Every fishing trip should have a Plan C. On the 3rd Annual Boating/Orvis/Flies and Fins Bluefin Tuna Trip, ours saved the day. What has become one of my favorite trips of the year started three seasons ago when Jeremy and I exchanged emails about trying to catch bluefin tuna on fly. My brother and I trailered a boat up to Rhode Island to meet Jeremy, who had done all the advance scouting. He also recruitedTom Rosenbauer of Orvis to join us along with Mike Warecke, a fly guide out of Connecticut who’s dialed in to the tuna game. That year we struck gold. Longtime Flies and Fins readers will remember Jeremy’s awesome footage.This year the fleet expanded to three boats as Alex from Argentina, RhodieFlyGuy (Matt), and Enrico Puglisi joined in. We tried to time it to when the school bluefin might show up. They never did. But Jeremy, Tom, Alex, and Rhodie had done some scouting and were on the trail of some erratic bonito. They’d bagged one or two prior to the trip and it seemed like the boneheads would go off. They became plan A.My brother and I took a four hour boat ride from New York City to meet up with the crew chasing bonito around Block Island. We immediately ran into a pod of bonito just out of casting range of our boat. Of course, they went down before we could cast. That was the last good shot we had that day. As the afternoon sun started to wind down, we motored over to a rip with stripers busting on the surface during the outgoing tide. They crushed our flies. We left happy.The next day, we turned to blue sharks as Plan B. Jeremy and Capt. Mike had hooked up with them the day before by setting up chum slicks about six miles off Block Island. But to get to the shark grounds we had to suffer through 4-6 foot seas. We set up a slick offshore trying to lure in sharks to battle them on 12-weight fly rods. But the water was too cold and the sharks had skipped town. Then Rhodie’s boat broke down and we had to tow him in.Down to two boats, we chased the bonito around some more. Jeremy found a pod on the mainland of Rhode Island and hooked into one. We rushed over to get in on the action but so did a few other boats. Two clowns on one boat decided to troll through the pod with their fly rods, effectively shutting it down. If I had a gun I might be in jail right now.Thankfully, we had Plan C. We made it back to the same rip and watched as the stripers came up to eat on the surface as the tide started moving. Enrico generously divided his entire bag of flies between the two boats. We dialed it in. We’d useblack and purple peanut butter flies on sinking line and get a strike on almost every cast. Tom wanted to get surface takes so Enrico gave him an EP Floating Minnow he trimmed to match the hatch. Tom cast it, gave it one twitch, and let it sit on the surface like an injured baitfish. WHAM! The stripers murdered it. From that point on we took turns catching stripers until our arms hurt, one guy fishing deep and the other on the surface. We had double hook-ups going until dusk.And really, at the end of the day, with Alex cooking Argentine-style steaks on the grill and wine and beer going down too easily, and fishing stories going back and forth, all that everyone remembered was that we had a hell of a time fishing together. The bluefin tuna never showed, the sharks made a fleeting appearance, the bonito teased the hell out of us, but the stripers saved the day. Thank God for Plan C.