World Record Pacific Bonefish from Honolulu, Hawaii

Triana holds seven all tackle and line class records for Pacific bones, including one 10-pounder.

“Pacific bonefish on ultra light tackle in Hawaii has been the most challenging record to break,” notes Triana. “It’s difficult to find a Pacific bonefish large enough to eclipse an existing record, because those
larger specimens are few and far between, and spook so easily.”  

World Record Yelloweye Rockfish from Seward, Alaska

Triana has captured 19 IGFA records in this small town two and a half hours south of Anchorage. Among the record-breaking species: yelloweye rockfish and Pacific cod.

“These species are some of the oldest fish on the planet, reaching 80 to 100 years old,” says Triana. “Having the opportunity to fish for large specimens gives you multiple chances to encounter that perfect fish.”

World Record Grass Carp in Miami, Florida

Triana’s hometown has provided him access to myriad oddball species including hornet tilapia, Orinoco sailfin catfish, Oscar, and a record-breaking 48-pound, 12-ounce grass carp caught in the suburb of Palmetto Bay.

“Grass carp were introduced into the South Florida canal systems decades ago to control the rapid growth of hydrilla weed that completely choked the waterways,” Triana explains. “They are the largest member of the minnow family, and grow to massive proportions.”

World Record Andalusian Barbel from Portugal

As Triana does for all his travels, including family trips, he researches species that are unique to the area. The Andalusian barbel record came in the summer of 2022 during a family vacation to Portugal, where they spent a good chunk of their time in the southern region of Algarve.

“The barbel is a common and popular freshwater game fish in the United Kingdom and throughout Europe,” Triana says. “They belong to the carp family, and can be found in river systems and reservoirs.”  

World Record Talang Queenfish from Dubai, United Arab Emirates

Before it was the megalopolis of today, Dubai was a fishing village, and Triana’s research revealed that Talang queenfish is a popular game fish in the Persian Gulf. Triana made the trip with his family in March 2022.

“I rigged a Clouser fly with 6-pound tippet, and waited for the chance to cast,” he says. “Like a light switch, schools of talang queenfish appeared all around the boat chasing small minnows. A queenfish attacked the fly. It fights down and dirty like a jack crevalle, but jumps like a tarpon. After multiple loops around the boat, I landed the fish.”

World Record Black Durgon from Varadero, Cuba

Triana wanted to explore the untapped reef fishery, but Cuba only allowed government-run fishing vessels that troll outside the reef line.

“We anchored in the clearest water I’ve ever seen, and I break out my light spinning rods with 6-pound-test line, and diced-up lobster for bait,” Triana recalls. “I can see the school of black durgon on the bottom.” He caught a 2-pound fish, topping the existing record of 1 pound, 14 ounces.

World Record Tiger Trout in Salt River, Wyoming

Call it world record by bycatch. While fly fishing along the banks of the Salt River in search of brown trout, Triana caught a baby tiger trout. He quickly made his way back to his car to reference the IGFA yearbook he always travels with to check the tiger trout records.

“I saw there was only a 2-pound fish as the existing record on 6-pound-test line class. I quickly put together my 6-pound spinning outfit and began casting a fly. It wasn’t too long before caught another tiger trout in the same exact area.” Except this time, it was a much larger specimen.

World Record Collared Large-Eye Bream from the Great Barrier Reef

Triana traveled to Australia in 2001 hoping to catch a black marlin. After the liveaboard anchored up one evening, “I rigged up one of my light tackle rods and began bottom fishing, catching a multitude of species,” Triana recalls. “One of them was a very big collared large-eye bream. I kept it on ice until I had a chance to do some research the next day.” It turned out he had caught an IGFA world record.

The post One Man’s Hunt for Record Fish appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

“Straight ahead is Poland and to the left is Estonia,” said Capt. Björn Persson, as he navigated the calm waters en route to the Baltic Sea. We were on our way to catch Baltic salmon, which are the same species as Atlantic salmon — ray-finned fish in the Salmonidae family. The Baltic’s Atlantic salmon are known for their massive size, with world records caught in Sweden, Denmark, Poland and Russia. And we were targeting the big ones: 30 pounds and up.  

We left minutes prior from the port of Trosa, located about an hour southwest of Stockholm. The boat ride through the Stockholm archipelago (Skärgårdens in Swedish) was calm and picturesque with World War II cannons visible on several of the small islands. This area forms the second largest archipelago in the world, containing approximately 30,000 islands. On this day, there were just as many sailboats as motorboats on the water.

Within 20 minutes, we arrived at the deep waters of the Baltic Sea. Persson switched over to the trolling motor. One by one, the captain let out line on his Abu Garcia Alphamar LC level winds, line-counting reels with large artificial spoons rigged to them.  

Unsure of the exact depth of the Atlantic salmon, we set out eight lines at depths of approximately 130, 165 and 195 feet. The captain used fluorescent planer boards to ensure the lines did not tangle and to help stagger the lines at different depths. Four more lines were set deeper, clipped to a pair of downriggers off the stern of the 21-foot center console. With twelve lines out in total, we were optimistic.

Soon enough, a rod bent over and the captain uttered something in Swedish that probably meant “fish on.” I grabbed the rod. The fight was fun, but I quickly reeled the fish to the boat. The captain looked at it and immediately flipped it off the line. We were on a mission for giant salmon, and Persson wanted a 2-plus-footer to keep, not what we had landed. Not the fish we were looking for. No time for pictures.

“You should have been here last week,” summed up the reminder of the day. Eventually time ran out, and the captain cooked up hamburgers and hotdogs on the bank of a small island. He told stories of giant Baltic salmon he caught in these waters, the size of the fish only limited by the length his arms stretched.

When to Go

Baltic Salmon season in Sweden is from June through August. It’s also a great time to catch northern pike and hundreds of European Perch in the many lakes in Sweden. If you are looking to make it a family trip, or want to do some sightseeing, I recommend going during the festival of midsummer that marks the summer solstice. That’s when one of the earth’s poles has its maximum tilt toward the sun and thus the longest day of sunlight in the year. Midsummer also happens to be one of the biggest holidays in Sweden. The locals dress in traditional Swedish outfits and sing and drink throughout the day.

Where to Go and How to Get There

The New York airports typically have several direct flight options into Sweden’s capital of Stockholm. If your bucket list is to see a pristine 196-foot, 400-year-old Viking warship, visit Vasa Museum in Stockholm. From there, take a car or train to Trosa, a lovely fishing and coastal town about an hour southeast of Stockholm. The area offers local markets to buy fresh seafood and produce from vendors and plenty of restaurants. 

What to Expect

Visiting Sweden in the summer is similar to going to the Great Lakes or Canada, so bring plenty of layers in case a hot summer day turns cool. A good day trolling for Baltic salmon might result in one or two keepers. Mix it up by scheduling a day of catching lots of perch and large pike at nearby lakes. Don’t worry, most of the locals speak English and are happy to point tourists in the right direction.

The post Trolling for Giant Salmon in the Baltic appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

Even as Capt. Lori Hall wrapped the anchor line around a cleat, I cast across a canal a short run from the boat ramp at Simmons Park in Ruskin, Florida. As my Yo-Zuri 3D inshore twitchbait touched down about a foot from the grassy bank, in inches-deep water, I quickly began a jerk-pause retrieve to keep it off the bottom. About three jerks into it, something smashed the lure, and a small snook sailed out of the water. Hardly a trophy, but still, a pretty nice payoff for the first cast of that fall day.

