For those guys who don't read Sport Fishing, I tell you you're missing something. This is the editorial that Doug Olander, the Editor in Chief wrote in one of the latest issue and I think is really worth reading.
Thanks Doug, keep up the great work!
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STROKE YOUR SEA KITTEN TODAY!
I just love PETA. No — I really do. (That of course is the group People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals, though I know a few anglers who insist that they belong to a different PETA -- People Eating Tasty Animals). Those folks are just so zany and entertaining, and we can always use a good laugh these days.
I mean, I was still chuckling over PETA’s recent campaign to persuade major ice-cream manufacturers to substitute human breast milk for cow’s milk (as Dave Barry likes to say, I am not making this up), when along comes a campaign to “Save the Sea Kittens.”
Being a typically uninformed ravager of the sea like me, you’re probably wondering what a “sea kitten” might be. True, it’s not exactly intuitive. “Sea kitten” replaces that archaic term for the finny things we pursue — formerly known as “fish.” (No, I’m not making this up, either.)
Why? Turning logic inside-out in its typically quaint fashion, PETA explains the need to stop using the word “fish” because that “name can also be used as a verb that means driving a hook through [a fish’s] head.” (I don’t know about you, but that pretty accurately describes all the fish I catch.) “Who,” PETA asks, “could possibly want to put a hook through a sea kitten?”
Who, indeed? If you want some nice tackle, cheap, see the ad I just posted on Craig’s List for all my rods and reels. I had no problem mindlessly slaughtering fish by the hundreds, as of course all fishermen strive to do, but now that it’s come to hurting poor sea kittens ... my God! What sort of brute do you take me for?
PETA’s website describes, for example, a poor sea kitten that spent years “watching her friends and family being hooked through the mouth and dragged into a harsh, alien world.” The upshot? Watching that “have [sic] driven her mad with grief.” Think about it, you swine: How many fish have you driven mad with grief?
And PETA points out that the name change will ensure no one buys fish to eat ever again. Eating fish is bad enough, but who in his right mind would order a fillet of sea kitten? (Just as well, since PETA reminds us that, “All fish flesh today is contaminated with heavy metals and other toxins.” In fact, “fish flesh is just about the most polluted thing that humans put into their bodies”! Maybe that explains my recent green glow in dark rooms.)
And for you spiritual anglers, note that PETA suggests you can still get right with God by giving up your evil ways, as it is “un-Christian to torture and kill fish” (if you practice any other faith, you’ll need to consult PETA for a ruling on torturing sea kittens).
In four years, we might have a sea kitten in a large tank occupying the White House — with any luck. After all, says PETA, sea kittens are “cuter and smarter than the president of the United States.”
I now call upon my fellow sea kitteners who still insist upon catching poor marine felines to at least stroke them before setting them gently in the fish box — sorry, in the sea-kitten box. Why? Well, duh! “Like their surface-dwelling cousins, the land kittens [not including a couple of Siamese cats I know], sea kitties enjoy being petted. Their lack of arms makes it difficult for them to pet back, but they often gently rub against each other as a sign of affection,” PETA informs us. Sure, I love to stroke freshly gaffed wahoo as much as the next guy, because I know how that pussycat with razor-lined jaws appreciates it. And now I can better appreciate gazing starry-eyed at scads in a livewell, rubbing and purring in their big love fest that, in my ignorance, I somehow failed to notice all these years.
It’s time you started to realize how adorable all sea kittens are. “Sea kittens talk to each other through squeaks, squeals and other low-frequency sounds that humans can only hear through special instruments. Most ichthyologists — scientists who specialize in sea-kitten biology — agree that this is just about the cutest thing ever.” For example, last week I watched a mako shark bite off the tail of a swordfish, disabling it and dooming it, and then swim off. That was so darn cute, I just wanted to reach out and pet that little mako sea kitten!
