It was my first time out on a tuna trip. I heard stories of the hustle and bustle and overall mayhem of getting into a tuna “boil” and wanted to see what the hub bub was all about.

After rounding up some friends we chartered a boat out of San Diego for some albacore action. Most of us had never gone out on a tuna trip before and we were anxious to get in some action.

Recent fishing reports told us that there was more than a good chance we’d hit a school or two, but at the same time we were ready to get skunked just in case.

After a night of a few beers in the galley we all got some shuteye below deck while the boat drove to the fishing grounds overnight.

It was around 4 or 5am when the bell first rang. We hit a school of tuna! I shouted down to my friends to get their lazy butts up from bed – the first mate was busy chucking bait to keep the tuna in a frenzy. The sea was boiling from all the tuna swirling around just beneath the waves.

After baiting our circle hooks we were ready to catch some tuna. Bam! Before Iknew it I was hooked on to tuna. A few moments later all my friends around me also got fish on the line. It was then when all hell broke lose.

As any party boat veteran knows the biggest problem with a party boat is tangled lines from the angler next to you. This is even further compounded by the line screaming out from the fish you have on line. Nothing cuts a line like butter than a screaming line running across other lines. Something I got to see in person.

“Follow your fish!” the deckhands yelled. Unfortunately a friend of mine was too groggy to understand or was too excited to register that thought when her line ran across a whole row of fishing lines. “Ping…ping…ping” There went three lines and some rather disgruntled anglers.

Soon the air was full of shouts of “Over” and “Under” as anglers dipped under each other to follow their fish. The “tuna shuffle” its called. Rather like a mad square dance of anglers dipping and craning with each other on a deck cresting and diving to the whims of the ocean.

After about 15 minutes of hauling line to get the tuna up I yelled “Color!” – a term used to indicate your fish is up and ready to be gaffed. I bagged a nice 30lber but it wasn’t over yet. The frenzy was still on and the deckhand had already baited my line and I was at it again within another 5 minutes. I had to tell you honestly that I wanted to take a break – as hungover and groggy spiked with an adrenaline rush - I was not at my peak form. Neither were some of my compatriots evidenced by them streaking to the nearest latrine on the boat after hauling in their fish.

By the end of the boil we all ended up with some pretty good sized fish and everyone had at least caught one. A good time was had by all and it was Miller Time – even if it was 8am in the morning.

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