I eyed a spot at the southwestern tip of the Cameron, Louisiana, jetties and made a cast. My lipless crankbait hit the water.

As the lure sank, I began my normal seven-count before making the first pull. I stopped at three. It felt as if the lure had hit a rock and got stuck, so I set the hook — just in case.

The rod immediately doubled over, the drag screamed, and for the next 15 minutes, a super-sized redfish put my muscles and tackle to the test.

Catching redfish is fun. Catching big redfish is really fun. And one of the best ways to do that in early fall is with crankbaits at jetties.

Gearing Up for Fishing Crankbaits

Endless varieties of crankbaits flood the market, especially for bass fishing, but the most effective crankbaits for redfish are lipless.

As the name implies, these lures feature no protruding lip, a characteristic that allows this kind of bait to be fished at specific depths. Lipless versions can be more versatile because the angler essentially controls the fishing depth.

Rat-L-Trap has long led the industry, but my favorite is the Super Pogy by Bomber Saltwater Grade. It comes with a high-pitch rattle that I’ve found effective. Other options include the Nobondo Lipless Crankbait, Nomad Design Madscad and Biospawn Rattle Bot.

Best colors include chrome, white/black, chrome/pink, and bronze. I use a casting reel rigged with a 30-pound green P-line braid tied directly to the lure because I fish in dingy water. In clear water, add a 36-inch fluorocarbon leader if needed.

I like a medium-heavy action, 7 1/2-foot rod but have a particular preference for its composition. I learned about this while fishing over the years with four-time Bassmaster Classic champion and living legend Rick Clunn.

Super-sensitive rods actually work against you when fishing with crankbaits, Clunn told me. A fish actually pushes the lure in pursuit; if you’re fishing a super-sensitive (graphite/composite) rod, you’ll set the hook before the fish actually has the lure.

Clunn collaborated with Wright & McGill a few years back to create the S-Glass Series of rods that incorporate traditional fiberglass technology with a modern flare. I use these rods for crankbaits and have had serious success everywhere from the Mississippi River near Venice, La., to the Cameron jetties.

With glass rods, I have had far more hookups than misses because I can’t feel the bite until the fish takes the lure. You’ll find numerous fiberglass crankbait rods on the market, and they can make a massive difference in the pursuit of redfish.

Location and Technique

Around the jetties, start fishing near the boat cuts [Ed’s note: Texas jetties feature breaks in the rock wall about halfway out that allow small boats through] to take advantage of reds foraging on baitfish moving between the channel and Gulf side of the jetty rocks. “You get shrimp, shad and crabs pushing through, and the reds will move in and feed,” says veteran jetty angler Bill Killian.

Anchor up-current of the cut and work the lure against the flow. “Throw it out toward the cut, let it sink a few seconds, and then reel it in as fast as you can. The pressure of the current will allow the rattles to work really well,” he says.

Also look for jetty reds in the deep holes usually found around the southern tip of the rocks and northward about 50 yards. At these spots, the current wraps around the jetty structure and carves out large holes. Reds congregate around large boulders that have fallen off the main wall into these holes.

Read Next: More Redfish Fishing Tips

Throw out the crankbait, let it sink to the level of the rocks, and rip it. I pull a few feet and then reel a couple of cranks. Repeat that three or four times and recast. The reds usually hit just after the first pull and sometimes on the fall.

While it might sound counterintuitive, if you see dolphins feeding in the area, that’s a fortunate sign.

In my logbook, I’ve noted dolphins feeding in the vicinity every time I’ve caught lots of bull reds. The times we had fewer fish, I saw no dolphins feeding. The presence of dolphins often indicates menhaden, a primary forage species for big reds.

Releasing for the Future

As everything from algae blooms to bycatch in the menhaden fishery puts pressure on redfish populations, catch-and-release becomes increasingly important — particularly for the big, breeding-size reds that inhabit jetty systems.

Scientists say the discard mortality rate for all sizes of redfish averages around 8 percent, though the type of terminal tackle used plays a major role. In general, lures deep-hook fewer fish than J-hooked natural baits.

In fact, one fish Killian caught at a nearshore gas platform off the Sabine Pass, which I tagged for Texas Sea Grant, made a reappearance three weeks later two miles away at the Sabine jetties. As the super fat bull redfish surfaced, Killian netted it. We quickly noticed a tag covered with slime.

I removed the growth, and my heart raced as I realized the tag said Sea Grant.

After examining our data, we realized it was the same fish Killian caught a few weeks before. It taught me firsthand that releasing big fish pays off, and I will carry that and deep respect for these bulls with me for the rest of my life.

The post Fishing Crankbaits for Gulf Jetty Redfish appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

Sunup at Ferry Beach, near Scarborough, Maine, had us excited to catch striped bass. The Scarborough, Nonesuch and Libby rivers dump into the Gulf of Maine, and that’s where we wanted to be as the sun popped above the horizon. Summer warmth kept us comfortable as we launched our kayaks and headed toward the pass.

Nearby, we heard a huge splash from a mystery fish that no one was able to get eyes on. The whole group turned toward the sound. “Probably a sturgeon,” guessed nearby kayak angler Daniel McFetridge, Old Town kayaks’ e-commerce and digital marketing manager.

Fighting an incoming tide, most of us were using the ePDL+ drive that propels Old Town kayaks via a lithium battery. Of course, anglers can assist and pedal with their feet for extra power. Ryan Lilly, marketing director at Old Town, was the first one to the spot which was chock-full of underwater boulders and feeding stripers.

A strong incoming tide made the area really hard to fish. We had to hold position in the cut and make pinpoint casts. A kayak with a spot-lock trolling motor might have been able to handle it, if the motor was strong enough to stay in position in the heavy current. Maine regularly experiences 8-foot tides, with little slack tide between the rising and the falling.

With his ePDL+ nearly at full power, Lilly locked his rudder steering in place to slice into the current. He was then able to stand up and make long casts close to shore. Prospecting with a topwater, Lilly hooked up on his third toss. And then a couple casts later.

The rest of us couldn’t replicate what he was doing. Some of us didn’t quite have the battery power to fight the current, which then required us to pedal sitting down. And sitting down meant we didn’t have enough casting distance to reach the fish. I didn’t risk moving closer to the fish, fearing I might run into submerged boulders. Soon the tide began to slow, the bite shut down, and Atlantic sturgeon were jumping around us so frequently I thought I’d become a pancake.

It was one of the most unique ways I’ve seen someone stand and fish from a kayak. Lilly obviously had experience standing in a kayak, which is necessary to fish an inlet. But I never thought I’d see standing — not sitting — kayak anglers fishing inlets and jetty rocks during a roaring tide. The experience made me think of two other instances on that recent summer trip to Maine when standing in a kayak was better than just sitting.

The Path Forward

On the backside of an island in Casco Bay, Maine, we dissected a shoreline in a way that any veteran Bassmaster would appreciate. Joe Albanese, editor in chief at Wired2Fish, and I cast plugs, Z-Mans and Slug-Gos at fishy-looking grass edges and rocky shorelines in the lee of the island.

We stood in our Old Town Sportsman BigWater kayaks, recognizing the higher elevation was a huge asset in this type of fishing. In the background, gray storm clouds blew up like popcorn near the Sandy Point Bridge. We needed every bit of sunlight and height to find the spots we wanted to land our lures. Albanese struck pay dirt first when he landed a striper off some vegetation. The striped bass were definitely selective in the heart of the afternoon.

Here’s how I handled it:

1. Standing in the 3-foot-wide kayak wasn’t a problem. Most wide kayaks with a wide-flat hull are plenty stable to stand up in. Standing is more of a confidence issue than anything. When you trust your footing, you don’t overcompensate and cause problems. Utilize a wide stance and loose knees to ride the swells, just like in a bigger boat. I’ve fished a ton in kayaks; be wary of kayaks that are too long-and-skinny or seemingly too lightweight for their size. Those are the ones most likely to dump you in the water while standing.
2. Next, I set the ePDL+ drive on its lowest setting to slowly creep along the shoreline. Every once in a while, I had to make an adjustment to my course, but it was as simple as making a rudder correction with the hand knob.
3. Finally, the other key element was skip casting. This was not as technical as casting underneath mangroves or docks, but I still used that underhand motion to land lures close to structure without making a huge splash. Executing a skip cast while sitting in a kayak isn’t easy.

Later that day, fishing a different part of the same island, we had success casting topwaters at a sandy beach and nearby shallow-water point. Out in open water, it was much less about precision casting — instead we were fan-casting a general area, looking for bait school marks on the side-scan sonar. Of course, we were standing and stretching our legs while casting.

In the Marsh

Sneaking back into the marsh was a blast. A certain type of angler from Texas to Maine really digs exploring a maze of shallow waters in search of surprisingly large gamefish. I’m that type of angler. Ideally, kayakers should allow a flood tide to push them into the labyrinth. But first, always make a stop at the entrance. That’s what we did and landed a couple striped bass off a flat. I let the current and wind drift me along a fishy stretch to maximize fishing time. 

Then it was onto the creeks. We had a short window — as we were fishing the outgoing tide — before the water left the creeks entirely. I had luck with an oversize Z-Man DieZel Minnow soft plastic. It looked like a hearty baitfish, or maybe an eel. And I didn’t have to sit down to re-rig or retie. Just grab what you need and pop right back up. Even releasing smaller striped bass was easy while standing.

