'April Fool's Day - For The Sharks, That Is'

We've been busier than normal lately and getting out in advance to catch bait has been difficult enough to be damn near impossible. But thanks to Jeff, we had some extra, in addition to the mullet and jacks we caught in the back yard this past week. Then, later in the day things got interesting when Captain Jim called in the morning to ask if we might want to stop by Cook's Sportland and pick up some fresh king and spanish mackerel heads he had secured. It was April 1st so I was glad this wasn't a joke. He was meeting us on the sand around sunset, but we were stopping by there on the way to pick up Big Bertha, his beloved 12/0. So what's a little fresh meat amongst friends while we're at it? I sensed the excitement in Jim's voice when he said he was ready to harness up tonight and get into a little tug-of-war. It was time to play.

When we got to Cook's around 3:00, Jim opened a black garbage bag and proudly displayed one of the most beautiful sights any guy going shark fishing could possibly imagine. We peered into the black hefty and immediately began salivating at the sight of about 20 pounds of huge mackerel heads attached to entire filleted carcasses. The kings were understandably large, but the spanish must've been just smart enough to get caught with heads that big. This time of year brings them in close, which meant we would be matching the hatch. With this in mind, the club was happier than a bunch of roosters in a 3-story henhouse.

Getting ready to get ready
Stand by to stand by...
Finally, dinner is served.
Perfect conditions
Setting the trap
Australian ... for shark bait
Our first drops on 'Large Marge' and 'Long Tall Sally' (the Penn 12 and 9's) were completed by right around sunset. As soon as my kayak scraped the sand on the return trip, I saw Jim skipping down the dunes with a smile the size of Rosie O' Donnell on his face. He proceeded to pick the biggest and baddest and juiciest king head out of the cooler to which he applied his rigging magic. Shortly thereafter, he handed it off to me for a quick ride to the outside of the second bar, also known as shark alley in this location.

It was approximately 8:20 on the last of the outgoing tide when Big Bertha wakes up and starts screaming. It's a committed pick up and run. Jim quickly manned his station, gently lifted the 12/0 from the spike and slowly applied drag before crossing this fish's eyes. By now, we've got him harnessed up and the fish is running hard. Then, slack! Jim instinctively gobbles it up at a rapid pace before coming tight again. Then the fish peels more line against nearly maximum drag. It's now apparent this fish is the kind of monster we're hunting. We're always in it for the 120"+ factor so after 6 sandbars the past several trips, it was a welcome notion. About 2 minutes into the battle, and nearly locked down on the Penn, Jim learns a new sport as he is literally dragged for several feet -- flat footed over the sand -- his beach skiing career is born. The camp had taken on a superbowl-like atmosphere by this time. But then, as quickly as the adrenaline picked up, utter disappointment dropped on us like a big wet blanket as the line gave way. I've never heard the term, 'SON-OF-A-BITCH!' sung in such perfect harmony. Jim knew immediately the rig was gone and there was nothing but mono. Closer inspection proved this to be sad, but true. Our best guess is the fish was able to get into the main line on his brief turn to the beach. Then, as it headed back west, the dreaded combination of tail and mono must have taken place. We saved that section of line which clearly shows the tell-tale signs of abrasion. This put the score at Jim 0 and Mystery Meat 1. Best guess is a BIG bull or possibly a hammerhead had paid us a visit. As disappointed as we were, the night was taking on momentum and expectations were elevated. Feeling and seeing a big fish pull like that only makes you want more.

Jim wasn't done yet and it didn't take long for him to get another shot. This fish, after a solid pickup on Large Marge, ran almost entirely toward the beach at around 9:15. Jim was only able to get tight 2 or 3 times. On the last chance, we were spotting leader in the wade gut and were ready for whatever it was on the other end. Just as Brooks was about to light it up, the line just sort of popped and then went slack. There were incriminating punctures in the bait with a nice radius. We came to the conclusion it was no boating accident and it wasn't 'Jack The Ripper'! This was a shark, Chief Brody! It's possible the damn thing just mouthed the bait all the way in without getting snagged and spit it when belly met bottom.

After re-rigging another head and dropping it back in the hot zone, we barely had time to regroup when a 2nd hookup on Bertha goes to Brooks.
After a valiant, but futile fight on Jim's 12/0, another healthy sandbar falls at Brooks' feet.
Teamwork
Another hookup through the cheek. No worse for the wear.
Brooks nearly gets us outta' the sixes for the year with this beauty rolling in at a total length of 6' 8" resulting in an estimated weight of 95 lbs.
Wanna dance?
Nevermind. It's time to go.
That way
What a beautiful sight
Tom Johnson (second from right)
Gary Anderson (far left)

Tom met us early in the day and Gary paid a visit later in the evening. Always nice to have some local celebrities who are also fellow anglers and outdoor writers stop by. Great meeting you guys. Let's tighten a line again soon.

