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You’ve brought a nice fish to hand, and you want a photo to preserve the memory and brag on social media. How much time do you have to admire the fish before letting it go?

If you said, “10 seconds,” your information is correct. And the source of that information may well be Andy Danylchuk, Ph.D., one of the most prominent advocates for fish and their habitats in recent years. A self-described hardcore angler, Danylchuk is the science advisor to Keep Fish Wet, an organization dedicated to proper catch and release.

Danylchuk’s a busy scientist who, among other things, helped figured out where bonefish spawn while working with the Bonefish & Tarpon Trust in the 2000s. He’s also studied Atlantic tarpon, giant trevally in the Seychelles, golden dorado in South America, steelhead in the Pacific northwest, and sea-run brook trout in New England. He taught himself to fly fish and caught his first fish on a fly rod, a bonefish, on a fly he tied himself. He has had the good sense to live in the Turks and Caicos and the Bahamas, but today lives in Massachusetts, where he is a professor of fish conservation at UMass Amherst.

Danylchuk is on a “personal crusade” to get anglers to release their fish carefully and promptly to assure their survival after being returned to the water. He is also concerned with protecting aquatic ecosystems, having grown up near the Great Lakes at a time when each angler got “the equivalent of a small phone book” full of warnings about which pollutants were found in which fish.

“I loved fish and fishing so much, and I saw so many other people also loving to fish. They express how it has changed, and it keeps them out of trouble, like it did for me,” he said. “But I also saw the impacts of human activity on fish and aquatic environments.”

A Lifelong Angler

Born in Toronto, Canada, Danylchuk traces his fascination with the underwater world to a family trip to Andros, Bahamas, in 1973. “I remember walking along on the beach, and my dad putting a mask on my face and shoving me in the water, and what I saw was incredible,” he said. The experience “instilled in me an awe of nature and the aquatic environment.”

The first actual tug from a fish came a few years later, on a relative’s trout pond north of home, using a hand-me-down rod with the reel held on by rubber bands. “I was pretty naïve about how strong and powerful trout can be. I hooked a trout, and it just ripped the reel off the rod. That really started me on the path.” He hand-lined the fish. In his teens, he and his best friend, then and now, had chances to fish for bass and pike in lakes north of Toronto, and snook, redfish, and sea trout in Captiva Island, Florida.

Despite “good grades in bio and art and terrible grades in everything else,” Danylchuk was admitted to Trent University, where he turned in an honors thesis about marine fishes in Jamaica. Grad school took him back to Trent University for his masters and then to the University of Alberta in Edmonton, where he earned a doctorate and studied the impact of forestry on fish populations.

While in northern Alberta, where it was “cold and dark and nasty, remembering wonderful days when I was 5 with my head in the water in the Bahamas,” he learned of a position at The School for Field Studies in South Caicos, where he took up fly fishing after watching a friend catch a 7-pound bonefish in calf-deep water.

“I took my angler hat off and put my scientist hat on, and wondered, ‘How much do we really know about bonefish?’” he said. Only a few years later, he helped launch the Cape Eleuthera Institute in the Bahamas, and set to work studying bonefish reproduction and how they respond to being caught and released. Patagonia and Bonefish & Tarpon Trust contributed funding.

Danylchuk’s “geographical range expanded” in 2009 when he joined the faculty at UMass Amherst. “Everything I learned along the way in terms of science and education and outreach, I could apply now to many other places around the world,” he said.

The professor makes a point of translating what he and his students and collaborators learn into information anglers can use. Keep Fish Wet is the obvious example. Barbless hooks, rubber nets, awareness of water temperatures and spawning status, limiting lip grippers and boosting hook removers, and judicious picture-taking–all can make it more likely your fish survives and thrives. And with something like 47 billion fish caught worldwide (an old estimate) and more than half of them released, best practices can have a huge impact.

“What I see when I go fishing for striped bass is a large number of fish being caught and released, and a lot of those striped bass spending a lot of time on the bottom of the boat, being held up in the air for long periods of time, and being dragged across the gunnels. And if we really care about the future of striped bass, that’s got to change,” he said. “Each angler has the chance to practice conservation with each fish they release.”

(Striped bass is an especially good example. A post-covid surge in fishing, combined with the arrival of the huge 2015 class of stripers and ample bait, to create an astonishing catch rate in 2022. An emergency 28- to 31-inch slot limit was imposed in response, which means an awful lot of stripers are being released.)

A Skilled Communicator

Aaron Adams, executive director of Bonefish & Tarpon Trust, called working with Danylchuk “enjoyable and rewarding,” and credited him with influencing anglers to handle their fish with care.

“Andy is one of the rare colleagues who is not only a good scientist, but is good at communicating science in layman’s terms, which is an essential part of conservation science,” Adams said.

But while he has dedicated a big chunk of his career to promoting best C&R practices, Danylchuk doesn’t want to scold.

“Anglers don’t like to be told what to do,” he said. “They like to be shown, or they like to learn. As an angler I can understand that too: I don’t want be told what to do, I want to experience it myself. It’s a personal evolution as an angler to learn about these best practices.” If things go poorly with one fish, “What am I going to do differently for the next fish? Instead of taking a hard line, how about we work as partners and we’ll demonstrate the best ways fish can be handled and released?”

The post The Catch and Release Professor: Andy Danylchuk appeared first on Salt Water Sportsman.

The Cape Cod Canal is one of the most popular, infamous land-based striped bass fishing spots in the Northeast. In total, the stretch runs seven miles of rocky shoreline, ripping currents, and a world of possibilities. The manmade waterway connects Cape Cod Bay to Buzzards Bay.

It’s popularity is obvious for a host of reasons. Most importantly, it’s accessible to non-boaters. The Atlantic striped bass use the canal as a shortcut during their annual migration. As opposed to going around the outside of Cape Cod — a much longer route — stripers save time and energy utilizing the strong currents to move north and south. With depths of up to 50 feet, not fishing from a boat, and tons of spots to choose from, the legendary canal can be an intimidating landscape. We want to help you tackle it. Here are five things you must have to fish the Cape Cod Canal.

Studded Boots for Fishing the Rocks

Let’s start with something that may not seem like an obvious piece of fishing gear, but is paramount when fishing the Cape Cod Canal — a nice set of studded boots. Many people visiting the canal, or the Northeast in general, don’t realize how large the tidal swings are on a daily basis. We are talking about differences from 6 to 12 feet depending on moon phases, time of year, and plenty of other variables. With such large tidal swings, this means that much of the rocky terrain that anglers use to cast and fish from is exposed to water on a daily basis. This exposure makes the terrain in the canal extremely slippery and surprisingly dangerous. Much of the shoreline is littered with rocks that can be as slick as an icicle.

Studded boots, from makers such as Korkers, give you the traction you need to land those big fish and, most importantly, stay safe. The drop-offs in the canal are huge and the current rips are no joke — it’s not a place you want to take a chance. The jetties are tall and looming, so safety is paramount.

Fish Grippers to Handle Striped Bass

Fish grippers are another tool that may slip many anglers’ minds, especially people who are used to fishing from beaches or boats. With the terrain you’ll be fishing from, to be able to safely land a fish, you want a pair of reliable fish grippers. Although it may not seem important, when you go to land that trophy striped bass, you have to climb down to get it. You’re going to be super happy to have those grippers. The grippers will also help you avoid taking a treble to the hand. Many of the baits people commonly use to fish the canal have large trebles. The grippers are vital to avoiding one of those hooks ending up in your hand.