The exploration was productive. Standing in a kayak in the marsh allowed me to see what was coming next, such as a creek mouth, island or shallow flat. In many cases, we were able to look over the marsh banks and reeds to prep for the next cast, which is something you just can’t do while sitting. With the water dropping, stripers were exiting quickly in the deepest water they could find. We had to lift up our pedal drives to float out, paddling over the shallowest points.  

Standing in a kayak takes getting used to, but most anglers become comfortable quickly. Start with a quality kayak in shallow water, and work your way up. Soon enough you’ll be fishing moving water in passes and inlets with the best of them.

The post A Balancing Act appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

Once leader material reaches a certain thickness, knots become an imperfect means of connecting hooks, swivels and lures, and creating loops for attaching snaps. From about 80-pound-test and up (be it monofilament or fluorocarbon leader line), knots don’t easily cinch tight, grow awkwardly large, and might unravel. Crimps, on the other, offer a solid and streamlined grip.

As with knots, crimps represent a critical connection between you and fish, and so they must be created using the proper crimp sleeves, tools and techniques. To learn more about this, we talked with Capt. Shawn Rotello, owner and operator of Night Runner sportfishing charters in Kona, Hawaii. Rotello targets blue marlin, yellowfin tuna and wahoo, as well as ulua (giant trevally) in the lee of the Big Island. Here are his tips for creating good crimps using a hand crimper.

Pick the Best Sleeve Size

First, make sure the crimp sleeve is properly sized to the line, says Rotello. “If the sleeve is too small, the line won’t fit inside; if it’s too large, the sleeve might not crimp tight enough to keep the line from slipping,” he explains. Hi-Seas makes it easy by labeling the packaging for the crimp sleeves to fit specific pound-test ratings. You can also match the diameter of the sleeve to the diameter of the leader. Each should be labeled on the packaging for the sleeves and leader material.

Aluminum Versus Copper Sleeves

Crimp sleeves for monofilament and fluorocarbon come in two styles: oval aluminum and double-barrel copper. Anglers debate on which is best, but Rotello offers this advice: “I tend to use the double-barrel copper sleeves for leaders of 130-pound-test and less, because they seem a tad more gentle on the lighter line.” For 150-pound-test and up, the skipper uses aluminum sleeves. For thicker leaders, the sleeves are correspondingly larger, and the lighter aluminum material keeps the weight down for better lure and live-bait action.

The Sleeve Length

Crimping sleeves come in two sizes: short and long. Short sleeves are a better choice for lighter leaders and/or line-shy fish. The long sleeves are better for heavier leaders and situations in which the crimp will not be visible, such as inside the skirt of a trolling lure or within a rigged bait.

Melt the Tag End

Rotello recommends this step before actually crimping: After you’ve threaded the leader through one end of the sleeve and back through the other end of the sleeve, pull out about 3 or 4 inches of the tag line. “Use a lighter to melt the tip of the tag line,” he says. “This creates a blob of material on the end of the tag line that helps prevent it from pulling out of the crimp.” Once it is cool, pull the end of the tag flush with the end of the crimp.”

Don’t Kink the Loop

This tip applies to loops crimped without thimbles or other chafe protection. As you are tightening the loop, avoid making it too small. It should be just large enough to prevent the loop from kinking.

Match Diameters

The jaws of a crimping tool such as the Hi-Seas Deluxe mini hand crimper have multiple indentations known as dies. This allows for crimping different sizes of sleeves. Match the size range stamped next to the die to the inside diameter (ID) of the sleeve. For copper sleeves, use the ID of one of the barrels. For oval aluminum sleeves, use the shortest inside dimension.

One or Two Crimps

With a long sleeve, crimp it at least twice, once each about 2 to 4 millimeters from the ends of the sleeve. With a short sleeve and a thick-jawed crimper, there is usually not enough room for two crimps, so just crimp once in the center. “It is important not to crimp too close to the end of the sleeve, as this may damage or nick the leader line,” Rotello says. “Leave enough room so that the end of the sleeve flares a bit.”

Perfect Pressure

If you don’t crimp a sleeve with enough pressure, the line can slip out. Too much pressure can damage the leader line and cause it to break. A quality crimping tool such as the Hi-Seas Deluxe mini hand crimper comes calibrated for applying just the right amount of pressure to create secure crimps that do not damage the line.

Chafe Protection

Chafe protection such as thimbles or tubing keep the leader loop from wearing thin while trolling or battling a fish. “I like to use chafe protection when fishing marlin,” Rotello says. “This is especially important around the hook since a marlin’s bill and mouth are about the same as 60-grit sandpaper.” As with crimp sleeves, thimbles and chafe tubing need to be matched to the diameter of the leader line.

The post How to Make Good Crimps appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

Leave the micro-skiff at home and keep the light-tackle outfits in the garage. If you want to catch bull redfish, think deep water and make sure to bring out the big guns.

The differences between adult and puppy red drum are so vast, you might as well treat the two like different animals. You’ll need to if you want to catch bull reds. Adult redfish lose their endearing adolescent spots, replaced with armor for scales and a caricature mouth only a carp could love. Their demeanor is bullish, using current and mass to fight down-and-dirty. And their meat turns from refined to tough, mirroring their aggressive mentality.

Bull redfish are the “big uglies” TV football commentators always talk about. Although “big ugly” is truly a nickname for a different drum — the black drum. Want to know how to catch these red drum? Conquering them requires sound technique, strength, specialized tactics and a keen eye. Learn how some of the best bull-beaters in the biz stay on top of their game.

Where to Catch Bull Redfish

Bull redfish inhabit waters from Chesapeake Bay through the Gulf of Mexico, making this illustrious species readily available to huge numbers of anglers. Their pervasiveness is outstanding but requires anglers to understand local population habits.

In the Chesapeake, May through September is the optimal time to target big reds in nearshore waters. Giant reds school up in spring outside Hatteras and Ocracoke inlets before moving into Pamlico Sound for the summer spawning season. In fall, those same reds leave en masse and stay along the beaches until water temperatures plummet, pushing them offshore for winter. The Cape Lookout fall run lasts into December and sometimes all through a mild winter.

In Florida, northeast bull redfish start spawning in deeper sections of the St. Johns River during the first big moon in August. In the Gulf, Tampa anglers head to deeper waters near Fort Desoto, off St. Pete, next to the Skyway Bridge and near Egmont Key in fall and early spring. Florida Panhandle action starts right around Halloween and lasts all the way to February, with the most productive time in November and December near the beaches. These large schools of redfish can even be found off the coast of Louisiana and Texas, and range from 500 to 5,000 fish.

Your fishing location will dictate the season to fish, but once you’ve figured out when, and a general where, the task turns to locating the red drum schools.

Find the Hot Spot for Bull Redfish

Locating bull redfish can be difficult, so consider every tool in your arsenal.

“Sometimes I’ll look for indicator species such as cownose rays to lead me to schools of redfish,” says Capt. Tyler Nonn, of Chesapeake Bay, Virginia. “After the fish move out of their early-season patterns, anglers can bottomfish outside the inlets, shoals and ledges in up to 50 feet of water.”

Concentrations of menhaden near drop-offs and ledges of a shoal are a good sign to look for on your bottom machine, especially at the mouth of the Chesapeake. Later in the year, fish can be marked on bottom machines under and around schools of small bluefish or spinner sharks.

“Red drum have a very unique ­signature, much like amberjack,” says Capt. Brian Horsley, of Oregon Inlet, North Carolina. “They will show on your bottom machine as layers, and sometimes they’ll mark diagonally. Deep reds are difficult to target; most anglers actually find them while fishing for something else.”

I had my first run-in with Panama City Beach bull redsyears ago during a paddle-craft media event. Only a few of us had ever fished off the beaches in kayaks, and we were content to target red snapper and groupers with metal flutter jigs. After gathering over good marks on the bottom machine, we dropped down quickly to see what was there. To our surprise, all three of us soon landed 20-plus-pound red drum. That’s when I learned that if you can find the reds bunched up, they’ll eat just about anything.

Redfish in the Panhandle and Tampa areas start to show in strong numbers only when the water temperatures hit the mid-60s, says Capt. John Rivers, who’s fished both areas extensively but now guides in Tampa.

“One easy way to find bull reds is to look for birds diving on the large schools of baitfish that the redfish have pushed to the surface,” says Rivers. “Another way is to have a reliable bottom machine with side imaging that can mark fish when there’s no surface activity.”

In Jacksonville, Capt. Kirk Waltz searches the mouth of the St. Johns River as far upriver as EverBank Field (home of the Jaguars) downtown.

“I begin my search by watching the bottom recorder for distinct breaks on the edges of deep water adjacent to the shipping channel,” says Waltz. “These bottom-contour changes look almost like offshore ledges but can also be sloping drops from deep to shallow water.”

Waltz believes the reds use ledges to block current to conserve energy but also to provide ambush spots as bait washes overhead. Most of these spots are from 29 to 46 feet deep.

Best Lures and Baits for Bull Redfish

Your redfish tackle can make all the difference. The closest thing to a guaranteed bite, especially after locating fish, is to bait with fresh bunker or blue crab on the bottom. Terminal tackle is a simple three-way swivel system — the same rig many anglers use to bottomfish offshore — using 60- to 80-pound ­fluorocarbon, a 5/0 to 7/0 circle hook and a loop to interchange bank sinkers from 6 to 10 ounces.

