The fish covered here can be caught in other locations too. For example, black marlin are regularly targeted and landed off Australia. But when the conditions are right, the hot spots listed below can’t be beat, especially if you’re there at the right time with the proper presentations.

Best Place to Catch Tarpon

• Where: Gasparee Island, Tobago
• When: Fall
• How: Live baiting Spanish sardine or herring

Diehard tarpon fanatics need to add Trinidad to their travel itinerary. That’s because double-digit days are a routine occurrence for guests of the Monsta Tarpon Lodge on Gasparee Island. Located near the mouth of the prolific Orinoco River, anglers often release up to 40 large tarpon per trip, many 100 pounds or heavier. Stout spinning tackle with braided line and circle hooks is the ideal arsenal for these deepwater fish.

With an abundance of bait during the wet summer months, Spanish sardines or herring are the bait of choice. Tarpon are located by spotting rollers on the surface of the green, nutrient-rich water. The tarpon spawn in the deeper channels between islands and return to the rocks and remote shoreline to feed. Trips are scheduled around the prime windows, typically early mornings or late afternoons when feeding is more active. Rising tides are another favorable condition since the tarpon don’t have to swim against the hard outgoing currents. 

Best Place to Catch Trout and Redfish

• Where: Lower Laguna Madre, Texas
• When: Late winter and early spring
• How: Casting Bendback, Deceiver and EP Minnow flies

Sight-fishing enthusiasts need several conditions to successfully pursue their targets: clear water, light winds, bright sunshine and cooperative quarry. For those hunting trophy seatrout and redfish on light-tackle and fly, that describes the Lower Laguna Madre in South Texas perfectly. 

“Late winter and early spring are the best months for big trout on lures,” says Capt. Eric Glass, a long-time guide in the South Padre Island area. “But I prefer the summertime when the winds aren’t as strong and we have bright sun for better visibility. Any tide is good as long as it’s moving. Redfish are our bread and butter here on real shallow flats, 12 inches or less. Trout can be as shallow, but they prefer flats with deeper adjacent water. Soft plastics rigged on a ¹⁄₁₆-ounce jig head are the top lure choice. “Big trout on fly are our permit. They are very difficult to catch and one 28 inches or larger is a true prize.”

Glass starts by stalking reds, but if trout are around he’ll try to entice one into eating a weighted crab fly. Trout-specific flies include weedless baitfish patterns like Bendbacks, Deceivers and EP Minnows in chartreuse/white or olive/white on an 8-weight outfit with floating line and 12-pound fluorocarbon leader without a shock tippet.  

“It’s a challenge to talk a trout into eating a redfish fly,” he adds. “My client caught a 29-inch-plus fish this summer and it was one of the most memorable of the season. If we find both species in an area, I’ll put the reds on the back burner for an hour or so and try to catch a trout. But I’m scared to death of getting skunked so we typically pivot back to the reds,” he says with a laugh. 

Best Place to Catch Spearfish

• Where: Kona, Hawaii
• When: Springtime
• How: Trolling skirted bullet lures

Spearfish are one of the more difficult species to record for anglers trying to complete an IGFA Billfish Royal Slam. That rare accomplishment consists of tallying Atlantic and Pacific blue marlin and sailfish, white, black and striped marlin, swordfish and one of the three sub-species of spearfish over a lifetime. The best chance for scoring the latter are shortbill spearfish out of Kona, Hawaii. Known as Hebi in Hawaiian or chuckers among the locals, shortbill are only found in the Pacific and Indian Oceans. They are a consistent catch among the charter and private boats fishing the calm, lee side of Hawaii’s Big Island.  

Sleek, acrobatic and strong for their size, Kona’s spearfish can get up to 50 pounds but average 30 to 35. If you’re prepared to lose tackle to monster blue marlin or yellowfin tuna in the same vicinity, light conventional gear is the perfect match for spearfish. They are typically caught on heavier outfits, however, which subdues the sport and fighting spirit of the fish. 

Late winter through early summer are the peak times to target spearfish in the Aloha State. Skirted bullet lures with either jets or solid bodies in blue/white or pink to mimic flying fish and squid are the top offerings. 

