I have yet to experience a destination I crave to fish more than the Northeast Canyons. It is an extraordinary place filled with mystery and is the home to some of the tastiest fish in the sea. One of the last truly wild places accessible to anglers in the Northeast, every trip is an adventure.
About 100 miles offshore, the warm, tropical Gulf Stream currents collide with a massive wall—the edge of North America. Water depths go from the great abyss to 400 feet deep in a matter of miles. The result is a massive upwelling of water, and a collision of warm and cold currents, resulting in a magnificent ecosystem where some of the most incredible animals on the planet reside.
There is no other place that makes me feel so small and where the vastness of the Atlantic ocean seems so immense. With the last reaches of civilization over a hundred miles away, the nighttime sky is as black as coal, the stars shine indescribably bright, and my insignificance in the overall scope of the universe becomes brutally clear.
I rarely sleep at night when I’m out there, mainly out of fear of missing out on something spectacular … catching a fish is merely a bonus. What is equally satisfying to me are the meteor showers, the solitude, the late-night banter on the VHF, and the sharks, rays, and porpoises that come to check us out during the night in the middle of nowhere.
An ocean sometimes seemingly devoid of life for most of the daytime experiences a reawakening once the sun dips below the horizon. The greatest migration on earth takes place every night in the open ocean, when baitfish and squid rise from the abyss to feed at the surface during the wee hours.
When I’m not checking on baits, peeking at the radar, or scanning the sonar for targets to drop a jig on, I spend most of the night hunting like an owl, armed with a long-handled butterfly net that I use to capture pelagic drifters smitten by the boat’s bright underwater lights. Observing the exotic nocturnal life that’s attracted to the lights is akin to going to an aquarium. Just when I think I’ve seen it all, I see something new, and more often than not, it’s something weird. Juvenile flying fish, filefish, tilefish, snake mackerel, mahi, and more seek asylum under the boat’s hull, hoping to avoid being annihilated by larger predators. If I’m quick enough with the butterfly net, I can create a terrific temporary aquarium in a five-gallon bucket.
Then, there are the big fish we are after. They have adapted to a violent life in the vast open ocean, and most are drastically different from their relatives found inshore. There are fish sporting fierce swords off the tips of their snouts. There are fish that can fly through the air, and fish that can swim miles below the surface. There are mahi, the chameleons of the sea, that can change color at a moment’s notice, from green to silver to yellow. There are wahoo, lightning fast, equipped with an ominous set of needle-sharp teeth; they are perhaps the meanest fish in the sea.
However, a trip to the Canyons is not just about the fish. It’s an escape from work, home, the phone, summer traffic, and life in general. It’s an adventure—a world of awe that most people will never be fortunate enough to witness in real life. Everything is different. The birds, the whales, the porpoises, the jellyfish, the sunsets, the night sky, the never-ending horizon, are all unlike anything experienced in everyday life.
And, what about the other people on the trip? On just about every trip I take to the Canyons, it seems I’m joined by at least one total stranger; afterward, I often feel as if I’ve gained a new friend. Offshore fishing is more of a team effort than any other form of angling. Everyone must work together in order to be successful, so there is no competition. I believe this creates a more rewarding experience than other forms of fishing.
What about the food? Everyone brings treats because the Canyons are the place where we devour all the stuff our wives won’t let us eat at home. Ho Hos, Ding Dongs, Funyuns, linguica dogs, and/or bologna … anything is fair game. In its own weird way, every trip is a culinary adventure, and everything seems to taste better when we’re floating in 2,000 feet of water.
Last year I was fortunate to make three trips to the Canyons with On The Water contributing writer Larry Backman. His boat, Skipjack, a 36-foot Northern Bay Downeaster, is one of the fishiest vessels around. Larry was one of the pioneers of “deep dropping” for daytime swordfish in the Northeast, and over the past decade, he has been working diligently at refining the craft.
On a typical trip, we leave the dock around 5 p.m. Larry cruises at running speed until dusk, at which point he throttles back to 8 knots, which usually gets us to the Canyons just before dawn. This slow steam is a great strategy for several reasons. We don’t take a pounding, everyone gets some sleep on the way out, a bunch of money is saved on fuel, and perhaps most importantly, if we happen to hit a floating log or some other debris, any damage will be minimal.
We took our first trip in late May. There was an early push of warm water that had reached Atlantis Canyon and looked promising, but without any reports from others who’d made it out there, the trip was a gamble. We arrived at about 3 a.m., earlier than anticipated, so we set out three rods baited with large rigged squid. Just before sunrise, we got a bite and bagged an 80-plus-pound bluefin. We trolled at dawn to no avail, and then made the decision to try deep dropping for swords. Our gamble paid off—on the second drift we hooked up to something big.