Trust me, fellow sea-kitten chasers, this is going to spread and change our sport forever (no less than, for example, PETA’s campaign has changed all ice cream from cows’ milk to breast milk). For example, just one fisheries management official, Spud Woodward, who is Georgia’s chief of marine fisheries, says he’s figuring on proposing an Interstate Fishery Management Plan for Atlantic Coast Sea Kittens. “I want the Atlantic States Marine Fisheries Commission (ASMFC) to be the nation's leader in protecting our valuable sea-kitten resources.” Woodward acknowledges that may mean the ASMFC dropping other plans, but Woodward says the importance of managing sea kittens renders separate management plans for species like striped bass or red drum “insignificant.” And who could argue with that logic?
So there you have it, my fellow sea-kitty lovers. Hug one today. And by the way, don’t look for Sport Fishing magazine on the newsstands starting next issue. We’re now, proudly, Sea Kitten magazine. Thanks, PETA!
One day I can tell my nephews, I was there, at Steelwagon Bank, when the Bluefins were plentiful and the poppers were roaring!
We were supposed to be there in October but a whole week of stormy weather drastically changed our plans and forced us to move our flight to November the 2nd. Lucky us. We ended up with some very nice weather, lots of sunshine and very decent sea conditions.
Now, the great thing about having somebody fighting a nearly 200lb Bluefin when Capt. Dom (http://coastalcharterssportfishing.com/) is at the helm is that the show that he puts together is already worth the trip. His yells and screams are unique and can be heard probably around the whole of New England, such is his passion for fishing and his great expertise in popping and jigging for Bluefins. Domenico is a great deal of fun, very motivating and always cheering up the crew. No doubt that he is among the best skippers I ever had the pleasure to fish with.
The weather was nearly perfect, amazing blue skies, no wind, and reasonably warm. I don’t know how many photos we took but I had an absolute blast. I took my tripod with me and set it on every corner, park, building, tree that I found attractive. If cameras could melt for abuse my D90 would now be like a Dali sculpture.
It was truly like meeting a buddy from college time, and I was truly happy to finally meet him in person. With him Willie, a very nice and polite guy, very much looking forward to his first tête a tête with a Giant. Kil is a very experienced Tuna fisherman, way more than myself, and have already fished Steelwagon ban some 20+ times this season. Even though he was the eldest on board he kicked our ass big time with a magnificent 3 strikes X 2 fish caught, one on jigs and the other on a stickbait. Willie fought a fish that Dom has hooked and Mario, hooked his freight train at the very end of the day and lost it at the leader because the wire of the lure broke, but Dom has the mono in his hands so the fish was ethically caught. We did the Longhorn Steak House thing again, and boy, did we have a good time or what!
Crazy Dom picked us up at 04:30, there was ice on the boat and I can promise you that it was freezing. Right at the mouth of the harbour we lost the sensitivity of our faces and after less than 5 miles we had no more sensitivity in our fingers or hands whatsoever. The Tunas seemed to be less active, I’m sure the cold night had something to do with their behaviour and we didn’t manage to raise a single fish to a surface lure. Thus, after a radio call from a friend’s boat, Mario first and myself 4 minutes later both hooked and lots two nice fish. Mario’s broke the braid and mine simply spit the hook. Dom had a further bite too but even though we put the lures on the head of many animals, we ended up with skunked.
Galway, a paradise for sea bass, protected by strict laws enforced by the government. Fish that grow for the exclusive pleasure of recreational fisherman, without the use and abuse of the trade. In a country like Ireland where the money is not plentiful and the crisis is hammering hard, this is a real impressive result. The recreational fishermen are only entitled to two pieces per day and no nets, gillnets, trawls and long lines are affecting the stock.
The reports from friends who had been there previously were amazing and it was already time to park the heavy duty tackle for some lighter outfit. Oriol, Thomas and Mario were the lucky ones who shared with me these 4 intense, fruitful and enjoyable days. John was our guide and Lynn, his wife, tireless cook, terribly frightened by the amount of food the Spanish-Italian team could gobble each day.
A quick bite to calm the restless stomachs and after rigging the tackle we could finally go fishing. The first day was a little poor, with a couple of bass and one or two more bites. A good dinner and a deserved rest were needed to prepare the tired bodies for the next day, with a scary wake up call at 04:30 in the morning.