Best Place to Catch Permit

• Where: Lower Florida Keys
• When: March
• How: Bucktail jig tipped with shrimp

Permit are one of the flats trilogy (with tarpon and bonefish) and the Lower Florida Keys are one of the top permit spots on the planet. Longtime Conch guide Capt. Steve Impallomeni targets these challenging targets from early February through March when water temperatures range from the mid- to high 70s after a front to the lower 80s. Moving water, the last two hours of the incoming and first of outgoing, are preferred. 

“I look for floaters off the flat edges at lower tides,” he says. “The reef lines with sea fans and ledges that hold crab and shrimp are good, too.” 

Tan, white or pink bonefish bucktail wiggle jigs tipped with a fresh piece of shrimp are an excellent offering for permit in shallow water. Small live blue crabs are deadly or Impallomeni will use the largest live shrimp he has if bait-stealers aren’t around. For fly-anglers he ties on a Gotcha in tan or pink or a Merkin crab if the water is deeper. 

Best Place to Catch Milkfish

• Where: Seychelles
• When: Year-round
• How: Flies with large, bushy profiles in green to match the forage algae

Adventuresome anglers looking to tussle with the Pacific equivalent of tarpon should pack their gear and jump on a plane to the Seychelles. Once there, Chanos Chanos or milkfish await those with patience and a 10-weight fly rod. Featuring a long, slender body with large forked tails and equally large eyes, milkfish have silvery sides and white bellies. These toothless omnivores can top 50 pounds and live up to 15 years.

Milkfish are easy to spot on the crystalline Seychelles flats. When feeding, they often tail like bonefish or swim in schools, creating wakes as they move. The heads and collagen-like lips can be spotted as they work the surface. Neap tides are preferred with more uniform water on the flats. New and full moon tides when invertebrates spawn are good also. 

With algae and associated tiny marine life their primary forage, milkfish are ideal targets for the long wand. Since they aren’t predatory, the fly must be nearly stationary on approach. The only initial reaction should be long, slow strips to eliminate slack. Once the line changes direction on a pick-up, a steady strip-strike will seal the deal. Strong, powerful runs and gravity-defying leaps mandate medium fly tackle to win a milkfish battle, which can be lengthy. 

Flies with large, bushy profiles in olive and green to match the forage algae fill the fly boxes of Seychelles anglers. Some patterns add pink or red highlights to simulate crustacean eggs or strands of crystal flash for other tiny marine life. Milkfish can be targeted year-round on the remote Seychelles flats. 

Best Place to Catch Striped Bass

• Where: New Jersey
• When: October
• How: Trolling live eels behind planer boards

Once a near unicorn catch, 50-pound-plus striped bass are now not quite as rare due to a harvest moratorium in New Jersey. Devotees looking to etch a half-century cow mark in the rod blank have a couple options for a release, though. “We now have the best big striper fishing that I’ve seen in years,” says veteran New York/New Jersey guide Capt. Frank Crescitelli. 

“The deadliest method for scoring a 50 is by trolling live eels behind planer boards,” Crescitelli says. His personal best so far is a 52-pounder, taken by that method. “Those big fish are mostly in deeper, open water up to 60 feet. There’s not a lot of structure along our shoreline, so by trolling you can cover more ground and work the bunker pods. It’s all about the bunker. Sixty-degree water is ideal and the big ones tend to stick together. Prevailing northerly winds are best, especially on the back side of the full moon starting about the third week of October.” 

Crescitelli says anglers tossing artificials and flies have ample opportunities for trophies as well. “Working in close to the shore on the trolling motor will offer shots at big fish in the shallows,” he adds. He ties on bunker flies on sinking lines for a quiet presentation and works transition points with bait and rips/eddies. He also keeps one live bait in the water to send off distress signals to feeding stripers. 

Best Place to Catch Black Marlin

• Where: Piñas Bay, Panama
• When: January and February
• How: Slow trolling live bonito

With hundreds of IGFA line class records on its ledger, Tropic Star Lodge, located on Piñas Bay on Panama’s remote Pacific coast, consistently ranks as the top big game fishing lodge in the world. It is also a reasonably accessible destination for those looking to cross black marlin off their checklist. Western novelist and angler Zane Grey is credited with discovering the area’s most prominent underwater feature, subsequently named in his honor. The Zane Grey Reef is a trio of rocky columns that jut to within 125 feet of the surface. Only a short run from the lodge, it intersects a major migratory path for marlin and other pelagics. 

