As a passionate and rather addicted fisherman, ‘FOMO’ is something I (and surely many other keen fishos) regularly suffer from.

The fear of missing out can set in when land-locked due to other commitments on the only calm day for the foreseeable future, or in my most recent case, the best yellowfin bite our local port has experienced for over 12 years!

Our home port is no stranger to yellowfin tuna; in fact, Whakatane has been renowned as the yellowfin capital of New Zealand for some time. However, over the last decade, catches dwindled rapidly to the point where barely any yellowfin graced the weigh station at Whakatane Wharf for many seasons in a row. It looked like the experience of battling these awesome pelagic species had become a thing of the past.

The start of the 2023 summer was full of humid northerlies that belted most areas with record rainfall and 20-plus-degree water. This brought early season gamefish and a run of good-sized yellowfin tuna in numbers that many thought we would never see again.

Knock-off for the year was nearing, and already many lucky anglers had put yellowfin and marlin on the scoreboard. Word spreads fast these days with social media, and my phone was filling with photos of some impressive yellowfin catches – many coming from my backyard. FOMO was setting in, and it was hard not to think about getting out there for a crack.

Weather patterns were eagerly studied ahead of knock-off, and with a nice weather pattern lining up the excitement levels were making it hard to think about anything else. The day before Christmas eve brought variable winds along with huge levels of anticipation as we pointed the bow of our Extreme 545 Sport Fisher towards an area that has been good to us in the past. I only had a morning window to fish due to other commitments, which suited my crew member Spud who also had things to do and places to be at this rather crazy time of the year. Nevertheless, we both knew a short troll would be better than no troll at all.

As daylight broke and the sun began to rise over Mount Hikurangi, the sky filled with life and in the near distance along the 120m line gannets began to appear in numbers and fall from the sky. Below them, dolphins were rounding up anchovies, and things were looking very promising for an early start to the season. As we came into the area where the anchovies were being attacked from above and below, we were faced with a situation so good that it created a problem. There were workups in every direction, and with all of them looking full of potential, we did not know which way to head!

Our theory, in this case, was not to drag our lures through the thick of the workups (which will often break them up and push them down) but rather to work the outer edges of them. We would troll away from the other boats that were all there for the same reason as us and hope to find something patrolling the surface looking for an easy meal separated from the pack.

In the distance, a good mate slowed down his boat, and the crew, on their end-of-year work-do, were all out the back clearing gear as they hooked up. Excitement levels were peaking knowing the yellowfin were here… right here! We marked a few fish on the Raymarine, but they all seemed to be sitting 60-80m down, so we put some marks on the plotter and began working the area hard waiting for them to come up to the surface for another feed. We stuck to the plan, but after another couple hours our half-day pass was up, and with that ‘not today’ feeling, we reeled the lures in and headed for home, knowing we were driving away from a special session.

That afternoon, after cleaning the boat and packing the gear away, I heard stories of other people that were in the area getting fish after we left; now, FOMO well and truly set in. I was offered a seat on a couple of mates’ boats to head out the following day. However, I needed to get some gear ready for a camping trip with the family, so I passed on the offers and, thinking I may have missed my chance, jumped into bed dreaming of big yellow sickles gliding through the balls of bait not far from home.

I awoke at 4.30am and began thinking about missing the chance to experience this run of amazing fish. FOMO had finally got the better of me. “I need to go,” I said to my wife, who was still fast asleep.

“Where,” she said, half asleep.

“To get a yellowfin,” I replied.

After knowing me for over 20 years, she just said, “Ok, I already knew you needed to go,” and rolled back over to sleep.

I ran outside and called a mate, Jason, who was heading out to see if one of his crew could jump on to help if I hooked up by myself, and I packed the boat in record time and headed for the ramp.

On the way down the street, I noticed young Hunter’s Ute parked outside his father’s place on the corner of the street. Hunter, a mad keen fisherman, had been living in Napier working in forestry and must have been back for Christmas. I took a gamble and stuck my head through the only open window in the house, hoping he was in that room.

“Hunter?”

Silence filled the room, and as I slowly started to sneak away like a robber, I was stopped in my quiet footsteps by Hunter coming to with a rather puzzled reply.