Hall, who runs Ladyfish Charters in Tampa Bay, fishes from Apollo Beach to the Sunshine Skyway Bridge. She had promised we’d find willing snook on the low flood tide, and so we did. That was our main quarry of the morning, and we caught a bunch. The twitchbait proved a hot ticket for quite a few snook—and many missed strikes—while live pilchards (more properly known as scaled sardines) also accounted for plenty of action. Hall’s generous live chumming near the boat certainly didn’t hurt.

Fishing Spots in Tampa Bay

A bit farther south from where we fished is the Terra Ceia Aquatic Preserve, also a great spot for snook. I’ve fished there successfully with angler Jose Chavez, a fishing industry vet, where we caught snook in the virtually hidden openings of creeks and bays.

“That’s one of my favorite areas to fish,” agrees retired guide Capt. Ray Markham, out of St. Petersburg. “The habitat in Terra Ceia has been relatively untouched by development and the encroachment of people, with lush mangroves and oyster bars in the clean water,” Markham says.

With winds light, we switched during the afternoon from fishing mangrove-rimmed bays and canals to drifting grass flats in the open bay in 3 or 4 feet of water. The turtle grass offered a welcome change from many areas of the beleaguered Indian River Lagoon on the east side of the state that I was used to. When it comes to water quality and habitat, Tampa Bay has really cleaned up its act over the past. But Tampa Bay waters do face new water quality issues, as do many parts of Florida.

Over a couple of days, we fished only a small ­portion of Tampa Bay; I felt we could have spent many days doing so and not have begun to explore even that limited area. In fact, Tampa Bay is Florida’s largest open-water estuary, covering more than 400 square miles. The main shipping channel is a busy place, since Tampa is one of the 10 largest ports in the nation. Fortunately, we remained far from that sort of traffic.

Tarpon Fishing Tampa Bay

The high flooding tide meant good conditions, and while Hall often finds redfish ­readily available over these flats, we didn’t locate them that afternoon. But from her high vantage point standing at the Blue Wave’s second station, Hall did spot a big bonnethead shark cruising the ­shallows, in its typical zigzag fashion, just off the bow.

“Bonnethead, 10 o’clock!” she called out, and my daughter, Rachel, visiting from Virginia, dropped a pilchard just ahead of the fish, about 40 feet out. It looked like the shark would pass nearby but keep moving on when it suddenly turned 90 degrees and pounced on its newfound prize. The circle hook bit where it was supposed to, and the fish offered a real test for a tiny Daiwa with 10-pound braid and St. Croix Legend XTreme Inshore rod, making repeated runs around the boat.

Chavez focuses much of his attention on snook in the lower bay, particularly during outgoing tides, when he works mangrove points, oyster bars, docks and potholes. “Snook basically set up on prime ambush points where there’s a good current,” he says. Find places where water has to funnel through a choke point on an ebb tide, and “you can expect snook to be there waiting for an easy meal.”

Read Next: Tarpon Fishing Tips

As much fun as snook are, Hall—who has been fishing Tampa Bay since the mid-’80s—cites tarpon as her favorite of all the bay’s many gamefish species. And she’s caught some monsters, including “the greatest catch of my life, a 214-pound tarpon.” Once in a while, Murphy takes a nap, as on that day when ESPN happened to be on board filming a show and caught it all.

For tarpon, Markham’s a summertime guy. While even then it can be hit or miss, the action can also be “insane—especially when you see pods of fish coming right at the boat,” he says. “Big-game fishing in the shallows.” Then, he focuses on days around new and full moons when big tides flush crabs and shrimp out of the bays. Similarly, Chavez likes May and June for tarpon, when they might move in by the thousands, he says.

Fishing All Year Long in Tampa Bay

And while Markham is also a snook devotee, he says: “In the fall, I love fishing reds. They can be big and, like bulldogs, they just don’t give up. When the water temperature in the bay drops to between 72 and 78 degrees, with oxygen levels strong, that’s prime topwater time.”

Of course, jacks of various sizes patrol the bay, and when they’re on the attack, can be a blast. They gave us some good battles on our second day out with Hall. Somewhat less likely, a nice flounder surprised one angler. Not many Tampa Bay fishermen target flounder, mostly catching them incidentally, but they’re here. “Find good sand-and-shell or grassy habitat with channels and potholes in moving water, and you’re likely to find flounder much of the year,” Markham says.

With so much variety when it comes to ­gamefish species, the bay offers worthwhile action in all seasons. Chavez does indeed fish it year-round but says winter’s his preferred season. That’s when he really likes fishing the negative low tides, “especially during the start of the incoming. That really narrows down the places where the fish can be, and you get to transition up the flat to mangrove shorelines with them as the tide comes in.” Chavez acknowledges that conditions in the dead of winter are often cold and breezy, “but the fishing’s great, and it’s uncrowded because most people don’t want to deal with the discomfort. It really is my favorite time of year.”

Catching Two Redfish at the Same Time

These productive waters harbor many surprises, and Markham recounts his most indelible Tampa Bay memory: “One morning I was fishing a small cove within lower Tampa Bay using ultralight spinning tackle with 6-pound Ande tournament monofilament and a tandem-rigged jig. As I gazed down the shoreline, I saw what looked like a school of huge jack crevalle racing up the shore, eating everything in its path. Mullet were flying, schools of glass minnows were showering, and everything was getting devoured. I waited until the school came just within casting range and made a throw ahead of the lead fish.

“Instantly I was hooked up, and my 70-yard spool of line disappeared at a quick rate. I started the outboard to give chase and get back line. As I did, I got close enough to see that I hadn’t hooked a jack crevalle but a big redfish that looked to be at least 34 inches. When it saw the boat, it bolted back toward the school.

“As I followed it to regain line, the fish caught up to the school, and I felt a big thump on the line. Instantly the fish was ripping off drag again, and then the line went limp and I cranked hard, ­realizing the fish was running toward the boat.

“That’s when I saw that I now had two fish on my line—and the second fish was even larger. But the tandem rig soon parted, and I was left with only one fish—the larger one. I fought it for another 15 minutes or so before I finally subdued it, taking a measurement before I released her. She was a 46-incher with a massive girth. She bottomed out both scales on my boat, so I don’t know the weight, but to this day it remains the biggest redfish I have ever landed, and on 6-pound ­tournament mono at that!”

Planning A Fishing Trip to Lower Tampa Bay

Who: We fished with Capt. Lori Hall, Ladyfish Charters (ladyfish​charters.com, 813-967-5032). Good knowledge, good rig, good gear; easy to recommend. Special kudos to Hall for her people skills—her patience and great sense of humor make her an exceptional guide for families who want to fish the bay.

Where: We stayed on Anna Maria Island, which guards the yawning entrance to Tampa Bay at its southern end, due west of Bradenton. There, we spent several days and nights at Waterline Resort (waterlineresort.com) in one of its Island Suites, and were thoroughly impressed. The suite was provisioned more like a luxury home than a vacation unit, and the kitchen had everything we could possibly want or need. Comfortable and quiet, the suite made us regret having to leave. Also, the resort staff raised “cheery” to a whole new level I hadn’t seen; if these folks don’t truly love their jobs, they’re world-class actors.

More: The Tampa Bay/St. Petersburg area has much to offer for extended trips or larger groups. You can explore it all online at visittampabay.com and visit ­stpeteclearwater.com.

The post Fish Tampa Bay for Inshore Action appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

Around two million years ago, the massive glaciers that once blanketed much of North America retreated for the last time. In present-day central and western New York State, what was left behind can only be described as heaven on earth for freshwater anglers. Covering almost 9,000 square miles and spanning 14 counties, the Finger Lakes Region is made up of eleven glacially carved lakes in total.