“I like fresh blue crabs, mullet, pogies or ladyfish chunks,” says Waltz. “Chumming can be very effective. I like to find a spot and deploy four rods using two different baits to see what their preference is. A good soak of 15 to 30 minutes is preferred to allow the scent track to feed back in a light current.”

For the best redfish lures, captains Horsley and Rivers both prefer bucktails ranging from 1 to 8 ounces. “When they are schooled up, they are not too smart and will eat just about anything in their face,” jokes Horsley. Rivers dresses his bucktails with plastics. “I’ll use a 1½-ounce Spro bucktail jig in white, pink or chartreuse with a 4-inch soft-plastic tail,” he says. “Some guys use a plain 1-ounce jig rigged with a 7-inch curly tail.”

What’s the best bull redfish rod and reel? A 7-foot heavy-action rod paired with a 6,000-plus-class spinning reel, spooled with 50-plus-pound braid, is a great setup for any situation in which an angler will encounter bull redfish. Nonn prefers Shimano reels with PowerPro braid, while Waltz uses Penn reels with Berkley braid.

“If the fish are finicky and won’t touch jigs or dead bait, cast out a live bait rigged on a 3/0 circle hook and 40-pound fluoro,” says Rivers. “The [minimalistic] rig catches fish when nothing else will around Tampa Bay.”

Topwater Lures for Bull Redfish

When conditions are right, large schools of reds will hang at the surface in deep water. Each captain I spoke with encountered this behavior, so it’s not location specific.

“When an angler finds an aggregation on top, it’s best to pick off fish from outskirts of the school and try to keep the boat away to avoid putting them down,” says Capt. Tyler Nonn. “Doubles and triples are real possibilities.”

Nonn will cast large soft plastics, such as Hogy Lures, while Horsley and Rivers prefer to work loud surface poppers. “As long as the birds aren’t diving around the large schools, it’s a blast to watch reds fight over and try to smash your plug,” says Rivers.

One sign that bull redfish are around but not necessarily at the surface is the presence of mud balls.

“Reds are famous for attacking schools of bait on the bottom during the spring, and are easily detected by the huge muds under the bait pods,” says Capt. Kirk Waltz. “Catch a few baits from the edges of these schools, and flip them back into the mud balls for quick hookups.”

The post Fishing for Bull Redfish appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

In the early 1990s I got my first look.

The wind honked out of the north on the first chilly day in September. It just felt fishy.

Running toward the birds, I thought at first the boils were stripers. But when the fish came up, I knew this was something different: Streamlined muscular fish with green backs slashed through baitballs at an ungodly speed.

Composure lost, heart pounding, adrenaline level through the roof, I made several casts, which went unnoticed. About an hour and 30 casts later, I finally came tight, and it felt unreal. Line peeled off the reel so fast I didn’t know what to do. I cranked down the drag a quarter turn and the reel literally blew up, falling to pieces on the ground.

Didn’t matter. I was hooked. This was well beyond anything I had experienced before. Straight-up tuna inshore. Mind blown.

False Albacore Allure

I am not alone. All along the coast, false albacore (technically, little tunny — also known as albies, bonito, fat albert, hardtails and funny fish) have been blowing inshore anglers’ minds, particularly those light-tackle advocates who favor sight-casting rather than trolling or bait fishing.

“They’ve developed a steady following up here,” notes Capt. Paul Dixon, of Montauk, New York. “We’ve got a fleet that thrives on their arrival every fall.”

That’s because they’re what many hardcore light-tackle anglers describe as the perfect quarry, offering an often awesome visual surface feed, a high but not impossibly high level of difficulty, and drag-burning runs that create instant memories. And for fly-fishers? Rarely do you catch one that doesn’t bring you into backing almost instantly.

“The visual element is unique,” notes Capt. Ian Devlin, of Connecticut, who characterizes albies as ram-induction feeders (consistent with tunas). They don’t just chase bait, they tear through it. “It’s a quick, spectacular burst and then they’re gone, and you’ve got to get up and run after the next pod.”

“It’s definitely about the hunt … the chase,” says Capt. Gene Quigley, of New Jersey. “That’s what makes it exciting.”

But albie fishing is more than just the high-adrenaline run‑and-gun. “My favorite part is seeing the look on a guy’s face when he first hooks up,” notes Capt. Doug Jowett, of Cape Cod. “These fish just go and go.”

The visual element is unique. It’s a quick, spectacular burst and then they’re gone, and you’ve got to get up and run after the next pod.

— Capt. Ian Devlin

“What we’re talking about here is access to a strong, fast pelagic,” says Dixon. “A straight‑up tuna, sometimes a stone’s throw from the beach.” And they can be caught with fairly light gear, including flies. In that context, the albie run is pretty extraordinary.

“They are challenging,” notes Capt. Brian Horsley, of North Carolina. Albies are notorious for being very finicky and boat shy. “Sometimes we fish ’em all day and only catch a few.” Indeed, you have to make good, fast casts under pressure. That takes skill and composure — of course, that’s part of the albie draw.

Because the schools ­generally show up around the same time and places each year, the anticipation builds. Anglers gear up in advance. And when the first albies show, word spreads like wildfire.

When and Where to Target the Fish

While false albacore certainly don’t generate the avid following in Florida that they enjoy in the mid-Atlantic and southern New England, the fish do swarm the Sunshine State during late spring and summer.

“The southeast wind brings them in,” says Capt. Dino Torino, of Jupiter, Florida. “We have them from late May through August.” It’s a different fishery, though: no running and gunning, or chasing fish. “You stay put, and chum them up.”

In southern New England and the northern mid-Atlantic, where undoubtedly most of the targeting occurs, albies can be found 20 to 40 miles offshore, in depths of about 180 feet, pretty much any time from June on, mixed in with other pelagics, such as skipjack, bluefin and yellowfin. Inshore — within a mile of the beach and in harbors and bays — they’re most certainly a fall-run fish.

“We catch a few in Nags Head [Outer Banks, North Carolina], in August,” says Horsley. “But we don’t really focus on them until they show in September off of Harkers Island [farther south, near Morehead City].”

These smaller fish, in the 5-pound range, generally appear right near the beach. As October approaches, bigger fish mix in. “November is when the real biggies show. … All fish over 18 pounds,” he says.

Moving north: Although albies are caught off Virginia, Maryland and Delaware, for some reason they don’t set up there, and thus few anglers focus on them. The fish anglers do encounter don’t seem to stay long, and are likely just passing through.

From central to northern New Jersey, the fish consistently set up, and that’s where anglers really start targeting them. “We have fish offshore a bit, on the lumps earlier,” says Quigley. “But inshore it usually happens in September, although it seems to be happening later and later every year.”

“November is when the real biggies show. … All fish over 18 pounds.”

— Capt. Brian Horsley

Off the Long Island side of New York Harbor, the migration appears similar. Ten years ago, a first run of fish might occur off Breezy Point, New York, in late August, and the numbers would escalate into September. But now, the fishery doesn’t seem to get going until October. “We’ve actually had pretty good runs in early November these last few years,” says New York Harbor Capt. Danny Reich.

Albies show up intermittently along Long Island’s south shore, but it’s really that area from Long Branch, New Jersey, to Breezy Point, New York, and inside New York Harbor that tends to hold the best concentrations of fish in the region.

Out east, false albacore tend to set up in some pretty specific locations. Shinnecock Inlet, New York, is a well-known albie spot, particularly for those fishing from the jetty.

And then there’s Montauk, possibly the best albie spot on the coast. They show up, sometimes in spectacular numbers, off of Montauk Point Lighthouse, and can be found crashing through bay anchovies at any point all the way west to town.

“Usually, someone sees them off of the point in August,” says Dixon. “But once September rolls around, they fill in and can be found in pretty good numbers all the way back to Plum Island.”

The North Fork of Long Island sees a good run too, and the entire Rhode Island and Connecticut coastlines host albies at some point. Cape Cod seems to be the northern version of Montauk, although less consistent. And we can’t leave out the fish that show off Martha’s Vineyard and Nantucket in September.

Fall Live Bait Blitz

Where the albies show varies some year to year, but captains agree that bait generally drives the congregations.

Albies can be found feeding on many species: silversides, sand eels, juvenile menhaden, glass minnows, squid, small shrimp and crabs. Yet, without a doubt, the fish key in on bay anchovies in the mid-Atlantic. In Cape Cod, Martha’s Vineyard and Nantucket, they focus on sand eels.

“Yeah, they blitz on ­silversides, but for sure, they come into the Sound with the anchovies,” says Connecticut’s Devlin.

Bay anchovies usually measure 1 to 3 inches long, with a silver underbelly and a reddish, copper-colored back. The copper color only becomes obvious when the baitfish school up in the hundreds. Horsley calls them “red bait.”

These prey fish spend warmer months in the bays and estuaries of the mid-Atlantic. But the first cool night often signals an eastward migration in which they flood the inlets and beaches, bringing albies right up to the surf line.

“Montauk’s entire ecosystem revolves around bay anchovies,” says Dixon. “Some years we get sand eels, but anchovies create the big albie blitzes.”

The angle of your approach is real important. Turn the boat parallel to the fish so that after the cast, the angler can stay tight to the line.

— Capt. Gene Quigley

“Well, they certainly aren’t easy,” says Cape Cod’s Jowett. “Every once in a while, you’ll get a day where they feed recklessly, but the standard is you maybe catch a few.”

