Fishing for black marlin on the Great Barrier Reef offers one of the most exhilarating big-game experiences in the world, with peak action typically from September to December. Renowned for their power and size—with some fish exceeding 1,000 pounds—these majestic marlin attract anglers from all over the globe. Join the Pelagic Team as we head out of Cooktown, Australia for an epic week of big game fishing on the GBR!
Winter Bluefin Fishing in the Outer Banks: Why February is the Real Season
Story and Photos by Kevin Voegtlin
Picture Nags Head in summer. Beaches thick with umbrellas, the air’s warm, the water flat, and the town full of people chasing fried shrimp baskets and sunsets. Marinas hum from dawn to dark, boats in and out, lines of people waiting for a table and a cold drink. It’s lively. It’s easy.
February is none of that.
Midday temps hang in the 40s, the water the same. Offshore, the wind stirs the ocean into a cold, mean chop. Spray soaks everything. Town’s boarded up, most of it anyway. That burger joint your buddy swore by? Closed. Try again in May.
This is the Outer Banks we came for. The season of work, not play. If you want to catch a trophy bluefin tuna, this is when you show up.
We were there to fish and to test our cold-weather fishing gear. No better place. No better crews.
Cold, grey, empty, and perfect. You’re not here for the on land amenities anyway.
Day 1: Inshore Bluefin to Start the Trip – Fishing with Captain Jack Graham
February 4, 6:00 AM
Air: 40 | Water: 46 | Wind: 36kts
The first day eased us in, but only because it was blowing too hard offshore to make a run. Our options were to sit around on land or chase a rumored nearshore bite, and we didn't come here to not fish.
Our first few days would be spent with one of our Pro Team Captains, Jack Graham, aboard Afishionado, a 50-foot Carolina sportfisher built to take a beating. Joining us for the week was Steve Fernandez, another Pro Team Captain based out of New York, where he runs the 5seas. Steve grew up in Breezy Point and has logged decades up and down the Eastern Seaboard, including multiple seasons here in the Outer Banks. His deep knowledge of this fishery, and of what it takes to land a giant bluefin, made him a welcome addition to the team.
Captains Jack Graham (left) and Steve Fernandez (right), no stranger’s to OBX’s unrelenting cold.
We left the dock in a soft, gray dawn and ran a few miles out. It quickly turned into one of those days. The sun broke through, the wind backed off. Not what we came for to test cold weather gear, but nobody was complaining about being able to peel off a few layers while fishing a mile off the beach. By noon, we had a 180-pounder laid out on the deck. A pretty good way to wash off the travel day. At under 73 inches, the fish was ours to keep.
Tuna regs here are simple. One fish per day. If it’s under 73 inches on a charter, the clients keep it. Over 73, and it gets sold commercially. But out here, most crews aren’t chasing table fare, they’re chasing their money fish.
Murphy’s law says that if you’re looking for cold and offshore, you’re going to get blue skies and fish a mile out.
It’s hard to fathom that this is “small grade” for these waters, but that’s bluefin fishing in OBX
Day 2: Gulf Stream Run and a 600-Pound Atlantic Bluefin Tuna
February 5, 5:00 AM
Air: 42| Water: 46 | Wind: 20kts
This was the day we came for. The forecast greenlit a run to the Gulf Stream — 30 miles out, where the water jumps from 45 to 70 degrees in a sharp, blue line teeming with life. Tuna, porpoise, whales, sharks, gannets. A 30-mile-wide conveyor belt of the richest water you can imagine, running north at five knots.
We left in the dark. Before we even cleared the inlet, you could feel the work of the prior day’s wind. Four feet at four seconds, and we’d be beating our way into it for over an hour.
Fishing in the Outer Banks in winter is the real deal. Cold, wet, rough. Long runs with no quick escape. You’d better have the gear to get you through it. Layering is essential, a warm flannel, a puffer, waterproof shells top and bottom, bulletproof bibs for when it turns nasty. You’ll need it all.
Swell, meet current. Prime conditions in the Gulf Stream.
First light came gray and raw as we geared up. Jackets zipped, bibs buckled, already pelted by spray with every rock of the boat. But there wasn’t much time to feel sorry for ourselves.
Fifteen minutes after the lines hit the water, a rod went down.
Big fish. Heavy fish… The kind you settle in on and rotate through. Not a fight you measure in minutes, but in hours. Inch by inch, turn by turn, we worked it up. Two hours later, we had what we were looking for. Six hundred pounds of Atlantic bluefin. Tail-roped, bled, and four guys still struggled to drag it through the transom door.
With a fish on board and a sky starting to spit rain, we turned for home.