Here are three lures I always have when targeting striped bass and bluefish in the Cape Cod Canal.

A 9-Inch Topwater Spook Lure

When it comest to lures, I want options to cover all parts of the water column. We want to fish the top,
middle and bottom to be successful. To cover the top, you’re going to need to tie on a 9-inch topwater spook. The color is not as important as the length. The striped bass and blues that come into the canal are feeding on three things: green mackerel, bunker or sand eels. Bass typically focus on the larger profile baits. To properly replicate that, you’re going to want a larger spook. Not only will the larger profile help “match the hatch,” it will also allow you to cover greater casting distances.

The Magic Swimmer Swimbait Lure

The Magic Swimmer could be the most prolific canal bait. This one lure has been responsible for more stripers than arguably any other lure in the Cape Cod Canal. It’s a hard plastic swimbait that is attached together by wire, similar to a glide bait. Berkley makes slow sinking and fast sinking variants. My recommendation is to always use the heavier fast sinking option so that you can cover more water.

If you need to retrieve the lure closer to the top, you can hold your rod in a more elevated position and retrieve faster. If you need to go lower in the water column, you can retrieve it slower. The depths in the canal vary, but they average greater than 20 feet. This bait is not meant to get to the bottom. The benefit of this bait is that you can do a straight retrieve against the ripping current. The action really stands out in the current, so stripers and blues love it.

The Savage Gear Sand Eel Lure

The Savage Gear Sand Eel is another icon of the Cape Cod Canal. Use the green mackerel color. This is a swim bait that incorporates a jig. A heavy jighead paired with a sleek, soft plastic paddle tail allows this bait to get to the bottom. With the currents and depths you’ll experience, bouncing bottom can be very hard to do at times in the canal. This swimbait is 5.33 ounces in weight, but you need that weight to get down to the bottom.

What makes this lure so good? Why so specific on color and size? Let’s start with why it’s so good.

The shape of the jighead on this swimbait cuts through current and sinks faster better than other baits. When it hits bottom, it’s meant to hit with the head down and the tail up. This movement replicates what sand eels do. They dig their nose in the sand and a striper typically eats them from the back. If you’ve ever seen striped bass eating sand eels in shallow water, they use their nose to dig them out of the sand and slurp them up. The color and size are important because, although this is meant to work on the bottom and replicate a sand eel, you are replicating green mackerel — another striper favorite in the canal.

Use these three lures at the Cape Cod Canal to catch trophy striped bass and blues. The best times to go vary year to year but traditionally, my favorite time is June and September. In June, the stripers are typically migrating north. In September, you can catch the fall run as they migrate south.

The post Five Must-Haves for Fishing the Cape Cod Canal appeared first on Salt Water Sportsman.

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Sometimes, catching a trophy fish is the result of years of experience and meticulous preparation. And sometimes you get lucky. Jeff McCoy, who recently set the Delaware state record for king mackerel, is the first to admit his catch falls in the lucky category. “I’ve never caught a king mackerel before,” he laughs.

King mackerel are an unusual catch in Delaware. The state’s fisheries department website lists king mackerel as “uncommon.” The previous state record of 48 pounds, 9 ounces was set in 1992 by Gordon Harris. A king mackerel over 10 pounds qualifies as a Delaware trophy. When Jeff McCoy set out shark fishing with his family, he never could have predicted how the day would end.

Accidental King Mackerel

McCoy calls himself a weekend warrior. “I’ve only been fishing in the ocean for a couple years,” he says. His in-laws and wife wanted to catch a big fish, so McCoy decided to try shark fishing. “It was only the third or fourth time we’ve tried to catch a shark,” he admits.

King mackerel fishing usually involves slow trolling live baits with light wire and small treble hooks. These sharp eyed fish are wary of heavy tackle and picky about their meals. Professional king mackerel anglers go to great lengths to fool these fish.

McCoy had none of that. Targeting sharks, he anchored his 25-foot center console Reel McCoy along a series of shallow shoals within a couple miles of the beach. The crew set out three PENN 50-pound class combos spooled with 80 pound test monofilament, a 4-foot, 100-pound wire leader and large, offset circle hooks.

McCoy was not able to catch live bait, so he was using frozen Boston mackerel he purchased at Hook ‘em and Cook ‘em Bait and Tackle. McCoy added a bucket of chum to the spread and set out three baits under balloon floats. “The boat was sitting at a strange angle to the chum slick, so I ran one line through an outrigger clip and dropped the bait way back.”

The crew settled in to wait for a bite. “The fish hit the bait and took off screaming,” McCoy recalls. Unfortunately, the reel was in free spool so the line exploded into a hopeless backlash. “I couldn’t clear the tangle so I tightened the drag and started lopping the line on top of the birdsnest.”

The battle raged for 15 minutes. “Even with the drag pinned, the fish was pulling line,” McCoy says. When the fish made its first pass, McCoy thought it was a wahoo. “I would have never imagined a king mackerel.”

When McCoy worked the king mackerel close to the boat, the fish shot to the bow and tangled the fishing line around the anchor rope. McCoy’s brother-in-law jumped to the rescue. Instead of cutting the fishing line, he cut the anchor rope, cleared the tangle and reconnected the anchor rope. “He saved the anchor,” McCoy points out.

Despite the smoker king’s best tricks, the crew landed the huge kingfish. “I never thought about the state record,” McCoy says.

Race to the Dock

McCoy didn’t have ice onboard, so they pulled the anchor and raced 18 miles back to Indian River Inlet.

When Reel McCoy pulled into Indian River Marina, the docks were quiet. McCoy figures, “Everyone was at lunch or out fishing.” The crew wheeled the huge king mackerel to the fish cleaning station. “I pulled it out of the cooler and the fish cleaners were shocked.”

Out of curiosity, McCoy decided to weigh the fish. “They told me I crushed the state record.”

In short order, representatives of Delaware Department of Natural Resources and Environmental Control (DNREC) were on the scene weighing the fish and helping McCoy fill out forms. Meanwhile, a crowd gathered to gawk at the catch.

“A week later they approved the record,” McCoy says. The 52-pound, 11.2-ounce king mackerel is already listed as the state record on DNREC website and the story has hit social media and national news. McCoy laughs, “My phone has been ringing.”

Grey’s Taxidermy is working on a replica of the catch. The state record holder says, “I’m going to look at it every chance I get.”

As for king mackerel fishing, McCoy is confident in his system. “We’re not going to change a thing.”

The post Big King Breaks Delaware Record appeared first on Salt Water Sportsman.

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Fishing Louisiana’s vast array of bays, marshes and other inshore waters is something every shallow-water saltwater and freshwater angler must experience. Redfish are the most popular inshore fish in the country, and the state shaped like a boot is a mecca for this coveted gamefish species.

With what seems like endless creeks, ponds, bays, marsh and grass to explore, southern Louisiana is one of the last remaining coastal areas that’s still relatively undeveloped. That means there’s plenty of untouched water full of fish that haven’t seen a lure in months. The most intriguing part of this sight fishery is the best local techniques pull from bass fishing, not traditional saltwater flats fishing. Unsurprising, you’re likely to catch largemouth bass while fishing for species such as redfish or speckled trout.