Whether you hook up or not is sometimes about the approach, says Horsley. “You’ve got to come in slow, off plane, making sure you don’t wash them out.” Indeed, big boats that push a lot of water seem to catch fewer fish than the smaller, lighter ones.

“The angle of your approach is real important,” says Quigley. “Turn the boat parallel to the fish so that after the cast, the angler can stay tight to the line.” Because they’re up and down so quickly, get the lure or fly moving as soon as it hits the water.

“Aggressive guys don’t help the situation,” says Dixon. “Running too fast spooks albies and breaks up the baitballs.”

It’s understandably hard for excited anglers to avoid chasing every pod of busting fish, but guys who take the wait-and-see approach score the high numbers. “Sure, I chase fish sometimes, but I also try and stay put, and look for patterns,” says Reich.

If you can calm down, observe and put yourself in the right place, you’re more likely to find yourself in the middle of a blitz rather than halfway down the beach following a pod that will sound before you can get there.

Patient anglers get bites by blind-casting too. “When crowds get bad, I go to points of land, depth changes, outflows or just areas I’ve noted bait concentrations, and we blind-fish,” says Devlin.

John Skinner, a New York angler and author of several books on surf-casting, notes that from shore, you usually don’t get shots at busting fish. “Just about every fish I catch is blind-casting. You really just need to find likely spots and then put in the time.”

False Albacore Lures and Tackle

Because albies can be finicky, baits and their presentation count. Generally, you won’t get them with striper techniques.

The go-to albie lure for some time has been the Deadly Dick — locally called a tin, a small, slender metal lure with reflective tape — in the ½- to 3-ounce versions. For sure, it catches.

Skinner uses all sizes: the windier, the heavier. But he throws the 2-ounce version more than anything. “You gotta reel in as fast as you can,” he says. “You can’t out-reel them.”

Most of the strikes he describes as “spectacular,” right on the surface, as the tin skips across the water. “If you’re fishing them right, it’ll be too fast for stripers and bluefish.”

Boat anglers also use Deadly Dick lures. Their weight and wind resistance allows quick, long casts. However, any small, slender metal lure can catch fish; ones with reflective prismatic tape tend to work best.

On the other hand, the newest generation of albie anglers swears by soft plastics, such as a 6-inch pink or white Slug-Go-type bait. “It flies in the face of all of us match-the-hatch ­advocates,” says Reich. “But they do draw violent strikes.”

Soft plastics need to be worked much slower than metal, and with an erratic, twitching motion. If you want them to swim right, you also have to fish them on a weedless hook with no weight, which makes them tough to cast, particularly in any stiff wind. Albie Snax soft baits have developed a following. They’re heavier, so casting is less of an issue.

From a boat or the beach, most anglers use a 7-foot medium-heavy spinning outfit. While they aren’t terribly big, albies are quite strong. Choose a serious reel with a smooth drag, capable of carrying at least 250 yards of 20-pound braid. I’ve seen lesser reels blow up. Use 4 feet of 20- to 30-pound fluorocarbon for a leader.

For fly anglers, Bob Popovich’s “surf candy,” in tan or copper over white, and other epoxy bay anchovy patterns seem to work the best. However, in recent years, some have moved away from real colors to more flashy ones such as chartreuse and pink. Which flies work, and when, really depends on the mood of the fish.

Many anglers go with a 9-weight for tackle, but some move up to a 10 so they can land fish faster. The reel should feature a good drag system and hold at least 250 yards of backing with a clear intermediate fly line. Leaders vary, but a lot of guys simply use 6 to 8 feet of straight 20-pound fluorocarbon. For finicky fish, try 15-pound-test.

Don’t Eat the Albies

Up until the past several decades, false albacore didn’t garner much attention — from anyone. That’s likely because they’re mostly inedible.

I found that out the hard way when I brought one home and tried to cook a couple of pieces. The smell lingered for several days; my cat wouldn’t even eat it.

The meat on a false albacore is dark red. Some folks claim to eat it, but I can’t see how.

Such a trait might be a blessing. Nasty flavor could be the reason these fish remain so abundant and reliable inshore at particular times of the year. Some commercial pressure exists, but remains minimal, at least for now.

That leaves albie addicts an available source of their particular drug. From the surface feed to their hard, fast run, these fish keep us jonesing for more.

About the Author:
Capt. John McMurray is owner-operator of One More Cast Charters, in western Long Island, New York.

The post False Albie Addicts appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

Ascent to Glory

A heart-throbbing scene unfolds on the deck of a sport-fisher as a marlin pops up in the trolling spread, dorsal flung high and pectorals aglow. With powerful, staccato sweeps of its massive tail, the billfish bursts toward the right flat line. All hell breaks loose as the billfish attacks. The crew scurries to action. A rod bends double. A clicker screams. Line melts away in a high‑speed blur. It is what offshore anglers live for.

Yet when it comes to big-game fish, this scenario seems to repeat more for some boats than others. Such “lucky” sport-fishers seem to possess mythical powers, raising innumerable fish from the depths as if by tractor beam.

But do boats really attract offshore species such as mahi, marlin, sailfish, tuna and wahoo? Are some boats more apt to raise offshore fish than others? And if so, what is it that causes fish to home in on such an unnatural object as a boat? These are the questions to which I sought answers from a variety of offshore-angling experts who have fished around the world, from Hawaii to Cape Hatteras to Guatemala.

Boats as Fish-Aggregating Devices

Animal Magnetism

More than one expert has likened a boat to a floating object on the offshore grounds, where game fish are attracted to things such as weed lines and kelp paddies, as well as discarded pallets, offshore weather buoys and man-made FADs (fish-aggregating devices). In their shade and sanctuary, these floating objects often harbor a community of marine life spanning the food chain. So why wouldn’t fish view a boat — despite its transient nature — in the same way?

Anecdotal evidence suggests that a boat in and of itself — whether moving or stationary — will attract fish, according to most of the experts I talked with. What’s more, most believe that visual cues associated with the boat have a stronger influence on fish than do sounds or vibrations.

Supporting these assertions were observations by the late Jim Rizzuto, a beloved Hawaiian fishing authority and writer, who told of two large yellowfin tuna swimming in the shadow of a 30-foot sport-fisher as it trolled for marlin. “The ahi were snuggling up against the hull and seemed not at all upset at the sight and sound of the boat,” Rizzuto said.

In addition, a big blue marlin showed about the same time. He estimated the fish in the 1,000-pound range. “All of these big fish seemed to be attracted to the boat and didn’t want to swim away” Rizzuto said. They appeared to make the boat their home, at least until the crew caught the yellowfin, though they failed to get the marlin.

A Sport Boat is Just a Big Teaser

In some ways, a moving boat might be even more attractive to predatory fish than a stationary object. This is due to what some might call the big-teaser effect. Like a large, hookless teaser lure designed to create a commotion on the surface to simulate a school of fish attacking bait and draw the attention of a curious predator, the prop wash, froth, and splashing of the boat hull may accomplish the same thing.

Most big-game anglers assume that a boat moving through the water is your biggest teaser and the first thing that notifies a billfish of your presence. A boat is larger than any teaser, attracting fish from a distance. They see the boat, the teaser, then your bait.

Some captains believe that the boldest fish are also the largest ones, at least when it comes marlin, and so they are more likely to get close to the boat. “In Hawaii, the lures closest to the boat often draw strikes from the biggest fish,” Rizzuto used to say. Yet, the longer trolling lines usually take smaller fish.

“As a result, big-game trollers generally position their largest lures just a few wakes back,” the Hawaiian angling expert explained.

The type of wake a boat lays down can also affect success, according to Randy Ramsey, co-founder of North Carolina-based Jarrett Bay Boatworks. “Billfish are sight feeders, and a clean wake allows them to see the baits or lures more easily,” Ramsey explained. Three factors that help create clean wakes include a hull that’s free of fouling, properly aligned running gear and well-tuned propellers.

Raising Fish Like the Pied Piper

Most experts agree that sound also plays a role in how well a boat raises offshore fish. While no one has conducted empirical testing, boats emitting the thrum from a pair of big diesel engines certainly catch a fair share of offshore fish. Yet, could this be the result of the greater number of twin-diesel sport‑fishers out there trolling? Plenty of fish have also been caught by anglers trolling with multiple four-stroke outboard engines. That number seems to be on the rise as more and more supersize center-console boats head out to pursue big-game fish.

Many assert that the key seems to be the resonance set up between two or more marine power plants, rather than the type of engine. This results in a pulsed low-frequency sound underwater that draws in fish from a distance. It has been long established that sharks are attracted to low-frequency, pulsed white noise, much like the sound of injured baitfish or a pair of out-of-synch diesel engines. We can only assume that billfish are attracted to this noise as well.

The correct harmonics make a big difference in whether fish will come to the boat to look at the lures, according to Capt. Brad Philipps, who runs Guatemala Fishing Adventures and has released more than 25,000 billfish.

“A captain’s preference for a particular trolling speed may reflect his boat’s ‘sweet spot,’” he says. “Engines turning at a certain rpm range may produce a set of harmonics that raise billfish like the Pied Piper.”

How does he know when he has achieved this? The fish tell him so. “I know I’m pulling at the right speed when we’re getting as many or more bites than the boats around us.”

The type of hull construction might also play a role, Ramsey explained. “I look at boats such as Big Oh, Chainlink, Inspiration and Sensation — boats that have been successful with different crews,” he says. “One thing they all have in common is that these are wooden-cored boats. While these hulls might not be popular, wooden-cored boats might make them better at raising fish.”

