If you like instant action tinged with a little danger, try shark fishing behind a shrimp boat.
“I already ran over and took a quick look to be sure there were still some shrimpers out — and there were,” Capt Matt Wirt said aboard his Sea Chaser bay boat a sunny August morning last year.
“We shouldn’t have any problems finding some hungry sharks to fight. Hopefully there are some big ones in the mix and maybe a few blacktips. They can be real exciting when they get airborne.”
Wirt’s key turn powered the Suzuki outboard, and the boat quickly jumped on plane to travel several miles up the Intracoastal Waterway to Carolina Beach Inlet. On the way, Wirt (Reel Adventure Charters, www.reel-adventure.com, 910-540-0570) was explaining just how he’d target sharks that morning.
His excitement was showing in his body language and voice and was contagious.
His friend, Jason Todd, also was getting primed as we turned into the channel from the waterway to the inlet and got our first glimpse of the uncharacteristically calm inlet and ocean. If there’s such a thing as karma, we must have done something right.
As we cleared Masonboro Island and Carolina Beach, Wirt slowed the boat to ease across the small swell running into the narrow inlet channel. While it was much later before any of us said anything and risked the chance of disturbing the sleeping sea, none of us had any recollections of traversing Carolina Beach Inlet in such calm conditions. Our passage through the often treacherous inlet was quick, soft, with a minimum of spray and only served to heighten a sense of awaiting adventure.
Once in the ocean, Wirt pointed the boat south, towards Kure Beach and several shrimp boats that were trawling the bottom less than a mile off the beach. Skimming quickly along the nearly glassy ocean, we rapidly closed the gap until Wirt pulled back on the throttle.
“This is it, gentlemen,” he said. “Are you ready?”
I nodded and looked at Todd. The smile growing across his face spoke volumes for Wirt.
“Let’s get some baits on and see if anybody is hungry,” he said, his voice spiked with adrenalin. “There should be lots of critters home and hungry; this ought to be fun.”
Reaching forward in the rod rack, Wirt pulled out a Shimano Tyrnos 20 reel loaded with 80-pound-test Spiderwire Stealth braided line spooled on a custom Next Level stand-up rod he built especially for shark fishing. It had a 6-foot leader of 130-pound Sevenstrand braided wire and a razor-sharp Eagle Claw 10/0 hook.
From the bait cooler, Wirt grabbed a Spanish mackerel fillet most fishermen would be thrilled to take home and threaded most of it onto the hook. He left the tail section trailing to give it a little action. Next, he pulled a similarly-rigged, large Abu Garcia spinning reel with another Next Level rod from the rod rack and baited it with a large chunk of false albacore.
As he slid these outfits into the gunwale rod-holders with the baits dangling just inside the boat, he said he’d ease the boat just behind the shrimp boat and cast the baits down between the cables running back to the nets.
The rigs were sinkerless so the bait chunks would sink at the same rate as the overflow from the net. He said the stand-up outfit wouldn’t cast as well but would stand more strain and be easier for most people to use. The spinning outfit would allow for longer casts but wasn’t quite the same workhorse.
Waving to the shrimpers on the boat, who smiled and waved back in recognition, Wirt eased into position, pulled the outboard into neutral and hurled the Spanish fillet off the bow between the cables attached to the shrimper’s twin nets. He handed this outfit to Todd and instructed him to allow it to sink until he felt something pick it up.
“When you feel something pick up your bait, put the reel in gear and quickly crank all the slack out of the line while pointing the rod tip towards the line,” Wirt said. “Sharks have tough mouths, so when the line comes tight, jerk it hard a couple of times to be sure to set the hook; that’s when the fun will begin.
“I’ll have the spinning outfit ready to cast if yours doesn’t hook up — or if we see something interesting.”
Wirt was barely finished with the instructions when the line started moving sideways through the water, and Todd announced he was having a bite.
“Point the rod tip at him and crank,” Wirt said excitedly. “Reel hard; get the slack out of the line and set the hook.”
Todd followed the instructions and in a few seconds was holding a deeply-bent rod with a screaming reel. The fish broke to the left and streaked out behind the shrimp boat. Line was vanishing seaward at a rapid rate as the squeal of the reel rose a note in pitch.
“Jump, come on, jump,” Wirt said in a commanding voice the fish didn’t heed.
He later explained blacktip sharks usually jump during the fight and add to the excitement — he was hoping Todd had tangled with one.
