Along with the winds we had no problem catching fish on our offshore leg to Miami. Throughout the morning we pulled in about one Spanish Mackerel per hour, but they were all too small to make a good fillet. We tossed each one back asking it to send its larger brother. Then we pulled in a silver fish with a light blue stripe running from head to tail. The fish was only 1 foot long and weighed less than 3 pounds so back it went. After resetting the line, I went below to look up the species. No luck. None of our books picture the fish. Wish we had got a picture.

One of our final tacks took us within 300 yards of Haulover Beach, north of Miami. Here the water depth shrank from the 200 plus feet we were accustomed to only 18 feet. As we tacked away from the shore the reel began to shriek. Fish on! Grabbing the rod it was all I could do the hang on as the fish struggled against the line. Big fish on! Finally the fish began to fatigue and I was able to increase the drag to avoid having the fish spool off all the line on the reel, but I still could not take in any line. Add together the size of the fish and 6knots of hull speed and I could not bring in the fish. Anne offered to bring C'est la Vie into the wind to allow me to reel in the fish. Focused on landing the fish, I was unable to assist with the lines or the helm. As our hull speed slowed I began to reel in the beast.

Anne, sounding troubled, asked, "What do I do now?"
Looking forward from my fighting stance at our stern pulpit all I could say is, "wow."
"What? Help!" croaked Anne.
"No it's great! How did you do that?" I replied. "You have hove to C'est la Vie perfectly."

Anne had back winded the Genoa and pushed the tiller to leeward. The C'est la Vie was stalled her massive genoa pushing the boat to starboard while her tiller struggled to steer to port. While the genoa and rudder attempted to overcome one another the main sail provided just enough forward speed to keep the forces in balance.

With Anne now free to assist and C'est la Vie slowed to less than 2 knots it was back to bringing home dinner. As the fish tired I was able to draw it closer to the boat. It became apparent we had hooked something large. Not wanting to lose the fish, I barked out orders, "Anne, get the gaff. Anne, get the bone knife. Anne I hope this is not a shark. Anne, quit filming and help me land this thing!" Land it we did a beautiful 25+lb Yellow Fin Tuna (see image included Anne and I debate - yellow fin or big eye? Anyone? Wiley you out there?). With the tuna hanging from our gaff the hook was easily freed from the massive mouth. How are we going to fillet this beast without making a bloody mess aboard C'est la Vie? Where are we going to store all these steaks? And without answering these questions we returned the beautiful fish to the ocean.


After freeing the beast we decided to focus on making the cut before dark and so we stowed the fishing gear for another day. The winds and seas were building and the afternoon skies were beginning to blush. We freed the backed genoa, centered the tiller, and began one more long tack offshore that took us back out to a depth of 300 feet on the cusp of the Gulf Stream before reaching our desired bearing of 220 degrees off the Government Cut Jetty.

Prepare to tack, hard alee, and with a great commotion of flogging cloth we began our tack into Miami. As the last light ebbed from the skies we anchored just south of Fisher Island. With a Jack and Ginger in our tumblers and tofu grillers filling our bellies we toasted the day... to fine sailing and the health of the tuna we cast back to the ocean.