We had a classic Hurricane bank show late yesterday afternoon following a day of slow scratching on wahoo and seventy to one hundred pound class yellowfin tuna. Although we had slack conditions on the anchor with the boat swinging all around the compass from daylight through about three p.m., we managed to stay alive with more fish showing around the boat and cooperating with an occasional bite for those anglers patient and persistent enough to put forth the effort at the rail. It was no barn burner by any means but fishing success is always relative. Compared to yesterday and our first two days at the bank, we were appeased with the results.
Getting back to my original statement about the "classic" Hurricane bank show, this place is famous for coming alive, usually in the late afternoon, with what appears to be every tuna within miles of the place simultaneously erupting from the deeps in pursuit of flying fish. This exact scenario occurred yesterday and like so many times in the past amazed us in several ways. The first and most obvious is certainly the spectacle of hundreds of yellowfin in all size classes making spectacular leaps violently scattering flying fish in every direction. Nothing gets the blood pumping like the sight of two hundred pounders blowing out on flyers off the bank getting closer and closer and closer. Naturally every angler at this point is either scrambling to get a bait in the water or frantically winding in that old bait he/she has been soaking on the outside for twenty minutes to exchange for a new one. Lazy kite baits are bounced around to make a commotion, crewman are hooting and hollering, knees are shaking in anticipation as the possessed yellowfin continue their charge. Man, what a moment; that instantly transforms an idle afternoon into high stakes intensity.
At this point I'd love to
continue the story by relating details of great success and glory but it didn't happen. In yesterday's case they were almost all show and no go with a few exceptions, including a two hundred fifty eight pounder caught by angler Robert "Whitey" Ziemer, who's performance and drive at the rail is sheer inspiration at the age of seventy eight.

Now comes our final day of fishing and two features have us feeling optimistic about our chances. First and foremost is the fact that the weather, that has been giving us a hard time the entire trip, has finally backed off to a pleasant state. Second is the sign of fish seen yesterday that demonstrated without a doubt that there are plenty of big fish around this bank to more than satisfy. Let us hope that is the case today.