On our first full day of fishing, even arriving at dawn at the spot and despite of the efforts of the guide, the fish were still not participating. However, Oriol managed to land the largest piece of the week, but the team is far from being happy yet.
There were moments of frantic activity followed by sudden stops, all this due to the tides and the food that would concentrate or spread the fish. But we were staring seeing numbers at least. The double digits that my friends anticipated me before my trip were not a lie or a fisherman’s exaggeration, and the Irish Bass proved us that they can be very aggressive and fierce predators. 
Fishing was mainly either on the surface with walking the dogs, or an inch below the water with soft plastics, especially Fin-S and the Super Fluke, basically because they were the only ones we had. I found a dog that worked wonderfully in a foggy morning. Could cast it where others failed and obviously had an action that our finned ladies liked very much. Climbed to the highest step of the podium and every minute his stock value was moving faster that the rate of oil.
Unfortunately the photos I have are so pathetic that I will not dare to show them. Thus I do remember the panic of climbing up and down those high and steep cliffs under which where they live. It was scary. Fearful. Hopefully next time they will not see me wearing long neoprene waders with felt soles, thus I will be scared again, no shame to admit it.
The old series of Lamiglas Travel was quite bad but these have shown great qualities, both in casting and working the lures, exceeding the 8-foot rods that my friends were using. One is spinning, the XTC 704 able to toss lures up to 3/4oz and the other is the casting model XTC7025 with a lure rating up to 1 1/2oz. On the first one I put a reel a tad too big for it, the Certate 3500 Custom and on the second a Team Daiwa Luna 253, bait casting, which is a little gem. Tuf Line 20lb with 20/30lb leaders. Lures of the like of Spit'n Image, GunFish, Sammy, High Roller, and the vinyl discussed above.
During a photo session on the shoreline, three flashes mounted on a Lastolite Tri-Flash and a Manfrotto 001 Stand decided to take a swim and got as fried as the eggs we would eat in the morning. After a couple of hours I slipped on a rock and the Nikon D80 with the Sigma 10-20 drunk a good pint of water and stopped working. Finally, the joke had cost me more than most expensive trip to the tropics and I only managed to keep working thanks to the old D70s and 18-200, a lens that I don’t love too much and no speedlights available to lit up a bit the images.
I made peace with the soft plastics, I returned to see a country I love a lot, and I fished light tackle, which ultimately gives me great satisfaction. To be 100% satisfied I need the camera and lens to survive the dive, I’ll know it in few days. 
Well, this is at least my humble opinion. I believe that my friend Setsuo Hamanaka is a hell of a good painter and I LOVE his stuff. Not only he draws beautifully, but he also paints fish that are not easy to find elsewhere and that any lover of Popping and Jigging game chase the most. 
I've been guiding people to the tropics for 10 years now. Hunting large GTs, Dogtooth Tunas, Cuberas, Yellowfin Tunas and alike is not a kids' game: you need tackle, strenght, stamina and a good deal of technique. 
Three or four fishermen casting from one relatively small boat all day long are potentially dangerous for each other. Even though they are the most skilled guys, the best casters and the most careful people, they still are human beings, and eventually make mistakes. In addiction to them, there's other people working on the boat. Usually at least one skipper and one mate, and they take care o us, all day, to make our sport more enjoyable. 
This is my friend Albert showing a decent size Barracuda caught on a jig. The fish pulled hard and fooled me into thinking it was another beast. At the beginning we all said "Doogtooth" because the drag was screaming pretty loud and the line running fast, but the lack of stamina of the fish put our hopes down a bit. A nice fish nevertheless. Many people hate Barracuda and I think they're quite good fun critters
Eugeni in a tough situation, A GT took his lure and is heading back o the reef. The heavy drag settings are very tricky to use, especially when there's no gunwale to support your knees.
Snappers are always among my favourite fish to shoot. Then storm helped creating a bit more of atmosphere.
The local band playing at night, around the campfire in a desert island
