Hit the Jackpot

The ‘Horseshoe’ is a lucky spot for summertime mixed-bag fishing off Southport.

The day dawned, one of those mid-summer beauties you hope for when heading out into the ocean. While he didn’t voice his concerns to the happy charter in the cockpit, the captain was concerned it might be just a little too nice and the fish wouldn’t cooperate, even though he’d been catching fish in one area for more than a week.The ride out was especially nice as the 44-foot Get Reel, glided across the glassy swells, gently rising and dipping in harmony with the ocean rhythms. It was an excellent day to be fishing, and the anglers were hoping for a mixed bag that would include king mackerel, dolphin and maybe a surprise or two.

On the flying bridge, Capt. Dickie Flick eased the throttles back to fishing speed, and the sturdy boat settled into fishing mode.

“This is where we left them yesterday,” said Flick. “They were still biting when we ran out of time, so hopefully they’re still here and hungry. Get those lines baited and over, and we’ll find out pretty quick.”

Leaving from South Harbor Village Marina on Oak Island, Flick had run to an area known as “the Horseshoe.” He knew king mackerel had been a little closer in, but dolphin had been biting at the Horseshoe, a large livebottom area about 20 miles of Cape Fear and just west of Frying Pan Shoals. He wanted his charter party of four women and two men to have a little variety.

The baits were frozen cigar minnows on skirted king rigs.The mate pitched the first bait into the water and eased it back into position, then busily set about placing the rest of the spread out in his preferred arrangement.

The fish were still there — and hungry —and the first strike came before all the baits were out. The theme “Ladies first” won out as the mate called for someone to take the first outfit and quiet the howling reel.

When the fish slowed, the coaching began: lift the rod tip and wind as it’s being lowered. Don’t drop the tip too quickly, and don’t let any slack get in the line. After a few minutes, fishing’s “first lady” caught on and began easing the summer king back toward the boat. The long initial run that set the clicker howling took most of the fish’s energy, and in a few minutes, it appeared deep in the water a few feet behind the boat.

“It’s a king,” the mate called to Flick. After another spurt that belied its size and exhaustion, the mackerel finally gave up and was led to the gaff and hoisted into the fish box.

“Good job,” Flick said with a contagious smile. “It’s not a huge fish, but it will taste good. Besides, you’ve got to catch the first one before you can catch any others. Now, we’ve got the skunk out of the box. Let’s go get some more.”

With the lines back out, Flick circled across the spot again, and another reel began singing the happy song. The bent rod was handed to the second lady, and she was ready; a second king came in easily and joined the other in the fish box.

The bite slowed after the initial flurry and shortly Flick decided to move.

“There is another spot about five miles farther out where we’ve been catching some dolphin,” Flick said. “We could stay in here and pick through those kings, but I believe we can catch some mahi out there. Most folks have never seen them get all lit up and jumping, so this should be fun. It’ll also get them some good filets for dinner and to take back home.”

This time when Flick slowed the Get Reel, the mate had the rigs baited and got them out very quickly. In just a few seconds, a splash behind and to the right of the boat brought this call from the bridge: “Dolphin!”

The fish jumped several times being led to the boat and dropped into the fish box beside the kings. Several other boats were in the general area, and more than half of them were also fighting fish. It appeared the captain’s concerns about the weather being too nice for the fish to bite well weren’t going to be an issue this day.

“Get ready for some more dolphin,” Flick said. “This piece of wood over to the right has at least two swimming under it. I’m going to pull the baits on that side right by it and see what happens.”

Like synchronized swimmers, two dolphin streaked from under the wood towards the baits. Seconds later, they were turning airborne somersaults and putting grins on everyone’s faces. Enough fish had been caught that it was the men’s turn on the rods.

The fishing wasn’t “on fire,” but it was steady enough to keep everyone’s attention. One of the most explosive strikes came after a period of about 20 minutes without a strike, with the fishermen’s concentration broken.

Suddenly, a rod bucked, the reel screamed, and as everyone turned around, there was a huge splash about 30 yards behind the boat.

“Did you see what it was?” Flick was asked repeatedly. Unfortunately, “No,” was the answer. Round Two brought another man to the rod and reel.

The primary thought was that it was another dolphin. Then, the fish exploded missile-style, straight up into the air, and removed all doubt. It was a barracuda and a big one, too!

The toothy wonder made two runs before the fisherman won out and was gaffed. Dragging it across the stern, the mate told the fisherman it was a citation fish for sure. After posing for a few pictures it joined the other fish in the fish box, opening a discussion about the table quality of barracuda.

The bite slowed early in the afternoon, but the day’s biggest dolphin was just getting hungry. A nice bull, it tested the fisherman and the tackle, but in a man-to-man battle, the fisherman won, and the big dolphin joined the smaller ones in the fish box.

The fish continued to bite intermittently until it was time to go. The mate stored the rods and reels and suggested that everyone apply sunscreen again for the trip in, good advice with the bright sun overhead. The barely-rolling swell put several of the tired anglers into dreamland during the relaxing ride back. The final leg of a mid-summer, mixed-bag fishing trip was the nap on the way back to the marina.