A quick scan of Google Earth will reveal that the lakes run north-to-south and are strikingly narrow, perfectly described as fingers. The region locally is referred to as the “banana belt” of upstate New York as the massive amount of water helps keep winters slightly warmer and summers cooler than nearby areas. From East to West, the lakes are positioned as follows: Otisco, Skaneatles, Owasco, Cayuga, Seneca, Keuka, Canandaigua, Honeoye, Canadice, Hemlock and Conesus.

As temps begin to dip and fall bites grow red hot, hook up the boat, and take part in some of the finest multi-species fishing along the East Coast.

Top Species to Target at the Finger Lakes

The Finger Lakes read like an Eagles album with a collection of the greatest hits of freshwater fish found in North America. To add a dose of local insight, I caught up with Kurt Hoefig, a local guide and fixture in the area’s fishing scene.

“I tell my clients all the time, there are not a lot of places in the country that have access to all the natural bodies of water that we have in this region,” said Hoefig. “The DEC does an exceptional job managing our fisheries, there is no off-season when it comes to fishing in the finger lakes.” 

By and large, all eleven lakes support booming populations of both largemouth and smallmouth bass as deep rock and expanses of shallow structure exist in ample quantities. The same can be said with panfish opportunities as yellow perch, crappie and bluegill are found in impressive numbers region-wide.

The fun does not stop there, as select lakes offer golden shots at lake trout, brown trout, landlocked Atlantic salmon and rainbow trout. While there are plenty of productive northern pike fisheries in the Northeast, many lakes lack the forage and open water necessary to grow large specimens. The Finger Lakes kick out true monsters in the 20-pound class year after year. Also, as an added Esox bonus, there is consistent tiger muskie fishing to be had for those willing to put the time in.

The gem of the Empire State, the mighty walleye is also present in large numbers and they grow to impressive sizes in multiple lakes. Other species that should be on your list of species to target include include channel catfish, longnose gar, bowfin and freshwater drum.

The Best Finger Lakes for Fishing

With eleven lakes in total, keying in on desired species and techniques is critical to maximizing time. For the bass crowd, Cayuga Lake is a must-fish as the lake has become a consistent stop on high-level tournament trails. It is home to the New York state record smallmouth bass of 8 pounds, 6 ounces, and it recently produced the state record largemouth bass, a brute that tipped the scales at 12 pounds, 6 ounces. It is not just a warm-water fishery, as Cayuga’s populations of trout and salmon greatly benefited from the introduction of round gobies. Hoefig mentioned that “in 2013, gobies were first found in the lake. It did not take long for lake trout to key in on the new food source and feed on them in relatively shallow water areas. This has created world-class opportunities to cast for big lakers.”

For a truly unique angling experience, Seneca Lake, the self-proclaimed, “lake trout capital of the world,” reaches depths of more than 600 feet. The impressive depths and rare instances of ice coverage also make Seneca Lake home to the sonar testing facility of the U.S. Navy. This is where the sonar units used on nuclear submarines are put through their paces. In addition to a thriving lake trout population, landlocked salmon are ubiquitous and susceptible to downrigger fishing year-round.

My favorite, located half an hour from the city of Syracuse, is Otisco Lake. Essentially, it can be fished as two different lakes, as a causeway splits the lake on the south end. The lower basin is chock full of dirty water and weed beds, perfect for largemouth and panfish. The upper end is clear and deep with endless structure and great populations of smallmouth and walleye. Be warned, tiger muskies roam the entire body of water and can show up out of nowhere. Otisco is also one of the more consistent bets for safe ice for ice fishing on an annual basis.

About the Finger Lakes Region

If I am on a fishing trip, I rarely pay any mind to other available entertainment options in the area. This is not the case with the Finger Lakes region, as the temperate climate creates an amazing lineup of breweries and wineries along with a deep selection of restaurants showcasing the fresh ingredients grown and produced throughout the area. For fans of speed, Watkins Glen International Speedway boasts world-class racing action all summer long at an affordable price. If you need a good leg stretch after a long day on the trolling motor, trails leading to scenic summits are numerous and worth the hike. For more information on the area, check out visitfingerlakes.com.

The post New York’s Finger Lakes: A Multi-Species Mecca appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

Although Capt. Shane York is a regular at his local gym, at least a portion of his body-builder’s physique can be attributed to an annual run of bull redfish at an expansive bay near his favorite south Louisiana port. Every year in the late summer stretching through the fall, mature reds invade the flats in the lower Barataria Basin, and absolutely engorge themselves on bait stocks that must be seen to be believed. York is always there to greet them, armed with soft-plastic paddle tails under corks.

“You can throw whatever you want, and they’ll hit it, but that cork makes it pretty much a guarantee,” he said.

York has been kind enough to invite me to experience the bull-red blitz the last two seasons. Last year, we left predawn out of Myrtle Grove Marina, and caught them until neither of us could bear the thought of reeling in another fish. That was at 8 a.m. All the reds were pushing 40 inches.

“The smallest bull we’ve caught out here so far this year was 35 inches,” York said that morning.

Two years ago, I absolutely wrecked my biceps reeling in bull after bull, including my personal best, a 44-inch fish. Although mature redfish conduct their spawning duties in deep passes along the coast, that’s not where York finds the fish when they’re in feeding mode. He hunts for extensive flats of uniform 3- to 4-foot depths that hold bait, and when he finds one, success is almost assured, regardless of water clarity.

“We catch them out here in absolute chocolate milk,” he said.

The run coincides with the migration of white shrimp leaving Louisiana’s marshes this time of year. York releases every bull he catches, but if you were to cut open one’s belly, it would be jammed full.

Bull Red Drum Eat Speckled Trout

“You would find a lot of shrimp, but you’d also find some speckled trout,” he said. “They feast on those little speckled trout.”

In fact, the trout are such a significant part of the bull reds’ diet that York knows he’s in the right area when aggressive specks and white trout are the first to yank down his cork. Many of the specks are under Louisiana’s 13-inch minimum size limit, but some are solid keepers. York doesn’t mind putting those in the box if his clients want to take some fish home.

Often, diving seagulls give away the location of productive flats, so York said it pays to always be observant. He had just recently discovered the flat that produced so many fish for us last year.

“We were fishing one area, and we were moving to another area,” he said. “As we were driving across the flat, we saw two huge blowups right next to the boat. We stopped, put the Power-Pole down, made two casts and immediately doubled up.”

York’s favorite color lure is black with a chartreuse tail, but he also has success with white and straight chartreuse. He will be putting all those colors to use for the next few months. Once the fish show up in late July or early August, they stick around for a while.

“They’ll be out here really good through October or November, but you’ll still have some stretching into December,” he said.

By then, York will surely look even more ripped.

The post Louisiana’s Late Summer Redfish Blitz appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

As we skimmed over the mirror-calm surface of Saint Andrew Bay, en route from Sun Harbor Marina to the DuPont (Highway 98) bridge that separates Saint Andrew from East Bay, I marveled at how large an area of inshore waters sprawled northwest, northeast and southeast of Panama City. I had no idea.

“Our entire system includes four bays,” explained Capt. Matt Smith, our guide for the day: “West Bay, North Bay, Saint Andrew Bay and East Bay.” These total up to nearly 170,000 acres of water, Smith pointed out. And a glance at a map shows an astonishing amount of fishable shoreline.

Given the ideal weather on that ­early-summer morning, I kept looking for other boats with anglers also intent on hooking some bull redfish. But as Smith positioned his 21-foot Cobia bay boat near the bridge channel and dropped anchor, I noted that we had the whole area to ourselves.

Bull Redfish at the Bridges

We intended to fish some of the Storm soft plastics that my fishing partner, Dan Quinn, had brought down with him from Minnesota. Smith had plenty of small, live menhaden — cast-netted that morning — filling his baitwell, and he explained that plastics could be dynamite in shallower areas of the bays, but here in nearly 20 feet of water, they were a much tougher sell.

