We set our course towards the 43 out of Shelter. Got on the water around 6:30 and decided to skip bait because there was a line (later, heard the bait was good size sardines, damn) On the way, stopped on a nice paddy and lost a nice yellowtail to the paddy, damn. Conditions were nice and there were signs of life, porpoise, swordfish and makos, oh my! We reached the high spot around 10am and it looked like we were late for the party, damn. Noticed that there was a paddy in the midst of it all but no one was hooked up and some were motoring up to leave. Cast the popper, surface iron for 10 minutes, nada, I wish we had bait, damn. My buddy, Bob, gets ready for a nap and tells me there are no fish. I grab his brand new Fathom 30, just to mess around. I drop a megabait down to about 200 feet and I think to myself, why am I doing this? No idea, so I put it in gear and start my retrieve. About 100 feet up, I hook up and I tell, Bob. He looks over and tells me to shut up. After nearly getting spooled, I flipped it to sunset and told him to chase this fish down. I'm thinking this is a Mola the whole time. It's just swimming and I don't feel any tuna-like head shakes. The past month we've put in 10 days chasing these things and went 1 for 8. Lost them either to pulled hooks or terminal failure. After getting 75% of the line back, the battle begins. Running around the boat and gaff myself in the back, damn (not as bad as it sounds) and still not thinking this is a tuna. After almost an hour of this, we get it to color and we realize this is going to be tough with only one gaff, damn. Stick it with the gaff and thankfully I watch a lot of Wicked Tuna, so I ghetto rigged a tail rope. I guess this is why Bob always brings a bottle of champagne on the boat. Keep at it guys, they are still out there! Thanks to all the guys who've provided tips and advice. Too long, didn't read? 189.6lbs at the 43 around noon, megabait, siwash hook. Gill hooked, lucky she didn't saw me off.