Powerful albies tough, tasty
By CHARLES WALSH
Oh," said the guy across the street on morning after I told him the big thrill for surf casters these days was to hook a false albacore on light tackle, "that some kind of tuna fish?"
"Well, not really," I answered, "the false albacore is really a member of the mackerel family but it looks so much like a tuna fish they call it albacore. The 'false' part is just so nobody thinks it really is a tuna."
I wanted to tell him it was like if he called himself Brad Pitt, he would be introduced as a false Brad Pitt.
The guy just looked at me like I had taken leave of my senses, muttering something about the what's point of fishing for a fake fish.
"Why don't they just give it a name of its own instead of borrowing another fishes name then denying it?" he added.
"You know," I said, placing my fly rod in the back of my car. "I haven't the slightest idea. But I'll tell you this, when you hook one you don't ask questions."
"Good luck" he said as he walked away shaking his head.
The false albacore, a.k.a. albie, little tunny, tunoid, fat Albert, and football, is a powerful ocean fish that, as stated above, resembles a small tuna; that is, oval-shaped with a large eye and a quarter-moon tail that can drive the body in front of it at incredible speeds.
Albies often use that tail to strip all the line from anglers' reels, leaving them with a smoking drag and a broken heart.
Typically, when hooked, albies take a long, and I mean very long, run. After that it will either stop dead and slug it out long distance or run directly back toward the anglers, forcing them to madly reel in lest he become wrapped like a mummy in excess line.
Another only slightly shorter run is usually in order before the fish finally gives up.
As late as the 1980s, you rarely heard anglers mention false albacore. The fish's migratory patterns seemed keep them far from shore, and on the rare occasions they did come in, it was usually for a quick hit-and-go on the bait balls at Montauk or some other place where its favorite forage food, the bay anchovy, gather in great numbers.
In recent years the False Albacore Central Committee seems to have passed a motion to increase their range and the amount of time they spend in waters where fishermen can cast a lure or fly at them.
Today the albies begin to show in northeast waters in July, steadily increasing in number and voraciousness until late September and early October, when they go on a feeding frenzy. The past two weeks Montauk has been alive with feeding albie schools. These days many fall fishing excursions exclusively target albies.
But whatever you do, don't confuse false albacore with the Atlantic bonito, also called "greenies" because that's the color you see when the sun strike their iridescent skin. Bonito are usually, but not always, smaller than albacore but have straight horizontal markings on their sides as opposed to the albie's dark squiggly worm-like markings. Oh and bonito are one the finest eating fish on the planet.
I instantly regretted my rash decision to release a large Atlantic bonito I caught at Great Point on Nantucket last week. As it swam away, I knew I had given up a great dinner.
Although most veteran albie anglers will tell you the fish's oily dark red meat is simply inedible, I beg to differ. One night, just for our own amusement, we popped two albie steaks on a very hot hibachi. Suffice to say, the flames from the oil hitting the hot coals were spectacular, leaping two feet high and lighting up the entire yard. Once the pyrotechnics were over, though, we divvied up the well-cooked meat. Everyone at the gathering, even those who were not big fish eaters, agreed it was quite tasty. Actually, it tasted like the expensive tuna stakes you get in upscale restaurants.
In this area, Capt. Bob Turley of Stratford is one of the top albie casers around. Using both spin and fly tackle, Turley usually runs his 23-foot Regulator out of the Connecticut River to Long Island's South Shore. If the albies are not plentiful in Plum Gut, he will move farther east to the South Fork or even to Montauk itself.
False albacore do come into Long Island Sound but not in great numbers. The Eastern Sound around Stonington and inside Fisher's Island offers the best shot at taking an albie from a boat. Spin casters use a slim metal lure called Deadly Dicks; while fly casters like to throw tiny epoxy flies that imitate the bay anchovy.
Contact Charles Walsh at cwalsh@ctpost.com
By CHARLES WALSH
Oh," said the guy across the street on morning after I told him the big thrill for surf casters these days was to hook a false albacore on light tackle, "that some kind of tuna fish?"
"Well, not really," I answered, "the false albacore is really a member of the mackerel family but it looks so much like a tuna fish they call it albacore. The 'false' part is just so nobody thinks it really is a tuna."
I wanted to tell him it was like if he called himself Brad Pitt, he would be introduced as a false Brad Pitt.
The guy just looked at me like I had taken leave of my senses, muttering something about the what's point of fishing for a fake fish.
"Why don't they just give it a name of its own instead of borrowing another fishes name then denying it?" he added.
"You know," I said, placing my fly rod in the back of my car. "I haven't the slightest idea. But I'll tell you this, when you hook one you don't ask questions."
"Good luck" he said as he walked away shaking his head.
The false albacore, a.k.a. albie, little tunny, tunoid, fat Albert, and football, is a powerful ocean fish that, as stated above, resembles a small tuna; that is, oval-shaped with a large eye and a quarter-moon tail that can drive the body in front of it at incredible speeds.
Albies often use that tail to strip all the line from anglers' reels, leaving them with a smoking drag and a broken heart.
Typically, when hooked, albies take a long, and I mean very long, run. After that it will either stop dead and slug it out long distance or run directly back toward the anglers, forcing them to madly reel in lest he become wrapped like a mummy in excess line.
Another only slightly shorter run is usually in order before the fish finally gives up.
As late as the 1980s, you rarely heard anglers mention false albacore. The fish's migratory patterns seemed keep them far from shore, and on the rare occasions they did come in, it was usually for a quick hit-and-go on the bait balls at Montauk or some other place where its favorite forage food, the bay anchovy, gather in great numbers.
In recent years the False Albacore Central Committee seems to have passed a motion to increase their range and the amount of time they spend in waters where fishermen can cast a lure or fly at them.
Today the albies begin to show in northeast waters in July, steadily increasing in number and voraciousness until late September and early October, when they go on a feeding frenzy. The past two weeks Montauk has been alive with feeding albie schools. These days many fall fishing excursions exclusively target albies.
But whatever you do, don't confuse false albacore with the Atlantic bonito, also called "greenies" because that's the color you see when the sun strike their iridescent skin. Bonito are usually, but not always, smaller than albacore but have straight horizontal markings on their sides as opposed to the albie's dark squiggly worm-like markings. Oh and bonito are one the finest eating fish on the planet.
I instantly regretted my rash decision to release a large Atlantic bonito I caught at Great Point on Nantucket last week. As it swam away, I knew I had given up a great dinner.
Although most veteran albie anglers will tell you the fish's oily dark red meat is simply inedible, I beg to differ. One night, just for our own amusement, we popped two albie steaks on a very hot hibachi. Suffice to say, the flames from the oil hitting the hot coals were spectacular, leaping two feet high and lighting up the entire yard. Once the pyrotechnics were over, though, we divvied up the well-cooked meat. Everyone at the gathering, even those who were not big fish eaters, agreed it was quite tasty. Actually, it tasted like the expensive tuna stakes you get in upscale restaurants.
In this area, Capt. Bob Turley of Stratford is one of the top albie casers around. Using both spin and fly tackle, Turley usually runs his 23-foot Regulator out of the Connecticut River to Long Island's South Shore. If the albies are not plentiful in Plum Gut, he will move farther east to the South Fork or even to Montauk itself.
False albacore do come into Long Island Sound but not in great numbers. The Eastern Sound around Stonington and inside Fisher's Island offers the best shot at taking an albie from a boat. Spin casters use a slim metal lure called Deadly Dicks; while fly casters like to throw tiny epoxy flies that imitate the bay anchovy.
Contact Charles Walsh at cwalsh@ctpost.com