After a recent Salt Water Sportsman Adventures trip to the Redfish Lodge in Venice, Louisiana, I quickly learned that a bass fisherman might excel at targeting Louisiana reds more so than a traditional saltwater flats angler like myself. I enjoy casting big, noisy topwater lures to species such as snook, tarpon and jacks — those plugs would have been laughed out of the marsh.

Not only is the landscape similar to something you might find on the banks of Lake Okeechobee, but the catching methods are comparable to techniques that bass anglers have used for decades. The three primary lures we used to catch redfish and black drum were spinnerbaits, creature baits and topwater frogs.

We used Strike King baits on this trip, as Capt. Mike Frenette (owner operator of the lodge) has a strong relationship with the lure company. In particular, we used the Strike King Redfish Magic spinnerbait, and swimbaits such as the Strike King Flood Minnow. These exact waters also beg for a creature bait, such as the Rage Craw, pinned to a jig. Lastly, although I didn’t personally use this method on the trip, topwater frogs like the KVD Sexy Frog produce quality reds and black drum.

Saltwater Spinnerbaits

Picture this waterscape: Scattered grass, Roseau cane and piles of vegetation everywhere you look, all held in place by muddy bottom. That’s where these bronze Louisiana redfish hide and that’s why tried-and-true bass fishing methods translate so well to catching them. 

The guides at the Redfish Lodge have a combined 50-plus years of experience in these waters. They explained that the spinnerbait is the best way to catch both redfish and black drum. These saltwater spinnerbaits pair a soft plastic (not a skirt) with a blade. The captains are convinced the fish eat it because it imitates the movements of a crab. Black drum are notorious for eating only crustaceans — not baitfish — so the theory has strong merit.  

Redfish use their lateral line like a sixth sense. They can feel the vibrations around them as they navigate the often-murky waters. The spinnerbaits not only have visual appeal, they also create a substantial amount of subsurface vibration. That’s why drum can’t resist — it triggers a reaction bite. Whether sight casting or blind casting, the spinnerbait is an extremely effective method for catching both redfish and black drum. Make sure this lure is always tied to one of your rods when exploring the marsh.

Creature Baits Catch Redfish

Creature baits also work extremely well, in particular, something that resembles a small minnow, crab or crawfish. Anything that can bounce the bottom with a jig when you spot a fish. With how dense the weeds and grass are in the marshes, creature baits work best when sight fishing as opposed to blind casting. Even after you’re able to spot a tail or fish movement, you still need to execute a well-placed cast to get them to eat. Cast your bait on their nose and make sure it’s able to fall quickly.

Something like a Strike King Flood Minnow does wonders when targeting these fish. That exact bait also does well for largemouth bass. You don’t have much time in the strike zone before your lure is snotted-up from vegetation, so make those presentations count. If you can place a soft-plastic creature bait near a redfish or black drum’s face, chances are they’ll hit it before spooking. 

Topwater Frogs in the Louisiana Marsh

Topwater frogs are one of the most prolific largemouth bass baits in the history of the sport. Although I personally wasn’t able to get one on the topwater frog during this trip, the guides I fished with assured me it’s one of the most effective ways to catch redfish. These fish are foraging in such dense vegetation that it’s not uncommon for them to eat just about anything at the surface. Sure, they might not know exactly what it is, but a baitfish, crab, shrimp or even a frog is a tasty treat.

Just like a bass angler peppers grass beds, weeds, and lily pads with a frog, redfish anglers should do the same. Louisiana anglers often have the benefit of seeing the drum’s fins or wake before having to make a cast. The most crucial attribute of the topwater frog is that it’s weedless. Traditional topwater baits like poppers and spooks might work, but you wouldn’t be able to work them more than a couple of feet before the trebles snagged grass.

Louisiana redfish are not shy like their Florida cousins. If they hear something, they’ll head toward it. Is it a meal? Is it another redfish eating something? That’s why Louisiana captains tell anglers not to lead fish with a lure — just cast that bait right at their mouth.

Sight fishing for redfish and black drum in the Louisiana marsh is an incredible experience that’s sure to exhilarate any angler. Bass anglers will feel right at home, and their baitcasters might actually get a drag work out too! I’d recommend visitors hire guides that know the waters well. Channels and creeks range from deep to mud bars, and the topography is ever changing. Don’t get your boat stuck in a bad spot.

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Pacific bluefins off the coast of Southern California often prove elusive, even when big schools are boiling and jumping around the boat, driving anglers to distraction as they frantically try everything they know to get a bite. The pursuit has often led to scaling back on tackle, line, lures and baits to finesse a bluefin into eating, ­many times to no avail.

But last summer, some angler—no one’s absolutely sure who or where it happened (see below)—discovered something completely different: speed-trolling a lipless diving plug.

It worked. Previously disinterested bluefins ranging from 40 to 250 pounds found the fast-moving, vibrating lures irresistible. And as word got out, it triggered a buying frenzy of big lipless trolling plugs, most notably the Nomad Design Madmacs. Anglers feverishly combed through tackle stores and online retail websites. This—combined with hoarding behavior—quickly depleted the available stock. 

Price gouging grew rampant, and desperate anglers paid double, triple or even quadruple the suggested retail price to get their hands on the coveted fast trollers, and with good reason: They were racking up impressive catches. Today there are plenty of Madmacs and other effective lipless trolling plugs in stock, and prices have mercifully returned to normal—around $50 to $55 each.

Speed Demons

If you plan to speed-troll for Pacific bluefins this summer, ­having the right lures is essential. The best plugs were originally designed for trolling for wahoo at speeds as fast as 15 to 20 knots. 

The lipless designs allow greater speeds than lipped plugs, such as the 7-inch Rapala X-Rap Magnum that’s rated for speeds to 13 knots. Lipless designs are also less likely to track off-center, pop to the surface, or become barbed projectiles while reeling them back to the boat. 

The Madmacs 200 and 240 high-speed plugs serve as the benchmarks for bluefin speed-trolling, but other lipless plugs produced bluefins last summer, including the Halco Max 190 or 220, MagBay Desperado MagDog, Savage Gear Mackstick Speed Runner and Yo-Zuri Bonito 210. 

While some anglers have favorite colors, such as purple, pink or mackerel, it’s not likely that color makes a big difference when the lure races along underwater. The best guess is that blistering speeds trigger reaction bites. Bluefins have only seconds to grab and go, and that leaves little time to evaluate the color of a potential meal. 

Throttle Jockey

So, how fast do you need to troll for bluefins? Typically, speeds range from 9 to 12 knots, but sometimes even faster—as high as 14 knots—if the slower speeds are not triggering strikes when fish are in the area. 

The faster the trolling speed, the deeper these sinking lures run, though not as deep as lipped plugs such as the X-Rap Magnum, which can dive down to 40 feet. The Madmacs 200, on the other hand, maxes out at 12 feet, while the 240 dives to 15 feet. Those depths seem more than sufficient for success.

