Added on Thursday, June 11, 2009  Fish Post

From Big Rock To Big Wreck 2009

Anyone who’s been involved with organizing a fishing tournament knows that while it may be a labor of love, it’s definitely labor-intensive. After putting on the Spring Inshore Challenge while cranking out the first edition of our weekly summer publication schedule, Team Fisherman’s Post Newspaper was ready to take a break. And what other way would the people who put out a fishing newspaper take a break than by going fishing?

With our busy week compounded by the fact that Mother Nature’s overactive wind gland had put the brakes on at least half the offshore trips we planned over the spring, we were craving the sight of some blue water and the sound of a deep water creature ripping line off the reel, and we put in a call to Capt. Chesson O’Briant, of Swansboro’s CXC Fishing Charters, and told him we wanted to go have some fun well past sight of land.

“They caught some yesterday in the fast water off the northeast Big Rock,” Chesson told us as we loaded our food, gear, and fish-craving selves into the boat at Morehead City’s Wildlife boat ramp, “so that’s where we’re headed.”

There’d been an incredible gaffer dolphin bite the week before, and while it had slowed a bit, the plan was to start our day by dragging baits for some stout mahi and see where the day took us from there. We had only one true goal: relax and have a good time.

While he runs a 2400IS Century bay boat for his backwater and nearshore trips, today Chesson was waiting for us in a Century 2901 center console with a pair of four stroke Yamaha 250’s.

“I just got this boat ready this morning,” the captain explained, idling away from the ramp. “Everything I brought’s in the leaning post. Put that stuff in any compartment you want to.”

Opening one of the boat’s myriad recessed storage compartments in the bow, Gary (Fisherman’s Post Publisher), Eddie (our Sales Manager), and I (Editor) stashed our food and drinks and put our gear in the cavernous interior of the console.

“I like this boat already, Chesson,” I said, taking note of a rare feature for me. “I can fit under the T-top.”

At 6’8″, about the only thing I truly don’t enjoy about offshore fishing is repeatedly slamming my head into hard aluminum T-top rod holders and tubing (though I recognize a shorter top is often necessary so that folks without arms like albatross wings can reach the rod holders), and the only threats to my cranium on this top were the rocket launchers, safely located directly above the leaning post.

After we passed through the port’s no wake zone, Chesson throttled up the 250’s and pointed the boat east towards the area where friends had reported solid mahi action the previous day. The 250’s and the Century’s 23 degree deadrise hull made a decent chop a non-issue at 30-31 knots, and we were soon rounding the Knuckle buoy, marking the point in the Cape Lookout Shoals where boats safely can turn east to head for the Big Rock.

Not long later, after a quick pause to check out some surface activity that turned out to be dolphins (not mahi), Chesson pulled back the sticks in 74 degree water and gestured to the depthfinder.

“There’s the edge of the Rock,” he explained, pointing out a drop-off that looked like a cliff on the huge display. “Alright, I don’t have a mate to do this on the way out, so I get to do all this myself,” he continued, cutting open a package of medium ballyhoo and commencing to rigging bait.

An accomplished live bait tournament king mackerel fisherman who captains his family’s Emerald Marine Fishing Team, Chesson demonstrated that he was no slouch when it came to rigging blue water baits either, deploying a five line spread of ballyhoo rigged under trolling lures in short order, along with a few other meatless lures he’s found productive.

“I catch more dolphin on this green and yellow Tuna Clone than just about anything else,” Chesson explained, showing us the simple, but apparently effective, lure before sending it back as a flatline bait.

“I love this daisy chain I made out of some Alien heads and Mylar skirts,” he continued, rigging a ballyhoo underneath the Ilander that trailed the Aliens before sending it back as another short flatline. “When the first head pops out of the water, the others all do it right in a line.”

Watching the hook-less Aliens swim in front of the stinger bait, I wondered how long it would take some creature of the deep to swim up for a look or a meal.

After I hopped down from the gunnel where I’d perched for a moment to observe the spread, I heard a distinctive sound behind me and turned to see line peeling off the Penn 30 International attached to the daisy chain. However, as soon as I looked, the reel stopped abruptly, and the unseen fish was gone, or so I thought.

Seconds later, the outfit bearing our red and black Ilander/ballyhoo shotgun bait started making the same sweet noise. This time Eddie had the rod in a flash with line still zipping off the trolling reel (out of our trio, he’s definitely the one to beat to a rod).

As I looked off the transom’s starboard corner, I saw a healthy bull dolphin bent on giving us a look at its green and gold flanks leap clear of the water twice, and then continue tearing away from the boat. The run was soon over, though, and Eddie started making progress on getting the fish back to the boat, with Chesson helping him weave through the few lines we’d left out in the hopes of a multiple hookup.

Eddie’s progress was interrupted by several shorter runs that gave Gary and I an opportunity to settle into our frequent roles of heckling the salesman (ask anyone we’ve fished with-Eddie takes some serious abuse with a smile).

“Eddie, that fish is going the wrong way! What are you doing? Stop being a pansy and reel it in!” While those quotes may have been slightly edited to protect those with tender ears, they’re just a start of the amount of frivolous lip Eddie puts up with on Guide Time trips.

Whether it was the heckling or the fish tiring, it was soon obvious that the battle was going Eddie’s way, and Chesson grabbed an 8′ gaff that has reached out and touched many a money-winning king mackerel. As soon as Eddie had the fish in range, the captain planted the steel in the dolphin’s blunt green face and swung it aboard.

With a 20 lb. bull dolphin in the boat less than 15 minutes after our first bait hit the water, the Post crew was ecstatic, and the captain wasn’t far behind us.

