Friday, August 27, 2010

Little Tunny, or False Albacore: A Fact Sheet. Getting to Know Our Catch. A New Prized Game Fish! (?) Some Good North Carolina Data


By Jim Field

I am still way too ignorant about the fish types in the Atlantic Ocean--without talking about fish species across the globe. This is sheer laziness. You would think that having caught a fish, one would take time to read about it--get to know it--for a variety of reasons. First, to know how to definitively identify it next time round. Second, to learn what its presence may mean about the immediate ocean environment you're in, e.g., what other fish may or may not "hang" with it, and the conditions that attract it. Finally, to simply honor the fish and appreciate it for what it is--honor it by acknowledging it and its inherent beauty and role in the ecosystem. But alas, I don't do this, and therefore am, by inference, an indifferent fisherman, which I don't want to be: I want to be knowledgeable! So from here forward I pledge to write posts about what we have and will catch in the future. I will be curious. I will learn. I will investigate. Promise.

Which takes us to today's post. I was refining this blog's "Fish Caught/Released on the Sea Ya Bea" list (see right-hand column all the way down), and I didn't know where to place the false albacore. So I looked it up. Here's what I dug up.

From Wikipedia
The Little Tunny is the most common tuna in the Atlantic. It is found in warm temperate and tropical waters of the Atlantic and the Mediterranean. Occurring in large schools, and weighing up to 35 pounds, it is the smallest member of the tuna Scombridae family. Commonly called "false albacore" or "albie", it resembles the Atlantic bonito, skipjack tuna and species of mackerel. It is best identified by the dark spots appearing between its pectoral and ventral fins and "worm-like" markings on its back. Originally thought of as a trash fish because its food value is so poor it is considered inedible, it is now sought after as a sport fish due to its line stripping 40 mph runs when hooked. Commercially, the fish is used as bait for sharks and marlin.

From www.flyfishinsalt.com
Fish Facts: False Albacore
For whatever reason, false albacore are among the most misidentified fish in the ocean. Also commonly called little tunny, they are frequently mistaken for bonito, albacore, tinker mackerel or other small tunas. No matter what you call them, the stamina these fish display can prove downright brutal. It has been said that it's not the size of the dog in the fight that counts, it's the size of the fight in the dog. Nothing could better describe the albie.

False albacore have risen from the ignoble status of trash fish to that of prized game fish within a few short years, and now draw anglers from around the world to test their tackle. One thing is for sure: The increase in notoriety has nothing to do with the albie's popularity as a food fish - they are far from palatable, by most accounts. The draw comes from the fight, and perhaps the fun of targeting them primarily by sight fishing.

"If albies are around and feeding, you know it," says Capt. Paul Dixon, a guide who splits his time between Montauk and Harker's Island, North Carolina. "Just watch for birds, or you'll see and hear them shredding bait on the surface," he says. Ideal fishing conditions usually include water temperatures in the 60s and plenty of bait with moving water. Albacore enthusiast Tom Earnhardt suggests letting the fish come to you once you find them. "The fish move pretty fast, and you can put them down if you 'run and gun' it. Ease around a school at idle and try not to vary the pitch of the motor too much," he suggests.

Earnhardt and Dixon agree that the fly should be cast into the bait and kept there as long as possible to increase the odds of hooking up. "There is no need for long casts and a fast two-hand retrieve if the fish are crashing on bait," says Earnhardt. "Those types of retrieves work best when you know the fish are there, but they are staying down or only coming up occasionally." They also agree that tides can prove important for false albacore. Although the fish don't seem as fussy about moving water as striped bass can be, most anglers prefer to find some kind of current, whether the tide is falling or rising.

When the fish don't show themselves, anglers resort to chumming or following behind the shrimp trawlers. "In the Keys, that's standard procedure for finding them," says Jeffrey Cardenas, a well-known Key West guide and fly shop owner. "On the Atlantic side they tend to be the redheaded stepchild while we fish for blackfin tuna. On either side, though, we have to chum them up or fish behind the shrimpers to find them. In fact it's rare that we come across a surface school like they do up north."