Nevertheless, the intrepid Quinn did hook a good fish on a Storm 360GT Searchbait soft-plastic, his first bull red drum ever. But bowing to the power of live baits, we put some of Smith’s pogies to good use, landing several more reds to at least 30 pounds, giving our light ­spinning outfits quite a workout.

Then the air show started. It takes a considerable distraction to make die-hard anglers redirect their attention from a live bait in imminent likelihood of being eaten by a rapacious trophy-size redfish, but when F-16s, F-22s and other fighter jets began sneaking up on us — moving so fast that unless watching, we were aware of them only when they thundered by overhead in the blink of an eye — it became hard to concentrate on other things.

There’s nothing to bring out the 8-year-old in a lot of guys like fighter jets, and it turned out we were fishing in their flight path — lots and lots of them — practicing takeoffs and landings at Tyndall Air Force Base, a stone’s throw south of the bridge.

I think Smith was amused at our awe, having long since gotten used to this phenomenon. Gradually, I managed to focus on the reason we were here. It helped that the frequency of overflights slowed. About the same time, the tide slowed as well, as then did the redfish bite.

Light-Tackle Fishing Action in the Bay

Fortunately, we began seeing splashes and swirls as something drove small white bait to the surface. I picked up a little Shimano Stradic 3000 and slid a Rapala Shadow Rap Shad in an albino shiner color (think white pearl) onto my snap, tossed it out, and began erratically working the lure jerkbait-style, in sharp, quick snaps. Almost at once, in a silver flash, I had hooked up. The bushwhacker turned out to be a small bluefish.

Quinn joined me, throwing a small 360 GT Largo Shad on a light lead-head, and both of us stayed busy with slashing strikes of small but always aggressive blues, with ladyfish and Spanish mackerel mixed in. Soon, Smith weighed anchor and we headed farther up into East Bay.

Somewhere in the vicinity of mid-bay, the sounder displayed the bottom abruptly rising from about 8 feet to 3 feet or so — a large sandy shoal. Though usually fishier (and apparently at times troutier) than it proved today, we did hook some jacks, and I landed another, considerably larger, Spanish mackerel while fishing the same Shadow Rap Shad, and missed what might have been a small tarpon.

By this time — midmorning — we had caught sight of maybe two or three other boats with anglers, and appreciated the tranquility of the East Bay. That, however, was about to change.

Flounder in the Free-for-All

Flounder fishing in these waters can be productive this time of year if you fish the right place. On this day, Smith said, the right place would be Saint Andrew Bay Pass, where the Gulf funnels into and out of the extensive bay system surrounding Panama City.

The pass and waters around it proved to be pretty antithetical to our experience back in the bays, with all manner and sizes of boats heading in and out. Despite the traffic, Smith dropped anchor and, bouncing in the washboard of wakes, we dropped live pogies to the bottom, about 30 feet down. Once again, Smith proved true to his word: Shortly after, we boated our first southern flounder and, just after another, a small gag grouper.

Intent on adding to the day’s already notable variety, Smith moved us to the end of the east jetty, a favorite spot to catch mangrove (gray) snapper. Bingo: We caught several gray snapper, on little liveys just off the rocks (keeping our lines away from the personal watercraft dashing around jetty’s end).

By then it was about midday. Smith, like most inshore guides here fishing the long days of summer, generally runs two half-day trips — roughly 7 a.m. to noon and 2 p.m. to 6 p.m., or thereabouts. So we headed back to the marina, plenty satisfied after a busy, fishy outing.

June’s a great time to connect with the variety these bays offer, but then, it’s hard to go wrong anytime. “We truly have a year-round inshore fishery here,” Smith says. That includes trout and reds on the flats, spring through fall (the morning we fished, the tide wasn’t right for that fishery).

October and November are Smith’s favorite months to focus on fishing the inlet for bull reds. (Smith customarily releases redfish to help ensure the future of this outstanding fishery.)

March and April find him there targeting sheepshead. Summer baitfish migrations offer the best action for flounder, mangrove snapper and Spanish mackerel, as well as species drawn in by the bait, including jacks, bluefish, blacktip sharks and sometimes tarpon.

Offshore Fishing Panama City Beach

A change-up was in store for our second and third days fishing out of Panama City. Armed with slightly heavier gear, we met up with Capt. Matt Parramore and our third angler, who happened to be Matt’s spouse, Jennifer, in his Cape Horn 27 at Panama City Marina to fish offshore.

The sunny, calm weather of the day before had given way to gray skies and the sound of rolling thunder here and there, so we opted to target nearshore waters with bait and lures — again, with variety in mind. Fishing anywhere from a couple of miles off the beach up to 10 or 12 miles out, we spent a good bit of our time drift-jigging in 60 to 130 feet of water on a variety of spots from Parramore’s little book of numbers.

Typical of the northern Gulf, large structural relief from the generally flat bottom wasn’t required to find fish; even small areas of modest rubble could hold predators. Casting a mix of Williamson Koika metal slow-pitch jigs and Arrow Head lead-head bucktail jigs, we did particularly well with king mackerel of respectable size (and some a good bit larger), as well as — inevitably — red snapper (though we released all of them by law) and other species.

Had red snapper season been open and had we wanted to target them, Parramore could have put us on some larger wrecks typically covered with snapper. Beyond red snapper, a dozen or more species will very possibly be pulled over the gunwales on any given day fishing offshore of Panama City.

With the jigs performing well, we ended up using few of the live cigar minnows that Parramore had bought at a bait receiver after leaving the marina. We added a couple of big kings to the total by trolling Rapala’s deep-diving X-Rap Magnum 40s.

While drifting the northern Gulf, it can pay to try whatever artificials you think could work. I had fun with some smaller kings and tunny while casting and retrieving with hard jerks a 5-inch X-Rap Saltwater crankbait on one of the light (inshore) spinning outfits I’d brought. Although we didn’t break out the kites that day, Parramore is a fan of dangling live runners from kites for big kings and other surface-oriented game fish.

Peak Time for Pelagics off Panama City

While the action can be good anytime of the year, weather permitting, late spring/early summer is Parramore’s favorite period. “The water’s starting to warm up, and baitfish are migrating in close,” attracting coastal pelagics such as cobia and kings, as well as amberjack and snapper. About that time, larger bluewater pelagic game fish turn on as well. While Parramore typically focuses on the variety of coastal pelagics within an hour or so of the beach, the skipper is all about bluewater big game. Given the shallow slope of the Gulf, he points out that a run of 60 to 120 miles is required to fish where blue marlin roam.

On the other hand, offshore game fish (other than blue marlin) can be found at times within a few miles of the coast. “I’ve seen people catch dolphin and sailfish off the pier!” he points out.

Species Availability: Panama City

Whether near or far, dolphin (mahi) rate as a favorite for Parramore. “I love fishing for dolphin. We run-and-gun a lot, looking for weeds and floating debris. Dolphin are usually under whatever we find.”

Parramore is a member of the Dolphinfish Research Tagging Program; he notes that a dolphin he tagged 20 miles off Panama City was recaptured 45 days later off Freeport in the Bahamas.

My take-away from this visit to Panama City is that there’s no shortage of activities and events going on in a destination that is succeeding as a Gulf tourist mecca. But anytime I should happen to be back here, I’ll be focusing on the fishing, since there’s always something going down, inshore or offshore.

About Panama City, Florida

Panama City is part of what is widely termed Florida’s Emerald Coast, after the color of nearshore waters, at times having a distinct clear-green hue. Many of the activities that attract visitors are water oriented, not surprising given the waters of several sprawling bays and, outside, the Gulf beyond the sandy beaches. To get more info on all that Panama City has to offer, visit destinationpanamacity.com.

