We, dad and I, with our guide and Captiain Jako Lucas, were chasing Bluefin and other reef species around what looked like an aquarium.  It is 2pm in Farquar, Seychelles and the air is at a dead calm. The sweat is pouring down our faces and back and we are not even really moving.  Just waiting.  About this time we see a pair of Bluefins coming high in the water column towards us.  Jako yells “cast, cast”…as I have been pursuing the Bluefin record.  Quickly, I make the cast placing it well beyond them and about 30 feet to their right so to whiz a fast strip right past them.  Then in anticipation of what I know my guide will command of me next, I start stripping as fast as my arms will go.  Full strip, full stripe, frantic, frantic…cause this is how these little fish like it…the faster the better.  This is not the poetic fishing slow and smooth that you see in the movies. This is hot, sweaty and ugly.  The duo of Bluefins charge my fly , as they always do, 90% time teasing me and constantly coming up short.  THEN, what seemed like out of nowhere this third trevally comes out of nowhere like a submarine directly in pursuit of my golden clouser.  “Yellow- dot, Yellow-dot”, Jako says in excitement, “that’s a massive one.”   Bam!!  It hits and it is game on.  Fish on.  I ease back on the set, because trevallys inevitably set themselves due to their take and instant turn.  I know because I have broken off my fair share on the set in the past, even with the strong 16lb class tippet.  I said back to Jako quickly in dismay and a little disappointment (that it was not a Bluefin, especially because I knew this one was over our goal of 6lbs).  “Are you sure? It looked like one, it’s blue.”  “No”, he says, “did you see the downturned mouth as it ate?  It is very distinctive and unlike that of a Bluefin or Giant Trevally.”  So it was settled, no bluefin here, but a nice fish and one that I was wanted to land.