The two-hour lull in the action instantly turned to mayhem when something huge hit the two-pound Bluewater Eagle lure we had been trolling from the center ‘rigger. I scrambled from my comfortable perch atop the bait freezer, picked up the buzzing outfit, jammed the rod butt in my fighting belt and braced my knees against the transom, ready to tackle whatever was on the other end of the line. But instead of taking the fight to the fish, all I could do was hold on and watch 80-pound class line race off the two-speed International.

This wasn’t the moderately fast and steady run commonly associated with sharks and swordfish. Rather, it felt as if I had snagged a speeding truck on the interstate! In these Bahamian waters, at this time of year, it could only mean one thing – huge wahoo!

With line disappearing at a scary pace, I had a bad feeling this fish wasn’t going to be stopped. Fortunately, with a little more than a quarter spool of line remaining, the fish finally slowed.

WAHOO HAUNTS – Although wahoo can be caught all around the island, most of the fishing effort takes place over a hump situated off its northern end. From the Riding Rock Marina, located on the island’s western side, it took us roughly 30 minutes to cover the ten miles to the hump, which rises to 180 feet from a surrounding depth of approximately 4,000 feet. Like most seamounts in the Bahamas, this hump attracts schools of tuna, which constitute a major part of a big wahoo’s diet. Not surprisingly, we caught our mega ‘hoo around a school of small yellowfins, and discovered chunks of tuna in its stomach when we cleaned it.

While the tuna schools and seamounts are prime trolling targets, hot zones also exist around sharp indentations or breaks within the natural outer reefs, deep-drops, and pronounced bottom contours in 200 to 400 feet of water. This fishery is also affected by tidal movement to some degree, with some of the best action occurring on the last hour of the outgoing tide and first hour of the incoming. Most pros are aware of this tidal influence and make it a point to fish around the tunas or in a known wahoo haunt during the prime time. When the bite turns on, double-, triple- and even quadruple headers are possible.

DEADLY SPREAD – Wahoo also seem to prefer subsurface offerings, whether the lure or bait is racing a foot beneath the surface or ten feet down on a wire-line outfit. On our trip we fished a spread of Bluewater Lures, which Ray McConnell makes and sells at his Boca Raton tackle center. Designed for high-speed trolling for wahoo and tuna, the Bluewaters feature heavy, streamlined, chrome heads and plastic skirts. We trolled a spread of five lures: A one-pound lure called the TB2 was fished from a tag line off each outrigger, while two more TB2s were fished off the transom on short tag lines. A two-pound Bluewater Eagle lure was fished off a tag line from the center ‘rigger, some 50 yards behind the spread. All lures were rigged with ten feet of 480-pound-test cable and a pair of 9/0 (on the TB2s) and 11/0 (on the Bluewater Eagle) hooks.

Trolling at a consistent 11 knots, Gardner steered a shallow-to-deep course along the edge of the hump. With the wahoo patrolling the perimeter of the hump, the goal was to make the lures appear like small fish racing to and from the shallow pinnacle. Whenever tuna were spotted on the surface or the fishfinder, Gardner trolled around the schools. Since the tuna were running eight to 15 pounds, they showed no interest in our large lures. When the action slowed at the hump, Gardner ventured over to some major breaks along the deep reefs where he had taken wahoo in the past.

Since wahoo travel in small pods, it’s important to save the GPS coordinates following a hook-up, so you can return to the same spot and pick off another fish or two. Gardner dutifully recorded each strike, and immediately returned to the exact spot after we had landed each fish. He also revisited our many “strike spots” throughout the day. The strategy worked, and we took fish of 45, 55, 57 and 66 pounds before hooking the monster ‘hoo.

I wish the remote Bahamas Island of San Salvador had a lotto. If it did, I know I'd be their first winner. That may read like a bold statement, but consider the incredible luck I've had during the only two times I've been here.

Five years ago, on my first trip, I caught a giant wahoo weighing 143-pounds, three-ounces. And on my second trip there in May, 2008, while fishing for tuna and dolphin, I scored another monster wahoo! More on that 113-pound, two-ounce, trophy later!

Located approximately 400 nautical miles from South Florida, San Salvador is allegedly the first island Christopher Columbus set foot on during his 1492 voyage. However, if you're more into fishing than history, it's the incredible winter run of big wahoo that one is likely to associate with the island. Simply stated, San Salvador has the world's best wahoo fishing.

DOUBLE OR NOTHING - My second and last trip here was with Trey Rhyne, aboard his sportfishing boat — Low Profile. At the helm was captain Joe Trainor, and working the cockpit with Trey and me was Thomas Neligon. Trey Rhyne heads up Over Under Charters , the largest big game charter operations in the U.S. Over Under specializes in fishing trips to the remote Islands of the Bahamas, as well as several major U.S. big game destinations. I've fished with Trey before and we always seem to have incredible luck.

Little did I know just how impressively we'd keep that streak alive when I boarded his vessel.

Having already caught a monster wahoo before off San Salvador, while shooting an episode for my television series, we decided to skip over the peak winter wahoo season and instead target the dolphin and yellowfin tuna that push through here in impressive numbers during the spring.

FEED ‘EM RIGHT - Our bait spread consisted of a mix of small to medium artificial lures — such as jet-heads, cedar plugs and blunt head designs, lures tipped with ballyhoo, and plain ballyhoo. We trolled mostly with Penn 30 and 50 International reels, paired with matching Penn Tuna Stick stand-up rods. The 30s were spooled with 50-pound test Sufix Performance Braid and topped off with 150 feet of 50-pound test Sufix Superior monofilament, whereas the 50s were spooled with 80-pound test braid and topped off with 150 feet of 80-pound test monofilament. We also had a pair of 70 Internationals, reserved for big baits and lures that we'd put out for blue marlin.

The ocean was alive with birds, both terns and frigates. Flying fish frequently took to the air, to escape predation by dolphin and tuna, only to become vulnerable to the birds. Of course, when we saw pushes of flying fish and especially diving frigates, Captain Joe Trainor steered in that direction. Our trolling speed varied between 5 and 10 mph. On the hump, we trolled our lures and baits over its peak, and then off and out into deep water. The tuna were active on top of the hump, and we hoped to hook them when the baits were coming off the structure, rather than up onto it; our goal was to quickly drag them into deeper water and away from the sharks, which hang tight to the hump. Even then, the sharks were on the tuna like Bonnie and Clyde on a bank.

PICKY, PICKY - What was ironic is that the tuna would show a marked preference for a faster trolling speed and pure artificials one day, and then a slower trolling speed and natural baits the next. The dolphin seemed less interested in trolling speed and ate just about whatever we had out, although they did lean more toward the pure natural baits and the lures tipped with natural bait. To keep the bites coming, it was imperative to frequently switch out baits and lures and play with our trolling speed. When we found what was working at the moment, we'd replace a couple baits in the spread with the "hot" ones, until they chilled out — and then it was back to experimenting.

Trey and I enjoyed awesome blitzes of tuna and dolphin. The tuna averaged around 40 pounds, but there were some really big ones in the mix. As for the dolphin, most were between 20 and 40 pounds. As soon as we hooked a tuna, we had to put as much pressure on it as our tackle would allow, to muscle it to the boat and away from the sharks. We lost several tuna to sharks. So much so, that Joe immediately went into hard reverse and often forward to quarter any tuna we hooked, to help capture them quickly. Sometimes we were victorious, others times the sharks ate our lunch.