Andy and I headed offshore, again. We knew the odds were starting
to grow in our favor. This would be our third long paddle journey.
The Dana Point Marina was sitting at 68F. The bait barge was loaded by
4:30am and out of bait by 7am. We skipped the purchased bait and took the
old school approach. Hounded by 1lb bonito, we managed a few greenies
and lots of small spanish out at the headlands.
As we started putting in the miles, the water temps grew and grew. Finally,
5 miles offshore, we sat at 73.9F. Wow!
Early on we were hounded by small makos chumping on our bait. So we thought.
The tuna, Andy soon realized, were short biting our greenies.
Andy suggested we go with the smaller spanish. That was the ticket.
Within a 1/2 mile of a cluster of boats, we knew we were in the zone. Birds, dolphins,
and crystal clear blue water all came to a head. Andy got picked up,
fought the good fight and quickly brought the tuna to his kayak.
That's when the other fight began. His 20-25lb yellowfin didn't like the sight
of his gaff. After 10 minutes of pure battle Andy nailed his first kayak tuna.
Stoked? Beyond belief.
My first hook up ended with my line bit off. My second hook up was a solid fish.
At color, I quickly realized I had him gut hooked. With him circling under the
kayak just out of gaff distance, I didn't want to put the pressure on from
fear of ripping the hook out. I seriously got dizzy
watching him go round and round while patiently inching him closer and closer.
Finally the gaff shot, then the bloody deck. But where's the hook? It simply fell out.
That's not the end of the story. As I'm bleeding the fish, I hear Andy yelling at
me, "Yanni, get your feet out of the water, shark!" I didn't have to even turn
my head, the 10ft hammer head was butting its head against my kayak. How did I know it was 10ft?
My kayak is 12ft, it brushed up along side me. It's head was 3ft wide.
Andy was thinking clearly. He tossed out a few dead baits and we turned our
kayaks into jet skis. One helluva day.
https://youtu.be/MomVNXHpWms