The post Panama City Fishing Paradise appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

How often is the word ­“guaranteed” included in a fishing invite? And how often is that fishing invitation an opportunity to target 75-plus-pound sharks that violently attack popping plugs and flies? Those who are skeptical of such claims have never fished for south Atlantic’s sportiest sharks.

Spinners and blacktips — two of the most acrobatic sharks in the Atlantic — invade South Florida Atlantic beaches by the score each fall and winter. Most sharks don’t jump when hooked, but these two similar species leap clear out of water like makos. Yet, surprisingly, I often have to entice new anglers to try this style of shark fishing.

Shark Action off the Beach

It was, by Florida’s wimpy ­standards, a cold winter morning in Riviera Beach. Reliable 15-knot southeast winds straightened out the flags at the Newport Cove Marina as we boarded Capt. Tore Turney’s 31-foot Contender Reel Lucky. Ten minutes later we were outside Palm Beach Inlet, cruising north along the beaches of Singer Island.

Turney stood at the bow of the boat. He leaned back against a dock line fixed to the bow cleat as he directed his mate, Capt. Ken Schlecther, which way to steer the boat. Within a few minutes, Turney pointed out signs of sharks, including fish scooting away from our boat and distant free-jumpers. We anchored 200 yards from the shore break in 15 feet of clear, green water.

My three friends joining me as anglers only had prior experience shark fishing with bait. Today would be different. Today we were going to use lures too. But only one of them had any experience casting plugs, so we started with natural bait.

Turney started chumming with a block of ground bunker (menhaden) and a whole little tunny (aka bonito or false albacore), tail-roped to a stern cleat, then sliced a few times to release scent into the chum slick. Fishing outfits included medium-­spinning and light-conventional rigs, loaded with 20- and 30-pound-test braid. A circle hook, connected to a few feet of single-strand wire, was attached to a heavy braided leader for abrasion resistance. Each angler cast out a slab of false albacore in different directions from the boat.

Less than a minute passed before the first rod doubled over and the reel started to scream. John Kauffman, from Longwood, Florida, grabbed the rod from a bow holder and hung on as a shark soared free of the water. Then the hooked fish began a sustained run straight toward the beach, with Kauffman running toward the stern in hot pursuit.

As he passed by Phil Cohen, from Boynton Beach, Florida, Cohen’s rod doubled over with a repeat performance from another bronze-colored shark. His shark dragged him in the opposite direction. Amid the excitement of both anglers, Mike Richmond, an angler from Miami Beach, yelled out, “I’ve got one too!” The chaotic triple hookup happened in a matter of seconds — a common situation with winter sharks along the Palm Beach coast.

Kite Fishing for Sharks

With each of my friends busy fighting his fish without crossing each other’s lines, I helped Turney set up his kite rig for luring sharks to the surface. The setup is simple, with three release clips and a conventional outfit to control the hookless slab dangling in the water. False albacore, barracuda or jack crevalle are perfect baits. (A teaser bait connected to a regular setup is another option, but it’s not nearly as far-reaching or effective as the kite approach.)

When sharks are hanging back in the slick or near the surf line, a kite and sturdy hand on the kite reel can lure fish toward the boat by walking the teaser bait along the surface. Be ready to repeatedly jerk it away from an interested shark or even lift it into the air when suspended from a kite. The kite itself allows the bait to fall back to the surface with a splash, exciting and frustrating the pursuer.

Sometimes a shark does catch a teaser bait and steals it. When this happens, another slab is sent aloft attached to the next kite clip, and the kite is allowed to fly farther from the boat. This allows for three lost teaser baits before bringing the kite back to the first clip again.

After about 20 minutes, Kauffman’s shark circled the boat and passed under our taut anchor line. Turney ran to the bow and helped Kauffman pass his rod under the rope, following the shark. This happened about six times with each angler’s fish before finally getting the sharks to the boat for successful releases.

Turney normally puts new strip baits in the water after each released fish, but we decided against it. With everyone warmed up, the time was right to pull out the topwater lures.

Blacktip Versus Spinner Sharks

During the heat of the battle, and even at boatside, it takes a keen eye to distinguish between blacktip and spinner sharks. The most easily recognized difference between the two species is that the tip of the anal fin on a spinner shark is black. Strangely enough, on the blacktip, the anal-fin tip is the same (gray) color as the fin.

When these species are hooked and jump into the air, sometimes they’ll spin like a well-thrown football. Your first thought might be that you’ve hooked a spinner shark, but don’t be fooled — scientists point out that both species can execute the same aerials. Both species prefer water temperatures near 73 degrees Fahrenheit, which helps explain why they head to South Florida in winter to reproduce. Mixed in with other shark species, the blacktip and spinner aggregations along South Florida help make up the largest annual shark migration in U.S. waters.

Best Lures for Sharks

I had brought along three favorite spinning outfits: 7-foot, 12- to 20-pound Star rods with Shimano Stradic 8000 reels loaded with 20-pound braid. A 10-foot abrasion leader of 200-pound-test braided line separates the 20-pound main line from the 2-foot wire leader. I use the heavy braid because it is softer, thinner and more flexible than fluorocarbon or mono, allowing for longer and easier casts. Still, the necessary knot connections limit casting distance of even the most aerodynamic lure. A high cast toward the suspended teaser takes advantage of the same wind holding up the kite.

I’ve used hookless poppers in the past to play with excited sharks and tease them in for fly-fishermen, but typically, popping plugs are armed and dangerous. Releasing sharks landed on bait requires cutting the single-strand wire leader close to the fish’s mouth. Releasing a shark that attacked a lure with trebles is much harder to accomplish. The thought of a shark swimming away with a multihook lure in its face bothers me, so I came up with a lure modification that easily and safely releases them. The trebles are removed and only a single tail hook is used. Wire leader is run through the split rings in a way that allows for safe and easy removal of the plug.

Bright orange and yellow are the best colors for flies, so I use comparable colors with plugs. A Gibbs’ Pencil Popper spray-painted bright orange and sprinkled with gold sparkle is one of my favorite presentations. I also cast bright-yellow red-head Bass Pro poppers.

The plan was to introduce my friends to the thrill of hooking these fish at the surface. I started with Kauffman, who has experience casting to redfish, trout and snook. I had him cast one of my modified poppers as close as possible to the suspended kite bait and showed him how to make that lure dance, with the rod butt between my legs, holding the rod blank just above the foregrip. Then I began a rhythmic ­back-and-forward retrieve while slowly cranking the reel.

The pencil popper stood tall on its tail with most of its body out of the water. Each rod gyration made the plug’s head swing back and forth and slam into the water’s surface. The lure hardly moved away from the teaser while still creating a white froth and staying in the strike zone. After a couple of tries, Kauffman got the hang of it. He was concentrating so hard on the technique that a sharky surface explosion surprised him.

A robust hook-set is required if a shark has the plug firmly in its teeth. Often the result is the shark spitting the plug before the hook sets. That happened the first time for Kauffman, but soon after, he hooked up. The shark ripped line from the reel and greyhounded across the surface as everyone cheered. Then, the shark turned sharply toward the bow.

While Kauffman fought his fish, Turney had to keep full attention on the teaser bait; several times a shark would sneak up and grab the bait without first showing itself at the surface.