A late second helping, a hot-swap and tasty snack to sweeten the offer. With these kinds of drops, who needs coffee?
12:55am with an incoming tide finds Dave hooked up to what feels like another stout fish.
And it is...
Another pretty girl
And another perfect hookset in the corner of the mouth.
Survey says ... 7' .5". We're finally outta' the sixes for 2006.
Love 'em & leave 'em. You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here. Now we were running out of bait so it was decided a leg would have to go. I drew the short straw.
Another healthy female sandbar coming in at just over 7 feet, earning her AND Dave an estimated weight of 118 lbs.
Congratulations, Dave. You and Brooks had yourselves a nice little double date while Jim and I got stood up.
More results of some great teamwork
That's a money shot. Dave's already got him a laminated copy in his wallet, a copy on his desk, hanging from the rearview mirror in his car, one on his business card. It's probably tattooed somewhere by now.
Check the eye and head to Dave's right.
Man, they look as good going as they do coming.
Giving the spread just a few more minutes at the end of an 18-hour shift. It dropped to the mid 50's and was extremely damp after about 3am so the sun was more than welcome.
Much earlier, around 12:30am Brooks had a solid, but short run on his 9/0 that Jim said wasn't a shark, but probably a smacker. He was on the right track. This bluefish (lower right) went after one of the king heads and got a surprise. Just think what kind of shark bait that baby was while it was trying to get free.
Show me the way to go home ... I'm tired and I wanna go to bed ... I had a little drink about an hour ago. And it went straight to my head ...
Every dog has his days ... and his nights
Before signing off, a little side note. Each expedition teaches us something new. This one was no different and I'd like to share a thought, an observation and a lesson here. This is a highly specialized angling style that relies heavily on the team concept, and I'm fortunate to be surrounded with some of the best of the best. One important thing we all have in common is a respect for the many things that can and sometimes do go wrong. When sharks are the targeted species, some of these things can cause a trip to go from magic to tragic in about the time it takes to blink an eye.

Normally, we don't have much in the way of company, which is part of the attraction for us, but every now and then, we get some. I'll be the first to say, it's always nice to have witnesses to a decent catch, and even better when they're fellow shark fisherman. On this night, we were joined by some anglers that specialize in targeting sharks from the local pier. These guys are real good at what they do so, as always, we wanted to be at our best. When the group walked into our camp, Brooks was working his fish and the rest of the team and I were setting up for the pit stop. As should be expected, the excitement level was running high.

Now, we all know how fast things can move once a hot fish is leadered, but we have a specific protocol and system we've worked hard to perfect over the years that is specifically designed to ensure our safety and the vitality of any fish we intend to release. In this instance, somewhere between leadering Brooks' fish and going into our hook removal and tagging phase, we lost our ability to communicate as a team amongst all the talk, shouting, movement, and excitement of the crowd. Subsequently our safety, that of the onlookers and the treatment of the fish was becoming jeopardized; not to mention, the important element of documenting our catch and release. At one point, as my attention was taken away from the task at hand by the unexpected commotion, I turned back toward the fish with bolt cutters for this particular removal, and was very unpleasantly surprised to find someone other than me was working the hook, with, of all things, a piece of rope. Other than my concern and immediate feelings about the unknown person moving into my position to remove the hook from our fish, the technique displayed (a familiar one also used when you hook a finger or other body part) is not one we employ ... ever. Among many reasons is the delicate nature of the gill plates on these fish, which can be easily damaged when tugged or pulled. Contrary to popular belief, sharks are not indestructible animals. If sufficiently injured, they can appear to be very healthy when released, only to die later as a result of damage incurred during capture.

In the best interest of quickly regaining control, I took a deep breath, excused the individual, and got back to work. The more I thought about this scene later, though, the more it became important to address it here in hopes that others could learn from it. In the future, for everyone's sake, I'll make certain there's no question about what to do and not do as a spectator in our camp, including staying well out of the way...and quiet -- especially, when we're working with a fish. As the team leader, I take full responsibility for everything that happens out there, and like I said, it was a lesson learned. As quickly as everyone showed up, they were gone, and when it's all said and done, we appreciate the interest and support for what we're doing. I'm confident that a few of those present just got a little too excited in the heat of the moment and momentarily lost their sense of judgement. No harm, no fowl.

That said, we're definitely excited about the year so far. The team is good and warmed up on our last 8 sharks and we can't wait to see what comes to the surface next. Reports are coming in of 8' - 10' hammers and an unusual amount of large lemons and bulls. What is that? Can you hear it? Oh, that's the music to our ears! Stay tuned and always fish whenever and wherever you can.