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Bluefin tuna are now present off the South West Coast in huge numbers during late Summer and Autumn generating a great deal of interest amongst sea anglers consequentially bringing a valuable boost to the local economy.

These immensely powerful fish were once prolific in the North Sea feasting upon the herring shoals that migrated to the area each autumn. The Yorkshire seaside town of Scarborough became the home of the British Tunny Club in 1933 and for the pre-war years became the destination for the rich and famous to battle with these leviathans fishing from rowing boats using strong tackle specially built for the purpose. There was a cessation of fishing during the war years and a revival of the sport following these dark times until the early fifties when the fishery collapsed due to the overfishing of herring.

Whilst tuna were caught off the Yorkshire coast they were also sighted off the Cornish coast and in 1936 several fish were hooked and lost. Brigadier J A L Caunter in his book Shark Angling In Great Britain records numerous sightings off Looe during the late forties.

My own interest in tunny was fuelled by books telling of this historic fishing. Tunny – The Rise and Fall of Britain’s Biggest Fish written by Chris Berry and The Glory Days of the Giant Scarborough Tunny by Mark Ross are both excellent tomes that recount those historic days of battles with giant fish. Both of these books were published in 2010 before the current revival in tunny catches.

Fortunately todays anglers are wiser and all tuna are carefully revived and released at the side of the boat. Tagging of these majestic fish has provided a wealth of valuable scientific data that can be used to ensure the correct management of valuable stocks.

Today anglers targeting these fish are provided with top quality tackle and fish from well-equipped Charter boats. All the skill rests with the skipper locating the fish. All the angler does is bring the hooked fish to the side of the boat. A task that brings a sense of trepidation for these immensely powerful fish can exceed 1000lbs with 400lb plus fish relatively common.

Whilst many cite global warming as the likely reason for the tunny revival this is unlikely to be a major factor. It is more likely to be a change in the migration of food fish and conservation efforts across the globe. There are concerns at the impact of these huge shoals of tuna on stocks of bass and migrating salmon and sea trout. As an angler I relish this opportunity and hope to savour the experience of a lifetime.

Looe on the South Cornish coast is a seaside town that is very close to my heart as it was here close to sixty years ago that my angling journey started with mackerel and garfish from the Banjo Pier.

I climbed on to the Charter boat ‘Sowenna’ skippered by Dan Margetts in mid-October with four fellow anglers. Jeff Pearce, James Coggan, Rory Nugent and Bruce Elston. We were fortunate to be getting out to sea; for the previous day had seen named Storm Ashley sweep up across the UK with winds to over 60mph. Whilst a residual swell remained winds were light and from the South West with sunshine promised for later in the day.

The tuna fishing had been exceptionally good prior to the storm and we hoped that the strong winds hadn’t broken up the bait fish shoals and the hunting tuna.

A moderate swell was rolling shoreward as we headed out anticipating an angling adventure. Never having caught a tuna before there was a touch of trepidation. Would I be physically able to deal with such a powerful fish? I had seen two caught on previous trips and knew that these were seriously strong testers of both angler and tackle.

I watched the horizon and spotted a large gathering of active birds. I immediately alerted skipper Dan and John Mc Master and we steamed optimistically towards the activity.

Beneath the swooping melee of birds the surface was disturbed as tuna smashed into shoals of bait fish.

The trolling gear was sent astern spreaders of bright lures with a stinger in their midst. We drew numbers to see who would be first. Jeff pulled 1, Bruce 2, myself 3, Rory 4 and James 5.

Tuna broke the surface tantalisingly close as birds continued to swoop and dive into the water. After a while the shoal dispersed and both hunters and hunted disappeared.

Dan suggested we head West to an area that had been proving productive over recent weeks. The skippers all work together sharing knowledge for there is a common desire to see this fishery prosper and as the fish are I believe generally nomadic there are no hotspots as such.

After steaming for ten miles or so we again spotted active birds and tuna along with a pod of dolphins.

Again the gear was sent astern and the steady troll resumed. Tuna broke the surface on a regular basis all around the boat.

We chatted, waiting in anticipation, Dan provided tea and coffee at regular intervals. Gulls, storm petrels, a lone skua and gannets filled the sky.

The tuna were here in numbers and from time to time a huge fish would crash out of the water its sides glistening in the sunlight before crashing back into the calming sea.

Suddenly a screaming reel set off cries of “tuna !”