Kauffman finally had his fish circling the boat and causing the usual excitement at the anchor line. With the heavy braid back on the reel, it was easy for Turney to grab the plug with one hand. The plug and attached feathers slid up the metal leader, stopping at a barrel swivel 3 feet away from the shark’s teeth. With no hooks swinging around and little need to take a leader wrap, Turney grabbed the plug to control the fish. With the plug as a handle, anglers can reach down to remove the hook or cut the wire close to the fish’s mouth. If the hook point sticks out through the fish’s skin, a leader man can grab the hook bend with a pair of pliers. Cut the wire at the hook eye, and the needle-eye hook slides out through the puncture outside the mouth.

High fives were given to an exhausted Kauffman after the release. Richmond and Cohen continued casting and popping but just couldn’t get a shark to grab the popper. We finally helped them by rigging and casting out a couple of bait teasers. They retrieved their plugs alongside the bait teasers and both hooked up immediately.

After a couple of sharks each, my friends begged off fishing, so I pulled out my 12-weight fly rod. I use 8 feet of 60-pound nylon-coated leader; an 18-inch, 20-pound-test tippet; and a short shock tippet tied to a bright-orange gold-flecked popper fly. I hooked up almost immediately, and after a 45-minute fight, had some help from Turney releasing my shark.

Everyone agreed that popper fishing for the sharks was a blast. After the day was over, I added three more believers to my list of shark sight-fishing converts.

How to Rig A Shark Plug

Remove the treble hooks and add heavy-duty split rings [A] to the head, midsection and rear of the popper. A needle-eye 9/0 Mustad Sea Demon hook [B] attaches to single-strand No. 9 wire [C] by first passing the wire through the eye, around the back of the hook shank, and back through the eye again before making the haywire twist. This is important to keep the hook from swinging, plus it creates a loop used later to hold other key parts to the lure.

The wire is trimmed to 3½ feet in length, and large spacer beads [D] are threaded onto the wire. The spacers keep the hook 2 inches from the plug when the wire is fed through the three split rings (starting at the back of the plug, of course). Pull the wire all the way through and attach a swivel so the plug is ready to be knotted to the braided leader.

Then dress a piece of No. 12 wire to add even more flash to the plug. Sharks are often released with the hook still in their mouth, so try not to leave feathers hanging from their lip. Double the piece of wire over with a loop on each end so it totals 4 inches in length, and put the wire in a fly-tying vice.

First, add hollow gold Mylar piping [E] to the wire, with the cord removed and the strands spread out. Next, tie on a bunch of bright orange bucktail and feathers [F] splayed outward. To attach the dressed wire to the lure, the front loop of the wire is threaded onto the split ring at the tail of the lure. A wire-tie [G] attaches the rear loop of the 4-inch wire to the leader above the hook. When the plug slides up the leader wire during the release, that fluffy attractor pulls away from the hook and stays with the popper.

The post Nearshore Topwater Shark Fishing appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

After hours perched on the bow of my 20-foot center-console under a scorching sun, my brain had baked like a potpie. My vision blurred and my skin was burnt to a crisp.

As we slowly motored around the ocean, the calm, green water and the clear, blue sky melted into one stifling-hot expanse of emptiness. So when I spotted a long, brown fish swimming just under the surface, I shook my head and blinked my eyes. A second look confirmed the sighting.

“COBIA! COBIA! COBIA!” I yelled to my brother, Roger, who was at the helm.

He whispered: “Where? Where? Where?” as if his voice would spook the fish we had been searching for all day.

I pointed at the brown bomber and hollered again: “COBIA! COBIA! COBIA!”

Spring and Summer Cobia in North Carolina

The mid-Atlantic cobia fishing craze started a couple decades ago off North Carolina’s Outer Banks; local captain Aaron Kelly of Rock Solid Fishing ­was one of the first skippers to make sight-casting his business. On a May morning, I joined Kelly for a day on the water and a lesson on sight-casting. We met at Oregon Inlet Fishing Center; Kelly was carrying a handful of heavy spinning rods and a bucketful of slithering live eels. A few minutes later, his crew of three sharpshooters arrived. We boarded Kelly’s 27-foot center-console and left the marina under bright skies and light winds.

Once out in the open Atlantic, Kelly climbed his three-story tower and strapped into the crow’s nest. Without electronics in the tower, Kelly armed himself with a laser-guided temperature gun in one hand and a big spinning rod in the other. He instructed one of the crew to point the boat south and give it gas.

As we passed Pea Island and Rodanthe Village, Kelly called off water-temperature readings: 65, 66, 67 degrees. When the water hit 68, we slowed and started looking for signs of fish. Kelly says cobia prefer water between 68 and 73.5 degrees. He looks for fish from the mouth of Oregon Inlet to Diamond Shoals and from the surf line out to Whimble Shoals. Wrecks, reefs, tide lines, and even big rays and turtles can all host cobia, but most times the fish cruise out in the open.

We weaved our way south within a few miles of the beach, all eyes scanning the surface, while Kelly continued to test the water temperature. By the time we had worked our way to the iconic candy-striped Hatteras Lighthouse, the ocean was crystal clear and 72 degrees.

“There’s one,” Kelly yelled from his crow’s nest. A few seconds passed before my eyes found the big brown fish, which was 50 yards off and steadily moving toward the boat. The driver took the single diesel out of gear. The angler on the bow made a perfect cast that landed his bucktail right in front of the fish.

But the cobia spooked and dashed my hopes, until Kelly yelled, “There he is!” and pointed to the fish, which was now hiding on the bottom about 20 feet below. “Drop your bucktail and jig it,” Kelly commanded. The guy with the rod opened the bail and let the bucktail fall. We watched the bright-orange lure descend until it was lying next to what looked like a heavy log. The log shot forward and the angler’s line came tight. “That’s how it’s done!” Kelly yelled.

After we landed the fish, Kelly described to me exactly how it is done.

Cobia Sight Fishing Tactics

“Boat speed is critical,” he started, explaining that every boat’s engine makes different sounds and sends out different vibrations at different speeds. Each captain must experiment to find what works with his boat. “Get the pitch of the motor right, and they will come to you.”

If the fish isn’t on a collision course, Kelly turns to ­intercept it at an angle. “The worst thing is to T-bone one,” he said. “Don’t take the engine out of gear or change speed.”

Kelly keeps one angler ready with a live eel and another with a bucktail. When the boat passes within 25 yards of the fish, he instructs his first angler to cast. “I start with the eel, then follow up with a bucktail,” he said. If a cobia doesn’t react to those first casts, Kelly shows the fish a different bait. “You can throw a spot at them,” he said, “or a croaker, bluefish, mullet – I’ve even caught cobia on an oyster toad.”

After a cobia takes the bait. Kelly immediately motors away from the fish. “You’ve got to set the hook and keep tension on the fish,” he explained. “A lot of guys try to fight fish from a dead boat.”

If a cobia spooks, Kelly keeps his eyes open. “A lot of times the fish will pop up again heading in the same direction. Keep an eye out the back of the boat too. A lot of times they’ll sneak up behind you.”

For Kelly, perfect cobia conditions include the ­presence of bait, decent water clarity and light current. “Find a temperature break or an area of dead current around Cape Point [off Cape Hatteras],” he said, “and you’ll find fish.” The perfect cobia day would also feature a 10 to 15 mph southwest wind. “That puts the wind and current in the same direction, which pushes fish to the surface.”

Even on a less-than-perfect day, Kelly can still catch cobia. “We’ve had days when we caught 30 fish in the wind and rain,” he said. When the sky is overcast, he’ll throw out a block of menhaden chum and wait for the fish to come to him.

Kelly chases cobia from early May through the middle of September, but by June, most of the fish have moved to Chesapeake Bay. That’s where I picked up the chase in early June with Capt. Ben Shepard of Above Average Sportfishing, one of the first skippers to bring sight-casting to Virginia.

Traditionally, the state’s anglers anchored to chum for cobia, which attracts everything from car-hood rays to scrappy sharks. Years ago, Shepard learned the sight-fishing technique in Florida and unleashed it at home.

