Got Wasabi?
20 September 2012 | Suwarrow
Mark
Since outfitting myself in Maui with a hand line, several jet heat tolling lures and wasabi, I've been hoping to catch a tuna. This has proven to be more of a challenge than I expected. For one thing, many of the highly sought after Yellow Fin tuna are simply huge! The thought of trying to wrestle a 100lb tuna up and over the side in 10-12 foot seas is daunting enough, but assuming we could manage that, butchering the behemoth underway with the boat pitching wildly requires special nerve and skill. Then there is the matter of what to do with 100lb of fresh tuna meat. Since our "freezer" is about the size of 1 large lunchbox, we just couldn't keep it all and that would be a horrible waste. On passage, while mulling over these obstacles and considering whether or not to deploy the trolling line, I would oscillate between "no way in hell" and "yea, let's do it" - depending largely on how afflicted I felt from mal de mere. The passage from Manihiki to Suwarrow was timed so we could make the pass and arrive in daylight hours. Since it was an overnight passage, we could fish the early morning hours and if we caught something, would not be too far from a settled anchorage. And so with high hopes, I deployed the line on commencement of my 0600 watch. As usual, the wind was now blowing about 24 knots instead of the 15 knots forecast and with a rather large beam sea. After a several hour distraction of fixing the windvane wheel attachment (held on with 3 hose clamps - 2 of which had broken) and since we were nearing our landfall, I went down to turn on the computer. Suddenly I heard Lolo's excited shouts, "Fish, fish, fish. Mark, FISH!" We were now about 3 miles from the channel at Anchorage Island and closing fast. Aside from the usual chores this entails (navigating, dousing and furling sails, readying the anchor, etc. we now had an extra challenge on our hands. I donned my orange gloves (thanks Danny) and began hauling in the line as fast as I could while Lolo coiled. I'd remembered the stories from Palmyra of the many fish they catch which are promptly severed in half by the well suited large grey reef sharks. I'd waited too long for that nonsense so I hauled like a madman. I could see a bright silver shape spinning around in the water as the fish came closer to the boat. Lolo readied the gaff and soon I had it suspended over the rail as I administered a dose of vodka to its gills. We'd caught a sizeable skipjack tuna. I sliced through the gills to bleed it and from the placement of the gaff hook, I thought we'd managed to kill the fish. But his fight had only begun. The fish went into an accelerated flipping motion that seemed more of an involuntary spasm of high speed swimming than anything else. Since it was blowing over 20 knots and the fish was suspended over the windward rail by the gaff, there was not much I could do but hang on tight as 30 lbs of fighting meat thrashed about. Soon, not only the rail and side deck of the boat, but the entire cockpit and to Lolo's horror, crew were covered in a spray of bright red tuna blood. "Hand me the knife quick" I said, and soon severed the spinal cord and pithed the brain of the beast. Finally the great fish was motionless. Laurence was disgusted. Looking up, we could now see the barrier reef and had to immediately attend to the boat. I'm sure we were quite a sight coming through the pass - blood spattered and battle worn. Once through, we opted to drift as I butchered the fish and we cleaned the majority of blood from the decks and ourselves. I'd heard before that Tuna are some of the few fish that regulate their own body temperature and so are warm-blooded. But I have to say it was quite odd handling the large warm pieces of dark red meat. It seemed more like butchering a mammal to me. As Laurence put the last bag of tuna loins in the icebox, we splashed off some more and headed to the anchorage where 15 other yachts lay. Before we even set the hook we were accompanied by 7 black tip reef sharks that swirled about the transom. Looking at my still blood spattered legs and spotting a few chunks of tuna meat attached to my skin, I quickly ruled out a swim. It was now about noon. We were tired and hungry. Chores of digging out and assembling the dinghy and mounting the outboard would wait. "What's for lunch?" Lolo said. "Seared tuna!" I replied. I finally made the dish I've been waiting to make for a while now. Lolo made some jasmine rice and we got out the soy and wasabi. It was the taste of victory and it was delicious!