The thing about fishing is that other fishermen rarely if ever will give you reliable info that will put you on the fish. I mean they will elude to the general vicinity but will always leave out a small detail, kinda like a chef leaving out the secret ingredient to a recipe. Ahi fishing is probably the most secretive of all. So when the Ball Boyz and I picked up on some cryptic chatter on a local fishing forum about somebody who had just scooped not one but three of the prized fire fish on his last trip it got us more than motivated to head out. Sure it was a few days later but Friday morning provided a perfect window from work and weather and off we went. Uncle the Ball Capo recruited another boat to join us in the hunt and we met before dawn at the Westside harbor. With radio’s set to channel 18 we set off in hopes of landing the big one. Our tag team plan was cut really short when Capt. Joe and first mate Arnold called in not thirty minutes later saying they hooked up a 400lb Marlin just outside the harbor and were heading home to celebrate. Fuckers. We congratulated them and then motored on to the numbers where we heard there was action. At the 20 mile mark just as promised we find birds and porpoise and 6 other boats… we are late. Usually birds and porpoise would mean Ahi strikes but after three hours and no boats hooking up we decide to head in… it’s a three hour ride back to the harbor. Oh well can’t catch them sitting on the couch. Cruising in we keep complete silence as each of us if hoping for a mercy strike to answer our fishing prayers. As Uncle naps and I occupy my time between taking flicks and cuzzo lights we hear Johnny boy at the helm yell “rubbish”. First pass we get hit and we get a Mahi in the boat and get rid off that awful skunk smell. Thank God.