Live bonito are caught, bridled and slow-trolled around the reef to entice a strike. Because of the likelihood of encounters with large fish, heavy conventional tackle is used. January and February are the peak months for black marlin, along with big blues, plus triple-digit yellowfin tuna and sailfish. Grand slams (blue, black and sail or striped marlin) are possible in February. Black marlin are also around in good numbers in April and May.

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I’ll never forget my first kiss, the first time I got punched in the face or my first blackfin tuna on a jig. During winter 2006, I heard a rumor that Hatteras skipper Scott Warren was catching blackfin tuna on vertical jigs. In those days, few people fished Hatteras in winter, hardly anyone used vertical jigs and big blackfin were an anomaly. A few phone calls later, I was scheduled to fish on Warren’s legendary Big Tahuna.

Windblown and sea-smacked in the cold months, Hatteras is a seasonal ghost town. The tourists have long since left the isolated island off the coast of North Carolina, most of the charter boats are perched on blocks or visiting southern seas, and even the commercial fishing fleet is quiet.

The parking lot at Teach’s Lair Marina was empty that February morning when I pulled in a few hours before dawn. Only one boat was lit up at the dock, diesel engines already rumbling. I struggled to make out the faces of Warren and mate Kenny Koci (who later captained Big Tahuna) wrapped in sweatshirt hoods.

A few minutes later, Big Tahuna‘s anglers for the day piled onto the boat, and we were off through the pre-dawn twilight.

Known as the Graveyard of the Atlantic, Hatteras Inlet is no joke any season of the year. Winter is especially exciting. In addition to howling winds, a strong Gulf Stream current and huge rollers, the days are short and temperatures can be frigid. We started the day layered in fleece and nylon.

The 50-foot sportfisher rolled through the slop without complaint, carrying us to the fishing grounds — a series of seamounts that the locals call “rocks,” 22 miles southeast of Hatteras Inlet. Shortly after we passed over the color change from dirty-green inshore water to the deep-blue Gulf Stream, Warren slowed the boat, and the party emptied out of the comfort of the cabin.

Fishing Vertical Jigs for Blackfins

Big Tahuna motored in circles while the captain watched the fish finder. Six anglers lined the covering boards, 6-foot rods dangling foot-long metal jigs over the side. We waited for the signal to drop the lures as the boat rocked in the choppy seas. A sharp wind drove whitecaps into the side of the boat, dousing those in the cockpit with showers of warm spray on a cold day.

“Try this, six colors!” Warren called from the bridge. Six colors equates the depth at which he marked fish on the sonar to the regular changes in color on our braided lines. I flipped my high-speed conventional reel out of gear and watched the color on the depth-indicator line change six times, knowing that each color measures 30 feet.

I kicked the reel into gear and started jigging. Sticking the rod butt under my left arm, I turned the reel handle as fast as possible while jerking the rod tip. Three jerks into my retrieve, the jig was whacked in a fierce strike.

The slight rod tip bent to the water as line shredded off the spool. I moved the rod butt to my lower gut as the fish made its first run. When the line slowed, I began to retrieve. The fish continued to buck and run while I used every resource to gain line. As I jammed the rod above my groin, my forearm burned, and every run produced grunts and groans as the fish beat my ass.

One by one, the other anglers had hooked fish and now struggled similarly to gain line. In minutes, we were bobbing and weaving through crossed lines and quickstepping to stay standing. Koci raced from angler to angler while Warren called the dance from the bridge.

By the time I spotted the first silver flash of my tuna 10 feet below the boat, the whole bunch were cursing and laughing while slipping and sliding. Koci moved in to gaff my 20-pound blackfin and flip it into a fish box already bloody with spastic tuna.

The protocol was repeated for the next five hours. Make a drop; hook a burly blackfin; fight for your fish; dance, slide, yell and holler. The beefy blackfin were a perfect match for our medium-action jigging gear. The fish box began to fill up amid the fast-and-furious action. Bouncing around the mosh pit had me sweating and peeling off layers.