Albies tend to be fairly seasonal because they are migratory, following the bait and the temperature of the water. But Earnhardt believes that North Carolina has a resident population of larger albies that spends most of the cooler months in the warm waters of the Gulf Stream and then comes inshore when the bait arrives. "I refer to the smaller 8- to 10-pounders as 'Yankee fish' - the ones that come down from up north," he says. This theory would explain why North Carolina fish tend to be caught year round and are among the largest to be found.

The albie season usually begins with the first real cold front of the season. In New England, that can come in September, while in North Carolina October is the more likely month. In the Keys it might not occur until November.

In North Carolina, the best fishing occurs in October and November, usually peaking about the first week of November. Although all inlets along the Outer Banks have good false albacore populations, Earnhardt recommends Beaufort for consistently finding fish. All the inlets concentrate baitfish coming out of North Carolina's sounds - Pamlico, Albemarle and Core - much like funnels. When the tides start changing and the rips build, the bait begins to congregate and the albies show up.

Most hard-core albie fishermen prefer to use small flies. "I think the ideal size is a fly tied on a No. 2 hook, but sometimes, especially early in the season, I'll tie flies as small as No. 8s or even No. 10s," says Earnhardt. "Generally the flies are small, an inch to an inch and a half long, and tied very sparse." He recommends flies tied with tan or rust-colored materials with some flash, especially when the bay anchovies show up off North Carolina. If he were limited to three fly styles, Earnhardt would recommend Surf Candy, Clousers and Coneheads, but he is quick to add the Crease Fly, especially when fishing behind shrimpers. Both Earnhardt and Dixon suggest that the most important thing is to match the hatch in size and color. If fishing in a chum slick or behind a shrimp trawl, pattern and size don't matter as much. "It seems like they'll hit anything under those conditions," says Cardenas.

For gear, Dixon and Earnhardt strongly recommend intermediate lines, which allow the angler to come tight to the fly more quickly than with sinking lines and give him more control casting than floating ones. Reels with good drags are crucial and a 9-weight is minimal, especially later in the season. Albies tend not to be too line shy, so long leaders are not usually necessary. Earnhardt recommends 9-footers with between 12- and 16-pound tippets.

Lastly, both New England and North Carolina offer excellent opportunities to wade-fish for albies. "Just look for the drop-offs and the bait. Places like Buoy #4 at Cape Lookout are great for wading," says Earnhardt. In addition, several local shops offer ferry service for wade anglers for a small fee.



A nice artist representation. Best identified by black "squigley" lines on back that have rainbow-like hue

Thursday, August 26, 2010

Trip to the Rockpile and Back: A Half Day of Good Fishing. Another Species Caught


By Jim Field

During our Hatteras vacation, on Saturday, August 7 to be exact, the last day of Dan's vacation in Hatteras, Dan and I headed out for a morning of fishing, the requirement being that we make it back to the dock (i.e., our families) by noon. We met at the boat at 6:00 am, and made the decision that Andrew should stay in bed, and not accompany us, because the seas were likely to be rough. The Diamond Shoals buoy was reporting (realtime) 4 foot seas at 4 seconds apart, which does not suggest an easy day. Conversely, the forecast for the day was far rosier, promising 2-4 foot waves 11 seconds apart--a walk in the park. Given this discordance, we chose the careful route to not expose Andrew to the real possibility of a difficult half day. (Alas, for Andrew, many more fishing days ahead for this young man.)

After throwing off the ropes and transiting to Hatteras Inlet, we encountered huge incoming swells, one of which brought most of the Sea Ya Bea out of the water. Along with other charter boats navigating the channel, we reduced speed in order to more easily accommodate the large, closely-grouped swells. Upon clearing the channel buoys, we set course for a point SW of the Rockpile, 20 miles distant, and set engine RPMs to make roughly 19 knots SOG. Notably--and fortunately--Dan went below into the cabin to better secure things and found that 3 pound lead weights had been jettisoned from their container when we "caught air," and were rolling around freely--like miniature loose cannons--to wreak havoc on the woodwork. Caught in time, we found no damage done.

