Two hours in, we were fighting nothing but current and off-colored water and, on top of that, the wind kicked up making the seas “border line” for kayaking.  We headed further south-southwest and at thirty-nine miles out we found a rip that went for miles. Tidy bowl blue water bumped into the off- colored murk and I notice a big smile pasted to Capt. Daryl’s face. I had a strong feeling it was time to leave the world of the Second Chance and launch the yak.  Seas had calmed so I put on my lifejacket and headed down the rip, slowly trolling a cut piece of poggie. The deckhand, Ben Williams, cut bait and started a chum line.  Bonito soon appeared and it wasn’t long before the fight was on.  A big bonito grabbed my bait and made a spastic, frenzied run setting up a sleigh ride that was slightly different from that of a redfish. In deep water, this fish angled down and I had to keep the line over the bow and avoid applying too much leverage except when I was directly in tow with the fish off my bow.  The bonito was an excellent fight and what a beautiful sight to land one in a kayak in all that blue water.

    We boated several Bonito and decided it was time to look around for some different action. Down the rip we went, eyes peeled for top water action.  It wasn’t long before we spotted what appeared to be Spanish mackerel being driven to the top by predators.  The Second Chance eased in to a position up current and we again began to chum.  We spooled off line and let it drift back in the chum. The high vis line began to tighten and we hooked up what would soon prove to be a nice Black fin tuna. After the guys on the boat put several tuna on ice we began to catch four and five foot Black tip sharks.

     After a bit of repositioning Daryl asked if I was ready to try my hand in the yak again.  I think he used the terms “stupid” and “crazy” a few times to describe my endeavor.  But I have to tell you that paddling around in all that water with no land in sight and the notion that big fish could blow you out the water like a National Geographic seal does make it a bit more stimulating, especially after cutting loose a few nice sharks.

     This time when I took the rod and hopped in the yak, things were different. I managed to hook the strongest fish of my life and I wasn’t sure if I could handle him.  The fish peeled line off the big gold reel and all I could do was watch and wonder as the kayak followed the big pelagic fish.  Thoughts of being dumped were replaced by thoughts of “I can do this.”  These thoughts were soon replaced by “I don’t even think this fish knows he’s hooked.” After about ten minutes, it became clear that the tuna was in control as he headed for Cuba with me in tow. Laughter from the mothership was comforting and after a battle of about forty minutes the hook came loose and my ride ended. The fish had covered about six miles of open water.  

 We decided to make one more pass at the rip before heading home.  We ran parallel to it and stopped up current from the next action.  Birds and bait were tearing up the surface of the water.  We started chumming started and, like before, The Guys on the Boat hooked another big fish.  But, there was no kayak this time – this fish was a monster.  Our half day trip soon started to resemble the “Old Man and the Sea.” For five hours and forty minutes we all took turns fighting the huge yellow fin tuna on the other end of the line,  surrendering the rod the next person in line when our backs finally gave out.  We started calling the fish Tunazilla – it just would not give up!  Over and over again, each time we thought we had him coming to the surface, the reel would start to scream as he stripped all the line that we had worked for an hour to gain on him.   We watched the sun set just before Daryl finally brought the fish to the side of the boat and we put three gaffs in the beast to drag him over the side. Once on board, we couldn’t celebrate quite yet as the fish went crazy, banging his tail with such strength, we wondered if he we would break someone’s foot or put a hole in the boat. We finally got him in the fish box and shared high fives and praise of our hard fought battle.

     It was 9pm before we made it back to Bridgeside Marina, where the catering crew feeding the Entergy linemen were cleaning up.  They swarmed the dock to see our monster tuna.  It weighed in at over 150 pounds.  After the photo session, and scarfing down some leftovers from the crew, we stowed the gear stowed and had the tuna cleaned and on ice by midnight.  It was quite an adventure for what was intended to be a ½ day trip!