"The kingfish are on the beach!", was the cry of the weekend. Huge pods of pogies (menhaden shad) are finally making their appearance on the North Florida coast, and the kingfish are beginning to make their presence known in the midst of these pods. These kings, coupled with the monster redfish that follow the bait on the bottom, were reason enough to hug the beaches on this trip.
We were not alone in our quest.
My wife, Susan, and I in my boat were accompanied by my son, Tom, and his fishing partner, Michael Burk, in Tom's Carolina Skiff. We were but two of many boats along the Northeast Florida beaches catching pogies in cast nets and slow trolling them north and south.
Several boats reported catching kingfish, but we were not in that count. After a lengthy trolling episode, all we could muster were a pair of ten pound jack crevalle that doubled up on Tom's kingfish rigs.
I decided that we needed to put a fish or two in the boat, if for no other reason than my wife was with me on one of the few trips she makes every year. She is my great partner on the trips she takes, and I needed to get her into some action.
Around 10 in the morning, I decided to break out and find a fish. The west wind held the seas to three feet or less, so I headed offshore to some good bottom about twenty miles out. The relatively calm seas put us over the good bottom in less than an hour.
After several anchoring attempts finally ended in a good marking bottom below, I broke out the bottom rigs and began fishing.
Susan succumbed to a rather heavy ground swell and did what most people do who feel queasy. She laid down on some boat cushions thinking that would help. Actually, laying down is probably the worst thing you can do on the ocean with a queasy stomach. So I fished alone while she fell out of commission.
After several frustrating bouts with heavy bottom tackle, I broke out the light spinning gear. This interested Susan, and together we caught several beeliners, seabass, and porgies off the structure ninety feet below. I had purchased a variety of bait, something I seldom do, but with my wife on the trip, I wanted to have all the bases covered. So, with a live shrimp, I decided to experiment.
I tied a half-ounce jig head on my spinning outfit, and carefully threaded a live shrimp on the hook. You must realize that no one uses live shrimp offshore, particularly bottom fishing in ninety feet of water. The small fish take the shrimp off before you can feel them.
I sent the jig head and shrimp down, and long before it reached the bottom, the line stopped leaving the reel. I lifted up, felt the pressure of a fish, and set the hook. What happened after that was a learning experience.
Beeliners are considered members of the snapper family - albeit a remote cousin's branch. Any snapper worth his salt will hit a live shrimp, I thought. And my inclination was right.
While we couldn't catch any large beeliners on heavy tackle and squid, we were able to get bit by some very nice beeliners on almost every drop. We either caught or fought and lost some nice two and three pound beeliners. They were down there all the time, but wouldn't hit anything but the shrimp.
In the frenzy that followed I managed to forget to take any pictures. But when I hooked up to a freight train on that eight pound line, I did remember. After a thirty minute fight that wore both me and the fish out, I boated a nice 12 pound amberjack. I probably could have kept him for food, since the smaller ones are very good, but after a fight like that, I had to release him. A quick revival, a kick or two, and he was on his way.
One thing did make me rather angry that day. As we sat over the good bottom, another boat approached us and idled all around us. They finally anchored less than fifty feet from us, which is a fairly common and accepted practice over "public" fishing spots and artificial reefs. But this yahoo had the nerve to don mask, fins, tanks, and a power head spear gun and go over the side. Even then, I held my cool. But when his bubbles began rising from the bottom around my boat, I figured enough was enough. I packed it in, pulled my marker, and headed in to put it on the hill.
When I talked to Tom, I found out he did not catch a king. But, he did see one, and caught several Spanish mackerel. After he had released all his live bait, battened down all his tackle, and prepared to put his boat on the hill, a king that he estimated to be about thirty pounds skyrocketed right in front of his boat, busting up a huge school of pogies. It always seems to happen that way, doesn't it?
As for my yahoo spearfishing friend, may someone be as nice to you as I was.
We were not alone in our quest.
My wife, Susan, and I in my boat were accompanied by my son, Tom, and his fishing partner, Michael Burk, in Tom's Carolina Skiff. We were but two of many boats along the Northeast Florida beaches catching pogies in cast nets and slow trolling them north and south.
Several boats reported catching kingfish, but we were not in that count. After a lengthy trolling episode, all we could muster were a pair of ten pound jack crevalle that doubled up on Tom's kingfish rigs.
I decided that we needed to put a fish or two in the boat, if for no other reason than my wife was with me on one of the few trips she makes every year. She is my great partner on the trips she takes, and I needed to get her into some action.
Around 10 in the morning, I decided to break out and find a fish. The west wind held the seas to three feet or less, so I headed offshore to some good bottom about twenty miles out. The relatively calm seas put us over the good bottom in less than an hour.
After several anchoring attempts finally ended in a good marking bottom below, I broke out the bottom rigs and began fishing.
Susan succumbed to a rather heavy ground swell and did what most people do who feel queasy. She laid down on some boat cushions thinking that would help. Actually, laying down is probably the worst thing you can do on the ocean with a queasy stomach. So I fished alone while she fell out of commission.
After several frustrating bouts with heavy bottom tackle, I broke out the light spinning gear. This interested Susan, and together we caught several beeliners, seabass, and porgies off the structure ninety feet below. I had purchased a variety of bait, something I seldom do, but with my wife on the trip, I wanted to have all the bases covered. So, with a live shrimp, I decided to experiment.
I tied a half-ounce jig head on my spinning outfit, and carefully threaded a live shrimp on the hook. You must realize that no one uses live shrimp offshore, particularly bottom fishing in ninety feet of water. The small fish take the shrimp off before you can feel them.
I sent the jig head and shrimp down, and long before it reached the bottom, the line stopped leaving the reel. I lifted up, felt the pressure of a fish, and set the hook. What happened after that was a learning experience.
Beeliners are considered members of the snapper family - albeit a remote cousin's branch. Any snapper worth his salt will hit a live shrimp, I thought. And my inclination was right.
While we couldn't catch any large beeliners on heavy tackle and squid, we were able to get bit by some very nice beeliners on almost every drop. We either caught or fought and lost some nice two and three pound beeliners. They were down there all the time, but wouldn't hit anything but the shrimp.
In the frenzy that followed I managed to forget to take any pictures. But when I hooked up to a freight train on that eight pound line, I did remember. After a thirty minute fight that wore both me and the fish out, I boated a nice 12 pound amberjack. I probably could have kept him for food, since the smaller ones are very good, but after a fight like that, I had to release him. A quick revival, a kick or two, and he was on his way.
One thing did make me rather angry that day. As we sat over the good bottom, another boat approached us and idled all around us. They finally anchored less than fifty feet from us, which is a fairly common and accepted practice over "public" fishing spots and artificial reefs. But this yahoo had the nerve to don mask, fins, tanks, and a power head spear gun and go over the side. Even then, I held my cool. But when his bubbles began rising from the bottom around my boat, I figured enough was enough. I packed it in, pulled my marker, and headed in to put it on the hill.
When I talked to Tom, I found out he did not catch a king. But, he did see one, and caught several Spanish mackerel. After he had released all his live bait, battened down all his tackle, and prepared to put his boat on the hill, a king that he estimated to be about thirty pounds skyrocketed right in front of his boat, busting up a huge school of pogies. It always seems to happen that way, doesn't it?
As for my yahoo spearfishing friend, may someone be as nice to you as I was.