Jeff who was harnessed and ready stood beside the screaming reel waiting for the first run to slow and for the other rods to be cleared ready for the battle ahead.

We all watched excitedly giving Jeff encouragement as he took the rod and commenced battle. Half an hour or so later the tuna was boat side and Dan grabbed the leader signifying that the battle was won. Sadly the fish detached itself at this point and Jeff did not get a picture.

It was Bruce’s turn next and we had to wait another couple of hours for the next fish. This was Bruce’s first tuna and he played the fish with determination savouring every moment.

The tuna was eventually brought boat side where it drenched us all as its powerful tail thrashed the water to foam. The tuna was estimated at 160lb its flanks of silver, emerald and gun metal grey a sight to behold. We admired its beauty as the fish was allowed to recover whilst we captured valuable images of the triumphant moment to store in life’s memory trove.

It was my turn next and I waited with mixed emotions. The sky was now a vivid blue the sun slowly sinking illuminating the vast seascape as the day ebbed away. Activity had by now eased the tuna and their prey had moved off. Pessimism was starting to battle with my expectation.

A half a mile or so closer to the shore we again spotted a large gathering of birds. John and Dan scanned the horizon with binoculars and we once again set off for a fresh area.

Gannets dived into the sea, gulls and other birds swooped in a feeding frenzy. Tuna broke the surface and the lures trailed through the feeding tuna to no avail.

Time was ticking, Dan really wanted to get me a tuna waiting and persevering with dogged determination and belief.

As my hope slowly evaporated it happened! The line flicked out of the clip the reel screamed and I took my place beside the rod and screaming reel. As the run eased I ensured the line remained tight whilst the other tackles were removed from the vast playing field.

I took the rod from the holder, Dan and John assisted in clipping the reel to the harness and I leant back to take the strain. Far away on the straining line a huge fish pulled back. The next half an hour was a game of give and take with line regained inch at a time with the powerful heavy fish taking it back with short powerful runs.

I savoured every moment of what seemed like the summit of an angling life. The sun slowly sinking towards the horizon as the fish that filled my dreams was tiring. Eventually the leader appeared and we all peered expectantly into the depths, the battle was seemingly won. Then unexpectedly the rod sprang back and that empty feeling of loss only an angler knows descended. The hook hold had given way the fish gaining freedom tantalizingly close to the boat. Dan and John congratulated me on getting my tuna. It was handshakes and congratulations for in one sense the deal was done I had caught a tuna.

“If you were intending to release the fish, then the leader wound to the rod tip or being grasped by a deckie can fairly be considered a caught fish.”

In footballing terms it seemed like a one all draw for it was neither a loss or a victory.

We steamed back to Looe the sun setting in the West as familiar landmarks on the Cornish coast passed by in the golden light of dusk. Gannets, glided over the calm waters I relived the drama of the day enjoying the company of fellow anglers vowing to return again to finish my quest.

Our son James had been mountain biking whilst I fished; he had successfully caught a 300lb plus tuna the previous year. As we approached the iconic Banjo Pier it was good see James sat rod in hand fishing. It was there that my lifelong love of angling had started with my own father. With the passion still burning strong I vow to return even as life’s autumnal years descend.

How long tuna will remain in British waters only history will reveal for there are no guarantees in this ever changing world we live in.

Many thanks to our son James Thomas for providing this vivid account of our trip in search of tuna off the Cornish Coast.

Arriving in the harbour of Looe with the sun glistening off the water was a great sign for the days fishing ahead. However, the evidence of recent storms was still prevalent with sea weed scattered across the beach.

A quick visit to the pasty shop to stock up for the day and we were ready to board Sowenna. As we waited on the quayside fellow anglers Jeff Pierce and James Coggan turned up and we were all full of excitement and anticipation of the day ahead.

A rainbow 🌈 hung across the river, again a sign of the inclement and changeable weather that November often brings. We were all feeling fortunate to be heading out to sea with the chance of an encounter with a bluefin tuna.

Climbing down the ladder and stepping aboard we met the team Dan Margetts and John McMaster who were very welcoming and busy preparing the boat and fishing tackle ready to head out to sea. Having never been tuna fishing before I was marvelling at the tall booms that are setup to trail squid lures behind the boat and the sheer size of the reels on the rods that were shining in the sun. As we left the harbour we chatted about how we were going to play the day and I was extremely grateful and a little nervous that I was given the opportunity of the first fish. Thank you to Jeff, James and my Dad for allowing me pole position on the day and the chance of a fish of a lifetime.