Stay Tuned

Sometimes the harmonics can turn sour. This was the case with Kona, Hawaii, Capt. John Bagwell, according to Rizzuto. Bagwell and his boat, Silky, had been on a hot streak. He and his crew had won a Skins Tournament with a 645-pound blue marlin, and followed it up a few weeks later with Henry Chee Award for the highest-scoring skipper in the Hawaiian International Billfish Tournament.

“Later in the year, however, Bagwell began to wonder if his 45-foot Viking had lost its competitive edge,” said Rizzuto. “The captain began to think the engines didn’t sound right.”

The fish evidently felt the same, as the boat was not getting as many blue marlin strikes as earlier in the year. So Bagwell had the boat hauled and ordered tune-ups on the twin 485 Detroit diesels, transmissions and running gear. After the tune-up, Silky was again running as smoothly as its name, according to Rizzuto. And the fish returned to its wake. Silky and its crew picked up the pace, releasing a steady stream of billfish, just as before.

The lesson here: Sport-fishers require regular tune-ups if they are to maintain the harmonics that attract fish. “A squeaky bearing or bent prop blade could blow up into expensive problems,” said Rizzuto, “but none bigger than dragging down the fish count.”

Echoing that sentiment is Jarrett Bay’s Ramsey. “One thing is for sure,” he said, “if a boat has a bad vibration, bearing noise, bent prop shaft or other issues, this hurts the boat’s ability to raise fish.”

Ramsey pointed to evidence based on the success of new boats. “Have you ever noticed that new boats seem to catch better than older ones?” he asked. “I think it is because the bearings and running gear are tight. Crews and owners should pay attention to this as their boats age, and ensure everything is running properly.”

Size Can Matter

Large and In Charge

It seems that bigger sport-fishing boats consistently rack up higher scores than do smaller boats. But again, this might simply be a matter of numbers: In most parts of the world, there are more large sport-fishers offshore at any given time than there are smaller boats. And because of their size, larger boats can go big-game fishing on days when marginal weather and large seas force smaller boats to stay in port.

Yet, according to many experts, fish don’t care what kind of boat you are on. In my experience, I have found success in raising striped marlin off Southern California behind even smaller boats, including a single-diesel-powered 26-foot convertible and a single-outboard-powered 22-foot center-console. Yet in most cases, the marlin were as thick as fleas offshore. On tougher days, the larger boats with twin engines seemed to hold the advantage when it came to trolling.

Running large hookless teasers, daisy chains of artificial squid, or dredges can help create more commotion and enlarge your offshore “footprint” while trolling in a boat that’s smaller than rest of the fleet, and this can help level the playing field when fishing among the big boys.

Sounder Proof

How can you tell if your boat’s fishy? There is a way to test its fish-attracting power, according to Rizzuto, but it relies on keeping your eye on the fish finder. Sport-fishers equipped with high-quality fish finders can mark fish such as marlin and tuna as deep as 20 to 30 fathoms.

“When you spot a marlin or tuna down deep on the fish finder, turn your head around and look at your wake,” Rizzuto said. “Then count to 20.” It takes about 10 to 20 seconds for a curious blue marlin to swim to the surface to investigate.

“If you don’t see the fish slashing at your lures or tracking them, mark the spot on your GPS chart plotter and circle back after you are sure your lures have cleared the area with no interest from a billfish,” he added. “Troll over the area again, and give the fish another chance to investigate.” Raising fish such as marlin or tuna in this manner will prove that your boat has fish-attracting power.

Men and Machine

Of course, a boat alone will not catch fish. The experience, knowledge, and hard work of an energetic captain and crew rank as essential elements of offshore success. It is the crew’s intimate understanding of how to take advantage of a boat’s fish-attracting characteristics that proves critical. The crew’s ability to select the best lures, gauge the proper trolling distances and choose the right speed — not only for the boat, but for the ever-changing sea conditions — can often mean more than anything else.

Just as a fine guitar requires a talented musician to make music, a modern fishing machine requires the skill of its captain and crew to make fish rise to the trolling spread. And when it comes together, there’s nothing in this world that’s more exciting. That’s why I call it raising havoc.

The post Raising Havoc: Attract Pelagics to Your Boat appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

It was a slow summer at Hudson Canyon off New York, but we were headed out anyway, because you can’t catch tuna when you’re dry on the dock. We weren’t halfway out when we saw life — a half-dozen whales rolling, and tails rising among what must have been 100 or more tightly packed bottlenose dolphin. Dozens of shearwaters flocked around the ­commotion. Extending outward for 100 square yards, storm petrels dabbed the blue 75-degree surface waters. The sonar screen read 180 feet.

One cast into the mayhem created instant action. As soon as the bail closed, a fish grabbed the lure, and the rod doubled over at an impossible angle. Line easily peeled off the reel against a good 30 pounds of drag. The mate looked over at me with a big smile on his face and said, “Well, I guess we’re not going to the canyon.”

Running way offshore for big pelagics is ingrained. Want to catch tuna? Hit the “deep,” the “edge,” the canyons. And whether you see life or empty ocean, deploy a spread and troll blindly for hours. But in recent years, most of the good fishing has occurred well inshore of the canyons, and trolling isn’t required.

Tuna Feed on Sand Eels

We owe this success to one thing, and one thing alone: sand lances, Ammodytes americanus (known locally as sand eels) — long, slender, 6- to 8-inch ­low-trophic-level fish with a pointy snout.

In past years, when the sand eels have shown up — usually by mid-June — they’ve appeared in extraordinary numbers. Anglers know about it pretty quickly because often the entire list of oceanic predators also find them. Not just those with fins, but those with wings as well. Everything appears to eat sand eels.

To be clear, this bait does not reside in deep water. As the name suggests, sand eels prefer relatively sandy habitat in 40 fathoms or shallower. They also burrow at night into the soft substrate and spend their days feeding on zooplankton. They’re not equipped to frequent deep, high-­pressure water, thus don’t expect to see big ­concentrations at the canyons.

Why do they gather, and why recently have they flooded the 20- to 40-fathom area from Maryland to New York from mid-June to mid-September? Those are more-difficult questions to answer, but it seems likely that the mass migration involves a food source. Adult and larval sand lances feed primarily on copepods (immature crustaceans) and other tiny animals, so they might be focused on a new zooplankton bloom.

Regardless of the reason, the ­sand eels now congregate so thickly that once you’re into them, you often can’t read bottom on your sounder. And it’s clear that when they’re abundant, they attract a host of predators — most important of which are bluefin and yellowfin tuna — that gorge on the smallish baits with reckless abandon.

Where to Find Sand Eels and Tuna

“It’s all about finding life when you make these midshore tuna runs,” says New Jersey charter captain Gene Quigley (shorecatch.com). “I’d say we look for whales more than anything, but there are certainly other indicators.”

Not only do whales and tuna feed on this same prey, but both bluefin and yellowfin tuna often swim directly beneath the whales, possibly slurping up stunned sand eels after a whale has lunge-fed.

“We look for [bottlenose] dolphin too,” Quigley continues. “Not just the rolling ones, but the ones that are clearly smashing sand eels.”

Finding cow-nosed rays in 150 to 200 feet of water in July or August might be one of the best tuna signs. “Man, you run across a school of cow-nosed rays, and you’re a fool not to stop on it,” says New York captain Cory Crochetiere. “Drop a jig under them, and it’s often an immediate hookup.”

On a clear, calm day, you can see rays pushing water when they’re on the surface. But often they swim 10 feet or more down. When they pass under your boat, they’re easy to see. For better or worse, rays also hit a jig or soft plastic.

Rays often appear accompanied by storm petrels, or what we call “tuna chicks”—small unassuming birds that seem to dance on the water. Just the presence of these birds, with or without the rays, can indicate sand eels, and subsequently tuna.

The petrels clearly don’t feed on sand eels. More likely they’re eating the same planktonic animals as the sand eels. A mother lode of storm petrels signals a mandatory stop, but even if you see just a half-dozen, give it a try. “We had our largest bluefin one year, casting a stickbait at a flock of what was maybe six or seven tuna chicks,” Crochetiere says. “A 250-pound-class bluefin came out of nowhere and crushed the plug.”

Shearwater birds also can suggest the presence of sand eels. If you see shearwaters circling high above the water, make a stop. They might be seeing something that you can’t, such as big pods of sand eels or even cruising tuna.

While you’ll likely see such life fairly close to shore, inside 20 fathoms, you probably won’t see tuna, at least during the June-to-September period. We really don’t stop on anything inside 20 fathoms, unless we see obvious signs of tuna feeding. Generally, we find the sweet spot in the 30-fathom range.

However, even in that depth range, if the water looks green or dirty, most of the time we just move. You occasionally might find bluefin in less-than-blue water, but rarely yellowfin. Look for sand eels in cobalt-blue offshore water. That doesn’t guarantee tuna, but work the area. Nearby tuna eventually will find that bait.

Tough Tuna Fishing Gear

We fish these sand eel aggregations with soft-plastic and hard baits, using stout spinning tackle. Our favorite reels include Van Staals , Shimanos, and Daiwas. For a more affordable alternative, try the newest Penn offshore spinners. Reels should be spooled with at least 80-pound braid and 6 to 10 feet of 80- to 125-pound fluorocarbon leader.

