Fishing America
North Carolina was the second stop for me on September 5th and the second time I fished in two states on the same day. After having a good morning fishing in South Carolina, I drove just across the line to Calabash, NC where I had booked an afternoon offshore charter with Ed Elliot.
With a deckhand also aboard Ed’s big 40-foot boat, we headed down the Calabash River crossing the Intracoastal Waterway and then down the Little River and into the Atlantic Ocean. I had 5 different fish listed as my targeted potential catches.
Spot number 1 was dead with nothing biting and combined with seasick medicine was a recipe for sleepiness, so I helped myself to the couch just inside the cabin. I said, “Wake me up if something happens.” After a one-hour nap on the Atlantic I got up ready for something to bite one of those baits dragging 100 feet behind the boat.
About 10 minutes later the deckhand said, “There is something on this line on the left.” Although I could see no evidence of it, I reeled it in and caught my first Spanish Mackerel. I thought, this fish has something wrong with it. This chrome looking shiny silvery fish with yellow spots and a tuna like tail did not pull or fight at all. He just slid in on his side.
So, I watched closely for the next one. I usually describe a fish bite as a strike or a hit, but this was like someone who was bashful knocking on the door when it made its faint bite. The second one was just as non-combative as the first. A true deadbeat.
With a moving boat it was hard to detect a bite from these mousy mouthed weaklings that seemed to have no courage to get sideways and try to fight for themselves after getting hooked. So, I took them for what they were and kept fishing.
After this second one I knew how to catch them anyway. At this point the mackerel were once bitten twice shy. I thought, no wonder great whites had them for easy prey. So, this drill of catching milksop minded mackerel on the move continued. I caught about 20 of them, all who surrendered without a fight.
They just came in limp, on their side and seemed happy to be caught and put in a boat box. I had never eaten any mackerel, so I thought well they are no sport, but I bet they are good to eat. With mackerel in the box, we headed out a few miles further into the Atlantic.
The water got rougher as time ticked by with the wind picking up. Hurricane Florence had an appointment with this part of the east coast and was just a few days away. Knowing this was coming made me thankful for the timing of my dates of the trip I was winding up.
Ed’s deckhand changed all the gear over while we headed into deeper water seeking a different species. We found it while trolling dragging big chunks of cut bait along with a spoon like reflector. I caught two blacktip sharks but had to throw them both back.
One was about 36 inches and the other at 48. They needed to measure 54” to keep. These things are edible and from what I have read the best of the sharks for eating. I have only eaten shark one time. It was simply labeled “shark” where I bought it in the fresh fish market of the store. It was pretty good.
What the mackerel lacked in fight the sharks made up for. Every shark I have caught anywhere fights hard and do not give up. These two were no exception. The biggest fought well enough to make my right shoulder sore and make the trip worthwhile.
After fishing this rough water of the Atlantic we called it a day after about 5 hours at sea. I introduced the mackerel to the GA and SC fish in my ice chest and headed to my hotel in the direction of Texas thankful to be leaving ahead of the arrival of Hurricane Florence.
When I got home and started cooking fish again, I tried the mackerel several ways and none of them turned out good. They sure were pretty before they were cleaned once again proving pretty is as pretty does.
Ed operates his business Lucky Strike Charters from the marina in Calabash, NC. He can be found online at www.fishingbooker.com