One downside to speed-trolling is fuel consumption. At speeds of around 12 to 14 knots, many saltwater boats run at an awkward, bow-high stage between displacement and planing speeds. Let’s call it plowing, and it results in the worst possible efficiency. For this reason, many trollers keep the speed at a more efficient 10 knots until they spot fish in the area or schools show up on sonar, then they ramp up the speed.  

Long Game

If there is a factor common across all the techniques for Pacific bluefins, it involves stealth and putting some distance between the fish and the boat. These tuna grow extremely wary of boat noise and prop wash. To compensate for the bluefin’s inherent wariness, speed-trollers put the lures at least 100 yards behind the boat, and sometimes as far as 150 yards.

To gauge the amount of line they let out, most use color-coded braided line such as PowerPro Depth Hunter Offshore, which has a different color (blue, orange, green, red and yellow) every 100 feet. This makes it easy to establish the distance and track the line while trolling. 

Another downside to this technique comes into play with so much line out. There’s the distinct possibility of another boat crossing your wake, running over your lines, and cutting off your expensive lures. For this reason, speed-trolling for Pacific bluefins works best when there’s minimal boat traffic. 

Rig for Success

Anglers often use fairly large lever-drag two-speed reels, such as Okuma’s Makaira 50W II or Shimano’s Talica 50 II, loaded with 80- to 100-pound-test braid to ensure that there is sufficient line capacity to handle a cow—the name assigned to any Pacific bluefin over 200 pounds. Reels are matched to heavy-action trolling rods, sometimes with bent butts to keep the line angle as low as possible while trolling.

Speed-trollers use 50- to 100-foot wind-on 100-pound-test fluorocarbon or monofilament leader, crimping the lipless plug to the bitter end using chafe tubing to prevent line wear. The heavy wind-on helps prevent the tuna from chewing through the ­leader material, in case the fish inhales the lure. The ­theory is that by avoiding the use of a swivel or other terminal gear, there’s no bubble stream or other tipoff that can deter tuna from attacking the lure.  

Read Next: Pro Tactics for High-Speed Trolling

The Right Time

While speed-trolling can be deadly effective, it’s not a good technique to search for bluefins. First, as mentioned earlier, it burns way too much fuel. Second, you’re not likely to find success ­until you know there are fish in the area.

Reserve speed-trolling until you see fish, such as bluefins feeding at the surface in what Southern California anglers call foamers. These fast-moving schools, which usually attack schools of tiny bait such as anchovies, can be difficult to entice. If you can’t get them to bite surface baits or small metal jigs, break out the speed-trollers and work the area; this is when the technique can be most effective.

Sometimes fish might not be feeding at the surface, but you can see them on sonar—the telltale jagged marks of schools crossing under the boat on the display. If you cannot get them to bite live bait or heavy metal jigs, try speed-trolling around the area where you are marking fish. Last summer, this often ­resulted in multiple hookups. 

Hawaiian Roll

There’s a related technique that paid off for some bluefin speed-trollers last season, but it was not widely shared. West Coast marlin anglers call it the Hawaiian roll. If you see schools of bluefins in the area—be it foamers or sonar fish—and you’re not getting bit, point the boat downwind and pull back on the throttle to idle, allowing the plugs to sink deep. Then throttle up to trolling speed. As the plugs rocket up from the depths, they can trigger deep-dwelling bluefins to chase—like a cat pouncing on a fast-moving piece of yarn—and inhale the lure.

Whether you roll or troll, you need the speed to find success.

How Did It Start?

Fast-trolling goes contrary to everything West Coast anglers previously knew about Pacific bluefin tuna. Then someone discovered it and, as the saying goes, it was a game-changer. But who was the first?

No one knows for sure who or when, but one theory points to the panga fishing fleet based in Ensenada, Mexico, about 60 miles below the border. The hypothesis is that some pangero came upon the technique by accident. 

The story going around the Southern California sport-fishing community is that one panga fisherman was trolling a plug or two when he spotted a foamer (a school of bluefins feeding at the surface), according to veteran West Coast offshore angler Barry Brightenburg.

“It’s plausible that he just left the lures in the water while he accelerated for the foamer as fast as he could,” Brightenburg says. “Pangas don’t go that quick, but fast enough for speed-trolling, and he inadvertently hooked a bluefin tuna on the plug when he was just trying to get to the foamer.”

The pleasantly surprised pangero likely bragged about his experience to others, and word eventually spread northward, leading to one of the most effective techniques ever for bluefins—at least, that’s the theory.

The post Speed-Trolling Lipless Plugs for Bluefin Tuna appeared first on Salt Water Sportsman.

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Sharp anglers know there are limited ­periods each day when the largest shares of fish are caught. Finding these productive time slots—commonly referred to as windows—takes dedication. It’s not ­always easy, but it’s worth the investment because they can be real game-changers, increasing the total number and size of the fish you catch.

One of my most effective windows is what I call “running slack.” Running slack is the short time around the tide switch when tidal water moves in opposition to local current created by depth and structure. To visualize this, picture a spot where current is moving left to right on a dropping tide. When the tide bottoms out, switches and begins to rise, ­many anglers assume the current will also switch immediately and move in the opposite direction—right to left in this case. But in most spots, that change in current direction will lag and continue to move in the same direction it did prior to the tide switch for a short period—in this case, left to right. This interval of tide against current—running slack—is a vulnerable time for bait, which draws in predators. It can be the most productive period of the ­entire day or night.

Making Moves During the Tide Switch

To understand why the running-slack window is so productive, you must accept that the period around the tide change puts prey at risk. As the tide switch approaches, there is first a drop in current speed and then a change in direction. Bait typically orients to structure in relation to current to secure the best feeding opportunities and shelter, preventing it from being detected and eaten. When current disappears or switches direction, it forces bait to move to a new location or pushes it out of hiding. Whether the relocation is small (from one crevice to another) or large (swimming from an offshore rip to a back bay), the movement attracts attention and makes bait easier to attack. Also, bait can’t predict current change like humans; it can only react to it. Often, bait is caught unaware before the move, and predators will take advantage of this.

Predators also move around during the tide switch. Some gamefish abandon one piece of structure in preference for ­another that offers better feeding opportunities. While they swim from one spot to another, they are susceptible to our casts (where we can intercept their pathways). Others move into or out of backwater areas during the switch or come in tight to shore. Further, many trophy-size fish time their feeding to coincide with the switch, when opportunities for an easy meal are high, moving quickly from one spot to the next looking for prey. They then turn off again for long periods, making them exceedingly hard to catch. If you don’t get them to feed during the switch, you might have to wait a full tide cycle for the next window.

The Running-Slack Feeding Advantage

Tide change is a great time to fish in ­general, but the smaller running-slack window offers more advantages. Because tide is moving against local current during running slack, there are many colliding currents that create chaos. Bait on the move—with the current or transitioning from one spot to the next—is susceptible to being pulled into these ­intersections, becoming trapped and being ambushed. And it’s not just weak or injured prey; the strongest and wariest bait can get trapped because it can’t move forward against the current in one direction, nor can it turn and flee against the ­opposite direction. Plus, even if it can ­escape, it’s often forced into eddies or along seams, which makes it extremely susceptible to predators.