The conditions got better as the morning progressed: the skies going from dark gray to patches of blue sky, the seas flattening out. Winds diminished to 10-15 knots. We shut down near the Rockpile and deployed our baits. Over the course of a few hours--on what turned out to be a relatively slow bite for everyone else--we caught a "very nice" wahoo, had another wahoo bite off perhaps 5 yards beyond the transom, 2 sizable mahi-mahis, and released a barracuda--the first one landed on the Sea Ya Bea (add it to the list). Dan and I were both surprised by the barracuda's canine-like teeth--sizable individual choppers spaced apart from one another.

Reluctantly, we curtailed fishing operations in the middle of a beautiful day in waters with all the right conditions: dark blue color, 82-85 degree temperature, with bait being marked all over the place. In fact, we had come across a weed line that went on for as long as we could see from the tuna tower, which we could have followed and surely harvested mahi all afternoon long. That said, we secured fishing operations and moored around 1:00 pm, with Dan hurrying home to wife and kids, thus successfully pulling off a memorable day of fishing combined with family time on their last full day in the Village. Pretty sweet.


Dan and the wahoo: great photo on a memorable day, with fantastic eating to follow


Profile of a beautiful and menacing barracuda

The teeth on these beasts (not our photo)

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Pigs at the Trough--Over Fishing for the Hell of It. Cynical Tournament Held by "Rude and Witty" Jersey Fishermen Shines Light on the Problem


By Jim Field

A while back (August 14) the NYTimes editorial staff wrote a short piece about a website called "Gargagefish.com," which you can go to by clicking here. (It's really funny, you have to look at it. Go to bottom of this post for a picture from their site that they refer to as the inspiration behind their idea.) The editorial, copied below, summarizes the setup well, so I won't replicate what's been said.

Except....that the word is getting out about over-fishing by everyone: commercial fisherman, charter boats, and private recreational fisherman--each on their own missions to maximize their catch to the detriment of the oceans and common interests. Also, there's shared conversation about the "fish of the month" phenomenon, whereby certain species appear on restaurant menus only to soon disappear after they're harvested into oblivion. Hopefully, people are beginning to listen. As for me (a do-gooder), I have stopped eating fish in restaurants: the stuff is typically old and frozen; they cook it poorly; and the fish being served is endangered (e.g., strippers, sea bass). So I opt for steak/pork/chicken instead--heck, we've got an unlimited supply of this stuff. Crazy, crazy practices going on in the fishing world.

Dan and I were joking, last time out on the blue together, that sea robin someday soon will soon show up on menus. Could be sooner than we think!



Editorial Notebook
The Ugliest Catch
By LAWRENCE DOWNES

The second annual Garbagefish.com fishing tournament is over. Carmen, Joe and Rocco are the first-place winners, respectively, in the three divisions: sea robin, dogfish and skate.

For the unfamiliar: A sea robin is a rusty-colored fish with a skull-helmet of a head, bulging eyeballs, a maw like a wide-mouth jar, winglike fins and whiskery appendages that it uses to prowl the bottom, where it snaps up baited hooks, earning a very short visit to the boat or dock. The visit is short because fishermen take one look and throw it back. A dogfish looks like a toy rubber shark, and is about as appetizing. A skate is a smallish ray. While its wings are good sautéed in brown butter, cleaning and skinning are a chore, and catching one is generally not a prideful moment.

Garbagefish.com, run by some rude and witty New Jersey fishermen, is dedicated to the proposition that all edible fish are created equal — that the way to salvage the dignity of catching sea robins and not striped bass is to pretend you meant to do that. And then to cook, not trash, your catch: Sea robin, ugly up front, is tasty in back, where it’s all meaty, tender tail. Skate you know about. Dogfish, properly prepared, doesn’t have to be disgusting: it’s the fish in fish and chips.

The site also claims to promote ecological balance, arguing that it’s good to catch more of the unregulated uglies, to keep them from scarfing up too many babies of sexier species. “The day they place limits on sea robin,” it says, “is the day you are catching a hell of a lot more fluke.”

More likely, the day they place limits on sea robin is the day they, too, have finally begun the slide to oblivion.