“It’s Mat, if you’re keen to catch a yellowfin you’ve got two minutes to get your stuff together and we’re out of here.”

30 seconds later, Hunter came stumbling out the door half-asleep but amped to see what the day would bring, and we were off.

In no time at all, we were heading for the same marks on the plotter from the previous day, and as we neared the area, the sky filled with falling gannets and signs of hope in every direction. As I set the gear, I soon realized I had only grabbed four rods in the hurry to get on the water. After setting two lures on the outriggers in the clear water outside the wake and two more in the short corners, I started to feel a bit ‘naked’ not having a lure in shotgun way out the back where tuna often love to hit. In the forward cabin, I had left a Shimano stickbait set up as a ‘just in case’ outfit and, knowing it should handle a decent-sized yellowfin, I decided to pull it out and put a lure on it. The only problem now was the fact I just had the leader tied straight to the braid with a PR knot and no game swivel attached (or on the boat) to attach the crimped end of the trace with the lure attached. I rummaged through the boat but could only find a small Snapper swivel which I then tied to the braid on one end and the 200LB leader on the other, hoping that if a fish took a liking to that lure, it would either be a small one or a docile one. The lure on the end of that trace was a Stealth 3oz in fruit salad colours by Vixen Lures.

I decided to run that set in the starboard rigger where its weighted head runs nicely, and it was not long before it was smashed out of the rigger clip, and the spinning reel began to absolutely scream and unload at a rapid rate. Knowing we had limited line on that set-up, I grabbed the throttle control and backed it off a little, just keeping the boat in gear as we quickly cleared the gear and got Hunter on the rod, ready to battle his first yellowfin with non-traditional tackle.

Hunter settled into the fight after I strapped the gimbal around his waist, but due to the reel being a spin reel, he did not have the luxury of a harness and would have to battle his opponent toe to toe. In the back of my mind, I was wondering how strong that little swivel was and was constantly wondering if I would regret tying that on if something was to give, so we took it easy on the fish and decided to wear it down slowly and carefully.

The fish came to the surface a couple of times early in the fight, but knowing it would be green, I was not keen to close the gap and grab the leader in case it did a hard run breaking the little swivel and becoming a gutting story about the one that got away. When it was on the surface in those early stages, we could see its beautiful sickle cutting out of the water, letting us know this was a fish we did not want to lose. After an hour, the fish changed its pattern and dived deep, where it decided to settle in for the next hour, and we had a mission moving it, running a light drag and trying to lift it. We had been chatting to Jason on the radio, who had just landed a nice Yellowfin around 40-50kg for his young fella Ollie, and they were working the area around us, hooting and making the most of a hot bite.

Another hour or so later, the fish was tiring, and we began making solid ground on it until we could see it gliding below us in the inky blue water with the braid cutting through the water as we idled forward. I placed the gaff in the rod holder on the opposite side of the boat and slipped on the tracing gloves, then carefully leaned forward and grabbed the leader as Hunter placed the rod in the rod holder and grabbed the gaff.

When the fish neared the surface, I instantly noticed two things: it was a decent one with a stunning set of sickles, and the hook was only just hanging in there. I tried to keep calm when giving instructions to Hunter about making the gaff shot count, and he hit the mark perfectly with a solid shot securing his first yellowfin and a beautiful one at that!

We soaked up the moment and admired the stunning fish, relieved the hook held and grateful for the experience. The chilly was full of salt ice, and after a couple of quick photos to cherish the memory, we bled and gutted the fish before unravelling the tuna bag and packing the fish with ice to cool it down as soon as possible to keep the eating quality top notch.

While we were cleaning the fish and getting it cooled down, I looked over to see Jason slow down again as they had another two reels screaming, and we began to hoot and cheer them on yet again. We made the call to leave the gear in and head for home, as this one fish was plenty for us. Although we would have had a very good chance of hooking another yellowfin, we were content and grateful for what we had and wanted to look after it.

Arriving at the Whakatane weigh station in our little boat was a good feeling after such an awesome morning, and when the scales read a respectable 47kg gilled-and-gutted, we were both over the moon.

FOMO is certainly a real thing in the fishing world, and in this case, it gave me the push required to experience another catch that will not be forgotten.

March 2023 - Mat Cranswick
New Zealand Fishing News Magazine.
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