But colliding currents can happen in a limited area, and they aren’t my favorite reason to target the running-slack window. Away from the intersection, the speed of the current is much slower than during the rest of the tide (when ocean tide and local current move together) while simultaneously not ­totally stagnant. This means current is still drawing food toward predators lying in wait, but they don’t have to work hard to hold their position. In essence, during ­running slack, gamefish have Goldilocks conditions: enough current to give them an ­advantage, but not so much that they have to expend a lot of calories using it. This can be true anywhere, but I find it most common where there are strong ­local ­currents: inlets, around bridges, ­tidal ­rivers, estuaries channels, etc. 

Finding Your Running-Slack Window

To find a running-slack window, you must remember that changes in inshore current typically do not correspond perfectly with tide changes. Let’s use a ­hypothetical example to clarify. The tide chart for a buoy outside a small inlet says incoming tide begins at 1:30 p.m. While you might assume incoming current inside the inlet also begins at 1:30 because the incoming tide will push water into the inlet, that’s probably not the case. Instead, you might need to wait until 3 p.m. before the current exiting the backwater completely turns around, overpowered by the incoming tide.

But that isn’t the end of it. You also need to factor in how long the slack tide is, the period around the switch with no tidal movement. Remember, running slack occurs when tidal current and local current are in opposition, not while there is no tidal movement at all. In some spots, slack tide can last for 30 seconds, while it might last for more than 30 minutes in others. Using our same example, although the chart states the tide change is 1:30, the tidal current might not get moving until 2. The period between 1:30 and 2 is slack tide. Now, assume again you’ve observed that the local current in the inlet flips from outgoing to incoming at 3. In this case, the running-slack window would occur between 2 and 3­—at the end of the slack tide, but before the current inside the inlet flips. As you can probably tell, nailing down the specific ­running-slack window requires a bit of scouting, observation and documentation, but it’ll be worth it in the end.

Up and Out

Because there are four tide changes ­every day, there are also four running-slack windows. Any or all of them can be highly productive. But if I was forced to choose just one, it would be the running-­slack window that occurs when the tide is rising, but the current is still moving from the backwater toward the ocean. Picture an inlet, mangrove channel, cut in a sandbar, or any other piece of structure where the current is still going out despite the tide having started to move in. Again, this can apply anywhere, but I find it to be particularly reliable when targeting water moving through an inlet, a river or estuary channels. I believe this is for three reasons.

First, an outgoing current is often most productive overall when targeting inlets or outflows, even during peak current flows and outside running slack. Second, the backwater during this period is as close to empty as possible, meaning bait concentrates in the channels and toward the outlet. Finally, the incoming tide gives predators more confidence to move into the shallows because they know the water is at their backs. This results in prey accumulating in a compact area where predators have a water-movement advantage, and they are less fussy and more aggressive—an angler’s dream.

This window (which I nicknamed “up and out”) only occurs twice in a 24-hour period. 

The limited duration—perhaps lasting only minutes—further drives its productivity. Large experienced fish wait to feed until they have the highest likelihood of success. Because they know this opportunity is limited, they become highly ­aggressive and more willing to take artificials and flies they might otherwise ignore. In other words, they put on the feed bag and really go on the chew.

Running-Slack Presentation

There are many ways to handle running slack, and it’s important to feel out the conditions each trip. However, I generally utilize slow, subtle and quiet presentations. This is natural because gamefish are generally on the lookout for prey that is disoriented, injured or trying to sneak from one spot to the other; it’s all moving relatively quietly and slowly.

I am adamant that the most natural retrieve during running slack is with the current, not against it. While every species reacts differently to movement, vibration and visual cues, I encourage you to try a “dead drift” presentation. Essentially, I cast my lure up-current and simply stay in contact with it, keeping the slack out of the line. I add in a twitch ­every once in a while; otherwise, I let the lure slide by naturally.

Not all lures are capable of being used this way. Typically, you need a slow- or moderate-sinking lure without a lip. Soft plastics in particular are my favorite when rigged light, such as with a swimbait hook or a lightweight jig head. Even if you ­don’t dead-drift and instead retrieve across ­current, I find soft plastics the most productive class of lure overall during ­running slack. My preference is Lunker City Slug-Gos, but there are hundreds of options in every size and shape imaginable. It’s up to you to find which works best with your favorite species, spot and running-slack window. 

The post How to Time the Tide Switch When Fishing appeared first on Salt Water Sportsman.

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SoCal might be best known for phenomenal weather, longboards, and great music but I think fishing should top that list. San Diego is home to a diverse fishery both near- and offshore, with a wide variety of species calling the inshore wrecks, reefs, and kelp paddies home. Further out, you’ll encounter pelagic species such as swordfish, striped marlin, and many members of the tuna family.

I was invited to San Diego by our friends at Costa to sample the excellent fisheries and test out their latest offering, the King Tide. On the first day of our trip we hit the inshore grounds on one of SoCal’s most famous head boats. We ventured further out on the second, taking 25-foot Parker some 50 miles out in pursuit of Pacific bluefin. The trip gave us the opportunity to test out Costa’s newest offering, which builds on the company’s 40 years of sunglass experience with a host of new features.

Inshore Bounty

San Diego is home to a thriving head boat culture, and the heart of that scene may just be located at the Point Loma Sportfishing center. This marina is home to well-stocked tackle shops, tackle rentals for visiting anglers, and over a dozen head and charter boats. Referred to locally as “sporties,” these boats take fares out on half-day, full-day, and long-range trips that can be at sea for a week or more. A devoted group of anglers take advantage of this fleet, and the fertile waters they frequent.

The Daily Double is one of the oldest boats in the San Diego fleet, built 65 feet long with a 20-foot beam to comfortably fish the wrecks, reefs, and kelp paddies off the SoCal coast. At the helm was Capt. Fred Huber, who has been plying the area waters for decades. On the Costa trip, Huber took us to a few inshore pieces before hitting a productive patch of kelp on the way in. Rockfish, calico bass, sand bass, and sculpins would be our targets for the day, and they proved to be abundant.

Fishing strategy was of the “keep it simple” variety, utilizing three-way rigs baited with live sardines or anchovies, as both were available at the local bait pens. Once in place, the boat dropped the hook to keep us in position over the most productive stretches of structure. The mates set out hurling handfuls of bait overboard, which would kick start the action. After a few minutes of chumming, the waters came alive. Rods bent as calicos and sand bass aplenty came up to the rails, though almost all were released as we had other dinner plans. Fishing was so hot at points that bait was swapped for jigs and still the rods stayed tight.

Beyond the excellent fishing, SoCal’s sport boats typically offer high-quality cuisine. As we hung out in the parking lot waiting for the boat to depart, a gentleman came up to me show me pictures of both the yellowtail he caught on a recent trip, but also the dinners he was served while underway. The breakfast burrito I ate aboard the Daily Double was as good as I’ve ever had anywhere, and the burger I had for lunch rivals anything you’ll find in a top-tier diner around here. It’s said that you can tell how long a mate has worked on the sporties by the pounds they have packed on. Be sure to bring your appetite.

Another unique aspect of fishing out of San Diego are the military vessels you’ll encounter while going to and from port. Naval Base San Diego serves as the homeport to much of the Pacific fleet, and is the second largest surface ship base of the United States Navy housing over 50 vessels at any given time. During my last trip to San Diego several years ago, we saw the USS Ronald Reagan, a Nimitz-class nuclear-powered aircraft carrier returning to base. On this trip, we passed an Ohio-class nuclear submarine heading out to parts unknown. Though the Daily Double is fairly large, it shrinks when passing a vessel of that size.

