The Observer. (La Grande, Or.) 1968-current, December 31, 2021, WEEKEND EDITION, Page 8, Image 8

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    OUTDOORS & REC
B2 — THE OBSERVER & BAKER CITY HERALD
FRIDAY, DECEMBER 31, 2021
HAWAII
Continued from Page B1
I brought the light bait
rod and heavy moray rod,
but he suggested we start
out whipping. Though
I’d brought a rod well-
suited for whipping to
Hawaii and used it fre-
quently, I’d left it in the car
this one time, fi guring I
could use a medium-light
setup if I needed to. If I
caught another small liz-
ardfi sh, I would hardly be
undergunned.
Whipping
Aquamarine waters
mesmerized me. The geo-
logically fresh shore-
line was reminiscent of a
snowmelt river’s work in
a just-forming canyon. I
mounted a rocky ledge,
checked my footing and
drank in the beauty and
contrast of the coastline
at my feet. With the surf
rushing in and out of the
rocks, varying topography
and submerged rock piles,
I read the water. I cast out,
instantly missing my other
rod. As I jerked the Rapala
back towards me, I fi gured
that if there were preda-
tory fi sh here, they’d be in
this pocket.
I hadn’t cast fi ve times
when a predatory fi sh
absolutely crushed my lure
and went on a blistering
run. The bass rod nearly
doubled as 20-pound
braid fl ew off the reel. The
waves were crashing hard,
and as the fi sh zipped in
and out of the shoreline
breaks, I had to move to
keep it from diving under
rocks and slicing the line.
I kicked off my fl ip fl ops
behind me and went bare-
foot, moving where I
needed to handle the raw
Luke Ovgard/Contributed Photo
Macyn Nagao/Contributed Photo
Not only is Macyn a great fi sherman, he takes decent photos, too. This bluefi n trevally
I caught whipping was probably the highlight of my trip to Kona.
power of what had to be a
20-pound fi sh.
It was pulling almost to
the breaking point, but I
refused to let my gear fail.
Twice the fi sh spooled me,
and as I thumbed the knot
on my spool, I was able to
pull enough line back onto
the reel that it wasn’t a
problem. Gingerly, I tight-
ened my drag and wound
the fi sh in closer, closer.
We didn’t have a gaff or
a net or beachhead, and
the fi sh was both fi ve feet
below me and too heavy to
just lift up.
Out of options, I
climbed down the rocky
staircase when the
tide went out and then
brought the fi sh in with
the rising water. I used
the fi sh’s tenacity and the
momentum of the wave to
make it swim into a crack
in two rocks where Macyn
and I landed it and carried
it up the shoreline.
It wasn’t 20 pounds. It
wasn’t 50 pounds. It wasn’t
quite fi ve, but it fought
unlike any fi ve-pound fi sh
I’ve ever caught. Even New
Zealand’s kahawai — the
strongest fi ght per-pound
I’d yet experienced —
Hawaii is home to one of the most sustainable fi sheries in the world because anglers
eat almost anything edible they catch instead of overfi shing one or two popular spe-
cies. This bluefi n trevally was phenomenal even though jacks in other parts of the
world are not popular table fi sh.
paled in comparison. And
virtually every fi sh paled
in comparison to the vivid
cerulean fi ns that give the
bluefi n trevally, omilu, its
name.
Macyn intended to
make sashimi out of it, so
we found a pool above the
tideline and placed it there
to stay fresh while we con-
tinued fi shing. Whipping
yielded a bluespotted cor-
netfi sh, an absolutely wild
looking beast, but then the
bite died.
We switched back
to bait and caught and
released our fi ll of small
fi sh before calling it a
night.
Fresh fi sh
Ideally, for sushi or
sashimi, you want to brush
a fresh fi sh with salt to
draw out the moisture and
sit it in a cooler or refrig-
erator for a few days to
let the muscle fi bers relax.
Sadly, it was my last night,
and I wanted a reward
after all that whipping
before fl ying home. Macyn
obliged.
Though the omilu
was still a little tough, it
tasted delicious. We paired
it with some chips and
fresh ceviche made from
Hawaiian chub, a small
mostly vegetarian fi sh pop-
ular with locals to com-
plete an incredible meal
we’d endured one whipping
after another to experience.
———
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