By the end of the day, the winds calmed and the chop turned to a rolling swell. Warren turned Big Tahuna toward Hatteras, and the crew ­shuffled into the cabin to lick wounds. I sported purple-and-black bruises; every muscle ached, and my hands were hamburger. I felt great.

Blackfin Tuna in the Atlantic Ocean

Blackfin tuna are the smallest member of the genus Thunnus (the true tunas: bluefin, yellowfin, bigeye and others); the world record stands at 49 pounds, 6 ounces, taken off Marathon, Florida, in 2006. The North Carolina state-record blackfin, taken in 2011, weighed 40 pounds, 11 ounces.

They might smaller than other tunas, but they’re prolific and tasty. Each winter, blackfin gather in the warm Gulf Stream water as it swirls over the rocky edge of the Continental Shelf, gorging on huge clouds of baitfish caught in the considerable current.

Also during winter, the cold Labrador Current pushes down the Atlantic coast from the north, colliding with warm, clear Gulf Stream water from the south. Where the two currents meet, the water temperature can differ up to 20 degrees.

On the cold side of the break, the water is dark, dirty green; the warm side appears clear blue. The current and waves are calmer on the cold side. In the stream, the current can run to 4 knots, whipping the sea into a frenzy.

Where the Gulf Stream pushes over offshore rocks and ledges, bait and predators line up to play out the food chain. Amberjack, false albacore (little tunny) and huge sharks mix in the melee, in addition to blackfin tuna. Amberjack and albacore put up a good fight, but they aren’t locally favored for eating. Most are released.

To avoid sharks, tuna anglers need to work fish to the boat quickly. That can be tough to do with a blackfin as they pull and run without mercy. Dally on the retrieve, and a man‑eater will eat the tuna.

Tuna in Changing Conditions

As Hatteras boats explored the winter blackfin bite, they discovered more than one way to skin that cat. Over the past 20 years, blackfin jigging has waxed and waned. Some years, the bite is hot; other years, it’s cold.

Changing conditions also affect how anglers target tuna. Capt. Andy Piland on Good Times, a custom 47 Carolina sport-fisher, has made a science of catching blackfin tuna. His former partner Capt. Tim Hagerich, who now owns Black Pearl Charters, insists: “You have five ways to catch a blackfin, and you’d better be ready to use each.” On any given day, Hatteras skippers might troll ballyhoo, work a greenstick, fly a kite, drop jigs or throw topwaters.

Fishing over the years, I’ve done it all with these captains. Sometimes we fish three or four tactics in one day. Changing tactics allows the crew to stay on the blackfin bite through winter and into spring. As the season progresses, the tuna seem to get more finicky.

Early in winter, blackfin feed deep in the water column, where a vertical jig matches the menu. The best jig bite starts in January and runs through March, when the water is dingier.

Read Next: Tunas of the World — An Illustrated Guide

In early spring, the water over the rocks clears and the fish turn their attention to chasing flying fish, and local skippers switch to trolling baits. While jigging for blackfin tuna has a certain maso­chis­tic appeal, the biggest fish often come to a trolled bait. “We catch blackfin up to 30 pounds trolling, when they won’t bite the jig,” Hagerich says. “The tuna will jump clear out of the water to grab a flying fish 5 feet in the air.” The key to fooling the tuna is getting a bait into the air.

“When it’s rough as hell, we catch blackfin on ballyhoo,” Hagerich says, trolling Sea Witches with medium ballyhoo at 6 knots so the lures leap and splash from wave to wave. When it’s calm, the fish respond to a rubber squid dangling from a greenstick. By late May, the water is clear and warm, and the blackfin become pickier. “The kite works best in the clearest water,” Hagerich explains.

Suspending two rubber flying fish from the kite line is the sneakiest way to fool blackfin. Hagerich cites many days when he spent hours jigging, trolling ballyhoo, and even fishing the greenstick until the crew put up the kite, and trophy blackfin suddenly exploded out of the water.

Battling a Monster Blackfin Tuna

Excited by the prospect of a near-world-record-size blackfin, I enthusiastically jumped aboard Good Times. Riding in the bridge, my teeth clenched tight and hands gripped the hardtop as Piland navigated the boat through the shallow shoals and crashing breakers of Hatteras Inlet.

