There’s a new crop of artificial lures out there that are turning heads in the fishing community.
The giant flare was as impressive audibly as it was in a visual sense, giving off a dull roar.
We had picked it up hours ago as the sun sank en route to one of the many structures in Green Canyon, and now we were upon it, feeling pretty insignificant even though our vessel was a 94-foot luxury sportfisher.
Dozens of fat yellowfin tuna found the structure and its light impressive as well, giving chase to terrified flying fish also drawn to the light.
The problem was that the fish weren’t concentrated on any given spot. Fish would pop up in about a half-mile-square area, playing a frustrating game of cat-and-mouse, especially for Capt. Buddy Hocks, skipper of the Finatic.
We finally decided upon a strategy of choosing a spot just inside the light and letting the fish come to us.
Soon, the gang of anglers at the bow casting poppers was having some action. I snapped a few action shots while Scott Seaner, one of eight licensed captains aboard the vessel, muscled a 40-pound yellowfin on the heavy spinning rod, and carefully made his way into the cockpit when chaos erupted 60 feet off the port stern. Three or four yellowfins boiled and slashed at unseen baitfish, throwing white-foamed saltwater 10 feet in the air and creating holes in the Gulf.
Some lessons in fishing really hit home in a difficult way.
I, like many anglers, have occasionally listened to experts in the reel business who preach the virtues of loosening the drags of reels when not in use, thus prolonging their life. And, of course, it seems that every time I do this, I neglect to tighten them on the next fishing trip.
This isn’t so bad when the first cast of the day connects — and usually very quickly disconnects — with a speckled trout, redfish or bass, the line frustratingly slipping from the reel as the rod refuses to load.
It’s much worse after an extended period of casting when you’re left wondering if another strike is out there.
As I set down the camera, I had no idea that I was about to learn about a much worse set of circumstances involving the practice of drag preservation.
I quickly picked up the nearest spinning rod, which happened to have a large Tsunami swimbait attached. I recalled Capt. Sonny Schindler’s stamp of approval on the bait earlier.
Capt. Scott Avanzino had made a snide remark about the rig, but Schindler waved it off with a sneer of his own.
“Just work it fast. It’ll catch fish and you can cast that thing a mile,” said Schindler.
He was right. A gentle lob put the lure a few yards past the melee, where I began a quick, erratic retrieve lasting about two seconds.
A tuna slammed it going the other way, and was instantly heading toward the bottom at a 45-degree angle many thousands of feet below. Line was sizzling off the reel while Capt. Chris Dinwiddie helped me with a fighting belt when the fish slowed momentarily and then blazed off again.
“That fish is moving. Let’s tighten down on the drag a little bit,” said Dinwiddie.
Dinwiddie twisted the front drag to the right on the Penn reel. And twisted. And twisted and twisted until it finally became tight. The fish slowed and all of a sudden it became clear what had happened. Safe mode had struck again, only this time, the fish was still attached, still very fresh and way, way down there.
I shrugged it off and began the long process of gaining back the line. Only the fish instantly took back the line gained with another short, powerful burst. I reeled down as far as possible and leaned into the fish and … accomplished absolutely nothing.
Depression suddenly overcame me, realizing potentially how long this was going to take. All around me poppers were being blasted, gaffs were being stuck and 30- to 60-pound yellowfins, beautifully matched to the tackle, were being bled, gutted and iced down in the Finatic’s enormous hold.
But, this story does have a happy ending. A few minutes into the sure-to-be-exhausting and likely fruitless fight, the 65-pound braid broke near the leader. And I can scarcely remember being so relieved.
Swimbaits, soft plastics with lead imbedded into the lure, have caught on in a big way in Louisiana, catching a wide variety of species with an even wider variety of sizes. Their life-like shape and holographic colors have proven to be effective for inshore species, though the larger 4-inch models tend to weigh more than most are comfortable with.
That weight, however, is just right for offshore use, providing long-distance casting and the ability to sink past swift currents.
Swimbaits were effective for tuna on the Midnight Lump this season, though the hooks are not the most ideal for heavy pelagic use.
“You can do well on the smaller tuna, but to be honest, they’re not really built for the bigger yellowfin,” said Bill Raper of Calcutta Baits, makers of one of the newer varieties. Calcutta is an entity of Big Rock Sports, a fishing gear distributor in Morehead City, N.C.
Like most other swimbaits, the Calcutta line has a variety of attractive color schemes, but it’s the unique twist on the spade tail that sets it apart from the rest.
“We added sort of an appendage to the tail, which makes it possible to really rip the bait and keep it running true,” said Raper.
Since they’re so new in the realm of bluewater fishing, no one is certain what colors or actions are best. One can certainly make an educated guess that similar shades to those of poppers and skirted trolling baits will work well.
