THEY ENJOY ESPRIT DE ALBACORE : Even Skeptics Believe That Prized Sportfish Finally Has Returned

For those aboard the Pacific Dawn, the tiny clump of floating kelp had a special significance. Beneath it could have been the source of excitement not seen in these parts in more than three years.

Skipper John Shull guided the sportfisher slowly past the brown paddy--floating kelp is known to attract open-sea species of fish--when suddenly, the sound of line screaming from two trolling rigs filled the air, followed by the cry, “Hookup!”

Fishermen scrambled for their equipment and toward the bait tanks. Those trolling either reeled in or fought their fish. It was apparent then that all were starving for that long-awaited “tuna fix.”

Soon, two sizable yellowtail were brought to the surface by the trollers. They were gaffed and hauled onto the deck. A few fishermen looked disappointed.

“I thought for sure they were going to be tuna,” one of them muttered, hoping to see for himself that the prized albacore were indeed back, as reported.

Shull, owner and skipper of the Pacific Dawn, repositioned the boat over some fish he had metered near the kelp paddy and soon all doubts were removed.

A yellow iron produced a strike and minutes later a silvery-blue fish was gaffed and brought over the rail. A chorus of “Albie!” rang out.

Another hookup, this time on a live anchovy. Another shining fish gaffed and brought flopping upon the deck.

Albacore!

These premium tuna, the absence of which baffled experts and severely injured local sportfishing, were well within range of the overnight fishing fleet.

They hit the deck one after another during a frantic bite that lasted for nearly two hours in offshore Mexican waters barely 80 miles south of here.

The fishermen flung their anchovies as best they could into the wind and moved from one side of the stern to the other, following their drifting baits as they were swept by the currents. Others plucked fresh baits from the tanks and returned to their place in the fast-moving “A-Train.” Those who were hooked up raced up and down the deck trying to keep up with the small but powerful tuna. The crew worked frantically to keep up.

One deckhand worked the gaff and systematically plucked tuna--including some sizable bluefins--out of the water and onto the deck. The other oversaw the action while standing atop the bait tanks, tossing anchovies over the rail to keep the schooling fish near the boat and watching for fish on the surface.

“Boil on the starboard bow!” he yelled, and the nearest fishermen cast, bellowing, “Fresh fish!” if a fish took the bait.

Skipper Shull, meanwhile, helped with the gaffing and gave sound advice to those in need of such.

“If Mr. Penn had wanted a thumb on that spool, he would have put one there,” he said to one fisherman trying to stop a sizzling run with his thumb on the spool of a Penn reel.

The sacks filled quickly with albacore averaging about seven pounds and a few bluefin tuna in the 20- to 40-pound class.

Laguna Niguel’s Brad Bridges, who had already boated a yellowtail, bluefin and a few albacore, hooked into a dorado under the kelp but lost the colorful fish when it leaped out of the water and shook the hook.

Soon, however, the hookups became less frequent. The fish that still showed on Shull’s meter had moved into deeper water and were less active. The decision to move was made and the trolling lines set out.

The once-quiet galley now echoed with happy chatter.

“This is the best bite in years,” said Bob Curtis, 61, who has fished for albacore for 25 years. “I’m not in shape for this. I really should be elsewhere.”

John Mantele, a 30-year veteran on the albacore circuit, said he watched the counts rise steadily before making his reservations.

“I called up my partner, got his (answering) machine and just said, ‘They’re back,’ and he knew what I meant,” he said.

Across the horizon, other sportfishers, many of which had long been idle, were visible in every direction, searching for the longfins. Competition between skippers was evident as they monitored each others’ successes and failures via radio--all hoping to be “top boat” by day’s end.

Beneath overcast skies and amid a steady west wind, those aboard the Pacific Dawn encountered similar but shorter-lived bites throughout late morning and early afternoon, including one during which bluefin tuna in the 50-pound-plus range crashed the albacore party, sending a few ill-prepared fishermen into muscle-wrenching battles.

Oxnard’s Mark Wallace had his entire spool of line stripped from his reel. Others struggled with the meaty bluefins for what seemed eternity. Greg Bayme of Laguna Niguel landed what later won the boat’s jackpot: a bluefin tuna that easily weighed more than the boats’s 50-pound scale could measure.

Using 20-pound-test line, Bayme started on one side of the boat and ended up on the other, where he stood for more than 30 minutes as the fish sounded time and again before finally succumbing.

“Everyone was saying some guy got spooled and I though I was next,” a smiling Bayme said after boating the tuna.

Between bites, Shull continued to roam the choppy seas as twilight slowly turned to darkness. The passengers had retired to the galley, where dinner was being prepared.

An hour or so had passed without incident when the alarm sounded again: line screaming from one of the trolling rigs and the cry, “Hookup!” Food and drink were left at the tables, tossed about the galley by the growing seas.

Half of those aboard hooked up almost at once in the most chaotic bite of the day. The fishermen whooped and stomped their way up and down the rails, over and under the lines of the others. Grasping for fresh bait, they stepped hurriedly over the flopping tuna that quickly littered the deck to catch “just one more.”

By day’s end, the bite Curtis called the best in years had become “the best in ages.”

The limited load of 18 passengers--who paid $150 apiece--had combined for a total of 85 albacore, 19 bluefin tuna, four yellowtail and Bridges’ bull dorado. The bull dorado was caught shortly before dark, giving him a four-species day. One of the better counts of a 1 1/2-day trip had been radioed back to Fisherman’s Landing and the Pacific Dawn could be labeled top boat.

When word of the albacore showing 200 miles south of here was received early last month--from a commercial bait boat passing through the area en route to Cabo San Lucas--the landing operators were wild with optimism. The fish were very small and the size of the schools unknown, but trips were organized nevertheless.

Three- and five-day boats began to report encouraging numbers of the fish. Experts, who said the three-year absence of albacore is a normal occurrence, implied that conditions were such to allow for a northward migration.

However, some overnight boat captains were skeptical of the reports.

Nick Cates, owner-operator of the New Lo Anne, said: “I’m not excited. Those of us who have been around know better. Most of us have been through this before.”

Business was hurting, and skippers such as Cates were tired of being teased by the presence of small albacore well out of their reach. He and others suggested that these fish may have come from a resident population at Guadalupe Island and would soon disappear.

But six weeks passed and feelings have changed. These albacore did move north and it became evident that sizable schools of albacore were within reach.

Small albacore, maybe, but albacore nevertheless.

“They taste the same and they still put up a good fight,” Paul Morris, Fisherman’s Landing manager, said.

Bluefin tuna, bigger and more powerful and in the same area, have been getting some attention lately, Shull said. “But mention albacore and (fishermen) go nuts.”

Apparently so. Last year at this time, some skippers claimed to be operating at as low as 20% of potential, despite the presence--albeit scattered--of bluefin and bigeye tuna. Now, the landings are operating “at or close to 100%,” Morris said.

Parking is a mess. Boats are coming and going at all hours. Cartloads of tuna are regularly being lugged up the ramps and telephones are ringing off the hooks.

“Now if only it’ll last another month or so,” Shull said.