished exactly what we came to do. The present is for celebration. A great day of fishing electrifies the atmosphere like none other. Today was no exception. This victory in particular was hard earned.

Our final morning will find us stationary in the world famous "Lunker Hole" where the opportunity to snag and tag a bona fide behemoth is as good as any in the Revillagigedo island chain. Regardless of tomorrow's outcome our satisfaction and gratitude for today's action can not be toppled. What a day of catching.

Photo today features T'ai and "O" in action during one of our afternoon go around's.

Tim Ekstrom

Photo Here...