Fast retrieves, the preferred method for attracting pelagics such as tuna, are most productive, though dropping the fast sinkers near offshore structure similar to the way one drops a diamond jig or any one of the dozens of heavy “irons” is sure to draw strikes from hungry blackfin tuna.
Flying fish, as anyone who’s been offshore can attest, are a staple of pelagic diets, often putting on spectacular shows as they take to the air and glide along the surface. The show often continues upon re-entry as a sharp-eyed tuna pounces with the precision of a laser-guided missile.
Live flying fish are a relative rarity, but luckily for offshore enthusiasts, there are now incredibly productive artificial flying fish on the market.
Carolina Lures’ Yummee Flying Fish has made a splash the past several years with its entry, which can be cast, trolled or simply drifted into the light during overnight trips. Realistic wings and eyes make them hard to resist for yellowfins and even overzealous blackfins.
The Yummees have a problem, though. The wings are actually separate pieces that are glued to the solid body. That doesn’t hinder effectiveness, but it does present durability issues in the face of repeated blows by rambunctious tuna.
Enter Covington-based Frenzy Big Game Tackle, a partnership of Venice charter captain Bill Delabar and Delta Airlines pilot Scott Seaner.
Like many, they were tired of having the lures break apart, so they did something about it: They made their own, and introduced the Ballistic Flying Fish to the market in late January.
“The thing we knew we had to have was a one-piece design,” said Delabar. “You just can’t have a bait like this fall apart out there. And, of course, you’ve got to have the wings on it for it to be effective.
“We also wanted a bait that can be versatile. Because it’s so tough, you don’t have to worry about it falling apart when you troll it or the times when the fish want it to be retrieved quickly.
“The worst problem you can have when you’re out there is to run out of baits that work correctly, especially when you’ve got fish eating flying fish all over.”
Finding a factory able to produce the bait was a long process, but ultimately successful.
Additionally, the line includes a glow-in-the-dark version, which Seaner says is dynamite for night fishing. Night action also includes techniques that are noticeably out of place in the bluewater game.
“You don’t even have to work it sometimes,” said Seaner. “Just let it drift back into the light and let the fish find it. The flying fish actually do just that. They’re attracted by the light and just sit there.”
Just the opposite is the way many anglers, including yours truly, work poppers in the deep blue — by simply casting the lure as far as the weight of it allows and reeling as rapidly as possible, letting the swells do the popping for them. This is hardly the only way to do it, but I can assure you, it’s the easiest on the elbows and shoulders.
One can make a strong argument that poppers are the most exciting way to fish for tuna, bringing the sight-fishing and explosive topwater strikes to the game. Companies such as Yozuri, with its popular Hydro-Tiger line, have responded with a myriad of different sizes, shapes and colors.
Again, as with many situations, there is a problem with this kind of fishing. Even the slightest breeze can retard a typical popper, even though they are usually 2 to 3 ounces in weight and are flung with thin braided line, from achieving the distance needed to reach breaking fish.
A couple of years ago, this issue presented itself on a trip with Capt. Al Walker and Delabar. The wind had picked up steadily on the way to the Mars platform, and was whistling along at 15 knots when we finally reached the TLP.
The tuna, of course, didn’t mind the chop a bit, and were busily feeding on the surface. A school erupted 40 or 50 yards upwind soon after our arrival, an insurmountable distance for most, especially into the wind.
But Delabar had a skinny, dense popper with huge eyes built into the bait tied on. The first cast impressively punched through the wind and reached the fish, hooking up almost instantly.
The bait, he said at the time, was made in South Africa by a company that is now out of business. Seaner and Delabar took the mold and, in a process even more arduous than either could have possibly imagined, began producing the baits, which they’ve renamed the Angry Popper.
“I don’t know how many times I had given up on making that bait, but we finally found a place that could handle it,” said Seaner. “The main problem was the cold-cast acrylic process. The weak spot with most poppers is the wire in the middle connecting everything. We knew we wanted a stainless-steel centerpiece to make it durable enough to handle whatever fish is out there.
“The problem with the traditional way of making the poppers is that they use heat. Heat and the kinds of materials to make it reflective — the mylar film, the piece of stainless steel, the eyes — don’t mix. So we had to find somewhere to hand-pour them. That is what has taken so long.
“The finished product is well worth it. It weighs over 4 ounces and is really aerodynamic. You’ve got some bigger baits out there like the Trevally Poppers that have as much weight, but they still catch a lot of wind.
“We also made it with good hooks and split rings so that the first thing you do with it out of the box is fish instead of replacing the hardware.”
The bait is also a sinker, dropping at a rate of around 1 ½ to 2 feet per second. Seaner has found that it’s a very good lure for exploring many levels of the water column, having caught blackfin at 50 feet, especially on the glow-in-the-dark color.
“Even though it’s sinking at a pretty slow rate — it kind of waddles down — the fish still seem to hit it on the fall just like a diamond jig,” he said.