Rods must be specific to the tuna-popping-and-jigging game as well. Popping rods measure 7 feet, 6 inches to 8 feet, 4 inches long (casting distance is important), and they should be strong in the butt section for extended fights and real lifting power.

Rods to fish soft-plastic eels can be shorter, at 6 to 7 feet, but they should demonstrate the same parabolic composition. Madd Mantis makes an affordable 7-foot all-around rod.

Summer Bluefin Tuna Fishing

Sand eels usually start to show in the 30-fathom range by mid-June. “It’s generally a water-temperature thing,” says noted New York offshore angler Ray Phelan. “Right around 65 degrees, we start to see them, and they get more abundant as things warm.”

Late spring also marks the appearance of larger (for spin-fishermen) bluefin in the 200-plus-pound category. Moving into July, the bluefin become more manageable in size—in the 80-pound range.

“Yeah, we get a few on poppers and stickbaits,” Crochetiere says, “but during the past couple of years, the shearwaters were so bad that you’d waste valuable time untangling birds. Most of the fish we catch [when that happens] are on RonZ soft-plastic baits.”

The soft-plastic tail wiggles so easily that you won’t have to impart much action to make it resemble a sand eel. Even when working this bait very slowly, it still features a ton of movement. “Tuna will often grab it on the drop,” Crochetiere says. “And we’ve certainly caught fish just dead-sticking them,” or leaving the rod in the holder.

We’ve learned over the years that bluefin like a slow bait presentation. Even with plugs, a long, slow retrieve draws way more strikes than a fast one. Once you get the RonZ below the surface, avoiding a shearwater attack, it works really well. Yes, metal jigs can and do work, but not as well as these 10-inch soft plastics.

When the birds abate, Crochetiere mixes in some poppers and stickbaits such as the Nomad Riptide. This 200 mm (8-inch) translucent floating stickbait features a single strip of reflective tape on its sides, and closely mimics a sand eel. Work this bait in a slow, sweeping fashion. Other effective plugs include the Siren Deep Seductress, Shimano Orca and Daiwa Slider.

“Poppers are pretty awesome too, if for no other reason than the often-violent blowups,” Crochetiere says. His popper choice: the Madd Mantis Atasi. “Not so easy to find anymore, but there’s something about this plug that draws crazy strikes.”

Late-Summer Yellowfin Tuna Fishing

By late July or early August, you might catch a yellowfin while targeting bluefin in that same, general 30-fathom range. And then, in what seems like the span of a few hours, the bluefin can disappear, presumably shooting up to New England and farther north.

“I’m not sure if it’s a ­temperature change, or it’s just that so many yellowfin show up that they push the bluefin out,” Quigley says, noting that the water warms to 74 or 75 degrees in midsummer.

The bait doesn’t change, however; the sand eels continue to swarm. Fishing yellowfin on sand eel aggregations remains similar to targeting bluefin, with a few nuances. Yellowfin seem to swim with the dolphins to a greater extent than the bluefin. A popper placed in front of a school of feeding dolphins often results in an explosive strike from an 80-pound tuna. Cow-nosed rays also dependably indicate nearby yellowfin; the fish often swim directly underneath the rays.

Unique to yellowfin, however, are the skipjack schools. “We have a lot of success throwing big poppers in those skipjack schools,” Quigley says. “The big yellowfin come up from underneath all those skippies and hammer them.”

I don’t think the yellowfin eat the skipjack. Both species seem to feed on the sand eels. Almost every time we clean a yellowfin, we find a stomach packed full of eels, but no skipjack.

Sand eel fishing for tuna winds down in September mainly because the weather worsens and the water cools. Yellowfin, in particular, begin to migrate to deeper water. The eels do remain, and anglers can fish another brief run of bluefin in December as the tuna head back south. During that time, fishing occurs in much shallower water closer to shore.

For summer tuna, remember that farther might not always be better. Think twice about running long, or at least keep your eyes open on the way to the deep. Find the life, and you might score big without burning all that fuel.

The post Catch Tuna Near Sand Eels appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

The exceptional swordfishing off South Florida sometimes gets lost in the hustle and bustle of Miami’s and West Palm Beach’s dazzling lifestyles. But many offshore fishermen want in on the action, and they’re quickly realizing the fishery outshines anything happening on the mainland.

Just miles off the coast are clean blue waters and deep-water humps that attract juvenile and adult swordfish year-round. Even though the swordfish are there, specialized tackle is required to catch them in depths deeper than 1,000 feet.

Before heading out by yourself, consider chartering one of the many exceptional captains that target this deep-water billfish on a regular basis. I asked top pros Capt. Dean Panos and Capt. Jay Cohen to talk about their techniques and experiences offshore. Ever since long liners were kicked out of the Florida Straits, fishermen continue to report increased catches and larger fish on a regular basis. Use the tips below to better prepare for your next trip:

What’s your basic rig for nighttime swordfishing?

Panos: At night, we fish strictly conventional reels. You can go with either 50s or 80s. I use a 2-speed reel and a custom stand up rod with a short bent butt. The reels are loaded with 80-pound monofilament ending with a short double line via a Bimini twist. I then add a 50-foot wind-on leader of 250-pound test. (If fishing strictly IGFA regulations, then the wind-on is cut back to 25 feet.)

At the end of the wind-on is a crimped ball bearing swivel. At the other end of the swivel, we crimp a bait with a short 5-foot section of 250-pound-test monofilament leader. On the wind-on, toward the top, I floss two loops. One is for the weight (usually 32 ounces). The other is 5 feet away from the lead to attach a light.

How many lines do you use at night for swordfishing?

Panos: I fish 5 or 6 rods at night. My first rod is usually a live bait — either a blue runner, goggle eye, tinker mackerel, or speedo. Those are my baits of choice. The live bait is flossed onto a 9/0 J hook. The floss is through the eye cavity, but not through the eye itself. Floss the bait on tightly so the hook doesn’t have room to swing and hook back through the bait.

I drop the first rod down 300 feet. All my rods have floss loops on the line at 100, 200 and 300 feet. At the 300-foot loop, I attach a buoy. On the stick of the buoy. I add Cyalume sticks so I can see the float. I float this rig out at least 150 yards or more.

The second rod is a dead squid rigged with a 9/0 hook and that is dropped down 200 feet, float attached, and floated out about 100 yards. The third bait is a live bait or a dead squid dropped down 100 feet. A float is attached and drifted out about 50 yards.

Next, I fish a “tip” rod in the stern corner with a squid dropped down 300 or 400 feet. The rod tip aims straight off the back corner. (A tip rod is one that does not have a buoy or jug attached to it. The line goes straight from the tip of the rod into the water.) I fish a second tip rod with a live bait down about 100 feet; this is usually hooked with a live bait and is fished off of the bow.

Depending on moon, current and other conditions, I may fish a flatline with only a light, live bait and no lead. I usually fish the flatline when there is no moon and the swords are higher in the water column.

How does daytime swordfishing differ from nighttime trips?

Panos: The daytime fishing is completely different. You basically drop a single bait to the bottom in 1,600 to 1,800 feet of water and reel it off the bottom 50 to 100 feet. The daytime fishery has been better in the past couple of years.

What’s your basic rig for daytime swordfishing?

Panos: For daytime fishing, I prefer to use a Penn Hooker Electric 80 electric/manual combo reel. The Penn Hooker Electric reel has a handle that works both in low and high gear. If you do get a bite, you can manually fight the fish with the handle. On the other hand, the reel also has an electric motor, so if you need to check the bait or relocate, you can use the electric portion of the reel to bring up your rig.

The reel is loaded with 80-pound braid. That is attached to a 150-foot wind-on leader of 250-pound test. At the end of the wind-on, we crimp on a ball bearing swivel. Then, we crimp on our bait that’s on a 5-foot section of 300-pound test and attached to a 10/0 or 11/0 hook.

At the top of the wind-on is a floss loop, which is securely tied to the mono section to ensure it does not slide. I attach a 10- to 12-pound lead weight with a snap onto the floss loop. The lead is tied to 5 feet of 60-pound-test monofilament.

On the wind-on, about 15 to 25 feet from the bait, I use two flashing strobes. These are passed through the line and secured in place with rubber bands. When you do get a fish close to the boat, these lights will slide through the line, allowing you to bring the fish right up to the swivel section. The rubber bands are used to keep the lights from sliding as you drop your bait. I prefer two strobes: one green and the second blue.

The Buoy Rod for Swordfish

Besides the primary “tip” rod, we also use a secondary “buoy” rod. The buoy rod has specific rigging to accommodate the buoy. After letting out 1,600 feet of braided line, we have a wind-on leader rigged, and that’s where the buoy is attached. Some anglers use rigging floss to attach the buoy, but heavy pressures on the buoy and floss can break the connection. So we don’t use the rigging floss.

The downside of the buoy rod is that an angler can’t re-drop or re-deploy the bait, as with the tip rod. But a buoy rod does allow a second bait presentation in a different location than the primary rod. The bait on the buoy sits as high as 600 to 800 feet off the bottom due to currents and boat drift. Let’s say a swordfish is hanging 300 feet off the bottom, it’s likely to eat the bait on the buoy rod.

What are you looking for on the depthfinder when swordfishing?

Panos: In Miami, we fish a drop-off between 1,200 and 1,600 feet of water at night. During the daytime, the depths range from 1,600 to 1,800 feet. This area has a ridge with lots of ups and downs on the bottom that in turn create upwellings and usually hold bait. Bait is usually squid, deep-water sardines and sometimes tinker mackerel. Inshore of the ridge is usually pretty flat bottom and offshore of the ridge it drops off to 2,000 feet.

