Yellow Spot Papio (Island Jack) and Weke Nono (Pfluger’s Goatfish) – how are they raw?

August 22, 2024 By Scott 2 Comments

Yellow spot papio, also called Island Jack, can be caught in waist deep water on the flats and thus may be more commonly caught than weke nono / weke ‘ula or Pfluger’s goatfish which is normally encountered in water deeper than 100ft.

Yellow spot papio are considered about the best eating of the papio we have in Hawaii, only possibly surpassed by kagami papio or African pompano. Yellow spot initially may look like omilu (bluefin trevally) in the water because they both have blue colored fins and opaque blueish sides, but on closer examination, yellow spot papio have the yellow spots they are known for, as well as thicker skin with tiny scales and a downturned mouth equipped to suck up crustaceans. Their diet of shrimp and crab are the reason for their light tasting, non-fishy, slightly fatty flesh.

Weke nono are a beautiful red goatfish with white stripes, when alive, that aren’t generally as well respected as kumu, munu and moana kali because weke nono have flesh that tends to get a little dry when cooked.

But weke nono make great sashimi, especially when over 2lb and prepared properly. Their diet is similar to yellow spot papio, feeding on shrimps and crabs. Since their flesh, like all goatfish, is on the soft side, icing the fish overnight and then dry aging the fillets for a day or so really help to tighten up the meat.

Yellow spot has a softer meat than most papio but are still firmer than weke nono because they have more muscle fiber/tendons. Both fish have a very “clean” taste.

Neither yellow spot nor weke nono sashimi got fishy after 3 days but the weke nono was beginning to soften further. Yellow spot sashimi “feels” more like you’d expect of raw fish, whereas weke nono have a softer less “connected” feel. Both are excellent in my very humble opinion!

Guest Post: Waikiki Standup Paddleboard Fishing – Catch and Cook

May 31, 2016 By Scott 8 Comments

This is a guest post about a recent stand-up paddleboard fishing adventure in Waikiki. The writer is one of my fishing partners who prefers to remain relatively anonymous while still commenting on most of my posts. His name is Kelly and he’s a master at catching fish near the reef on his foamie SUP with the rod tucked in his shorts.

Playing hooky from work always seems to bring me good fishing luck, so I decided to try my luck on a Friday. Although it was a windy day with poor fishing tides (only a small 1.0’ high tide at about 10:00am), I decided to take my foamie SUP board and paddle around to see if the Papio season had indeed started, as Scott had been hearing through the grapevine. The trade winds were whipping, which limited my SUP fishing location options, so I headed out to Waikiki after dropping off the kidlets at school. I figured at the very least there would be nice blue-green water, beautiful white sand, attractive “scenery” and I would get some much-needed exercise.

I paddled out at my usual spot about 8:30 in the morning, with my brand spanking new cheap-o spinning reel loaded with generic 15lb test mono and my state of the art junk-a-lunka $20 pole. My fishing budget is very limited and I always try to catch fish using inexpensive tackle that still works well for the fish I target (papio). Normally, I just troll dead baits (oama if I can get them) by paddling along with a pole stuck in my shorts and that is just what I decided to do. The pole in the shorts trolling technique is fun and allows me to fish cheaply, with very little gear to pack and cover grounds that are usually less heavily fished.

The sun was out and the tide was rising, so I felt there was a decent chance to catch a legal-sized Omilu or two for dinner. On some days, I have had moderate success near the surf breaks and impact zones with all the turbulence and whitewater, so I headed out to the breakers. After about 10-15 minutes, I felt a light tug on the pole, which was tucked in my shorts right below the small of my back, and in short order pulled up a cute little Omilu. It was quickly released unharmed. A bit later, a slightly larger Omilu hit and gave me a short, but stubborn fight. This one was about 10 ½ inches, pulled a little drag and was bagged quickly. I like to land the fish as soon as possible to avoid stressing the fish – it makes fish tastier to eat (my main objective) but also keeps fish healthier if it is to be released. More on the eating part later.

After trolling for another 30 minutes or so with only one more legal Omilu hitting my bait, it was time to head in to meet Scott for a quick kayak safety exercise near the shore. I reluctantly headed down wind, back to the paddle out spot. The tide was near its peak now and I was slightly disappointed to have to paddle across a “dead area” in order to get to the stretch of beach where we had agreed to meet.

