With only a half day available before we had to be back at the dock by noon, we decided to make a quick run from Mission Beach and fish the local offshore ridges in search of pelagics. The original plan was simple: skip the bait receiver, troll for yellowfin tuna, and keep our eyes peeled for kelp paddies that might be holding dorado.
The bait situation made the decision easy. The receivers were loaded with anchovies, and with our limited time on the water, we didn't want to spend precious fishing time making bait. Instead, we pointed the bow west and got the trolling gear ready.
Conditions offshore looked downright fishy. The water was a beautiful blue-to-purple color with a surface temperature of 76.1 degrees. If you've spent any time chasing tuna and dorado off San Diego, you know that warm, clean water gets the heart rate up. We were also keeping a lookout for marlin, figuring that temperatures like that might have a few swords wandering through the neighborhood.
Unfortunately, the ocean didn't get the memo.
For most of the morning there was very little life to be found. We covered plenty of water, scanned the horizon constantly, checked paddies when we found them, and watched a dozen or so other boats doing exactly the same thing. Everyone seemed to be searching, but nobody appeared to be stopping for long.
Eventually, we spotted our first real sign of life: a small flock of terns diving frantically on the surface. We pushed the throttles forward and ran toward the birds, hoping they were marking a school of tuna. Of course, by the time we got there, the birds had scattered and whatever was pushing bait had disappeared.
Rather than overthink it, we dumped the trolling gear back into the spread and got back to work.
It turned out to be the right call.
The rods hadn't been in the water long before one got buried and started screaming. After a short but spirited fight, a bright dorado came into view. What appeared at first to be a decent fish turned out to be a really nice-sized hen once we got her close to the boat.
Then came the entertaining part.
Shaun stepped up with the gaff and proceeded to miss... and miss... and miss again. By the fifth swing we were beginning to wonder if the fish was going to earn a pardon and swim away. Finally, he connected solidly and swung the big hen over the rail to a chorus of laughter and relief.
Fish in the box.
We trolled for a few more miles after that, hoping the single dorado was part of a larger body of fish moving through the area, but nothing else materialized. With the clock ticking and obligations back on land waiting, we pointed the boat toward home and headed to the barn.
At the launch ramp we chatted with a couple of Fish and Game personnel who confirmed what we'd been seeing all morning: the local bite had been pretty slow. The interesting news, however, was coming from farther south. Reports were filtering in from the Upper Hidden Bank off Mexico of massive schools of yellowfin tuna moving up the line, along with a handful of wahoo already showing up in catches.
That was all the encouragement we needed.
Even though our trip only produced a single dorado, the conditions offshore and the reports from down south have us optimistic. Warm water, blue-water conditions, yellowfin moving north, and even a few wahoo already in the mix are all signs that this El Niño year could be something special.
One fish isn't much to brag about, but it's a whole lot better than a skunk, and that colorful dorado made the run worthwhile. Now we just need those yellowfin to keep pushing north.
Tight lines.
The bait situation made the decision easy. The receivers were loaded with anchovies, and with our limited time on the water, we didn't want to spend precious fishing time making bait. Instead, we pointed the bow west and got the trolling gear ready.
Conditions offshore looked downright fishy. The water was a beautiful blue-to-purple color with a surface temperature of 76.1 degrees. If you've spent any time chasing tuna and dorado off San Diego, you know that warm, clean water gets the heart rate up. We were also keeping a lookout for marlin, figuring that temperatures like that might have a few swords wandering through the neighborhood.
Unfortunately, the ocean didn't get the memo.
For most of the morning there was very little life to be found. We covered plenty of water, scanned the horizon constantly, checked paddies when we found them, and watched a dozen or so other boats doing exactly the same thing. Everyone seemed to be searching, but nobody appeared to be stopping for long.
Eventually, we spotted our first real sign of life: a small flock of terns diving frantically on the surface. We pushed the throttles forward and ran toward the birds, hoping they were marking a school of tuna. Of course, by the time we got there, the birds had scattered and whatever was pushing bait had disappeared.
Rather than overthink it, we dumped the trolling gear back into the spread and got back to work.
It turned out to be the right call.
The rods hadn't been in the water long before one got buried and started screaming. After a short but spirited fight, a bright dorado came into view. What appeared at first to be a decent fish turned out to be a really nice-sized hen once we got her close to the boat.
Then came the entertaining part.
Shaun stepped up with the gaff and proceeded to miss... and miss... and miss again. By the fifth swing we were beginning to wonder if the fish was going to earn a pardon and swim away. Finally, he connected solidly and swung the big hen over the rail to a chorus of laughter and relief.
Fish in the box.
We trolled for a few more miles after that, hoping the single dorado was part of a larger body of fish moving through the area, but nothing else materialized. With the clock ticking and obligations back on land waiting, we pointed the boat toward home and headed to the barn.
At the launch ramp we chatted with a couple of Fish and Game personnel who confirmed what we'd been seeing all morning: the local bite had been pretty slow. The interesting news, however, was coming from farther south. Reports were filtering in from the Upper Hidden Bank off Mexico of massive schools of yellowfin tuna moving up the line, along with a handful of wahoo already showing up in catches.
That was all the encouragement we needed.
Even though our trip only produced a single dorado, the conditions offshore and the reports from down south have us optimistic. Warm water, blue-water conditions, yellowfin moving north, and even a few wahoo already in the mix are all signs that this El Niño year could be something special.
One fish isn't much to brag about, but it's a whole lot better than a skunk, and that colorful dorado made the run worthwhile. Now we just need those yellowfin to keep pushing north.
Tight lines.
