On the Record

“Bluefin!”

Roger Chadderton made the call. From the stern of our boat, he spotted the gold finned torpedoes powering through the water and inhaling the pilchard cubes he was tossing overboard. We knew just how big these tuna were: we had attracted their attention with lures be-fore we started cubing.

Frank Bluch was set: he had selected a fly outfit to suit the size of the tuna—a 6-8 TFO Mini Magnum rod coupled with an anti reverse Peux reel that was geared at 4.5:1. Most fly reels are direct drive. But for offshore fishing, gears and anti-reverse drag controls make sense. The leader was 3 kg and the fly a blue and white baitfish replica, chosen for its similarity to the pilchard cubes. It concealed a 2/0 Gamakatsu SL12S hook.

But there was a problem. Actually, there were several. A procession of albatrosses had set up shop behind the boat, and were ready and anxious to grab a sinking pilchard cube or, indeed, a fly that looked like one. This became apparent when Frank had made a couple of blind casts before the tuna showed. To avoid the probing beaks of the birds, he cast towards the bow, feeding out line to give the counterfeit offering time to sink. As it disappeared into the water column and drifted into the cube trail astern, a tuna steamed in and inhaled it. Frank was in business. Sort of…

The fish’s timing was excellent, and the take turbo-charged. But pressure on the line, a combination of the strike force and resistance from the fly line dragging through the water, snapped the 3 kg tippet like cotton thread. Frank backed off his drag slightly, rigged another leader, attached a fresh fly and cast again. Strike two. And again, the tippet broke.

Fishing is an evolutionary activity and anglers evolve differently as they seek new challenges, be it species, method or destination. Saltwater fish are a moving feast: a shimmering smorgasbord of life trying to eat and not be eaten. They live in a harsh environment, both different and the same. In an estuary, constant change dictates a need to alter techniques to catch the same species at different stages of a tide. Offshore, current, water temperature and food are controlling factors.

While technology has come into play with new lines, space age rod materials and synthetic fibre replacing traditional fur and feathers, the basic pursuit is unchanged—getting a fish on the end of the line. Some anglers raise the stakes by employing lighter tackle for personal satisfaction or to overtake established records.

Frank Bluch is one such angler.

Frank decided to go for records to rekindle his waning enthusiasm for fly-fishing. He needed a spark to reignite the passion. A holiday in Canada in 2008 helped: a new country, a different environment and a host of new species brought back some of the old enthusiasm. However, Frank wanted more; he yearned for a challenge, and cottoned on to the idea of chasing world record fish. Catching fish under Australian National Sportfishing Association rules is difficult enough, but more so under the strict regime set down by the International Game Fish Association.

During an intense four week period of fly fishing in Canada in August 2009, Frank established four new world records for Arctic char, Arctic grayling and bull trout. The first record, taken on August 9 at Great Bear Lake in the Northwest Territories, was an Arctic grayling weighing 1.7 kg taken on 1 kg line class. On August 11, Frank landed a 3.52 kg Arctic char on 1 kg line class in the Coppermine River in Nunavit. Two days later, fishing the Tree River, another record toppled when he caught a 7.71 kg Arctic char on 6 kg line class. On August 23, on the Wigwam River in British Columbia, Frank broke the 3 kg line class record for bull trout with a 6.46 kg fish.

In August last year, Frank returned to Great Bear Lake and landed a world record 13.83 kg lake trout on 1 kg tippet. It was an epic, four-hour battle that saw the fish released and swim away after being weighed in a cradle. Four days later, he broke his own 1 kg line class Arctic char record when he caught a 7.71 kg fish.

I share this by way of background. Fishing may be a sport to most of us, but to some dedicated anglers it is a discipline, serious and ever changing. Like all pursuits, you get out of it what you are prepared to put in.

In Australia, Frank started to change direction and looked to the briny for new challenges. Opportunities abounded and, living in Victoria, the obvious ones were southern bluefin tuna and sharks.

Which is how our bluefin hunt evolved. Frank, whom I have known for about 40 years, asked me along because saltwater fly is my preferred method and I had fly-fished sharks and pelagics. Stroking my ego, so to speak, he said he would appreciate the benefit of my experiences. He also needed a steady hand on the gaff and enlisted my son Michael, bribing him with the offer to fish the game rods whenever we trolled to locate tuna.

Planning is everything, and Frank is a pedant when it comes to tackle. He took half a dozen fly outfits from 6-weight to a couple of hand-built big gun rods suited to 9 kg tippets. The two large arbor reels each held more than 1000 metres of line: these were in case of barrels—big tuna—or makos. If nothing else, Frank is an optimist. All the reels had super smooth drags and Frank had taken to a couple of his reels and replaced the standard drag washers with leather washers soaked in oil—an old trick that has held me in good stead for more than 30 years.

