THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, January 28, 1996 TAG: 9601280151
SECTION: FRONT PAGE: A1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY LANE DEGREGORY, STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: ON THE ATLANTIC, SOUTHEAST OF HATTERAS INLET LENGTH: Long : 180 lin
As soon as the herring head hit the sea's surface, the gray-green water beside our boat began to boil.
Around, beneath, on all sides of The Bullfrog, giant bluefin tuna lunged from the Atlantic, biting at the bait. Fish as heavy and as long as the burliest Dallas Cowboys lineman surrounded the stern, splashing their powerful tails. A 300-pound tuna grabbed the line less than five seconds after John McGee tossed his first bait overboard.
The 31-year-old angler was in for a fight.
``Yeeeooowiiieee!'' McGee shouted, jamming the graphite rod into his gut. ``This girl's a-goin'.''
``Stop yakkin'. Start crankin,' '' Capt. Bob Eakes bellowed from behind the fisherman's left elbow. ``Crank. Crank. Hold her. Don't let that baby get the best of you. Crank. Crank. Crank. Crank. Crank!''
Strapped into a wide, wooden chair bolted to The Bullfrog's fiberglass deck, McGee stood up in his seat several times during his struggle to bring in the big bluefin. The fish fought ferociously, darting from one side of the boat to the other. Diving and leaping and - most of all - running from the 35-foot vessel, the tuna took a football field's length of line before it finally began tiring.
McGee's biceps ached by the time the bluefin bounced alongside the boat about 10 minutes after the fight started. In the January sunshine last Tuesday morning, he stripped off his sweat-soaked jacket and tried to hold his line steady. Suddenly, the fish's round head broke through the ocean's surface - an enormous, unblinking wolf-like eye opened wide.
Then Eakes - in a fluid fury - grabbed the monofilament leader in his gloved left hand, swung a home-made tagging stick with his right, and jabbed a slender orange identification tag into the tuna's tough shoulder. The captain dropped the stick, picked up a small gaff and hooked the barb of the circle hook hanging from the corner of the fish's mouth. He yanked the metal hook backward until its eyelet popped through the bluefin's thick skin. Pulling the tuna by the leader, Eakes towed it about 30 feet behind the boat. Then he cut the line.
The giant was free.
It was never handled by human hands. It never even left the water. Five minutes after the fisherman had reeled it in, the captain had tagged, unhooked and released the powerful bluefin - which dove deep and swam away.
Anglers from across the country caught and let go more than 200 trophy-size tuna last week off Hatteras Island. Since the sports season opened Jan. 1, at least 500 of the mammoth fish have been snagged. Thousands of bluefin weighing between 150 and 600 pounds are schooling in the Gulf Stream off the southern Outer Banks.
No one knows why they're wintering here. They didn't start showing up until two years ago. But anglers, charter boat captains, Hatteras Island hotel and restaurant owners - even biologists - are ecstatic that the bluefin are around.
``There've been a few fish around here before. But never like this,'' Charter boat Capt. Walt Spruill said Saturday from his Hatteras Island home. ``I took out four parties that first winter, in '94. Last year, I got 15 days on the ocean. I've been out 12 days already this month.
``Tagged 83 big bluefin so far. Not all've been giants. Lots of fish in the 150 to 250-pound range. They're all awesome. It's the experience of a lifetime.
``Makes me want to go out there and just spank those bad boys.''
One of the largest fish in the world, bluefin tuna live throughout the Atlantic. They can grow up to 10 feet long and weigh as much as 1,500 pounds. Traditionally, they've swam along the northeastern coast in the summers, but there's been no winter fishery. New York and New Jersey have had charter boat fleets for the fish since the 1950s.
But for the past few winters, masses of bluefin have congregated between Hatteras and Ocracoke inlets off North Carolina's barrier islands. They seem to enjoy the warm Gulf Stream waters 16 to 22 miles offshore. They prefer temperatures of 65 to 85 degrees and swim in depths up to 150 feet. Lately, they've seemed excited about the free food thrown by saltwater anglers who chum for bluefin by tossing boxes of bait overboard each day. On Tuesday, one captain called over the marine radio that the tremendous tuna were so thick around his boat that he couldn't see the water.
Bluefin around The Bullfrog were so hungry they leapt at a chicken bone Eakes tossed into the ocean; a plastic popper strung across a spinning reel; even a paper towel that blew overboard.
``The fish populations - and angling interests - in bluefins have been exploding in the last three or so winters. And it seems to be growing tenfold every year,'' National Marine Fisheries Service biologist Chuck Manooch said Friday. ``There've been a remarkable number of hook-ups off Hatteras just this month. Boats are coming from all over the coast to catch and release these big fish. Bluefin hook up real quickly. That makes them ideal for tagging. And we need to get all the information we can about this species.''