Day 3: A Down Day in Wanchese and Nags Head
February 6, 8:00 AM
Air: 41 | Water: 36 | Wind: 30 kts
TK
Textures of Wanchese
Day 4: Deep into the Gulf Stream with Captain Mark DeBlasio
February 7, 3:45 AM
Air: 40| Water: 46 | Wind: 8 kts
The cabin was quiet as we picked our way out, broken only by the squawk of the radio as other captains relayed real-time info on the crossing. We slipped through in the dark, rain peppering the windshield, waves breaking along the sandbar lit up for split seconds as a lightning storm hung offshore.
We ran south for hours, chasing rumors of a bite and leaving the crowd behind. It was a brutal haul, running uphill the whole time, relentlessly smashing through the short period swell. Four days of pre-dawn wakeups and hard fishing had taken their toll. The best we could do was wedge in somewhere and close our eyes, if only to pretend we might catch up on a bit of sleep. We finally made it out to the Gulf Stream and the tuna grounds, and it was time to get to work.
Mark’s boat is a true commercial tuna fishing workhorse. These guys fish dawn to dusk year round, and don’t flinch. Long hauls, bad weather, rough seas, they’re out there. And while our day might’ve been mild by their standards, it was cold and rough. The Cold Front Puff Jacket and Torrent and Chubasco bibs did their jobs.
For Steve, it was a full-circle moment. Fifteen years ago, he sent Mark a message on Facebook: “if you ever need a hand on board, I’m there. No pay needed.” A few weeks later, Mark replied: “Can you be in Montauk by midnight?” Steve was on the road within an hour.
Not long after, Steve quit his corporate job and started working for Mark. It was a job and mentorship that helped shape the way Steve approaches the water and changed the trajectory of his life. Steve now works as a full time captain of a private boat, fishing the same waters he worked with DeBlasio. They hadn’t fished together in years, but once back on deck, the rhythm returned like no time had passed.
It took a while to find them, but when we did, it was on. The fish ran small, if you call 200-pounders small. At one point, we had four rods down, landed two of them, and finished the day with six to the boat. Mark found his over-73 money fish and called it.
A long run home, and another fish on ice.
Cold Weather Tuna Fishing in OBX: For Those Willing to Work for It
There’s something about planning a cold-weather bluefin trip. No frills, no boat beers in the sun, no easy days. If you’re heading to the Outer Banks in February to chase a trophy bluefin, you’re doing it because you love it. Because fishing’s in your blood, and you’re willing to put in the work. If that’s you, we can’t recommend it enough. And when you go, bring the gear we built to handle it.
A 2 hour fight shown in 6 frames. Slow steady work, and plenty of help gets it done
Rough seas, spitting rain, and the hard reality that you still have a 600lb fish to deal with.
Down days come with the territory here. The weather’s too harsh, too unpredictable to fish every day.
A new front rolled through with winds ripping at 30 knots, fishing wasn’t an option.
So what do you do? Breakfast at Darrell’s, lunch at O’Neal’s. Watch the fish house work, check in with Mark DeBlasio, our captain for the next day. Have a beer at Blue Water Grill
Rolling with the likes of DeBlasio, Fernandez, and Graham, gets you a few perks around town, like free reign to wander about the fish houses and take in the commercial operation. The whole operation feels simple yet layered at the same time. The captain works with a buyer, the buyer with the fish house. The fishhouse processes the fish, takes a core sample to check quality, and then the buyer moves it along to his buyer. Premium grade (highest fat content) goes to Japan, and the rest stays local. There’s no better place to pick up a bit of intel than hanging around those fishhouses as the fleet offloads from the day.
There’s history here, texture and grit, making the back corners of Nags Head, Wanchese, and Oregon Inlet ideal for days like this, when the boats stay tied up and you can wander around.
Not only do the fish houses of Oregon Inlet play a critical roll in the local economy, they also offer the perfect spot to decompress and swap intel after a long run.
Mark DeBlasio is a true East Coast tuna fishing authority. Hailing from New Jersey, with decades of seasons here in OBX. He’s won tournaments and caught trophy fish up and down the Eastern Seaboard. Mark captains the Water Proof, a Northern Bay 42 custom built by Morgan Bay Boatworks. If you’ve seen Wicked Tuna, you know the type. No frills, all work.
If you’ve seen Wicked Tuna you also know that just making it out of the harbor can be the most harrowing part of the day. The sandbar at Oregon Inlet shifts with every tide, famous for breaking windshields and turning boats back.
Mark and Steve and an early morning scene that probably played out hundreds of times over the course of their years fishing together.
Pelagic staffer, and angler, Brandon Cotton first up in the hurt locker.
