CALO Fish Tales

Anglers have enjoyed the surf fishing at Core Banks each fall and early winter for many years.

Editor’s Note: Since the writing of this feature, the National Park Service has awarded mainland ferry service to South and North Core Banks to Cape Lookout Concessions (Morris Marina Kabin Kamps). Morris Marina now operates ferries from Davis to South Care Banks, known as Great Island, and from Atlantic to Long Point at North Core Banks. To reserve fishing cabins or ferry trips to Core Banks, call 877-956-6568 or visit www.capelookoutconcessions.com.

A crescent moon set against a starlit sky, while beautiful to behold, provided scant illumination to the night.Ghost-like gray images of anglers, clad in chest waders, barely were distinguishable as they cautiously inched their way into the rising, turbulent waters of South Core Banks at the point of the island — Cape Lookout.

These fishermen had attached to their belts large plastic bait boxes containing cut chunks of mullet, as well as whiting heads, saved from recently-cleaned fish.

Our quest was for citation-size (40 inches or longer) red drum.

Novice Mike Shive braved the sea with five other anglers.

After 30 minutes, cold chills danced up and down my spine when he said: “I’ve got something big on here and I may need some help.”

After reeling in my bait and stashing my rod in a nearby sand spike, I moved in his direction. Others, including Shive’s son, Scott, also hurried toward his frantic voice.

Twenty-pound-test monofilament spooled smoothly from Mike Shive’s Penn 975 bait-caster as a fish began a second run. A few hours earlier, during a mid-day fishing lull, he had adjusted his reel’s drag to 10 pounds of resistance, using a set of spring scales. This bit of maintenance proved to be time well spent.

After about 10 minutes, I maneuvered behind his big fish, a citation drum, as Shive led it into shallow water. Cradling the big drum in my arms, I hurried with Shive to the nearby open beach and placed the fish on its side, as the angler quickly, removed his large circle hook from a corner of the fish’s mouth.

A tape measure registered a fork length of 42 inches and a girth of 25. Camera flashes popped around him, but Shive’s face registered the concern he had for the beautiful fish.

In short order, his broken voice interceded.

“Let’s get (the fish) back in the water,” he said.

Walking knee deep into the sea, he knelt, supported the magnificent fish momentarily and gave a gentle push. We watched as it swam away, beyond the range of the faint beams of light our small head lamps cast.

As I shook his hand and congratulated him on catching his first citation drum, I noticed that Mike’s eyes were a little misty. Perhaps the drum’s powerful tail had splashed saltwater in his eyes as it departed.

After a few minutes of leaving him to his thoughts, I stepped back to him and asked: “What was that like for you?”

Following a brief silence, he responded.

“When I first saw the drum, it was indescribable,” he said. “It was for sure a relief because I have wanted to catch one for so long.

“You know, I felt even more relief when I released it and saw it swim away. I knew I was giving someone else a chance for the same thrill I had just had.”

With that last comment, he joined the order of successful big drum anglers. I don’t know a single one of them who
doesn’t share Mike Shive’s concern and reverence for these magnificent creatures, as well as a genuine respect for the other anglers who fish for them. As a group, they have class.

South Core Banks is one of the broken chains of barrier islands, which spans the North Carolina coastline. Lying south of North Core (also known as Portsmouth Island) and Drum Inlet, which separates the two islands, it spans some 23 miles distance southward to “The Point” of Cape Lookout. The island is often called simply Cape Lookout for this reason.

Mike Shive’s introduction to fishing this island spans a period of time of slightly more than a decade. He was first taken there by relatives, one of which he calls “Uncle C.J.”

C.J. Shive, who has fished Lookout for more than 50 years, and Annette Willis Mitchum, whose grandparents founded “Alger Willis Fish Camp,” offered some interesting insights into the camp’s birth and early life.

Perhaps their classic tales of its history and of their experiences there will help make going to the island as special for other anglers as they have for the Shives. No doubt readers who visit Cape Lookout will make their own memories and have their own tales to tell.

Sometimes fishing is about more than just catching fish.

A saltwater fishing addict since age seven, my standard answer, when asked about my favorite place at our amazing coast to fish is: “Where ever I happen to be fishing any given day.”

However, my first trip to Cape Lookout came in l999. And that year, during a beautiful April day, C.J. Shive shared several classic fish tales.

Seeking a brief respite from fishing, and a blazing sun, I climbed into the passenger’s seat of his black Ford Ranger. He sipped a soft drink as he took a break from fishing.

Now fishing for one of his many interesting stories, I tossed out a question.

“How many years have you been coming over here, C.J.?” I said.

A noticeable twinkle filled his eyes, and he began to search his memory. Sporting his trademark smile, he began.

“Well, I’ll tell you,” he said but stopped short as he continued to gather his thoughts. This was to be a special moment, like so many others shared with him, that will always be treasured.