Kite Fishing for Bluefin

There’s more than a little debate surrounding the origins of kite fishing, with a few regions declaring the technique as their own. Whether or not it originated in SoCal, the captains around here have it pretty dialed in. On the second day of our Costa adventure, we took to the seas in one of the boats in the Pinnacle Sportfishing fleet for some epic kite action, West Coast style.

The Parker we fished off was piloted by Capt. Cameron Bingham. If there ever was someone that figured out what they should do with their life, it’s Bingham, and that purpose is catching big bluefins. His enthusiasm was infectious, and kept everyone stoked the entire steam out to the fishing grounds. Two hours clicked away in the blink of an eye listening to Bingham’s stories, his soft SoCal inflection sometimes jumping octaves with pure excitement about past bites.

The value of kites, Bingham explained, was their ability to present baits quietly behind the boats. The baits could be kept 200 yards or greater away from the vessel, limiting exposure to the fish-spooking outline. And suspending them from above meant that the terminal tackle was all hidden from the supersized eyeballs of the bluefin, helping ease their minds about the easy meal being served up.

As soon as we hit the tuna grounds, Bingham set to work rigging up a pair of flying fish to dangle below the kite. Having an extra bait at the ready would ensure we could get back in the action quickly if we got bit and there were other tuna around. Winds that day were under 10 knots, which made for flat seas but less than ideal kite fishing conditions. Bingham said that winds between 10 to 20 knots made keeping the baits aloft easy, but there were workarounds.

Stashed in the cabin were a brace of helium tanks that were used to inflate balloons that would be affixed to the kite; one to the cross arms and another further down the line. Aided by the two helium-filled balloons, the kite would have no trouble keeping the flying fish on the water’s surface. A line attached to a Penn International 50 Wide was run through a snap swivel on the kite’s line, affixed to the flying fish, and ferried out behind the boat.

Once we were in a likely spot with the kite deployed, Bingham climbed up to the upper station and scanned the water with a big pair of stabilized binoculars looking for signs of life. Once he found some surface-feeding tuna, known as a “foamer” in Left Coast vernacular, he hit the throttles and we made our way over at 10-knots, using the kite’s scope to present baits well away from the din of the motors.

Once the bait was in place over a feeding school, Bingham yarded on the line to add even more life to the hovering fish. It proved too much for a healthy bluefin of about 160 pounds to take, and it smashed the bait with a reckless abandon. In that moment, I knew what Bingham was talking about on the ride out. It was all but impossible to not high five the other anglers on board as the rod doubled. About 15 minutes later, we had deep color. Some final theatrics took place at the rail and the gaff found its way home.

We were able to repeat this scenario with another tuna, a 150-pound specimen, later in the trip. The take may have been even more impressive, as the fish made several swipes before finding the hook. Anticipation was high as the flying fish hung in shreds below the kite, but the tuna eventually engulfed it and the fight was on.

After returning to port, our bluefin were taken to a processor for the trip home. Fast and Easy Mobile Fish Processing made quick work of our bounty, working out of the back of a box truck. We loaded coolers for our plane ride home the next morning, and enjoyed some sushi in the hotel before calling it a day. The whole thing had a very SoCal feel about it.

Tuna fishing is always fun, but adding a kite in takes it to the next level. If you ever get an invite, take it. Especially if it comes from somewhere around Point Loma.

Californication

Costa choose Southern California to introduce the new King Tide sunglasses because they were partly influenced by area’s culture. Most of Costa’s performance sunglasses feature what is known as an 8-base curve, which tightly hugs the face to keep stray light out. But Cali is the home of flat bills and fashion-forward eyewear. Costa wanted to develop a pair of sunglasses that would live up to their 40 years of heritage as while fitting in with the cool kids that call SoCal home.

To give them a look that would be appreciated by the fashionistas among us while still delivering the on-water performance that makes them so popular with anglers, Costa developed removable side shields. This allows Costa to produce the King Tides in both the familiar 8-base curve as well as a flatter 6-base curve as you might find in a pair of Wayfarers or other sunglasses designed for looks instead of performance. The removable side shields block light from sneaking in from the peripherals even on the flat frames, preventing squinting and letting you spot fish even on the brightest days.

The full coverage afforded by the side shields also helps block wind, an important consideration with the rise of the fast offshore center console. Duane Diego, proprietor of Pinnacle Sportfishing and Costa ambassador says the King Tides help make long runs more comfortable. I certainly noticed the wind-blocking properties while out in the water.

And, you can easily take the side shields off and stuff them in the case when not in use. Though I don’t care much about fashion, I find myself swapping the Reeftons or Blackfins I typically wear on the water for a pair of Santiagos or other lifestyle frames once I get back to my truck. With the King Tide, you can just remove the sides if you decide you want less coverage. And the tops of the glasses are rubberized, which will keep them from sliding off the console when you throttle down.

Another notable feature on the King Tides is the shark-inspired sweat channels built into the temples. These innovative grooves serve to funnel sweat from around your eyes down to the end of the stems, exiting the bottom through a small notch. To perfect this technology, Costa’s engineers developed “Sweaty Eddy,” an artificial head that secretes sweat like a linebacker at an NFL training camp in south Florida in the middle of July. This allowed them to see how the new sweat-management technologies worked in real-time, allowing them to fine-tune the system and all but eliminate fogging.

On Friday, July 7 the King Tide 6 and King Tide 8 will be available in black frames with 580G blue mirror lenses at select retailers. Suggested retail pricing starts at $329. By September 15, 2023 you can expect to find them on costasunglasses.com and their retail partners worldwide.

If you want a piece of history, you can grab one of the limited-edition King Tide 6 and King Tide 8 models starting on Tuesday July 11. These models feature a black gold frame and never before seen 580G gold lenses. Costa is only releasing 40 of the 6 and the 8, so act fast if you want to get your hands on a pair.

The post San Diego: Inshore and Off appeared first on Salt Water Sportsman.

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Fly anglers in the Northeast are limited in their options once summer sets in. The striped bass that we hold so dear tend to vacate the shallows once water temperatures reach 72 degrees Fahrenheit or so. If anglers are lucky, they will have weakfish to pass the warmer days with, but they typically can’t be relied on. And bluefish are unsung heroes, salvaging many a tide with their aggressive nature. But there’s one target many fly rodders overlook: summer flounder.

Summer flounder, better known as fluke, can be found in the skinny water all summer long. These dorsally-compressed ambush predators are actually quite voracious, lying in wait in the slightest of depressions to pounce on anything resembling food. I’ve even caught them in the surf as my kid was jumping waves a few feet away.

Many fly anglers have caught fluke by chance, but few actively pursue them. This is a mistake, as they provide excellent sport through the dog days of summer. Boating, wading, and kayak anglers can all get in on the action. Here’s what you need to know to catch them on the long rod.

Tackle Selection

If you already fly fish the salt, odds are pretty good that you have the right fly rod and reel to target fluke. Though they are surprisingly strong swimmers, just about any fly rod 6-weight and up will have enough backbone to pull them off the bottom. Rod selection is more about handling the heavy lines potentially needed to reach fluke.

