Look who's back

It's no longer necessary to venture to tropical waters in order to catch a monster tuna, says Jonathan Young, as he attempts to land a big-game fish in Falmouth Bay

- Jonathan Young

NINE o'clock, 200 yards!' yells the lookout on the flying bridge. There they were, a maelstrom of bluefin tuna crashing into baitfish, scimitar tails scything the water, every fish more than 100lb.

It was all slightly unreal. Apart from conger eels, common skate and some shark species, we don't expect to catch monsters in British seas. Big-game fishing is associated with warm waters, Hawaiian shirts, Bermuda shorts and a rum-punch sundowner. Yet, here were scores of tuna in Falmouth Bay, Cornwall, on a grey October day.

We were aboard Sailfish, a 34ft specialist big-game boat owned and skippered by Peter Hyde and crewed by Mark Gibbens and Pip Earl. When ashore, Mr Hyde grows Christmas trees, Mr Gibbens has a country-side management company and Mr Earl is a builder in London, following a stint as a Life Guards officer. Afloat, they are hardcore tuna men, bonded by a passion for the fish and the fishing.

'I started doing it commercially in April 2024,' reveals Mr Hyde, above the purr of the twin 260hp Volvo engines as we leave Mylor harbour. 'It's such an amazing fishery. Some days you'll spot tuna "busting" the sea's surface as far as the eye can see. We average three a day, although sometimes we catch tons, from 100lb-700lb.' Bigger fish are out there: in 2022, a 900lb leviathan was caught off the Pembrokeshire coast. Such fish have not been seen since the days of the old British Tunny Club, which operated out of Scarborough, North Yorkshire, in the 1930s until it came to an end with the collapse of the herring stocks. The last huzzah took place on August 25, 1950, when H. E. Weatherley, a prolific club member, landed four bluefin tuna of 589lb, 545lb, 743lb and 714lb—all before breakfast.