A day and a half trip aboard the new Intrepid and skipper Danny Nichols showed me and 23 other anglers aboard an awful lot of albacore. That good news was offset a bit by the lack of willing biters. We fished from dawn to dusk, and caught fish at all times of the day, but never very many at once. It was a great day on the water, but that was the downside.

"This is what we've been looking at most of the summer," said Nichols. "There's plenty of fish around, but they don't want to bite. "

The albies could be seen for a long way on seas that were almost calm; just a five or ten-knot breeze and an easy light swell and very minor chop coming out of the northwest. The fish were up on the surface, feeding on small bait that looked like sardines and anchovies. We saw thousands of albacore splashing and tearing around on the meatballs they'd pushed up.

Terns, shearwaters and gulls took full advantage of the action, marking the schools so well it would be hard to miss them. We found other fish on the sonar gear, at ten or 15 fathoms, and got a few of those to rise to the chum, too. We even caught a few of them. At times we had feeding albies within casting distance, but most still wouldn't bite on our sardines or on the jigs a couple of fishermen tossed at them. We had large and small sardines, but few "tweeners," which might have matched the size of the bait the fish were so intently eating.

There were numerous boats in the area. Most had the same experience, repeated all day long. It was exciting to slide up on the schools, and we got enough fish to keep everyone at the rail all day. High man on the boat had five albies, but many of us, including myself, only got one or two. I got mine on 20-pound Mustad Ultra Pro line, with a tippet of 20-pound Seaguar fluorocarbon and a 1/0 ringed Ultra Point hook.

Most of us got one or two fish. John Chisholm, son of Bruce and Eunice Chisholm, both lifetime long rangers, had his son J.P. with him. Each had a single hookup with a fight, but J. P. lost his albie. John got his late in the sunny afternoon. Just before sunset we had a last little flurry of biters.

Nearly all our fish were caught on light line, fluorocarbon leader and small hooks. One angler was using size 2 hooks; about as small as you could get away with on fish of 20 to 35 pounds. If you go to a hook size that's too small there's serious risk of losing a larger fish, and there were a few, a very few, bluefin in the schools of jumpers.

Naturally, I located one on my 20-pound outfit. I knew it was a larger fish right away, when it bit and swam back at the boat, going down fast and making the spool on my little 197 Accurate Boss reel hum. Then the fish went across the stern, still diving, and brought several other angler's lines with it. We got to the corner, and the fish went up the rail, but I had to wait until the deckhands could free me from a half-dozen lines.

When I got loose, the fish had most of my line and was motating hard 30 degrees to port of the bow. I chased him up there, and when I got to the Intrepid's front end I had maybe 30 wraps of line left on the reel. The drag was about as tight as I could go without breaking the line, so I pointed the rod at the sky overhead, to no avail. Shortly I was down to ten wraps, facing a dilemma: let him take it all, and likely break it off at the reel and maybe kill the fish by dragging it around; or just tighten up a little more and try to turn the fish.

I used my fingers, but couldn't make him stop. The line went slack. When I reeled in it was broken in the middle of the fluorocarbon leader. I felt glad for the fish to be freed that way. I went to 30-pound line and fluoro next, but the only fish I got with that was a small yellowfin, which I released. It bit in the middle of a school of jumping albacore, just as the big fish, likely a bluefin, had done.

We were treated like royalty or politicians aboard the Intrepid. The new boat, with its white birch interior woodwork, extra-long bunks and circular booth salon seating is more than comfortable. Stabilizers make it track like it rides on rails. Chef Javier Quintanar had the trip off, but his brother Hector filled in with excellent meals. Before we started home after dark we were treated to a fine steak (cooked to order) dinner with corn on the cob and baked potato, with a superb green salad and triple-layer chocolate cake. All of it was served by deckhand Cameron Casper, on china with upscale silverware.

The Intrepid is a lovely new boat, and from my brief experience, she rides as good as she looks. Camerman Paul Sweeney and I are looking forward to a Catchy Tackle ten-day adventure aboard the new rig, from October 16 to 26. There may be a spot or two left on that trip, so if you'd like to join us for a "riding on rails" experience to the hot spot fishing off southern Baja, call Carol Wood at (530) 472-1658.