Virginia Cobia on Bucktails

“We’ll meet at 10 o’clock,” Shepard told me over the phone. “What time?” I asked incredulously. “Ten,” he repeated, “no hurry.” I agreed but still arrived early to Bubba’s Marina in Virginia Beach. Shepard and his buddy Jason Legg already had Shepard’s bay boat in the water and ready to go. By the time we left Lynnhaven Inlet, the sun was high and the air still and hot: perfect conditions for spotting cobia.

We didn’t run far. Shepard headed toward Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel, the 17-mile-long span that crosses the mouth of bay, and continued up Thimble Shoal toward Norfolk. About a mile north of the bridge, we stopped in the middle of nowhere and started looking for brown suits. We didn’t look long.

“Cobia,” Shepard announced. I searched the water with my inferior eyes and finally saw the fish cruising 50 yards off the bow.

Anxious, I prepared to throw a live eel with a spinning rod. Shepard stopped me. “That’s just a little fish,” he said. “Use this.” He handed me a lighter rod with a 1-ounce yellow bucktail jig.

The rod’s whippy tip allowed me to land the light lure close enough to get the small cobia’s attention. I retrieved the small jig across the surface, and the cobia went absolutely nuts – turning, swiping, slashing and annihilating the little lure.

After we landed and released the 30-pound fish, Shepard explained that he’d caught cobia of all sizes on the small, yellow jig. “I don’t know what they think it is,” he admitted, “but cobia can’t stand that thing.”

For bigger fish, he uses a 2- to 3-ounce bucktail. “You want a lot of hair and a big rubber tail so the bucktail sinks slower,” he said.

Like Kelly, Shepard first throws the eel. “A perfect cast lands five feet from the fish’s head,” Shepard says. When the cobia bites, he instructs his angler to open the bail and let the cobia take the bait for a couple of seconds. Then close the bail and let the line come tight.

“When you throw the bucktail, jig it fast and hard,” he says. Shepard has noticed that each cobia reacts differently to the jig. “If they’re not super interested, slow it down,” he suggests, “do something different.”

Finding Cobia on Chesapeake Bay

With Shepard’s instructions running around in my head, we continued north up Thimble Channel. Shepard told me the fish first show in late May along Thimble Shoal or Baltimore Channel. “From year to year, they seem to prefer one over the other,” he pointed out.

Water temperature plays a key role in finding cobia, he said. A pocket of water that’s cooler or warmer than the surrounding bay can hold fish. Look for any inconsistencies such as tide lines, floating debris or color changes. Shepard also prefers at least a little current.

By June, the fish spread out in the open bay. “We just cruise around looking for fins,” he said, which is exactly what we did that early June day.

After we tooled up Thimble Shoal Channel, Shepard changed course and headed northeast across Horseshoe Shoal. Almost as soon as we hit the edge of Baltimore Channel, we saw another fish. Shepard pointed toward a raft of small, purple jellyfish that was formed by the edge of a tide line. This cobia was bigger.

Jason Legg took the cast, landing the eel a few feet from the fish’s head. The squirming worm sank slowly. As expected, the big cobia didn’t let the eel get far. Legg came tight on the line and the fight erupted.

The fish ran and bulldogged then jumped twice, ­struggling to get its fat, brown body out of the water. Once the fish had spent its considerable energy, Shepard gaffed the 60-pounder and dispatched it with an aluminum billy club to keep the cobia from wreaking havoc on deck.

World-Class Cobia Fishing

With the fish photographed and stored in the fish box, we climbed back into the bay boat’s tower, and Shepard continued to tell me about cobia fishing in the bay. “Later in the summer, cobia home in on any structure in the lower bay, from bridge pilings, rocks, buoys, to tide lines and temperature breaks,” he said.

Toward the end of September, cobia leave the bay, and anglers find some amazing action along Virginia Beach’s oceanfront on buoys and tide lines. Shepard said he sees schools of 10 to 50 fish; once he saw a pod with at least 300 cobia. Shepard and Kelly have recorded outstanding catches from the Outer Banks to Virginia. Each averages 200 to 250 cobia in a season.

Kelly’s best-ever day happened in early spring. “We got to the Hook (inside Cape Point) at 7 a.m., and we were in the meat,” he told me, excitement from the day’s adventure still vibrating in his voice. “I looked to my left and saw 20, then to the right and saw another 15. There were singles, doubles, triples; they were all balled up. It was game on. We started whacking them.”

So many fish and only two anglers. Faced with the chance to have an epic day, Kelly knew he needed help. He called one of his most obsessed clients, and the guy drove down to the beach and swam out to Kelly’s boat. The three anglers worked like machines casting, hooking, fighting, unhooking and casting again until they had caught and released 72 cobia. “I’d never seen anything close to that ever,” he reflected.
 
With cobia fishing improving each year, anglers visiting the Outer Banks and Chesapeake Bay have a shot of seeing something truly special. “Drive around looking for cobia,” Shepard said, “and you won’t believe your eyes.”

Cobia Tackle Requirements

Sight-casting for cobia might be the simplest fishing experience ever conceived. “Just drive around all day and look for fish,” Capt. Shepard said. Rigging for these fish is easy too.

Two outfits cover all your cobia needs: a heavy-action spinning rod with a stiff tip for casting a bucktail, and a lighter stick with a slower bend to toss an eel. Both rods should measure at least 7 feet; reels should hold enough 50-pound braid and generate enough drag to tire a 100-pound cobia.

To rig the bucktail rod, use a Bimini/Albright connection to double the main line, and attach 3 feet of 60-pound fluorocarbon and a brightly colored 2- to 3-ounce bucktail. To the jig hook, add a rubber twister tail in pink, orange, chartreuse or white; the tail prevents the jig from falling too fast. For the lighter rod, use the same length of 40-pound fluoro and an 8/0 Gamakatsu Octopus Circle hook.

When Shepard encounters small cobia, he chooses a medium-action spinner that’s limber enough to throw a 1/8-ounce bucktail.

Cloudy skies don’t keep cobia enthusiasts off the water: When the sun hides, Shepard and Kelly break out a block of menhaden chum and drift their live eels through known cobia hangouts.

The post Fishing the Mid-Atlantic Cobia Run appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

Red drum is a highly sought-after species up and down the Mid-Atlantic seaboard. Many anglers have formed a special bond with redfish in large part because of their willingness to take a baited hook, artificial lure, or fly. Throughout their range, the strong fight of a redfish keeps anglers’ hearts pumping and adrenaline flowing.

Luckily, anglers in North Carolina have access to some of the largest red drum in the world. In August and September, mature “old drum” come inshore to spawn at the mouth of the Pamlico and Neuse rivers before moving off Outer Banks beaches where they can be targeted in October and November. People from all over the country travel to isolated destinations like Cedar Island, Swan Quarter, Ocracoke and Cape Lookout to try to catch and release a “citation” fish. North Carolina’s Saltwater Fishing Tournament, also known as the Citation Program, recognizes exceptional catches of North Carolina’s most popular sport fish. A citation red drum must measure at least 40 inches. The all-tackle world record, a 94-pound, 2-ounce giant, was landed in Cape Hatteras back in 1984.

Historically most old drum were caught by bait fishermen using large pieces of fresh cut mullet or menhaden late in the evening or at night. Anglers can also have success catching huge redfish during the day using a variety of different artificial lures. As the fishery has evolved, it has led to increased fishing pressure and sometimes very finicky fish. Capt. Mitchel Blake, of FishIBX Charters, grew up fishing the area over the past several decades and has seen the changes.