In order to arrive on time, I took the most direct route that was over a very shallow flat, rubbly reef interspersed with sand and a few coral heads. In about five feet of water, my attention focused on the beach looking for a red kayak, all of a sudden BANG! My pole doubled over and I thought WTF!??! Did my dead bait get stuck on a coral head as I paddled slowly?? I grabbed my pole from my high tech okole rod holder and pulled upwards. Well that sure pissed off the creature and he (it was a male, more about that later) made a long run parallel to shore. It was odd because it was not the smoking, head shaking run I experienced on big Papio strikes, but rather a strong steady pull. My second thought was “WTH is this, a turtle??”, since the honu frequent the calm waters in that area and sometimes eat dead fish. Throughout the fight there was the lingering question in my mind about what was on the other end of my line. Occasionally I felt a head shake, but was still flummoxed as I racked my brains trying to figure out what I had hooked. After about three or four minutes, I was able to see a silvery color and a very vague roundish shape, but still could not make out the species of fish. Whatever it was, I knew the size and color meant if I landed him, he was gonna make for some good grinds.

After another 30 seconds or so of him pulling my board in a 360-degree clockwise circle, I was able to make out a Papio … but there was no electric blue color and the tail had a black outline. I was still unsure of what exactly I was fighting. It was definitely not the color of an Omilu and did not fight like a white Papio. Could this be my first Barred Jack? I got excited and the fish must have sensed it, because he made another run that took him out of my sight range. Now I was getting a little nervous and hoped that my hook did not pull. I double-checked the drag and slowly worked him back to the board. After a few tuna-like death circles under the board, I decided that it was time to try to land the big guy. I pulled my long rashguard sleeve over my palm and fingers and grabbed the tail. The tail stump was very girthy and I was very pleased with myself indeed … but then the fish gave a hard kick, slipped out of my hands and started swimming away! “OH $HIT”!!! I screamed! Luckily, he was still hooked and I worked him back to the board again. Made a more decisive grab this time and got a death grip on the tail. Finally after hauling the fish on to the board, I saw that it was a big, fat Yellowspot Papio!!! I checked to make sure the hook was secure, in case he flopped off the board somehow.

After a minute of rest and exultation, I removed the hook and bagged the fish. WOOOHOOO! In disbelief, I started paddling for shore. Every so often, the bag would thrash around and I would have to make sure my once-in-a-lifetime catch would not escape. As an intermediate fisher with limited time and resources, I do not catch nice-sized fish very often. In fact, this was my biggest Papio ever. It was pure luck! I heard that it is not common to catch yellowspots in very shallow water and I would not have fished that area at that time, except that I had promised to meet Scott at 10:30am. As they say “better to be lucky than good”.

The Papio made some nice sashimi, poke and Portuguese style vina dosh. Here are some photos. If you look carefully, you can see the fish was a mature male and you can see the milky gonads with red veins. The sashimi was amazing, smooth and buttery with a nice soft texture. The poke was made with invasive “gorilla” ogo harvested the next day. The “gorilla” ogo is a great ingredient in poke (and a fine namasu), is very plentiful and easy to harvest. I drove up to the beach in Maunalua Bay grabbed the ogo and drove home. The harvesting part took about 3 minutes and I highly recommend this crunchy limu as a food source.

It was a great fishing/culinary experience and I will never forget my lucky luck Waikiki Yellow Spot.

– Kelly

Semi-nearshore shallow water jigging

May 7, 2016 By Scott 8 Comments

I know the blog’s focus is Nearshore Fishing, so I’m gonna ask for a little leeway on this post.

A new fishing friend and new Lawai’a feature writer, Erik, very generously offered to take me out for a quick bottom fishing / shallow water jigging expedition yesterday. It had been 15 yrs since I’d been on a boat so we picked a very light wind day to launch. My fishing window was short so we had to run, drop, jig and gun. The cross-directional swell bounced the 14 ft aluminum boat enough for me to get a little green around the gills but the fishing action managed to keep my mind off the shifting horizon.

Live Deception, Waxwing Baby, Waxwing Boy, Flat Fall 80g, Flat Fall 80g

1 oz Mackeral Live Deception on left. 2.8oz Black Anchovy and Blue Sardine Flat Fall on right

Erik was fishing a pinkish, silvery 30 g (1.05 oz) Japanese micro jig he purchased from Charley’s Fishing Supply, and I started with an 80g (2.8 oz) blue sardine Shimano Flat Fall (furthest right in the photo). Erik expertly put us on the spots, fishing the reef’s edge from 70ft deep, drifting inward toward shallower water, without aid of a fish finder or GPS.