Like professional guides, weekend warriors can’t pick their days, so I found myself rolling and pitching an hour and a half to the fishing grounds. Choppy, windswept rollers are tough on fishermen, but tuna treat rough water like an amusement park as they leap out of the water, chasing flying fish through the air.

Seconds after Piland slowed the boat, Hagerich deployed a dozen rods pulling Sea Witches with ballyhoo. In minutes, chunky blackfin began exploding on the baits. Piland continued to troll as line after line went down. Before he pulled back the throttles, most of the rods were bent over and bucking.

While the anglers cranked in big blackfin, Hagerich worked to keep the lines straight, gaffing fish and rigging baits. When I spotted tuna skying out of the water 10 yards off the stern, Hagerich grabbed a hefty spinning rod and shoved it into my hands. “Cast!” he ordered.

I launched the popper off the stern, somehow managing to clear the lines, outriggers, teasers and halyards. The 8-inch popper splashed down in the middle of the tuna air show. I pulled the rod and cranked the handle. The plug chugged, throwing a cup of water. I cranked; the lure popped again. On the third turn of the handle, a burly tuna flew out of the water to descend on the plug.

Excited, I hauled back on the rod — and yanked the plug out of the tuna’s mouth. “You got to let him take it,” Piland said, laughing from the bow. Feeling the pressure of 16 eyes watching my moves, I chugged the plug again, and the fish attacked.

This time, I slowed and dropped the rod tip to the fish. The line came tight, but I gave the fish a breathless pause before lifting the rod and putting on the pressure. The blackfin responded with another blistering run, jabbing the rod butt into my armpit and forcing me to cross the deck until my thighs slammed into the covering board.

The rest of the crew cleared the trolling lines, leaving me to battle a big blackfin tuna. As Hagerich shouted orders, Piland worked to keep the boat straight and my line in the clear. I put on the pressure, wedging the rod butt into my groin and stretching my forearms for maximum power to winch the stubborn fish from the depths. I got my first good look at the beefy tuna at the same time the fish had its first good look at me. My muscles had redlined, but the tuna found more fight in the tank; it turned and rushed for the darkness, line again disappearing from the reel.

Eventually, with the silver-and-black missile boatside, Hagerich reached out with the gaff, and swung a 25-pound blackfin tuna over the gunwale and into the fish box. My arms were like Jell-O and pudding filled my legs as the tuna continued to kick its tail like a jackhammer until the lid was closed. Piland quickly pushed the throttles forward, and Hagerich deployed the rigs.

No rest for the weary, but there’s no better way to stay warm in winter off Hatteras than pulling on blackfin tuna.

About the Author
Ric Burnley is an angler, editor, author and teacher who lives in Virginia Beach, Virginia. When he isn’t fishing or writing, he’s in the classroom teaching at-risk teenagers that the pen is mightier than the sword.

The post Catch Big Blackfin Tuna Off Hatteras appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

The frigid seas of the Gulf of Maine are home to a diverse blend of bottom fishing opportunities, with species such as cod, haddock, and pollock routinely filling anglers’ boxes. However, famed Atlantic halibut are also once-again beginning to show in increasing numbers. 

Recognized as the largest member of the flatfish family, the Atlantic halibut inhabits a broad range, stretching from the icy waters of Labrador and Greenland across to Iceland, and down through the Canadian Maritimes. Within U.S. waters, Atlantic halibut are most frequently encountered by anglers in the Gulf of Maine. These demersal fish inhabit the seafloor at depths ranging from a few hundred feet to deeper than 6,000 feet. 

The largest Atlantic halibut on record was caught by a commercial angler in the early 1900s off the coast of Cape Ann, Massachusetts. It weighed more than 600 pounds even after the head had been removed.

The Crash of the Atlantic Halibut

Throughout the late 1800s, the growing population centers of the Northeast drove an increasing demand for fresh fish. In response, commercial fleets focused on Atlantic halibut for its impressive size, sweet flavor, and signature flaky texture. Records show that at least 12 million pounds of Atlantic halibut were harvested annually in the Gulf of Maine during this period.

Atlantic halibut are an extremely slow-growing species that require 10 years to reach sexual maturity and can live past 50 years of age. Over time, the extreme fishing pressure began to take its toll, and the U.S. population of halibut had all but crashed by the 1940s. 