To catch fluke, you’ll need to get your fly within a foot or two of the bottom. This can be accomplished with floating or intermediate lines in water 3 feet or less if current is light. Slightly deeper, and you’ll want a sink-tip. When water hits 6 feet or greater, full sink lines come into play. Use as heavy a line as needed to stay on the bottom; the weight will increase as current and depth increases. I have used lines with a sink rate as fast as 7 seconds per inch before, though this typically isn’t needed.

Heavy lines are best used with a heavy rod, so consider an 8-weight the minimum if you’re fishing in water 6 feet or deeper. Pair this with a few spare spools loaded with intermediate, sink-tip, and full-sinking line with a sink rate of anywhere from 4 to 6 inches per second to cover all the bases. But if you are going to probe water as deep as 15 feet, you’ll need the heaviest full-sinker that a 10-weight can handle.

You don’t need a beefy drag to stop a fluke, so just about any reel will do. I have a few Pflueger Medalists loaded with heavy lines to dredge bottom, and those ancient drag systems do just fine. But you’re probably better served with any of the purpose-built saltwater models on the market these days; the sealed-drags stand up to a marine environment better.

I’ll probably offend some tackle manufacturers with this one, but I often don’t bother with tapered leaders. I usually just run a straight trace of 10 to 20-pound fluorocarbon off my line; the powerful casts turn the flies over just fine and you don’t need a dry fly-worthy presentation in these scenarios. Plus, the flat line lets you cut back length to compensate for water depth and the sink rate of your fly line without a series of knots.

Fly Selection

You can never go wrong by selecting flies that match the dominant forage species, but I’ve found it’s more important to ensure the fly was in the strike zone. Fluke love sand eels, rain bait, and the like, so flies like Clouser Minnows or Jiggies are usually effective. Squid are another favorite, and I’ve had plenty of luck throwing squid patterns even when they aren’t around. When fluke on larger baits, such as juvenile bunker, patterns such as Deceivers or Cowen’s Magnum Baitfish work well.

Finding Fluke on the Fly

Fluke occupy a wide variety of habitats, from sandy flats to muddy creeks and everything in between. They lie undetected on the down tide side of the smallest of humps, easily holding in the resultant current break and gobbling up any morsel unfortunate enough to be swept over head. Here’s the habitats to look for, and how to fish them.

Though you might not have thought about them this way, fluke often stack up in many of the same places that you would find striped bass or bluefish, and employ a lot of the same feeding strategies. In a marsh or estuary system, fluke often orient themselves with the mouths of narrow creeks or drains on a dropping tide and help themselves to the buffet floating above. To capitalize in these scenarios, cast up into the creek and let the tide bounce your fly back toward you. Retrieve in short strips, keeping the fly just off the bottom.

Wider tidal creeks and rivers are great places to hunt for fly rod fluke. You’ll also want to target these on the outgoing tide if possible; but if the water is deep enough, sometimes fluke will ride the current in. Use the current to your advantage no matter which way it is flowing, casting up current and letting the flow work your fly back past you. Look for lips and depressions and concentrate on those.

Shallow flats are tailor-made for fly rodders. While you’re best suited looking for steep gradients when fishing deeper waters, you can focus on much subtler depth changes on skinny bars and flats. Because they are so thin, fluke can hide in the tiniest depressions—stuff too small to be noted on a depth finder and difficult to see by eye even in crystal clear waters. Flats such as these won’t have water rapidly sweeping over them except at the very peak tide stages, so fluke won’t be concentrated as they would be near a pinch point like a creek mouth. Instead, they will likely be spread out over the relatively featureless sand or mud bottom and you’ll have to do some casting to connect. Toss your fly out ahead of you in a fan pattern, hopping it back to you slowly.

Beachfronts are another great place to look for fluke. Here, they will often hold in the trough, just at the water’s edge. Offshore bars hold fluke both alongside and on top, so work these thoroughly. Changes of depth of a foot are a big deal on sand beaches, and you can pull a couple of fish off of the smallest depression. Thoroughly work any cuts you find. Cover as much ground as possible by walking, casting in a fan motion around you as you go.

Jetties are a great place to encounter all sorts of gamefish. For fluke, target the groins where the rocks meet the sand. You’re better off standing on the beach and casting toward the jetty, as the sharp rocks can do a number on lines if you’re not careful. And note that you’ll probably need fairly heavy line, as the currents here can be stiff.

You can fish deeper water for fluke with a fly rod, but past a certain depth you’re just attempting to dredge bottom with a sinking line. A better approach is to look for shallow flats adjacent to deeper water, where fluke will pop up for a quick bite. One of my favorite spots is a 6-foot deep flat just off the edge of a much deeper channel. I find fish here on just about every stage of the tide, but they seem to be most active at slack.

Boat Handling

When fly fishing, you can’t just add lead to stay on bottom like you would with conventional tackle. You must do your best to keep drifts under 1 knot or the current will force the thicker fly line upward. The days when wind and tide go against each other, typically a tough scenario, are a boon to fly fishers. On days your boat is moving too fast, use a drift sock, or even better, a trolling motor, to keep speeds down.

To ensure your fly makes it to the strike zone, cast up current from the direction of your drift, giving the line plenty of time to settle before you reach what you expect to be productive ground. Depending on the speed of your drift, you might not need to actively retrieving the line. Instead, you will just move the rod tip to impart some action to the fly.

You often can’t rely on your electronics to find the subtle pieces of structure that you’ll be targeting, so you’ll want to note the most productive stretches. Mark waypoints or take land ranges so you can repeat these drifts later. You’ll probably need to reposition the boat frequently to keep action consistent.

Get Out There

If you already fly fish the salt, you probably have everything you need to chase fluke with the long wand. So pursue a familiar species in a new way this summer, and add some more fun to your inshore adventures. Most of the fluke you’ll encounter will be shorts, but the possibility for keepers—and trophies—exists.

Odds are good a fly rodder will never encounter a specimen as large as the 22-pound, 7-ounce summer flounder caught by Captain Charles Nappi off the coast of Montauk in 1975 that stands as the IGFA All Tackle World record. But the 12-pound tippet fly tackle record is a much more reasonable 8 pounds, 4 ounces, taken off Cape May in 2008 by Chris Goldmark.

I caught a fluke of similar dimensions when I was 18, probing a creek mouth with a Clouser minnow on the dropping tide. Record books weren’t on my mind at the time, but I’ve been kicking myself for not having it officially weighed ever since.

The post Fly Fishing for Fluke appeared first on Salt Water Sportsman.

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It was May, a prime time for bottomfishing throughout the Bahamas. But a stiff 20-knot easterly breeze destroyed our chance to make shallow-to-deep drifts off West End. Or did it? To compensate, we switched up our game plan, opting to rig a pair of fast-current bottom rigs. Anyone who experiences fast current when bottomfishing should consider this option. This is not a Bahamas-only rig.

The setup extends a bait’s soak time in a fast current, be it at anchor or while drifting. As basic as it may appear, there are crucial subtleties involved in its rigging and fishing, ones which make the difference between catching fish or spewing excuses back at the dock.