About 50 recreational boats already are fishing off the Outer Banks, coming from as far as New York and South Carolina. Two to three additional boats arrive every day the ocean's calm. For the first winter anyone can remember, the usually sleepy docks at Hatteras Village are overflowing with charter vessels. Hotels and restaurants that never opened in January are filled with flush-faced anglers.
Spruill says he has only four days between now and mid-April that he's not booked for bluefin charter trips. Already this year, he's carried fishing enthusiasts from Colorado to Florida to Oregon and even Germany. Full-day Gulf Stream trips cost between $800 and $1,000 for six people.
The giant fish don't taste very good, most people say. But they're apparently good raw. Japanese sushi chefs covet the bluefins - which sell for $30,000 to $60,000 each in Tokyo. But the United States has tight restrictions on keeping the fish. Recreational anglers can keep two bluefin per person per day up to 5 feet long; one per boat per day up to 73 inches long; and one per boat per year bigger than that. But they can't sell those tuna.
Commercial restrictions are even tougher.
But the fun of fishing for giant bluefin tuna, sportsmen say, is in the strike, the fight and the satisfaction of releasing the fish alive.
``Fishing isn't always about catching and keeping. It's a lot more exciting and challenging to let 'em go alive than it is to reel 'em in dead,'' McGee said Tuesday after releasing his ninth tuna. ``I've never had a bad feeling about setting a fish free - whether it weighed a half-pound or 100 pounds more than me.''
By carrying charter parties to catch and release bluefin, watermen also may be reducing their commercial catches of other species.
``Five years ago, there was nothing going on here from November through March. Maybe one or two yellowfin tuna trips. Then, we all commercial-fished to get by,'' Spruill said. ``This season has made me put my commercial gear away. It's a rush just to watch the big bluefin schooling around the boat. There are so many fish. It's not like a marlin that, once you lose it, you may not see another for days - or ever. With these bluefin, you just turn around and pitch another bait and you got another big one right on.''
Scientists aren't sure how many bluefin tuna die after being fought, tagged and released. Researchers hope to send divers down in late February to watch the fish after they're cut loose. But they're glad to have tagging information. They're happy anglers aren't killing the fish. And they all agree that Eakes' innovative methods of using circle hooks and, especially, removing the hooks, greatly increase the fish's chance for survival.
During Tuesday's trip, Eakes tagged and released 27 big bluefin weighing between 150 and 300 pounds. He got the hook out of every fish. As four witnesses watched, each tuna swam away from the boat with a strong splash.
``Bob's come up with some terrific ideas about how to make this whole tagging system better,'' said Eric Prince, tagging coordinator for the National Marine Fisheries Service's Miami-based bluefin program. ``He's invented a dual-applicator tagging pole. You can stick two tags onto it at perpendicular and 180-degree angles. That allows you to change directions and gives you a much better chance at getting the tag in the proper area: in the dark strip above its shoulder.
``And circle hooks - another one of Eakes' ideas - are fantastic,'' Prince said Friday. ``More than 95 percent of that style hook ends up in the corner of the fish's mouth. Virtually none are swallowed. I don't believe that's the case with straight hooks. Hook a fish in its palate or gullet and it's fatal.
``If you can go the final step and get the hook out relatively quickly like Bob does, it's even better for the tuna. And it's certainly worth the effort. Then, all the fish gets when he swims away is a small hole in the corner of his mouth - and a hurt pride.''
Last winter, anglers bagged hundreds of bluefin, including at least 13 that had been previously tagged, primarily off the Outer Banks. Spruill caught a 160-pound fish 10 days ago and recovered its tag. The tuna had been previously released off Long Island Aug. 7, 1991.
In 1995, Eakes tagged and released 335 big bluefin tuna - more than all other East Coast anglers tagged that year. Two weeks ago, the International Game Fish Association named him ``Captain of the Year for Bluefin.'' It's no wonder Eakes, who lives in Frisco on Hatteras Island and runs Red Drum Tackle Shop in Buxton, has been asked to speak at sports-fishing conferences from Virginia Beach to Raleigh and has been quoted in international angling magazines about his innovative ideas.
``I've been thinking about it all summer, trying different styles of tagging sticks, hooks and de-hookers,'' said Eakes, whose curly, snow-white hair falls in bangs just above his Carolina blue eyes. ``The quicker you can bring in the fish and the less you have to handle it, the better off the bluefin is. This is the best, biggest catch and release tuna tagging I know of anywhere in the world. And it's right here in Hatteras.
``This is about as good as it gets.'' ILLUSTRATION: Color photo
DREW C. WILSON/The Virginian-Pilot
After giving one of Capt. Bob Eakes' customers a fierce fight, a
bluefin tuna is tagged by Eakes, who will then release it. For a
second straight winter, bluefin are fueling an off-season tourist
boom in the Outer Banks.
Photo
DREW C. WILSON/The Virginian-Pilot
John McGee, left, fights a bluefin tuna while Rich Novak steadies
his chair during an Outer Banks charter run.
by CNB