The key is to keep your bait near the bottom but avoid snagging the bottom. We usually fish offshore of the ridge in areas with less ups and downs on the bottom, but with areas that do have large humps and depressions. You seem to catch more fish in the front and just behind most of the holes or mounds. You need to watch your depth recorder and adjust your bait up and down keeping close to the bottom but avoid snagging the bottom.

What are the top swordfish baits?

Panos: During the day, we use baits that are fairly durable and can withstand a sword’s brutal attack. We often used bonito strips rigged Panama-style with a large skirt over them. We also use dolphin strips, bonito bellies, dolphin bellies, squid tentacles, eels, or dead squid stitched well to the hook.

What’s the average size swordfish caught off South Florida?

Panos: My biggest fish to date is 605 pounds. That was caught during the day. At night, the biggest fish was around 460 pounds. Average size swordfish during the day is 100 to 300 pounds, and average at night is 50 to 200 pounds.

What is your favorite color of swordfish light?

Panos: Although the color of the Lindgren Pitman swordfish lights that we use are really not a factor, I favor blue, green or purple, as well as a tri-color light (blue/green/white) and a two-color light (blue/green) at night.

Backward “Back” Trolling for Swordfish

Cohen: We typically have to fish through the strong Gulf Stream current, so South Florida daytime swordfish fishermen have developed a few specialized techniques. We deploy the rig into the water facing north. As we pay out the, line I will run the boat north at about 10 knots with the current. Once the bait is below the current, about 600 feet down, we stop our forward movement.

Next, we spin the boat around to the south and start heading into the current. The goal is to get the line straight down off the back of the boat. Once we hit the bottom we bring the bait up about 100 feet. Every few minutes we will pay out line to find bottom again, then come back up 100 feet. Sometimes when the current is running fast we will have nearly 3,000 plus feet of line off the reel to hold the bottom in 1,800 feet of water. Eventually you find the “sweet spot,” the amount of line belly that keeps the bait in position.

The ultimate goal is to have the bait trolling just above the bottom at about 1.5 knots. To achieve this we will move the boat south into the current at about 1.5 to 3.5 knots. The net result is the boat and bait will be going north or “backward” at 1.5 knots.

To maintain this all day I like to use my electronics. I will set my chart plotter with a course line and an indicator telling me were I will be in two minutes. This helps me maintain a proper course and speed at a glance. Once I find the right heading that keeps us moving the correct direction against the current and prevailing wind I will engage the autopilot to help maintain course.

The post South Florida Swordfishing Techniques appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

My boat was drifting on a calm conveyor belt of water running through an ancient minefield of boulders when I drew my first strike. More precisely, four strikes. Clichés rushed to mind — “third time’s the charm” and “three strikes, you’re out”— but none ended up applying. A big bluefish had chased, crashed and missed my topwater on three successive attempts. The final hit came just as I lifted the plug from the water. The slammer blue startled and soaked me as it connected with the treble hook and ran, almost yanking the rod from my hand, the spool like a tire spinning in snow.

Moments later, Bard and I waltzed around the center console as our lines crossed and then crossed again. I ducked under Bard’s rod as he reached his over me, trying to control the chaos while I kept an eye on a boulder looming down-current. Finally, with one hand still locked on my bent rod, I cranked the engine and nudged it into gear, idling us to safer water and leading the predators out of the rocks like untrained dogs on leashes. It was late September, and shaping up to be a great afternoon along a gnarled island 8 miles off Connecticut.

Birth of World-Class Fishing Structure

About 85,000 years ago, the late Wisconsin Glacier inched its way southeast from Canada, eventually reaching southern New England approximately 26,000 years ago. As the ice mass moved, a mile high at its thickest, it compressed and scoured the landscape like a massive, creeping bulldozer.

Roughly 6,000 years later, the glacier paused just beyond Connecticut and began to recede. At this point, the huge floe deposited its end moraine — mountains of sediment composed of rocks, gravel, sand and soil — creating most of western Long Island, New York. World-class fishing structure was born.

As the glacier retreated, it paused several more times, depositing additional moraines and forming the east end of New York’s Long Island, Plum Island, Great Gull Island and Fishers Island. The glacier also dropped smaller rubble piles in northern Long Island Sound, including Falkner Island, Charles Island, the Norwalk Islands and the Captain Islands. Farther northeast, moraines also created the now-famous tourist and fishing destinations of Block Island, Rhode Island and the Elizabeth Islands, Martha’s Vineyard, and Nantucket, Massachusetts.

Boulders Attract Fishing Predators

Boulders in a tidal current are to bluefish and striped bass what rocks in a stream are to brook and brown trout. These random obstacles disturb water flow and create resting and feeding stations for predators and prey.

“Big rocks provide optimal structure and divert currents,” says Capt. Chris Elser, a shallow-water expert from southwest Connecticut with more than 35 years of experience fishing coastal islands. “The water around boulder fields becomes oxygenated from wave action and currents coursing between and over large rocks, which attracts crustaceans, eels and many other baitfish.”

Rocks also draw baits because they host seaweed, which in turn provides forage and sanctuary for prey species. “Stripers and blues stalk these baits by holding near boulders,” says Elser. “They lurk there in ambush mode. The sheltered areas also allow large fish to expend minimal energy in a highly productive feeding environment, and they feel protected in the vast structure.”

The Why and Where of Islands

Islands are worth the time, effort and fuel it takes to fish them because not everybody’s small boat can get there; only skilled and serious anglers make the trip across big bays and sounds, and that means less competition. Islands are more often adjacent to deeper water than is mainland structure, and islands have current flow on all sides, which gives fish and fishermen more options, including shelter. Islands are 360-degree habitats in which fish might feed on either the incoming, outgoing or both tide phases.

When searching for prime casting stretches, pros always study the dry land contours. For example, if the shore is flat and gradual, expect adjacent water to be shallow with a clear bottom. Conversely, if the island banks are steep and rocky, pros expect the bottom to drop off abruptly. The more rugged the structure, the better the chance of finding large fish.

With Structure, Size Does Matter

Upon idling into a promising area, experts work the outer edges of a boulder field first, where the water is deepest, and progressively move and cast closer on each drift. Points, corners and pockets are key target zones because they are near strong currents but also provide eddies where fish station and hunt.

“Dominant fish usually own the territory near the biggest rock,” says Elser, “so it’s key to find the largest piece of structure within a particular group of rocks. I prefer to fish structure on the side facing the wind because it adds to the speed of the upper currents and creates whirlpools in the boulder fields. Small baits struggle here, making for easy prey. The current and wind wash crabs, shrimp, eels and other baitfish into the surf, creating feeding opportunities.”

Capt. Ned Kittredge, a pro from southern Massachusetts with 40 years of experience, looks for shallows of 2 to 20 feet over rocky shoreline structure with moving water. “I’ve found stripers in as little as 18 inches of water,” he says. “The action in this range can be phenomenal and breathtaking. But it’s not necessarily fast water. The current I look for is more subtle. On the deep end, if there’s bait present and the fish are feeding, they’ll come up from 20 feet to grab a plug. But not much deeper than that.”

Working the Waters

Stripers and bluefish spook easily when feeding in less than 15 feet of water during calm conditions, so it’s important to cover the water before your boat drifts through. When the current is moving fast, slowing your boat is a good technique that enables you to fan-cast the edges of the boulder field before being pushed past them. You can employ a trolling motor, push-pole or anchor to control your drift.

Kittredge starts a drift in approximately 25 feet of water and slowly works toward shore, casting over as much area as possible until he locates fish. “I’ll sometimes use a drift sock to slow the boat,” he says of those times when there is a breeze opposing the current.

When conditions are right, the most challenging and exciting way to access big fish is to stalk them in skinny water among the boulders. Cutting-edge anglers use their fishing boat as a mothership to transport kayaks or stand-up paddleboards to an island, and then deploy them to paddle over water too shallow for a powerboat.

“On calm days,” says guide Sean Callinan, who specializes in SUP adventures along the Connecticut coast, “you can’t beat the thrill of casting a plug or fly to predators while gliding through a maze of structure that may hold your trophy.”

Of course, paddlers must bring all necessary safety gear, including a flotation device, a cellphone in a resealable bag, a bottle of water, a signaling device and a pair of waterproof handheld radios to communicate with the mothership. An experienced companion must man the mothership and fish within sight of the paddler.

Topwater Fishing Tricks for Stripers

“First,” says Capt. Dixon Merkt, a light-tackle and fly specialist along the tide-swept islands and rips of eastern Long Island Sound, “you need to learn how to read the water. Look for nervous water created by the current moving over submerged structure. Start fishing ahead of it and work your way down through it. Never hesitate to cast way beyond that nervous water and retrieve the plug back over it so it looks like an escaping baitfish traveling over a distance.”

Any retrieve works for blues and bass when they’re aggressive and hungry. But when they’re fussy, you’ll need to vary your technique until you find one that produces. For bluefish, a steady, fast and noisy retrieve is effective. But for stripers, most pros slowly work a spook or pencil popper in a walk-the-dog style. Occasionally changing speed or pausing will often prompt a strike from a stubborn linesider.

“If you get a blue that short-hits and misses the plug several times,” says Merkt, “stop and then start the fast retrieve again. You’re likely to hook up on the next attack.”