We sat facing the clear blue sea, absorbing the sights and sounds of its crashing, running, and sudsy waves as they expended their energy onto the golden sand. We watched as the eight other members of our party scurried about baiting hooks, and casting, and landing flouncing, glistening fish. A movie studio couldn’t have recreated a more peaceful, beautiful set.

“I first started coming over here in l953,” he said. “I was just out of the service (Korean War) and was invited by relatives who had started coming a couple years earlier.

“In those days there were only a few cabins, and they were crude. There was no running water and travel to and on the island was much different than today’s. Successfully scheduling trips to the island back then was a rather iffy proposition at best.

“One time my brother-in-law’s family and mine wanted to come fishing, so we called the Willis family to schedule a trip. Our hearts sank when they said that both A-Models, kept on the island for folks to drive, were broken down, and they weren’t taking folks over until they were repaired.

“You know, Mark (C.J.’s brother-in-law) and I were auto mechanics, so we asked Mr. Willis what was wrong with the cars. The motor was blown in one, and the clutch was out of the other, he told us.

“You know what we did? We said, ‘Mr. Willis if you will let us come fishing, we’ll get a clutch, and install it. The wholesale cost of the parts is all you will owe us.’

“So that’s what we did. When we got there the next day, the guys manning the Coast Guard station let us push the old car up on a cement slab so we could get underneath it to install the clutch.”

He nodded his head in the affirmative, as if to re-enforce the success of an important mission.

“Within a couple hours, we cranked the repaired A-Model and drove up the beach, found a good spot, and started catching fish,” he said.

A big smile now flooded his face and spilled over to mine. And his history lesson continued.

“During one fishing trip during the mid-60s we caught so many fish that we blew out two tires hauling them back home on our one-wheel trailer,” he said, laughing.

He chuckled as he remembered when he and his fishing friends drove through some shallow water on their way back to camp and mired down.

“While we waited for the water to recede — so we could dig out — we busied ourselves rough cleaning fish in the back seat of the old Packard,” he said. “We dropped the fish heads and entrails through the rusted out floorboard and washed the carcasses off in the water flowing beneath us.”

Rejuvenated, inspired, and amazed, I returned to fishing. C.J. Shive didn’t follow right away, leaving me to ponder what other memories he was revisiting. Yes, sometimes fishing is about more than just catching fish.

“My grandparents started the fish-camp operation,” Annette Mitchum said during one trip. “My grandfather’s name was Alger G. Willis and grandmother’s name was Jeannette. Grandmother had one of the first telephones, and she used it to book reservations. In the beginning, those coming to fish the island usually spent the first night with them in their home, on the mainland (Davis Island). Grandmother always got up early the next morning and fixed a big breakfast for their guests.

“When all were fed and ready to go, grandfather took them to the island in their first boat. It was a round-bow named ‘The Margarite Earle.’ They kept a couple old cars on the island for folks to drive and grandfather could even transport one vehicle with the boat, if visitors wished to take their own. Sometimes the boat got stuck on sand bars, and they all had to get out and push.”

Mitchum said she grew up fishing at the island.

“Our families love to fish, and go as often as we can,” she said.

Encouraged to divulge her most favorite fishing spot at the island, she had a coy reply.

“Where ever the fish are biting,” she said, eyes twinkling.

“Sometimes the weather really dictates that. Our rule of thumb is that anytime the water and wind are too rough for 4 ounces of weight to hold our bait in place, we head to Cape Point. You can usually fish the backside of it under most conditions.

“And, our families also celebrate the holidays of July 4 and Memorial Day at the island every year — it’s a long standing tradition with us.”

Although a little reluctant to answer, she fielded my question of Hurricane Isabel’s damage without breaking stride.

“We are so thankful to the National Park Service,” she said. “They took charge of the cleanup, repair and rebuilding. Thirteen cabins are presently being used, and they have already plumbed in for an additional fourteen new ones. They will be built in the near future. When they’re completed, we will have a total of 27 fish camp cabins.

“And we are most appreciative to all the individual volunteers, organizations and clubs that helped the National Park Service, and us, with the cleanup and with reconstruction projects.

“We are even looking into the possibility of establishing a small general store at the island. One is surely needed.”

“Is it my imagination or are more women fishing groups than ever visiting the island?” I said.

“You are exactly right,” she said. “They’re coming in increasing numbers. They like to fish too.”

One last, but important question, was fired at Mitchum.

“What’s biting now?” I asked, watching with a wary eye as the ferry ready for departure.

Noticing my sudden dilemma, she quickly answered.

“Whiting — large whiting have been biting good for a couple weeks now,” she said. “If you like catching them, look for good holes between markers 32 and 34.”

I thanked her for a great interview and bolted like a jack rabbit, so as not to literally miss the boat.

“Good luck!” she yelled.

Erma Willis offered one last piece of advice.

“Be prepared for everything — bugs in the summer, and strong winds in the winter,” she said. “Prepare for the worse and hope for the best.”

The best is fall fishing at this magical place. Just prepare well for an enjoyable trip because few experiences can top fishing during late fall and early December at Cape Lookout’s Core Banks.