The Components 

Our drift windows spanned from 45 feet of water to just shy of 200 feet. If we scored, we’d duplicate the same drift by following the trail feature on my electronics. We fished two bottom rods, one off the bow and one off the stern. I maneuvered the boat sideways for our drifts to prevent tangles. 

The fast-current bottom rig requires a three-way swivel. One eye accepts the fishing line, the center eye accepts the leader, and the lower eye accepts the sinker line. Sinker options include bank sinkers and drop-shot weights. 

If you don’t have a three-way, you can accomplish the same rig by adding a free-­sliding barrel swivel on the main fishing line. (This barrel swivel is what you’ll tie your leader to.) Then thread on a spacer bead or a tiny sinker before terminating the main line with a second swivel. The bead acts as a buffer between the two swivels. We used 250-pound-test barrel swivels. Swivels are crucial because they reduce line twist and produce better bait presentations, whether with live bait, strips or chunks. 

Bottom weights of up to 3 pounds work well for extreme drifts and fast currents. We got the job done on this trip with 1- and 2-pounders. The line attaching the terminal swivel to the weight was about 3 feet in length, with a Bimini twist loop at its end large enough to enable quick sinker changes. The breaking strength of the sinker line was lighter than the main fishing line. When the weight snagged bottom, the lighter line would break so we only lost the sinker.

The Tackle

Given the heavy sinkers necessary to hold bottom, plus muscling up fish from the reefs—and often away from sharks—we used Penn Torque reels spooled with 50-pound braid. We paired the reels with stand-up rods rated for 80- to 130-pound lines, which easily handled the weights. The lines attaching our sinkers were 30-pound-test. This fishing style wasn’t ­especially sporting on this day, but it beat going back to the dock empty-handed. 

Ultra-long leaders pair best with this rig; they’ll furl about in the current 30 to 50 feet beyond the weights and attract a wide variety of bottomfish. This fell right in place for us, given the mutton snapper were schooling. Typical mutton snapper leaders are ­extremely long. When not feeding aggressively, muttons peck at a bait, losing interest at the slightest resistance. Long leaders provide a lot of slack, so muttons don’t sense anything unnatural. An inline circle hook ensures a ­solid set as an angler winds tight to the fish. Our hook leaders were 40-pound fluorocarbon, capped with inline VMC Tournament circle hooks in sizes 4/0 to 6/0.

The Subtleties 

As mentioned earlier, swivels are vital, especially on the leader carrying the hook and bait. Deployment is also critical. The weight’s position at the bottom of the rig allows for a quick descent. However, if the weight races down too quickly, the long leader will likely foul on the fishing line. Using your thumb on the spool (or a light drag), free-spool the rig at half-speed, briefly pausing every 20 to 30 feet; this keeps the leader lying with the current and away from the weight. 

Maintain the feel of the sinker bouncing on the bottom. When that feel is lost, free-spool to reacquire bottom. I’ll often leave the reel in free-spool with minimal thumb pressure to keep the weight on bottom for as long as possible, especially if there’s activity. Eventually, the rig scopes out, reducing your feel and angling efficiency. After about 100 to 150 feet out, reel up and drop again. The straighter the line angle to the weight, the more effectively you’ll catch fish.

The bottom relief we covered wasn’t overly aggressive. Once our weights hit bottom, we’d occasionally help them over the reef by gently lifting the rod a foot or so. Higher profile structures require more finesse to avoid snags.

Use the same tactics at anchor. Keep the rig as straight up and down as possible, yet right on or very close to bottom. Once it planes out a bit, bring it in, check the bait, and redeploy it. It’s a game of ­constant fine-tuning.

Read Next: When Should Anglers Vent or Descend Bottom Fish?

The Hook-Sets 

A full take will aggressively pull the rod tip down. Wind rapidly until the fish runs off the line, then pump and wind to keep it off-balance and coming your way, hopefully ahead of any sharks.

Converting subtle taps takes a bit more finesse. When I felt a mutton pecking at my bait, I’d free-spool to keep the bait in front of the fish. With braided line, it’s easy to tell subtle taps from actual takes. On this particular day, a few taps usually preceded a take, which pulled off line while in free-spool. I’d quickly engage the drag, wind tight, and boat a mutton snapper.

Give this bottom rig an honest chance. There are ways to control drift speed, such as with a sea anchor or using the boat’s power to stem the current. However, when it comes to simplicity, the fast-current bottom rig is hard to beat. Learn the tricks of this tactic and you’ll be the envy at the dock, even when the wind is blowing 20 knots and the current is raging. Because fishing action is much more exciting than sitting by the pool. 

A Lead Alternative

As an alternative to lead weights, SIS (Stainless Innovation Services) fabricates 316-grade stainless-steel sinkers for this style of fishing, as well as for deep-dropping and daytime swordfishing. Touted as an environmentally friendly alternative to lead, these SIS Weights also aren’t prone to mushrooming—that is, flattening or disfiguring after repeated drops on hard bottom. Company President Brian Pilarski says they do custom orders and have fabricated sinkers from 5 ounces to 80 pounds. For more information, find SIS Weights on Instagram.

The post How to Fish Fast-Current Bottom Rigs appeared first on Salt Water Sportsman.

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The life history of most game fishes is pretty amazing. Although some species may grow to more than 1,000 pounds, all begin life as one of millions of eggs the size of a small grain of sand floating about an ocean full of tiny predators, following a full-moon spawning session. Of those millions, thousands may be fertilized, but of those thousands fewer than 100 will survive past the larval stage. 

They feed on tiny plankton, but are also fed upon by slightly larger planktonic predators. It is indeed a jungle out there in the open ocean. Growth, for the few that live, is rapid. Most larval forms of game and food fishes bear little or no resemblance initially to adults, often very different in shape and color, recognizable only to experts. They may resemble elaborate insects as much as fish.

As they grow into small juveniles, often characterized by oversized eyes, the babies begin to gradually take on more of the characteristics of larger, older fish. Few anglers ever get the chance for a close-up and personal look at game fish not much longer than a cherry tomato, so in this ongoing gallery of “microscopic monsters,” we’ll offer a rare look at a mini version of species most of us see as only adult fish.

This moray eel larva (top image) was photographed by Steven Kovacs during an open-ocean blackwater drift in the Philippines. (The little silvery “bug” is a marine isopod, a hitchhiker.) Identifying the species is a bit problematic, with 200 or so species of moray eel in the world and quite a few of those found in Philippine waters. In fact, by its looks, this larva could almost be a tarpon as well as a moray. Here’s how that works.

Morays are broadcast spawners. When the infinitesimal fraction of eggs spewed into the ocean are successfully fertilized, like many species, they float pelagically about the ocean for months as larvae. But these are unlike most fishes’ larvae; when new to the world, morays take the form known as a leptocephalus. You’re right: They look nothing like you’d expect a fish to resemble. Surprisingly, some other fishes also have very similar leptocephalus larval forms, notably tarpon and bonefishes.

These larvae take the form of long, otherworldly transparent ribbons, flattened side to side, with a ridiculously tiny head. (The length of the leptocephalus in the photo is hard to appreciate, with it coiled rather tightly.) A clear glucosamine gel compound fills their clear bodies; this gel transforms into adult tissue during metamorphosis. See how these remarkable moray leptocephali swim here.

Clearly, these larvae bear almost no resemblance to adult moray eels.

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