Tuna boat. What an interesting name for a sandwich. I remember when I was a shipmate on a tuna boat. Well, it wasn’t a real tuna boat. Well, it was a real tuna boat in a sense, just not a commercial tuna boat.

My friend Paco and I decided in 1992 to catch tuna for a living and sell them to various restaurants along the West Coast. Tuna was bringing big bucks. We were going to make a killing and get rich. We converted an old 15-foot powerboat into our fishing vessel. Actually, the only thing we did was strap a couple king-sized coolers to the stern. Both were packed with ice; one we filled with beer and the other was for fish.

I knew nothing about tuna fishing but Paco assured me that he did. Came from a long line of tuna eaters, he said. That’s why I bought the beer in return for Paco’s help on the ocean. After all, it was his knowledge that was going to bring us a whale of lifestyle.

So, each day at dawn, for nearly two full weeks, we would motor out 10 miles offshore, sit in the hot Pacific sun, fish net in one hand, and a cold beer in the other. Paco guaranteed me this was the way it was done. But, each evening we would weave our way back to El Stupido Bay with two empty coolers.

Late one night as we sat on the boat dock after another day of catching nothing but a big bad beer buzz, I questioned Paco about the lack of tuna in our boat. “Sharks,” he responded resolutely. “We got us a big influx of sharks chewin’ up the tuna.”

I gave Paco a puzzled look. “I haven’t seen any sharks,” I said, scratching my head with the edge of an empty beer can.

“Course not,” he replied, opening the top to the cooler. “When they eat that much tuna, they’re gonna be nappin’. You see, they eat the tuna at night, and during the day they take siestas. It makes perfect sense. How much tuna could you eat before you got fat and lazy?”

“I don’t know but I’d like to find out you bullhead!”

Paco felt around the cooler. “Hey, we’re outta beer,” he said, tipping an empty can.

I was being fed a line and getting as red as a snapper.

Now I never claimed to be the swiftest sardine in the can, but that night I finally figured out Paco didn’t know shad about catching tuna. Oh, his generational line caught tuna all right – every week when it went on sale at assorted supermarkets.

No, it turned out old Paco just liked beer – free, ice-cold beer. He’s lucky he didn’t get his bass kicked.

We live, we learn.

Tuna Boats

1 can tuna in water (6 oz) (drained)

Mayonnaise

1/2 small onion (diced and optional)

2 slices American processed cheese

2 hot dog buns

In a small mixing bowl, empty tuna and add just enough mayonnaise to make creamy. You’ll have to use your own judgment on this one as different people like different consistency to their tuna. It’s up to you. Once it’s mixed, add your onion if you’re doing onion. If not, you’re set to go. Toast your hot dog buns in the oven at about 350 degrees or broil them (if you have an oven, you should have a broiler setting). Or, option C is to butter both halves of the inside and heat them in a frying pan till brown. Once they’re toasted, remove from heat and fill with tuna. Top with a cheese slice and either broil or microwave till cheese is melted. Either way, it will take about 30 seconds. That’s it!