A roughly eight-foot tuna reaching the side of the boat after more than an hour of fighting should have been the triumphant end to this three-day shakedown. Instead, the fish darts beneath the boat and the line reaches the propeller, turning the crew’s best opportunity into exactly the kind of painful lesson they hoped to learn before entering a $153,000 tournament. That failure gives the outing genuine stakes beyond simply catching a large fish: every mistake now is potentially one they will not repeat when prize money is involved.
The first day establishes just how experimental the setup remains. A huge blue shark provides an unexpected stress test for a rod holder attached to a two-by-ten, and although the improvised arrangement survives, the crew openly recognizes how questionable it is. No tuna arrives that day, but testing the tackle and discovering how the boat behaves under a substantial load still makes the trip useful. The group's willingness to acknowledge the crude elements of the setup also keeps the presentation refreshingly self-aware.
Day two provides the real drama. An early hookup ends after roughly 20 minutes, but another fish later gives the crew a prolonged fight and their first close look at what landing a tuna from this boat actually demands. The sequence effectively communicates the physical difficulty involved: multiple people rotate on the rod, the boat must maneuver around lobster gear, the fish repeatedly takes line, and getting it close enough for the harpoon proves to be only another stage of the challenge. The excitement feels earned because the struggle unfolds over time rather than being reduced to a quick highlight.
Losing that fish near the boat is frustrating, but the aftermath is arguably more valuable than a clean success would have been for the video's stated purpose. The crew immediately discusses what went wrong, including fighting from the port-side holder, allowing the fish into a difficult corner and failing to use the boat soon enough to keep it clear of the propeller. They do not pretend to be experts; in fact, they repeatedly emphasize their lack of tuna experience and describe themselves as the "blind leading the blind." That candor makes their conclusions appropriately provisional while showing a genuine process of learning through failure.
There is also a satisfying mechanical dimension to the trip. The boat was built to handle several kinds of commercial and recreational work, and tuna fishing exposes design questions that ordinary cruising would never reveal. The trap rack interferes with potential harpoon opportunities, visibility differs depending on which rod holder is used, and the crew eventually decides that future fights should be moved immediately to the starboard side. Even the questionable screws holding one setup become part of the experiment. These details make the outing feel like an actual test of a newly built working boat rather than merely a fishing vlog filmed aboard it.
The final day is much quieter, and that creates both realism and a pacing problem. Catching squid, watching the other boats, interpreting possible activity on the electronics and debating whether the chosen location deserves confidence are all relevant preparations, but there is no third-day tuna hookup to provide another payoff. The recurring jokes about abandoned lobster work, adult responsibilities and the birthday cookout give the downtime personality, yet the extended waiting and repeated discussions of tournament plans cover similar ground several times.
Ultimately, the crew fails at its clearest objective: no tuna reaches the deck before tournament time. Yet the three days still accomplish much of what a practice session should. They discover weaknesses in their fishing position, experience the enormous load of a large fish, learn how quickly a controlled fight can turn chaotic and stockpile bait for the competition. Ending without the desired catch is disappointing, but it also leaves the upcoming tournament with a natural underdog storyline rather than manufacturing a cliffhanger.
Pros
- The hour-long tuna fight creates sustained tension and demonstrates the physical and logistical difficulty of landing such a large fish.
- Losing the tuna at the propeller leads to a specific, useful examination of mistakes rather than being treated merely as bad luck.
- Testing rod holders, boat positioning, the trap rack and other equipment keeps the fishing directly connected to evaluating the newly built boat.
- The crew is candid about its limited tuna experience and avoids presenting improvised decisions as expert instruction.
- The blue shark encounter provides an effective early stress test even though the initial target species does not cooperate.
- Natural humor and crew chemistry keep long periods of waiting from becoming entirely uneventful.
Cons
- Three days of fishing produce no successfully landed tuna, leaving the central practical test incomplete before the tournament.
- The third day contains substantial downtime and repeated discussion of the same tournament plans and fishing-location uncertainty.
- Some fishing sequences become difficult to follow amid rapid overlapping dialogue and shouted instructions.
- The improvised rod-holder arrangements appear knowingly underdeveloped for the loads the crew expects to encounter.
- Practical explanations of some tackle, electronics and techniques remain limited, making parts of the process harder for inexperienced viewers to understand.
Failure proves unusually productive here, turning a lost tuna and several equipment concerns into concrete lessons about how the crew needs to operate its new boat under pressure. The quieter stretches could be tightened, but the near-catch supplies genuine suspense while the unresolved goal creates strong momentum heading into the tournament.
