Epic Tuna Trip: Jigging for Blackfins on the 230 Rocks. Only Possible in Hatteras

By Jim Field

This past Friday, December 10, we had one of those rare days fishing that is guaranteed to remain vivid in each of our memories for the remainder of our (cognitive) lives. Setting out from home for the long road trip to Hatteras Village; casting off lines at the pier; transiting to the chosen fishing grounds; putting first baits in the water--one has no idea what's going to happen on that particular day. The way it works is that you place a bet to get in the game--carve out time and devote some money to the venture--but with no idea of the expected payout or the odds for or against. Some days the fishing God has no mercy, and relegates the crew to the skunk or slim pickings. On other days--oh thank his Esteemed Holiness!--the fishing God looks kindly on a select group of lowly subjects and grands them a day of unlimited happiness and glory. Importantly, the fishing God requires all subjects (except really, really good charter Captains) to put in many, many days of unrewarded fishing in return for a single day in the sunshine. And let me tell you--on days when you've been handed the "black spot," it's a bleak, miserable, dreary existence. (Note: even a bad day of fishing, of course, is better than a good day in the office, but you get the point.) Conversely, when you're finally handed a "golden pass" on an outing, it's absolutely grand, and fishing becomes elevated to an unmatchable experience to cherish and take with you forever. And we had just this kind of special day on the water, as shown by the photos below.

We departed Teach's marina, after fueling the boat, at around 7:00 am, and set course, once clear of the inlet, for the 200 (Loran) line. The plan was to troll for tuna--blackfin and/or yellowfin and/or bluefin--heading NE up the 50-100 fathom lines. The forecast called for 2-4 foot seas and we encountered every bit of this. On the transit out (about 17 miles), we heard/monitored radio traffic from two boats already fishing in the same location: the Big Tahuna (Captain Scott)and Native Son (Captain DM). We learned that they were on the tuna and up around the 230 Rocks. Upon arrival at the 200 line, we shut down and trolled North without any bites. Closing the other two boats, we observed that they were vertical jigging--and in fact had not even deployed their outriggers. We shifted strategies, came off the troll, and committed to the vertical jig. Within an hour we landed 4 nice blackfins. So a good day already without too much work.

Credit here goes to Dan, once again, for finding the fish--his particular specialty. He figured out how to locate pods of tuna on the fishfinder, and drove the boat on top of them, backing the boat down while we plunged our lures into the water, placing them at various depths where we identified the fish to be on the scanner.

In this Phase 1 of fishing this day on the 230 Rocks, the seas were a page from National Geographic--birds working everywhere, porpoises circling, tunas shoaling, mackeral doing 360 degree flips out of the water. The water depth was between 280-295feet; the water color went from deep blue to green; and incredibly, the water temperature was 63 degrees--by our experience, what we presumed was far too cold to find tuna in. (Big point of learning for us.) After some time, a large rain front blew through after we had the 4 tuna onboard and, with its passage, the sea became a virtual desert--nothing around. Literally, everything disappeared. Being the persistent lads that we are, we kept searching a 2x2 mile area, and by 12:00 pm we had located the blackfins again.

In Phase II, gray clouds gave way to sun, the air warmed up so that we stripped down to shirts alone, and the water was covered with fish oil slicks in every direction. We then proceeded to catch another 12 tuna, bringing our total to 16. Had we more time, we could have caught double the number--it was limitless fishing: no restrictions on blackfins, lots of them, and perfect fishing conditions.

We picked up around 2:45 pm and motored home, pulling into the slip with a comfortable cushion on dusk. As the sun worked its way closer to the horizon, the air temperature dropped steadily. Nothing like cleaning boats in cold weather! We then packed the vehicles and drove home, arriving safely around 1:00 am.

The general consensus--at least between Dan and I--is that this was perhaps one of the best tuna trips we've taken together, vertical jigging being a fantastic fishing method and experience, far superior to trolling and chunking, given that its all up to the fisherman in question in bringing the fish onboard: dropping the lure, one's jigging technique to attract the fish, and then ability to bring it alongside.

We may never duplicate the day that we had. Then again, we've lived it and put it in the bank. So we now get to formally "check off" on our list of fishing to-do's jigging for blackfins on the 230 Rocks. Notably, we had first learned about the Big Tahuna doing this 3 winters ago--and we were energized and mesmerized by the idea of doing it and mastering it ourselves. Well, consider it done.

Sunrise, Friday morning, Teach's Lair Marina

Fueling up the Sea Ya Bea, breaking out the gear


Dan on the hunt--locating pods of blackfin tuna


Bob works on a rig, framed by Mother Nature

Bob and a beautiful blackfin

Captain Jim contributes to the cause


Results of large shark eating blackfin we were reeling alongside the boat. Chomp!

Dan hoists one of his many catches

Jon takes a breather from the action

Dan shows off the packed coffin cooler

The results of the day displayed on the pier


Jim and Dan and a beautiful setting

Doing surgery on a blackfin

Divide the lot by four, please