The problem no Web site can solve is the voracity of the oceans’ top predator. Go to fishing bulletin boards and blogs and you will see them, the guys who boast of massacring the stripers and the bluefish and the cod and maxing out their limits on every trip. Or go on one of the party boats that trail a slick of cigarette butts and leave no legal-size fluke behind. Add poachers to the mix, and saltwater recreational fishing can seem like an orgy of waste and depredation.

The worst fate, for a fish, is to be loved or feared — a tuna or a shark. Until humans manage their appetites, the happiest way for other species to be is to be left alone on the bottom, ugly and unloved.



Finally, this picture from their site supposedly gave them the idea for their tournament. I assume they got tired of getting skunked while fishing for "attractive" fish, and so they shifted their focus to less popular, but more abundant "ugly" species.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Andrew in the Surf at Hatteras. What a Way to Spend the Day!

By Jim Field

Well, we're back from summer vacation--three weeks--at Hatteras and catching up at work and home life and getting ready for another school year; and thinking back to time at the beach; and looking forward already to next year when we can do it again. The Hatteras water quality--clear and warm--and surf action--great waves over sand bar--are outstanding and boarding is a favorite thing to do for the kids (Dan included). Here are some photos Diane took of Andrew at play, taken with her Blackberry while standing knee-deep in the water. Pretty cool.





















Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Sand, Sea, and Sky. A Photographic Chronicle of a Day at the Beach

By Jim Field

Sitting on the beach, I was struck by a trio of colors: brown beach, green water, and blue sky, appearing to the eye in that order, as if stacked one on top of the other, from closest to furthest away. I wanted to photograph the pallet to preserve it in my memory, should I ever want to describe the scenes in writing. Aren't they beautiful?












Hurricane Isabel Channel--A Nice View of It...and How Significant the Breach Was

By Jim Field

We've always been mesmerized by photographs of the damage caused by Hurricane Isabel in 2003 to Hatteras Village. In stores and restaurants in Hatteras, one is likely to see a framed personal photograph taken of Isabel in full force--oftentimes showing 5-plus feet of white-capped seawater making its way down main street (Route 12 South). Apparently, three large ocean waves swept across the Village, leaving considerable damage in their wake. Across the sand dunes separating Hatteras Village from Frisco to the North, the ocean breached the dunes and highway completely to create a "channel" that cut off the Village from civilization for a week. The photograph below successfully conveys the size and scope of the ocean's intrusion. The photo is taken looking Southwest, with Frisco off-camera to the right and Hatteras Village straight ahead.


Monday, August 2, 2010

Rainbow at Sea. Just A Piece of One. Always a Beautiful, Unexpected Sight

By Jim Field

Around dinner time tonight a rainbow appeared on the horizon outside our windows. Today we saw the weather change multiple times at sea, starting with clouds in the early morning, then clearing for most of the day, then returning back to gray and white clouds around sunset. The photos fail to capture the intensity of the colors, looking washed out, when to the eye the red and green hues were vivid.






Dan's New Boston Whaler. In Hatteras Water for the First Time


By Jim Field

Dan, Dina, Emma, and Jake Okoniewski arrived in Hatteras Village yesterday, Sunday. We had dinner together--burgers and Mako shark on the grill--to kick off the week together. Today, Monday, was a beautiful day on the beach: winds from the East 10-15 knots and a fairly rough surf, but the water was a beautiful light green and the beach experience was excellent, the breeze keeping things cool.

Later in the afternoon we put Dan's Boston Whaler in the water at Teach's. We took it for a spin, first heading out toward the inlet--scouting out the flounder and spanish mackeral fishing spots--and then turning around, entering Oden's breakwater, and driving the full length of the canal, exiting on the Eastern end and coming back around the wetlands. Andrew and Jake occupied the bow and rode out the waves, chatting together. We tied up the Whaler in the slip next to the Sea Ya Bea. Plan is to take the Whaler out at 6:00 a.m. tomorrow and hit the flounder or drive north through the Sound to fish for gray trout. Should be fun.

On the trailer preparing to back it down


Whaler with charter boats in background


Bringing the boys onboard


On the bow, the boys (Jake left, Andrew right) keeping watch


Passing the Albatross III in the channel outside Oden's


The setup: Dan's Whaler next to the Sea Ya Bea