We headed out past Looe island with Dan at the helm chatting through the plan for the day. John set about explaining to me how to get ready to play a tuna; harness on and make sure you’re ready at all times as if one takes it’ll all happen in a flash. The main thing is to not give the fish any slack line and keep steady pressure on at all times.

My memories of fish I had lost in the past through bad angling started to resurface in my head; a huge halibut that had broken free in Norway due to a bad knot and a couch’s bream I lost after a clutch malfunction. I think it is more curiosity of what these fish would have looked like and how much they would have weighed and the missed opportunity that does pain anyone that has lost a significant fish that was the target of an adventure. Sometimes you only have one shot as an opportunity presents itself for a catch and you want to do everything you can to secure the prize.

As an infrequent and novice angler I was feeling the pressure of being given first opportunity of the day and determined if I did get a chance of a tuna that I wouldn’t mess it up due to a lack of concentration.

The hard work and passion of the crew aboard Sowenna was evident and the dedication to be able to target bluefin tuna through the CHART programme and the hours at sea certainly cannot be underestimated. After an hour cruise into rougher waters, we were ready to start fishing. The method involves trolling for the fish with the engine continually rumbling away. The large booms were sent out and the line carefully played out on the reel until 4 rods were all fishing with the lures trailing behind the boat carefully arranged to avoid any tangles. The swell was gently rolling the boat with the odd slightly bigger wave chopping into the side bringing on the feeling of your stomach rising and the occasional clatter of crockery being moved around inside the cabin.

Stories of previous fishing trips were flowing and Dan decided to put out the shout for a cuppa tea. With that the Rod at the back of the boat bent over and the reel screamed off. John and I rushed to the stern and the reel then stopped screaming momentarily, had it come off? John’s experience kicked in as he wound the reel furiously to take up the slack line. The fish had started swimming towards the boat which is a nerve wracking situation as this could create slack line with a chance of the hook popping out. John regained control and passed the rod and reel over to me. The fish then set off on a charge peeling line off the reel with ease.

I was thinking of the battle and how long it would take to regain this line and I knew that a lot of effort and concentration would be required. The fish turned several times trying to create slack line but every time I managed to stay on top of the fish; I think spurred on by memories of previously lost fish. On this occasion, the tackle was expertly put together by Dan and John so an equipment failure was unlikely meaning it was up to me to stay in the moment and focus on the rod, reel , line and fish.

The next 25 minutes it was like the rest of the world had disappeared and all that mattered for that brief battle was hauling the fish in. Modern day life is so busy it’s rare to find a zen moment where you can truly switch off. I think that’s one of the things that draws people, including me, to amateur sport, whether that is negotiating a tricky section on the mountain bike, batting or bowling in a tight cricket match, felling a large tree or playing in a fish. It’s during the period of truly being in the zone with the adrenaline pumping that I feel most alive.

After around 20 minutes of slowly gaining using the rolling sea to my advantage and the harness setup to slowly gain back line that the fish had earlier furiously stripped from the reel, the leader was in sight. After several circles around the boat the fish came into view for the first time; a lean magnificent silver bar full of muscle.

A short time later, the fish was secured alongside, a relieved feeling that I hadn’t let myself or the others on the boat down was the overwhelming emotion and a pure admiration for such a huge powerful creature that we were all grateful to witness and have a close encounter with.

The recovery of the fish began with it held steady next to the boat with time for some photos and for the fish to be tagged as part of the CHART program for scientific research which will be used to learn about the distribution of fish and their migration back into British waters.

I opened the door, staring at the fish and wondering how old it might be and how far it may have travelled. As I looked up to the camera one of the infrequent waves with a little more chop rolled in and covered me in icy cold water.

After regaining my composure, a few good photos were captured and we were ready to release the fish back to the depths of the ocean. With a powerful turn the fish swam out of sight. As someone recently said fishing trips are often about the memories that are made and this is certainly one that will live with me. The rest of the day passed by and I was gutted that no-one else had the opportunity to hook up with a tuna and felt a little guilty that I had been given the only chance of the day.

My dad had said before that if he had caught a tuna he would have retired from tuna fishing. Dan joked that he would make sure he was always number 4 so that he had to keep coming back. As we headed back to the harbour the light began to fade and thoughts started to turn to the journey home and the week of work ahead. Another adventure over and more great memories made! Thanks to Jeff, James, Dan, John and Dad for making it such an enjoyable trip; a trip I’ll never forget.