He started feeling hits on his micro jig and brought up the brownish hage, and moana. I hadn’t felt a thing on my flat fall. I kept trying to emulate the way Erik would pop his rod tip repeatedly when the lure reached the bottom, then lift and crank the lure back to the surface in an exaggerated pumping motion. When Erik saw that I was getting disillusioned, he pointed out that there were new scratches on my lure and that something had taken a swipe at the flat fall but missed the two assist hooks. That must’ve happened as the lure free fell, and it gave me hope.

Then Erik’s rod bent over in an upside down “U” and line peeled off the spool. Something larger than a hage had taken his jig midway up the water column and was surging for the bottom at an alarming rate. Erik’s spinning rig consisted of a short, fairly light action Star spinning rod and Shimano Sahara 4000 reel, packed with 15lb braid and a 30lb fluoro leader. He tightened his drag, cupped the spool and the fish surged again. A veteran of many light tackle battles with large fish, Erik kept the combatant out of the rocks and enjoyed the scrap, wondering what could be pulling downward so intently.

After a few shorter runs we saw color. Electric blue fins, silvery body? Big omilu? On closer examination Erik exclaimed “yellow dot papio!”, formally known as the Island Jack. His previous fish had been released but not this one.

notice how the boat’s stern isn’t lining up with the horizon? we’re swinging back and forth!

Yellow dot papio are one of the tastiest papios. The 6lb beauty was destined for a starring role as sashimi and ceviche.

I was stoked to witness the fight but began to suspect my flat fall was too large for the area we were fishing. On my next drop, it felt like my jig was being sucked down, and then it felt stuck. Erik swung the boat up current and the “stuck” kept being pulled along, then suddenly popped free. What the heck? It happened again on the following drop and the jig didn’t have any new scratches. Erik said it could be a tako grabbing on and eventually pulling free. As much as I like tako poke, I wanted to catch something on the flat fall with teeth, fins and scales! On the next drop I temporarily got stuck in a solid rock, and when Erik moved the boat to free my jig, I reeled up and hunted around for a smaller lure.

I was given Ahi Live Deception jigs as a promotion to try in our local waters, and happened to have a 1 oz Green Mackeral pattern in my tackle box. (See top photo). It was the only small jig I had. The lure feels like a slender, flexible slab of lead and is laser printed with an actual fish photo. It looks very lifelike but lacks the fancy bevels and curves that the flat fall sports. I hadn’t read anything about its swimming action, nor seen any underwater videos about it. How good could it be? But on the second drop I got a hit. Yay, an actual fish caught on the small treble hook! A smallish, but legal moana. I was feeling more and more queasy, so I tossed it back without a picture.

kawakawa

On the next drop something yanked, then let itself be retrieved a bit… then took a little line. The skunk was definitely off my back, and this fish felt bigger. I was using the Shimano recommended shallow water jigging setup: Shimano Trevala F medium action rod and Curado 300EJ bait casting reel and while I could feel the twists and turns of the fish, I easily coaxed it to the surface. Turned out to be a small kawakawa, my first ever. Erik held it for me and I snapped a quick pic with my phone’s camera. I could barely see through the glare, and focusing on Erik and the fish while the horizon gyrated back and forth was pushing me closer to urk-dom.

Two fish back-to-back on the unheralded Live Deception. Erik brought up another brownish hage on his micro jig and I caught an orangey weke I had never seen before, followed by a small taape. The taape was kept to rid the reef of invasives and was destined to become Erik’s crab bait. I was really impressed with the Live Deception’s effectiveness and hook up ratio. The treble was working too well actually, as it was hard to unhook the fish. I bent down each barb and threw the jig over the side. Halfway down I felt a tug and then … nothing. Something had taken the lure down its gullet and cut the line. My new magic lure… gone.

While I put the flat fall back on my leader, Erik hooked what was probably the offending lure-swallower. A kawelea, or Heller’s Baracuda. Not as fearsome looking as the kaku or Great Barracuda and supposedly better eating. Erik tossed it back since his yellow dot papio would keep his family fed for awhile. I threw my flat fall over the side and finally, felt something hit it. A kawelea was hooked on the rear assist hook and was released also. I looked at my watch and it was time to ride the swells in.

6lb yellow dot papio and taape

Not bad for only 2 hrs of bottom fishing without GPS or a fish finder. Erik’s micro jig and my Live Deception lure were probably closer to the size of bait the fish were feeding on, explaining why the larger flat fall wasn’t getting much attention except for those mystery dead-weight snags. If not for Erik’s expert small skiff skills, I would’ve started another 15 yr boat-ban, but instead look forward to mining the bottom for more critters.