We decided againsed going to the rigs and instead went to the nipple in search of the "epic weedline" we had all been hearing about. Around 1 o'clock we were south of the nipple going through some of the thickest scattered grass i've ever seen when the left rigger starts screaming. After one good blistering run we got her turned and started cranking. About ten minutes later Capt. Bert introduced her to the gaff and wrestled this ole girl over the gunnel. All in all it was a fantastic trip even though we didn't have tons of action. Along with the wahoo we also managed to bring home a nice YF and had a mystery bite that broke us off above the wind on after checking out just about everything in our spread and cutting off an Islander daisy chain. Any guesses on the weight of this hooter?