Our destination was Portland in southwest Victoria and Frank had chartered Sea Wolf 2, an 8.5 metre plate-aluminium operated by Roger. The tuna came steaming into the cube trail about mid-morning. We were drifting in 500 metres of water more than 50 kilometres offshore from Cape Bridgewater. The nor’ easterly had just enough zip to aerate the water, creating short waves on top of a low swell; comfortable conditions in a big stable hull.

By the time Frank was ready for a third try the tuna were gone. Skipper Stephen Brown gunned the motors and we started trolling to find another school of tuna. This time a small albacore took the green-skirted jig and we decided to leave the fish in the water in the hope it would attract other tuna.

Swimming about 10 metres below, the albacore was flashing brilliantly and soon more bluefin rose to the cube trail. On the first cast, the hook went home. We held our breath but this time the tippet stayed firm. Half an hour after hook-up, Stephen turned the Sea Wolf into the wind to get ahead of the tuna. It is the most effective way to fight a pelagic on fly as the angle of pressure slowly encourages the fish to rise in the water column. This wasn’t an easy catch, taking two hours and 51 minutes from hook-up to landing. The last 30 minutes of the contest was a frustrating period for the tuna, slower now and on the surface, it somehow managed to stay just out of range of the gaff shot.

That tuna weighed in at 14.37 kg and is a pending IGFA world record. During the fight, we covered more than five nautical miles in a straight line but there was a lot of zigzagging so the distance covered was easily twice that.

The next day was designated shark day, unless some bigger tuna happened by. At about 8.30 a.m. in 60 metres of water off Cape Nelson, Stephen stopped the boat, Roger hung a pair of tuna frames over the stern and we started our drift. The wind was offshore and brisk enough that a sea anchor was used to slow our drift rate. The tuna oil slick trailing on the water soon attracted albatrosses, seals and our first shark, a mako between 20 and 30 kg.

At this size, Frank deemed it ideal for a 4 kg line class attempt and produced a 9-weight G.Loomis rod coupled with a Shilton fly reel. The fly was the same pattern used for the tuna, but had a stinger hook.

Although the shark swam several times around the boat, it showed no interest in the tuna frames, the pilchard cubes or Frank’s fly. We even tried an old trick of touching the tilt button on the outboard motors but the slight electrical charge given off did nothing. After a few minutes, the mako swam off.

Another hour or so and a blue shark appeared in the berley trail. The difference between the blue and the mako could be seen in the reaction of the albatrosses: when the mako came through the berley, the birds flew off immediately; the presence of the blue shark was ignored and the birds continued sitting in the berley trail feeding on tuna scraps. Every now and again one of the albatrosses would get cheeky and look underwater at the shark. Perhaps it was making certain it was a blue, after all, the penalty for error is harsh.

Frank cast his fly into the berley. Allowing it to sink, he stripped it back across the nose of the blue, which dutifully ate it. The fly rod doubled over, line sizzled out through the guides and then the shark was gone. On inspection, it was found the shark had swallowed the fly down past the piano wire trace and bitten through the monofilament leader.

About 2 p.m., another mako arrived. A shark of about 30–40 kg, it was hot to feed and the birds took fright and flight. Frank offered up his fly, the mako swallowed and took off, ripping about 150 metres of line out in a few seconds before the 4 kg tippet parted under the force of the take. However, the shark wasn’t finished; even though the line had separated, the mako came out of the water to complete a victory roll followed by a back flip.

Less than 30 minutes later and another shark was in the trail, this time a blue. Frank presented his fly, which was duly eaten and this time wire, leader and tippet stayed together for the 45 minutes it took Frank to bring the 38.6 kg denizen boat side. It was another pending world record, this time on 4 kg tippet.

It was a neat couple of days fishing but Frank pointed to a major difference between his Canada experiences and this one in that the char, grayling and trout he caught were weighed in a cradle and released unharmed. The shark and tuna on the other hand were destined for the cooking pot, not necessarily a bad thing if you happen to be a piscivore.

If you want to chase records, be aware that catching the fish is only part of the journey. The capture must be witnessed, the fish weighed on certified scales and forms must be filled in, signed, witnessed and sent off with the leader. It’s all too much for me— I’d just as soon go fishing.

LEADER FACTS

TUNA
The leader was 3 kg and consisted of 12 inches (30 cm) of 12 kg fluorocarbon shock tippet. 15 inches (38.1 cm) of 3 kg class tippet (measured inside the connecting knots) and a 30-inch (76 cm) 10 kg butt section. A plaited double knot was tied on each end of the class tippet and this was attached to the shock tippet and butt section with Huffnagel knots.

Fly was a blue and white baitfish replica, chosen for its similarity to the pilchard cubes, with a 2/0 Gamakatsu SL12S hook.

SHARK
The leader consisted of 11.75 inches of piano wire, a 4 kg tippet and a 15 kg butt section with a similar, albeit slightly larger, fly than was used for the tuna. This fly had the same hook size, 2/0, but was made with an additional stinger hook for good measure.