Little effort was made to restore the fishery until the early 2000s when the New England Fishery Management Council stepped in to put in place a rebuilding plan, through tactics such as seasonal and year-round area closures, limited commercial and recreational harvest, and annual catch limits, the goal remains to get the population back to a target level by 2055. Yes, that’s another 30 years. 

Atlantic Halibut Rebounds

For an insider’s take on the current state of halibut fishing in the Gulf of Maine, I had the chance to connect with Capt. Bruce Sweet, of Sweet Dream Fishing Charters, based in Gloucester, Massachusetts. Sweet and his team routinely target Atlantic halibut along the Fippennies Ledge section of the Gulf of Maine, an underwater shoal located around 65 miles northeast of Gloucester. 

While the fishing is not consistent, Sweet says, “Over the last 15 years or so, the fishing is trending up; they are hardly abundant, but you are hearing about more and more being caught.” These days, strict recreational regulations continue to help Atlantic halibut maintain growing population levels, with only one fish measuring at least 41 inches able to be harvested per boat, per trip. 

Sweet also highlights that the surge in halibut activity has drawn increased interest from anglers, particularly as New England groundfish species have seen decreased bag limits for the past few years. 

Tips and Tactics for Targeting Halibut

For Sweet, the peak of his halibut fishing season occurs toward the end of May, into early July. The biggest reason for this is that once the Gulf of Maine hits a water temperature of 60 degrees, the area becomes inundated with dogfish and blue sharks that make getting any fish to the boat nearly impossible. 

Offshore shoals with depths of 200 to 300 feet, featuring gravel bottoms or scattered boulders, are great areas to start. While most halibut are caught as bycatch during pollock and haddock trips, targeting areas with abundant bait and other biomass is important. Along with Fippennies Ledge, anglers might also consider making the trip to Jeffreys Ledge off the coast of New Hampshire, where commercial tuna fishermen and recreational ground fishermen occasionally hook halibut that rise from the bottom to strike suspended live baits.

The massive specimens of the past are still a distant memory. Sweet reports that most fish caught by his clients weigh between 50 and 60 pounds, with the largest of his career surpassing 90 pounds. As a result, using the right gear to bring large fish up from deep water is essential. Anglers typically target Atlantic halibut with traditional three-sided Norwegian jigs, often accompanied by a series of teasers, ranging from 12 to over 20 ounces to account for current — requiring heavy conventional tackle to impart action and maintain bottom contact.

While the full recovery of the Atlantic halibut population remains uncertain, strict regulations and careful management are driving the species’ resurgence, giving anglers the opportunity to target these remarkable fish once more. With continued efforts, one day it may not take a trip to Alaska for U.S. anglers to wrestle with the king of flatfish.

The post The King of Flatfish appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

World Record Pacific Bonefish from Honolulu, Hawaii

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

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

World Record Yelloweye Rockfish from Seward, Alaska

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

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

World Record Grass Carp in Miami, Florida

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

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

World Record Andalusian Barbel from Portugal

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

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

World Record Talang Queenfish from Dubai, United Arab Emirates

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

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

World Record Black Durgon from Varadero, Cuba

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

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

World Record Tiger Trout in Salt River, Wyoming

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When to Go

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

Where to Go and How to Get There

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

What to Expect

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

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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.

Around 10,000 years ago, the massive glaciers that once blanketed much of North America retreated for the last time. In present-day central and western New York State, what was left behind can only be described as heaven on earth for freshwater anglers. Covering almost 9,000 square miles and spanning 14 counties, the Finger Lakes Region is made up of eleven glacially carved lakes in total.

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

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

Top Species to Target at the Finger Lakes

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

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

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

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

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

The Best Finger Lakes for Fishing

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

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

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

About the Finger Lakes Region

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bull Red Drum Eat Speckled Trout

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

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

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

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

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

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

By then, York will surely look even more ripped.

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

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

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

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

Where to Find Reds

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

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

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

Reviving Red Drum After the Fight

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Permit Fishing in Ambergris Caye, Belize

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

Fishing for Permit at Turneffe Atoll, Belize

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

Permit Fishing at Punta Gorda

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

Belize’s Hopkins and Permit Alley Fishing

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

Long Caye and Caye Caulker Permit Fishing

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

When Traveling to Belize to Fish

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

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