Catching Southern Bluefin Tuna

Catching southern bluefin tuna off the Coromandel Peninsula in New Zealand...

It was mid-July and the southern bluefin tuna had been running past Waihau Bay for some time, however, a combination of work commitments and unstable weather systems had prevented me from getting out and giving it a nudge. My mate Eric Wong was in the same boat. After a quick chat in the office on Monday morning it was decided that when the next chance presented itself, we would just have to make it happen. And, as luck would have it, not a day later a one-day weather window appeared mid-week. It even aligned with the new moon which can be favourable for tuna. Eric was in agreement – we were going!

After a brief discussion, we concluded that Waihau Bay was off the cards – at this point in time, it was simply too much effort considering we were both required back at work on Thursday. This left Whakat?ne or Whangamata. With no recent intel for either area, we were just going to have to make a judgement call. The fish had to migrate up the coast at some stage, and the timing seemed plausible. The forecast for Whangamata looked better than Whakat?ne, the SST chart looked pretty decent, and the tow was shorter which would make for an easier trip. Eric made an executive decision: we were going out of Whangamata. Revisiting the SST charts in the evening we noted down the GPS coordinates for some likely-looking areas, set our alarms for 1.45 am, and headed off to try to get a couple hours of shut-eye.

Sleep was sorely lacking, but the anticipation was high, and by 2.30am we were on our way to Whangamata. Making good time we arrived at the ramp prior to 5.45am. We jumped out of the truck to stretch our legs and double-checked the forecast. There had been no change overnight. A light breeze in the morning through to midday, predicted to drop off to variables by mid-afternoon. It should be relatively comfortable, albeit a cold start. With that confirmed we quickly sorted the riggers, reorganised everything, and launched the boat. We navigated our way out through the harbour and across the bar, before entering the GPS coordinates we had noted down the night before. Eric adjusted our heading and set a course to the nearest mark. The next hour was spent covering as much ground as we could before sunrise.

As we approached the contour line at the 400m mark, Eric suddenly shouted. Something sizable had broached the surface right in front of the boat.

“Tuna?” I asked.

We scanned the horizon closely, searching to verify what we had just seen. Moments later we were joined by a pod of dolphins. It was decision time – we were still some distance from our destination, but the area we were in felt likely. After a short debate, we made the call to slow down and set the gear. Even if nothing happened in close it wouldn’t take us long to work our way out to where we wanted to be. Eric set the spread and organised the deck, while I held our bearing at 6.5 knots. Aside from the dolphins, we weren’t marking much sign, and the VHF had been quiet – perhaps there wasn’t going to be a morning bite. Having talked to a mate that caught fish off Lottin Point the day before, we wanted to make sure we were in the right area by 10 am so changed course for the Alderman knolls.

Upon approach it became clear that a few others had the same idea – we could see at least a dozen vessels working the knoll. Our proposed bite time was quickly arriving, and we joined them with building anticipation. Sure enough, we didn’t have to wait long. The calls of hooked-up started coming through on the VHF providing some welcome reassurance that we were fishing in the right area. Observing the boats around us and watching the sounder, we closed in on the area we wanted to work. We soon started marking fish, some of the boats around us had already hooked up, excitement was building, and it was only a matter of time before it would be our turn.

Multiple passes later we were left dismayed. Was our bearing wrong? Was the speed correct? Did we need to change lures? We started second-guessing ourselves. Desperately hopeful, we looped around for yet another pass. And this time we weren’t disappointed. Shortly after approaching, we were greeted by that hallowed sound of the clicker screaming as the top-shot began dumping off one of the reels. We were on! A few fleeting moments passed, and relief began to set in as the line stayed tight. We continued forward, hoping the other lures might get hit as well. Seconds later and the riggers popped, clickers singing in unison, and we were on a quadruple hook-up – excitement erupted!

Hurriedly clearing the remaining gear, we lifted a rigger, and put a call through on the VHF. Eric clipped in, while I grabbed a rod without a harness, and we settled down into the fight. One fish fell off an unmanned rod, but with the boat idling forwards we kept tension on the third fish. We focused on dealing with the two at hand while managing the odd line that got crossed in the process. It soon became apparent that the fish Eric was on was going to be stubborn, while I had started to make steady progress in regaining the top-shot.

Before long we had the first fish at the back of the boat. Eric promptly got a tidy gaff shot, and we dragged it on board – 1/3. Relief. This made things much simpler, Eric was able to focus on the latter half of his fight, while I got to work on the third fish and managed the boat. A few minutes later and Eric’s fish started doing circles below us, showing some resistance right to the end. With the leader in hand, it was only moments until the gaff hit home a second time – 2/3. Success. At this point we had a fish each, the deck was a bloody mess, and we were stoked. Not long after and the third fish was promptly caught and released – 3/3. Cue celebrations!

Quickly tidying the deck, we took a few photos of the fish to commemorate a successful fishing mission before, to Eric’s dismay, bleeding the fish in his boat and promptly getting them on ice in the cooler bag. Effectively bleeding tuna and cooling them down is essential to maintain eating quality, and we were determined to make the most of the fish we had kept. With that sorted, Eric began to clean the rest of the boat as best he could, while I quietly pointed us in a homeward direction. It was barely midday, and we spent the next 5 minutes driving over sign, but we were completely content. We had done what we had come to do. Leaving now would make the trip back, and cleaning the fish, all that much more manageable. Besides, we had southern bluefin tuna sashimi to look forward to!

September 2023 - Ben Starns
New Zealand Fishing News Magazine.
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