“I just love catching big fish, man,” he said, beaming as he showed Eddie how to hold the lively dolphin still for a photo op. “There’s not a better feeling in the world. Maybe a few that tie it.”

We redeployed the spread after putting Eddie’s ‘phin on ice, and it wasn’t long before another dolphin took an interest in a ballyhoo under a red/gold/green tinsel bait we’d already deemed the “Christmas Tree.”

Gary was up on this fish, and were the dolphin not a cow, it would have been almost an exact replay of Eddie’s fight, although perhaps with slightly less harassment, as Eddie’s usually a bit more civil than Gary and I and, at least for me, it’s hard to really keep the smack talk going without someone to egg you on (I may lack Gary’s visionary gift for insulting my friends and co-workers, but I’m working on it).

After a few beautiful jumps and some quick runs, Gary had his fish boatside. The second dolphin elevated the mood onboard even more, and we sent the spread back once again.

Since we’re all passionate bottom fishermen and jiggers, I was elated to learn that, hidden from sight in the gunnel rod lockers, Chesson had brought aboard four jigging rods and a lot of jigs. I think seeing my gaze get hungry when he mentioned jigging confirmed the captain’s inclination to try and play with some midwater and bottomfish, and he pointed the boat towards AR-302, a 460’ long naval cargo ship sunk near the Big Rock, to try our hand at dropping some metal.

“I’m like that if it’s just me fishing,” Chesson explained as we trolled towards the wreck. “I’ll catch a couple fish and want to change it up, try something new.”

With plenty of dolphin to feed ourselves in the box, we headed for the artificial reef.

After a quick battle with a barracuda as we closed in on the wreck, we cranked in the trolling spread and Chesson broke out the jig rods.

Handing us each a combo, he broke out a box full of bucktails and knife jigs, and we all took our turns choosing a weapon.

Chesson, Eddie, and I went for heavy, 4-6 oz. bucktails to be tipped with cigar minnows, and Gary chose a Daiwa Sacrifice jig that bore a heavy resemblance to a sardine.

“They’re going to like that flashing down there,” Chesson said, nodding to Gary’s jig while he rigged up a fluorocarbon leader. “There’s a big, angry animal down there waiting for that thing.”

Apparently the boss made the right choice, as he was the first to hook up. After a tough tussle that went back and forth for minutes while the rest of us tried to make it a multiple hookup, we had some color on Gary’s fish.

“It’s an AJ,” he said, and having had the best look at the fish, we believed him until it got a little loser. While it could easily have been mistaken for an amberjack, especially as deep as it was, the fish was actually an almaco jack, a much better eating and more attractive relative.

We put the angry almaco in the box after a quick photo, and motored back up to set up another drift over the structure. This time Gary and Eddie both hooked up, but to a pair of even angrier, and most likely bigger, animals that promptly ran into the wreck and cut them off on the structure.

More drifts resulted in more cutoffs and a few more almacos and an amberjack making it to the boat before Eddie decided to take Chesson up on an offer.

“You can use the planer rod if you want,” Chesson had said after one of Eddie’s cutoffs. “It’s got 150 lb. braid on it, but it’s on an International, so it’s a lot heavier.”

After the captain rigged Eddie a leader and another bucktail on the trolling combo, the salesman put on a fighting belt and earned yet another in a long line of nicknames: “Mister International.”

While we talked just a bit of trash about him using the International, per usual, the salesman was undaunted and sent the bucktail to the wreck below.

Soon I saw him jerk the rod upward more violently than he’d been working the bucktail, although the tip didn’t seem to be telegraphing a fish.

After a brief, but dogged battle, Eddie used the power of the trolling outfit and the 150 lb. braid to coax his adversary to the surface masterfully-a triggerfish of at least 3 lbs. While it was a stout trigger, I’m afraid to say that it led to just a little more trash talk given the size of the tackle.

With Chesson yet to pull something off the wreck, we started a new drift and the captain hooked up almost immediately with something he just didn’t seem to be able to stop at first. As the fish was obviously swimming towards the wreck, Chesson finally put the brakes on it at the last moment.

Sine it wasn’t fighting quite like the jacks, speculation ran rampant as to what he could be battling, with my uneducated guess a large shark since the fish seemed to have so much power.

We had plenty of time to speculate, as it was at least another 10 minutes of the captain gaining some line only to lose it time and time again.

Finally he shouted that he saw color, and it definitely wasn’t an amberjack. While the fish was at least 15 yards down in the clear blue water, it was obviously large, very shiny, and still pretty angry. As we all watched, Chesson finally turned the battle’s tide, and a beautiful African pompano materialized as it neared the surface. A few seconds later, the beautiful, unusual fish was in the boat, and for nearly the first time all day, the only words on the boat were awed and congratulatory.

With time running short in our day, we made a few more drifts over the wreck before stowing our gear and pointing the bow back towards Beaufort Inlet. Though the seas had gotten a little sloppier, we cruised in easily at the same steady 30-31 knots, the Century eating up the waves like a dolphin inhaling a ballyhoo. With plenty of action and a day of virtually nonstop laughter, mission fun day on the water for Team Fisherman’s Post was complete, and we had not only plenty of fish for a week’s worth of meals, but a very interesting variety as well.

Anyone who not only wants to load up a fishbox, but have an incredible time on the water with a captain who will keep you laughing and hooked up, would do themselves a favor to book a trip with Chesson O’Briant and CXC Fishing. When he’s not chasing blue water fish or trophy king mackerel on the tournament trail, Chesson runs inshore trips for flounder, speckled trout, red drum, and others, as well as ocean charters closer to the beaches for kings, cobia, spanish mackerel, grouper, dolphin, and more.

Give him a call at (919) 215-1950 or check out www.cxcfishing.com for more information.