Seeing the electric purple glow of a lit-up swordfish under the boat in crystal-clear water is a sight to behold. It was a big, mean fish, well over 200 pounds, and it wanted nothing to do with us. Despite several close calls at boatside, we managed to sink a harpoon into it. It was impressive, the biggest sword I’ve ever laid eyes on.
With two big fish in the boat, the fish box was maxed out, so we decided to head back to port earlier than anticipated, which is always a good problem to have.
Our second trip in June yielded only a single fish, but it was a 100-plus-pound bigeye tuna, which I think is the tastiest tuna in the sea.
On our third trip, we hit the jackpot on yellowfin tuna and maxed out the fish box once again. We had a close encounter with a whale shark, maybe the most remarkable fish in the sea. We saw dozens of sperm whales and a Cuvier’s beaked whale, a first for me, and we were followed for miles by a south polar skua, a magnificent predatory sea bird that had traveled all the way from Antarctica.
Last summer, I ate tuna and/or swordfish about four to five nights a week; it was a staple in my diet. There was also a solid inshore yellowfin bite last year, which delivered a never-ending pile of tuna steaks caught by friends and co-workers. I ate so much tuna and swordfish that the mercury levels in my blood skyrocketed, and I was forced to refrain from eating fish for the next six months. I’m happy to report that my mercury levels are back to normal, and I very much look forward to catching, and eating, more of the tastiest fish in the sea.
If you’ve never fished the Canyons, do yourself a favor and find a way to get out there. It’s a magical place and creates memories that will never be forgotten.
After getting the results from my most recent mercury test in April, my first stop was the local fish market, where I bought a pound of yellowfin tuna. Last summer, tuna burgers were a regular in my diet and I’d been craving one. That night, my wife challenged me to a cook-off. I made my All-American tuna burger, and she crafted what she called a Big Kahuna tuna burger. There was no loser.
(Makes 2 to 4 burgers)
Mix the tuna in a bowl with the following seven ingredients. (Yes, the cheese goes inside the burger. It helps hold it together, and adds a nice crust on the exterior. Feel free to add more cheese on top at the end.) Form into patties, sprinkle both sides with salt and pepper, and refrigerate for a half hour. Cook the bacon in a cast-iron skillet, then remove and discard the fat. Turn the heat to high. Once the pan starts smoking, sear the burgers for 3 minutes on each side or until they register 100 degrees in the thickest part. Place them on the toasted buns, top with bacon, and fix ‘em up with your favorite toppings: ketchup, mustard, mayo, pickles—whatever makes you happy. If you closed your eyes, you would have a hard time realizing this was not a real cheeseburger.
Lettuce, sliced thin
Mix the tuna in a bowl with the following eight ingredients. Form into patties, sprinkle both sides with salt, and refrigerate for a half hour. Get your grill as hot as possible, clean the grates, and sear the burgers for 3 minutes on each side or until they register 100 degrees in the thickest part. Place them on the toasted buns, and top with lettuce and a drizzle of mango ketchup. This is a tasty burger.
Mango Ketchup
Mix together all ingredients and puree in a food processor. Add it to a small saucepan and simmer on low heat for about 10 minutes. Season to taste with salt and pepper and allow to cool.
Marinate the tuna steaks in soy sauce for 30 minutes at room temperature, turning them halfway through. Mix together the honey, vinegar, and Sriracha, and dredge both sides of the tuna steaks in this concoction. Put the sesame seeds in a shallow bowl and press both sides of the tuna steaks into them until well coated. Get your grill as hot as possible (I prefer charcoal over gas for grilling fish as it cooks much hotter). Clean the grates and coat both sides of the steaks with a copious amount of cooking spray. Sear for about two minutes per side—I aim for an internal temperature of about 85 to 90 degrees in the thickest part. Slice and serve over rice noodles and some stir-fried vegetables.
Heat half the olive oil on medium-low heat and sauté the garlic and pepper flakes for 2 minutes. Add the olives and tomatoes, then cook for 1 minute. Remove from heat and place the contents in a bowl. Wipe down the pan and heat the remaining olive oil on medium heat. Pat the swordfish steaks dry with a paper towel and season lightly with the salt and pepper. Place the steaks in the hot pan and cook for about 4 minutes on the first side to get a good sear. Flip them, reduce heat, and cook until they register 145 degrees in the thickest part. Remove the steaks to plates, spoon the sauce on top, and give the whole works a drizzle of olive oil. Serve with some fresh crusty bread and enjoy!
Tuna Toro: The Bacon of the Sea