Where to Find Reds

Pamlico Sound is a large body of water with lots of depth transitions and different bottom compositions. There are no real hot spots — what was good yesterday may well be dead water today. Capt. Blake reminds anglers that the fish are always on the move, and they are significantly impacted by boat traffic. Some studies have shown that drum travel more than 25 miles a day, advancing along submerged edges and ledges in different depth ranges searching for bait and preparing to spawn.  

Successful anglers get on the water early to locate them when they are feeding in 2 to 4 feet of water. Sometimes it is obvious, as reds move a lot of water when they are feeding aggressively. Search for pushes and wakes as you move into skinny water; busting mullet and shrimp popping in the shallows are also good indicators of feeding drum in the area. As the day moves on, especially in areas where there is a lot of boat activity, reds tend to move into deeper water. But they can still be found feeding on large schools of menhaden at the surface. It’s the subtle things Capt. Blake sees that keep him on the fish as he slowly dissects the river each day, not the run-and-gun style so prevalent in the age of social media and Internet reports. 

As you approach an area that seems to have the right conditions, stealth is critical to success. Blake’s biggest piece of advice is to slow down and pay attention to the surroundings. Shut off the big motor early, before you push into the zone, and use the trolling motor as sparingly as possible to hold your position. If possible, use the wind to push you within casting range. Don’t just zoom from spot to spot, as you might be running over the fish while you stare at your phone or navigation screen. Things tend to materialize fast, so you want to be ready with several rods rigged with a couple of different offerings.  

Reviving Red Drum After the Fight

For artificials lures, there are several options that work well. I prefer to fish topwater lures, as I can make repetitive long casts with a big surface popper. Walk-the-dog-style lures work well, too. Both choices make great search baits, as they are designed to imitate the sounds of struggling baitfish. When a fish hears the commotion on the surface, they tend to rise and look for an easy meal. Having a big 50-pound redfish explode on a surface lure is about as exciting as it gets. Large popping-cork rigs work well, too, especially if fish seem skittish or are hesitant to eat a surface plug.

We need to do everything we can to care for these fish, as they are the breeding stock for the entire population. Be mindful and use appropriate tackle to land fish quickly, so they do not exhaust themselves during the fight. Tagging data is clear; red drum survive well when released if they are handled properly. Many fish I catch are released without bringing them into the boat, but I admit I love to hold them in my arms for a photo. When landing a fish, never reach into or attempt to support the fish by the gill plate or mouth. Hold them horizontally and support the weight of the fish evenly as you cradle it like a baby in your arms. Have your camera ready beforehand. Enjoy the moment you have with the fish, but return it to the water as quickly as possible.

Spend time reviving the fish after a hard-fought battle. That means forcing water over its gills by inching the boat forward. If fishing in moving water, the water does the work for you, so hold that redfish face-first into the current. Moving a redfish forward and backward in the water doesn’t help much — no matter what the TV shows say. Watching a red drum regain its strength and kick away is rewarding, almost as much as tricking them into biting your topwater.

The post Keys to Catching Carolina’s Red Drum appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

Of all the Caribbean flats species targeted by anglers, permit are arguably the most coveted species for many fly and light-tackle fishermen, and when it comes to consistent and productive permit destinations, the tiny Central American country of Belize sits at the top of the list.

While Belize has always been a well-known destination for anglers wishing to pursue these elusive and — at times — difficult fish, the permit fishing throughout Belize has arguably improved over the last 10 to 15 years. With increased pressure and a significant bump in angler numbers, how could this be possible?

There are three main reasons for this uptick in permit production, with the first (and most important) reason being mandatory catch-and-release regulations and nationwide protection of permit, bonefish and tarpon implemented in 2008. Since that time, fish numbers have stabilized and gradually improved. To date, Belize is still the only country in the Caribbean to enact this type of protection.

The second reason that Belize is such a permit hotspot has to do with a nationwide gillnet ban that became law in 2019. In tandem with mandatory catch-and-release fishing, the removal of indiscriminate gillnets has had an immediate positive effect. The third and final reason for an overall increase in permit productivity? The guides are spending more time focusing on and targeting the species, and their knowledge, techniques, and understanding of the species has radically evolved as a direct result.

Permit Fishing in Ambergris Caye, Belize

Running parallel to the Mesoamerican Barrier Reef, Ambergris Caye is the largest of the more than 200 islands that dot the coast of Belize — and by far the most popular tourist destination in the country. Long a famous tarpon destination, over the past 10 years the permit fishing in the waters that surround Ambergris has ramped up considerably — both with numbers as well as the average size of permit. The shallow lagoon on the back side of Ambergris is home to large schools of smaller 5- to 10-pound permit. When spotted, the speedsters will readily chase large shrimp and Gotcha-type fly patterns. For anglers seeking larger permit, the fish found in the Bacalar Chico area, north to Rocky Point, and south to Long Caye can be quite large. A guide is crucial for this part of Belize, as most flats are soft mud and difficult to wade.

Fishing for Permit at Turneffe Atoll, Belize

One of the most undeveloped, unvisited and pristine regions in all of Belize, Turneffe is home to an exceptional population of permit, which is why many seasoned traveling anglers will tell you that the atoll offers one of the best chances in the Caribbean to hook and land a “black-tailed devil.” On the outer flats of the atoll, most permit are found as singles or in small groups, feeding their way across the shallows in search of crabs, shrimp and other food sources. In the interior of the atoll on the muddy mangrove flats, more aggressive schools of permit are found on a regular basis, cruising the lengthy mangrove shorelines in schools that at times number 100 or more fish.

Permit Fishing at Punta Gorda

Punta Gorda (known throughout the region as “P.G.”) is the southernmost town in Belize and the capital of Belize’s Toledo District. Small, quiet and almost completely untouched by tourism, this has long been a popular destination for anglers serious about catching permit. The classic flats scenarios found in this area revolve around permit that feed and tail in skinny waters on shallow reef flats. It is not uncommon for the P.G. guides to poll the edges of the flats in search of tailing fish and nervous water. When fish are spotted in the shallows, the guide and angler will usually slip out of the skiff and approach the feeding fish on foot for the optimal shot.

Belize’s Hopkins and Permit Alley Fishing

This area has become world famous for its permit fishing, with hundreds of shallow, turtle-grass-covered, classic-style permit flats that are found just offshore in pristine waters surrounding Belize’s barrier reef. In this specific marine area — thick with tiny cayes and islands connected and joined by countless flats — good numbers of permit can be found year-round: often-times tailing, cruising and feeding in clear, shallow waters. These flats typically consist of hard-packed sand, mottled with patches of turtle grass and crushed coral. The shallower flats are ideal for wading, although a boat is still required to move from area to area.

Long Caye and Caye Caulker Permit Fishing

In addition to offering a healthy tarpon fishery, this central Belize destination offers great permit opportunities in the area surrounding Caye Caulker. The permit fishery is rapidly evolving here, as protection of the species continues to improve the population. This fishing differs from other areas in Belize (where permit are often found in super-shallow waters that are fished according to the tides) in that permit here are usually found in three to six feet of water, cruising and feeding over a variety of different bottoms including shallow grass, hard bottoms, and even submerged rock structures and caves. And while a moving tide is important, it is not as crucial as it is in other areas. 

When Traveling to Belize to Fish

• MAJOR AIR HUB: Belize City, Belize (BZE)
• ENTRY DOCUMENTS REQUIRED: Valid passport
• LANGUAGES: English and Caribbean Creole
• LAND SIZE: Approximately 8,867 square miles
• TIME: U.S. Central Standard Time
• FISHING SEASON: Year-round, with peak permit time March-July, October and November
• IDEAL FOR: Couples, families, first-time permit anglers, and seasoned veterans

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