Fish Report for 4-20-2011
Royal Star Fish Report
4-20-2011
Royal Star
As this is a tagging voyage, with all specimens provided to be tagged and released, a general impression that minimizes the significance of the accomplishment to an angler, or leads one to believe that the angler him/herself may not be wholly invested in the outcome of their opportunities, could easily be contrived by one foreign to this method of fishing. Today I was reminded of just how distant this idea is from the truth - though probably not quite as much as Revilla tagging veteran Steve Branscombe.
Fueled by pure adrenaline, heart pumping from a well matched contest with a champion, Steve, and every angler on board watching from the top deck, was invested in the outcome of this battle like none other. The rugged old bull made no bones of his intentions to brutalize his tormentor employing every trick in the book to liberate himself from the lanyard threatening his freedom. By the look of him (the fish that is) he was one of those seasoned residents that has likely been haunting anything edible around Roca Partida for many seasons. As the behemoth switchbacked, rolled, rushed the wheels, and pulled like a demon possessed there wasn't an individual watching that wasn't invested on multiple levels as the battle neared it's conclusion.
On it's side now iridescent gold, blue, yellow, and silver shinning, the mammoth proportions began to take shape as the depth diminished and mingled colors took form as a huge class yellowfin tuna. With no other fish hooked it was all hands - scoop ready, gaffs wielded to gently encircle the base of the tail, Captain Brian Sims standing by for the immediate assist lest the monster throw a curve and mad dash beneath the hull, and this narrator the final link ready to assist in any way necessary to secure a success, equivalent at that moment, to a championship victory in any form.
Three more huge circles to go, two more, one more; every participant, every spectator holding their breath poised on a razor's edge. And then: 'plink', it was all over. That rotten, miserable son of a *%#*&&#^* glided away effortlessly, unaffected - absolutely triumphant in every way. He was a warrior who without question earned his title. As for Steve, and everyone else on Royal Star, we really didn't care anyway right? We were just going to let him go. Who cares if he got away? It's just a tagging trip. Yeah, sure.
Every fiber, to the core, was stung by this affront to our will. The drive to triumph, to achieve, is perhaps even stronger on these amazing sojourns. The magnificence of these spectacular beasts is so vivid, so stark when they are lying on deck alight with color and alive with power - jaw working, eyes shifting, and finlets twitching, that I, and likely every participant in these adventures, have an appreciation for these amazing masters of their environment far beyond what we recognized before the Revillagigedo tagging project. The drive to see them on deck in all their glory, to actually handle and feel such raw magnificence is something difficult to relate. While I may be accused of going off the deep end I submit that there is an element of empathy with the critter when it is lying there vulnerable. To conduct our business, mark it with a tag, then gift the vanquished it's life invokes an emotion far different than when the fish is landed and retained for the larder. I have asserted before that in the act of capturing, tagging, then releasing a tuna there is actually an additional element of satisfaction unattainable otherwise.
I wouldn't go as far as categorizing it in the "free Willy" spectrum, but there is a draw from within once this form of fishing has been experienced. That draw is as compelling on every level, and even one step further, than that which motivates anglers to capture and retain their catch on any other voyage. And both objectives are fine by me. Whether tagging fish for science, or keeping fish to enjoy with friends, co-workers, and family, the drive to achieve is at least equal. One is not better, or more motivational than the other. They are far different, but gratifying and compelling in every respect.
Photo today must feature the valiant vanquished. Steve Branscombe did everything right, had the perfect gear, had a fantastic opportunity, and walked away with an almost. At least 260 - 275, the behemoth lost was so close we could almost taste it. Believe me Steve would have been on cloud nine if he had landed that fish rather than suffer the disappointing outcome that was destined to be. However, to Steve's credit, when he got his wind back, the first thing he said to me was "well, at least now I know where the bar is for this trip".Well said, and handled like a true veteran. Tomorrow is a new day full of potential. We will report accordingly.
Tim Ekstrom
Photo Here...
Fueled by pure adrenaline, heart pumping from a well matched contest with a champion, Steve, and every angler on board watching from the top deck, was invested in the outcome of this battle like none other. The rugged old bull made no bones of his intentions to brutalize his tormentor employing every trick in the book to liberate himself from the lanyard threatening his freedom. By the look of him (the fish that is) he was one of those seasoned residents that has likely been haunting anything edible around Roca Partida for many seasons. As the behemoth switchbacked, rolled, rushed the wheels, and pulled like a demon possessed there wasn't an individual watching that wasn't invested on multiple levels as the battle neared it's conclusion.
On it's side now iridescent gold, blue, yellow, and silver shinning, the mammoth proportions began to take shape as the depth diminished and mingled colors took form as a huge class yellowfin tuna. With no other fish hooked it was all hands - scoop ready, gaffs wielded to gently encircle the base of the tail, Captain Brian Sims standing by for the immediate assist lest the monster throw a curve and mad dash beneath the hull, and this narrator the final link ready to assist in any way necessary to secure a success, equivalent at that moment, to a championship victory in any form.
Three more huge circles to go, two more, one more; every participant, every spectator holding their breath poised on a razor's edge. And then: 'plink', it was all over. That rotten, miserable son of a *%#*&&#^* glided away effortlessly, unaffected - absolutely triumphant in every way. He was a warrior who without question earned his title. As for Steve, and everyone else on Royal Star, we really didn't care anyway right? We were just going to let him go. Who cares if he got away? It's just a tagging trip. Yeah, sure.
Every fiber, to the core, was stung by this affront to our will. The drive to triumph, to achieve, is perhaps even stronger on these amazing sojourns. The magnificence of these spectacular beasts is so vivid, so stark when they are lying on deck alight with color and alive with power - jaw working, eyes shifting, and finlets twitching, that I, and likely every participant in these adventures, have an appreciation for these amazing masters of their environment far beyond what we recognized before the Revillagigedo tagging project. The drive to see them on deck in all their glory, to actually handle and feel such raw magnificence is something difficult to relate. While I may be accused of going off the deep end I submit that there is an element of empathy with the critter when it is lying there vulnerable. To conduct our business, mark it with a tag, then gift the vanquished it's life invokes an emotion far different than when the fish is landed and retained for the larder. I have asserted before that in the act of capturing, tagging, then releasing a tuna there is actually an additional element of satisfaction unattainable otherwise.
I wouldn't go as far as categorizing it in the "free Willy" spectrum, but there is a draw from within once this form of fishing has been experienced. That draw is as compelling on every level, and even one step further, than that which motivates anglers to capture and retain their catch on any other voyage. And both objectives are fine by me. Whether tagging fish for science, or keeping fish to enjoy with friends, co-workers, and family, the drive to achieve is at least equal. One is not better, or more motivational than the other. They are far different, but gratifying and compelling in every respect.
Photo today must feature the valiant vanquished. Steve Branscombe did everything right, had the perfect gear, had a fantastic opportunity, and walked away with an almost. At least 260 - 275, the behemoth lost was so close we could almost taste it. Believe me Steve would have been on cloud nine if he had landed that fish rather than suffer the disappointing outcome that was destined to be. However, to Steve's credit, when he got his wind back, the first thing he said to me was "well, at least now I know where the bar is for this trip".Well said, and handled like a true veteran. Tomorrow is a new day full of potential. We will report accordingly.
Tim Ekstrom
Photo Here...