Once a fish grabs your topwater, you’ll need to put some backbone into the set because a slow-moving lure won’t set itself. “Blues and big stripers have a mouth as hard as Tupperware,” says Kittredge, “and you need to punch a hole in it. Once a fish is hooked, use plenty of pressure to work it out of the rocks as quickly as possible, using the motor if necessary, and hope for good luck. I’ve lost plenty of big bass because I wasn’t ready for a fish of that size.”

Best Times to Fish and the Best Rigs to Use

“As a rule of thumb,” says Elser, “the lower the light, the shallower the water you can productively target. Ninety percent of my topwater fishing takes place near dawn and dusk.

Elser favors a 12- to 20-pound-class 7-foot rod loaded with 30-pound Daiwa braided line. He attaches a 3-foot section of 25-pound fluorocarbon leader.

Kittredge slings his big lures with 7- to 8-foot medium spinning rods, like those from G. Loomi . He matches the rod with a Shimano 5000 spinning reel. He likes 40-pound braided main line for its abrasion resistance in the boulders and positive hook-sets. To that he attaches a 4- to 6-foot section of 40-pound fluorocarbon leader using a double uni-knot for the line-to-leader connection.

“Eels cost a lot,” says Kittredge, “and they don’t really work properly when fish are against the rocks in the wave wash in only 2 to 3 feet of water. Plugs produce well in skinny water and rarely get hung up. Plus, you can get out fishing in a moment’s notice with minimal preparation. Best of all, it’s extremely exciting seeing a big fish smack a topwater.”

Dave Bard and I finished our September evening with three big bluefish, about a dozen schoolie bass and one 37-inch trophy. As we ran back across the pond in the fading twilight, we traded waves with tourists on a passing ferry, happy that we were in the smaller vessel, returning from a great boulder-field adventure.

Tips for Safely Fishing Boulder Fields

Casting among island boulders miles from the mainland has its rewards but also its risks. The surf, wind or current can quickly push you into the rocks, causing grounding, hull damage or a busted prop. “The cost of failure is very high,” notes Capt. Merkt. “Twice, with an old engine, I suddenly couldn’t get it started and ended up frantically throwing out an anchor, and both times had the stern swing within feet of a turbulent shore. These aren’t places that inexperienced fishermen should go.”

• Have an anchor handy and ready.
• Never fish alone.
• Anchor or use a trolling motor when fishing in an onshore wind.
• Pay attention, even when you’re fighting the big one.
• Study your chart, know the depth contours and structure, and set up drifts in the safe zone.
• Use your GPS tracking option to monitor and repeat safe drifts.
• Have someone skilled at the helm.
• Leave the motor running during turbulent conditions.
• Keep your engine tilted as high as possible without sucking air.
• Use a telescopic push pole to fend off rocks.
• Learn the waters and structures at high and low tides.
• Wear polarized sunglasses to help watch for rocks.
• Leave a float plan with someone reliable.

The post Catch Striped Bass and Bluefish Near Boulders appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

Given a choice, most offshore and inshore anglers would fish live bait for everything, from seatrout and sailfish to tarpon and tuna. But sometimes, fishermen deliberately choose dead bait, and not just when they run out of liveys or during a dead-bait-only tournament. Dead ballyhoo, menhaden, mullet and bonito, as well as strips and chunks of those baitfish, can at times actually be more effective than live bait.

A dead bait can be deployed exactly where and how it needs to be fished, whereas a live bait can swim out of the target zone or tangle another line. In addition, the scent of a fresh dead bait can prove more attractive to predators than the nervousness of a live bait. Some predators also prefer an easy meal over chasing a live bait.

The Dead Bait Tarpon Rig

“A tarpon may be a silver king, but he’s still a scavenger,” says Capt. Greg Hildreth of St. Simons Island, Georgia, who almost always puts out some dead baits on the bottom when he’s fishing for poons. Hildreth (georgiacharter​­fishing​.com) uses dead Atlantic menhaden, more commonly known as pogies, and fishes in water depths from 8 to 25 feet. “I’ll fish four or five rods, some with live bait, some with dead,” Hildreth says. “I’ll fish at least two live baits on top and dead baits on or close to the bottom.”

Hildreth castnets his live pogies the morning of a tarpon trip and puts some of the baits on ice. He hooks a dead pogy through the eyes on an 8/0 Gamakatsu circle hook. Hildreth says the large hook size works because of coastal Georgia’s poor water clarity.

“I figure bigger is better, just for the simple fact that I can put a lot of pressure on these fish, and get them to the boat fast and released,” he explains, adding that he uses scissors to cut off the pogy’s tail. “That keeps it from spinning in the ­current and puts scent in the water.”

He fishes Penn International reels, spooled with 80-pound braided line, and attaches 4 feet of 120- to 150-pound monofilament leader to the main line with a 150-pound snap snivel. Hildreth adds a quarter-ounce egg sinker to the leader to fish the pogy midwater. If he wants the bait on the bottom, he’ll use a 1½- to 2-ounce lead. To keep the sinker from sliding too far, he crimps a sleeve 2½ feet above the hook. At the terminal end of the leader, he ties on the hook with an improved clinch knot, which “gives the hook what it needs to set when it’s in the rod holder.”

Targeting Red Drum with Dead Bait

Hildreth also fishes dead pogies on the same 8/0 inline circle hook for bull redfish. His tackle includes Penn Spinfisher 7500 reels and Penn Carnage rods. He rigs a 4- or 5-ounce pyramid sinker 4 inches above the hook to prevent the big reds—which typically range from 18 to 30 pounds—from inhaling the bait too deeply.

He crimps the sinker in place on a 150-pound monofilament leader that is 3 to 3½ feet long. The heavy leader doesn’t spook the fish, and makes it easy for Hildreth to take a double-wrap and lift the fish into the boat.

Chunks of mullet or whiting also catch redfish, and Hildreth sometimes uses the remnants of legal-size trout that he’s filleted. “When I’m speckled trout fishing, if I know I’m going to fish for bull redfish in a day or so, I’ll keep the carcasses of the trout, the head being the best bait. Anything that smells nasty and fishy, they’ll eat,” he says. “If it’s a small trout, 14 to 15 inches (14 inches is Georgia’s legal minimum), I’ll go right through the eye sockets with the hook. If it’s a bigger trout, I’ll go from the ­bottom lip to the top lip.”

Trolling Bonito Strips

Capt. Abie Raymond trolls bonito strips for bonito, kingfish, sailfish, tuna, wahoo and dolphin out of Miami Beach, Florida. To prepare his baits, he ­fillets a bonito and removes most of the meat with a knife blade, until the ­fillet is ⅛ inches thick. That allows the hook to penetrate a fish’s mouth more efficiently.

He cuts the fillet with the blade angled to produce a beveled edge, which is hydrodynamic, yielding a strip that resembles a thin baitfish. Raymond squares off one end—which will serve as the top of the strip—and pokes a hole in it with the knife. He sprinkles kosher salt over the strips to remove water from them and toughen them up, then places them in a zip-closure plastic bag.

To fish them, Raymond uses Penn International 16 reels spooled with 20-pound line. The leader setup starts with 4 to 6 feet of 50-pound ­fluorocarbon. He ties a perfection loop at one end and clips it into a snap swivel. The terminal end of the leader features a flashy, reverse-feather Mylar Sea Witch—his favorite colors are pink-and-blue and blue-and-white—above a Mustad 7/0 J hook tied to the leader with a six‑turn improved clinch knot.

Raymond inserts a 4-inch piece of Monel wire through the hook eye, wraps it below the eye three times, and then threads it back through the eye. He runs the Monel through the hole at the top of the strip so the meat side of the strip runs along the shank of the hook. He then wraps the wire below the tag end of the clinch knot to secure the strip, and pokes the hook point through the ­center of the strip.

“That’s our favorite dead bait to work with [from June through September],” Raymond says. “We’ll put out two of those strip baits on our outriggers 80 to 120 feet behind the boat, along with a lure like a Billy Bait or Dolphin Jr. We stagger them: A 20-foot feather, a 40-foot feather, an 80-foot strip and a 100-foot strip would be our typical four-bait spread.”

Raymond favors trolling bonito strips over ballyhoo because strips last longer and can be cut to resemble a 4-, 6- or 8-inch flying fish, its wings imitated by the Sea Witch. “Another huge ­advantage of a strip over a ballyhoo is if a sailfish grabs a ballyhoo and rips off the tail, you’re done. A bonito strip, he’ll just grab it and grab it. It might stretch and get longer, and the meat might come off, but the skin’s still there swimming and looking beautiful,” he says.

Dead ballyhoo, of course, still remain a popular trolling bait, especially for dolphin. Raymond rigs skirted ballyhoo on a Mustad 3417 7/0 J hook tied to a 15-foot, 50-pound monofilament wind-on leader on a 20-pound spinning outfit. “You fish it like a strip, 80 to 120 feet behind an outboard boat, 60 to 100 feet behind an inboard boat,” Raymond says. “You want to troll at 6 to 6½ knots.”

Whether they’re dead or alive, fresh natural baits—rigged meticulously and fished properly—­consistently produce for anglers whether offshore on the troll or nearshore on the bottom. Use each option to your advantage. Dead bait might be old-school, but it never goes out of style.

The post Fishing Dead Bait: Old-School Theories and Updated Techniques appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.