The fish emptied more than half the spool of line before slowing but never jumped. Wirt said it probably wasn’t a blacktip and began to offer advice and encouragement to Todd as the angler pumped his rod and reeled to recover line.
After about 15 minutes and a quart of sweat, Todd had recovered most of the line, but the fish was sulking deep and swimming in circles underneath the boat.
“He’s testing you,” Wirt said with a laugh. “I know you’re tired and have been straining for a while, but it’ll be easier if you can give it a bit more and bring him on in before he rests and gets a second wind.”
With this encouragement, Todd dug a little deeper and started winning the battle. At first he would lose 4 feet for every 5 feet gained, then it was 3, then 2 feet. Finally the fish allowed itself to be led to the surface. It first came into view a few feet off the boat and still below the surface.
“That’s a nice shark, but we should see some larger,” Wirt said. “Lead him over here where I can get to him and we’ll invite him aboard for Jerry to take some pictures.”
The shark tried to resist being led to the boat, but seeing it had given Todd a shot of adrenaline; he steered it within Wirt’s range.
Deftly working the gaff around the shark’s lower jaw and into its lip, Wirt heaved it onto the bow deck. It was a nice 30-pound blacknose and had been a good battle for Todd. After a few quick photos Wirt slipped it back overboard; it leisurely swam away, not noticeably affected by the experience.
As we headed back toward the shrimp boat in the distance, Wirt’s voice jumped a little and it was easily evident his excitement had climbed a couple of levels.
“See the doors and nets coming out of the water?” Wirt said, his voice bristling with excitement. “That means they’re pulling the nets in to dump their catch. In just a few minutes, they’ll start culling the catch and shoveling what they don’t want overboard. That is when the fun will really start. It’s like a dinner bell for the sharks; every shark in the area will come running in to feed.”
Wirt took advantage of the time it took the shrimpers to dump their nets and separate their catch to re-rig the used outfit and get several others ready. He said when we moved into the flow of discarded fish from the trawler, a melee would begin. We needed to have everything rigged and ready in case of bite-offs.
With five sharking outfits rigged and baited, we crept up to the stern of the trawler just after the crew began shoveling the unwanted by-catch overboard. There were already enough sharks swimming around us we were seeing them.
During the next 10 minutes the number of fins and sleek gray bodies in the water would grow to the point they were thick enough, as excited anglers have said from time immemorial, “to walk on.”
Sharks were everywhere, ranging from 2-footers to 8-footers. Wirt said sharks a lot larger probably cruised at the sides of and underneath the feeding frenzy.
It wasn’t a place to even contemplate falling overboard.
This was indeed a feeding frenzy and comparable to anything seen on the Nature or Discovery channels. The difference was this was real, here and now, with hundreds and perhaps thousands of hungry sharks wildly feeding around and underneath us.
To call what we were feeling an adrenaline rush would have been a ridiculous understatement; it was more than that. Danger and excitement spiked adrenaline in bodies. But it was an exhilarating feeling.
Wirt and Todd cast baits into the fray and received immediate strikes. The sharks first runs crossed their lines, then they reversed course. Todd and Wirt managed an awkward fishermen’s two-step across the bow deck, executing a quick do-se-do and managed to keep the lines untangled.
As soon as these fish were boated, photoed and released, the two anglers grabbed two more baited rods and cast back into the skirmish. This instantly resulted in another pair of shark hits, complete with deeply bowed rods and howling reels.
After this episode finished, Wirt and Todd gulped down some Gatorade while re-rigging for another chapter. More back-straining action produced a pair of sweat-soaked shirts, broad grins and toothy critters for the now tiring fishermen.
Their earlier enthusiasm had given way to heavy breathing, but their faces still beamed broad smiles. Undoubtedly some muscles would comment painfully about the over-exercise later that night — and for the next several days — but at the moment, it was incredible fun.
Our adventure continued in a similar pattern for most of the morning. Blacknoses were all run and tussle, while the lone blacktip performed a couple of reverse somersaults with full twists while wriggling wildly and trying to dislodge the hook.
The battles were fun and the sight of so many sharks feeding ferociously around and underneath us will stay with us for a long time. It wasn’t “Jaws” the movie, but far more real.
Our smiles and laughter back to shore gave way the next morning to the soreness from muscles rarely used and suddenly overtaxed. In reality, it was a pleasant soreness and we held the trump card in this deck.
We’d taken a bite out of Jaws and had fun doing it. Even better, the blacktip steaks were excellent when introduced to some lemon pepper and hot charcoal.
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