Added on Thursday, July 26, 2012  Gary Hurley

Guide Time – Sail Searching

A very special group of tourists visits the Cape Fear region every summer, visitors who don’t sport out of state license plates or spend their idle hours lounging on the beaches or sipping cocktails poolside. And unlike the hordes who make the journey from points inland during the warm months, these travelers take the opposite tack, moving toward the beaches from the blue waters of the Gulf Stream.

These welcome wanderers are sailfish, drawn inshore by warming water and bait concentrations around ledges, rocks, and other structure within 30 miles of the coasts of Long and Onslow Bays. The long-nosed predators spend their summer vacations making life hard on cigar minnows, sardines, and other baitfish, following the bait as close to shore as the 10 mile range, much to the delight of local anglers.

The popularity of these acrobatic predators among local anglers fuels a pair of inshore sailfish tournaments based in Wrightsville Beach, the popular Eddy Haneman event and the new-to-Wrightsville Cape Fear Sailfish Classic, held two weeks later. Like many local anglers, Bob Newell gets sailfish tunnel-vision in the summer months, so much so that he created the Cape Fear Sailfish Classic, an all-release tournament modeled on the Haneman, two years ago, and this year decided to move tournament HQ from Ocean Isle to Wrightsville Beach.

Newell was itching to do a little pre-fishing for the event, and through the magic of Fisherman’s Post, Sales Manager Joshua Alexander and I managed to tag along for the ride.

Newel ran his 29’ Regulator “Black Dog” up from Ocean Isle one recent Sunday, and teamed up with a local ringer, Capt. Bobby Bailey (last year’s Cape Fear Sailfish Classic Champion), to maximize our odds of finding, and hopefully hooking, one of the spirited little billfish.

The pair of Bobs picked Joshua and I up at Wrightsville Beach Marina, and Bailey punched in some coordinates near 23 Mile Rock where a friend had had some sailfish action a few days prior.

The ocean maintained a reasonable chop atop a 3-4’ ground swell as we cleared Masonboro Inlet, but the Regulator made short and smooth work of the ride. I kept a keen eye on Bailey as he rigged a ballyhoo dredge and some “dink” hook baits on the cruise offshore, and less than an hour after we left the jetties, Newell was pulling back on the throttle and deploying the outriggers, and at the same time Bailey became a flurry of activity in the cockpit.

While anglers hook a reasonable number of sailfish on live and dead baits as they troll for dolphin and king mackerel, pulling flashy dredge and daisy chain teasers with the dink baits attracts more attention (and, consequently, more bites) from the sharp-eyed sight feeders.

Dredges, with their dozens of hookless ballyhoo, are sailfish magnets, and Bailey swiftly had his three-tiered version attached to one of the “Black Dog” downriggers and swimming seductively a few yards behind the center console’s port transom. A green squid daisy chain followed from the starboard corner.

Bailey coached as we deployed the seven-line spread, with a pair of flatlines trailing just behind our teasers, short and long outrigger baits staggered close behind on each side, and a long shotgun bait trailing a center rigger bringing up the rear.

“You like a tight spread, huh?” Newell queried.

“Yep, looks more like a school of bait, and it’s easier to keep our eyes on them for bites or grass,” Bailey explained fine-tuning the positioning of some of our hook baits to maximize the spread’s appeal and minimize tangle potential.

Several other boats were engaged in the hunt at the popular spot as we began our troll, and Newell put the Regulator in a slow turn to port to bring us in line with the first of Bailey’s coordinates.

“Look at that,” Bailey said to Josh and me, pointing back into the wake. “Nothing prettier than a dredge in a turn.”

The ballyhoo swimming on the teaser were indeed a sight as they flashed in the early light, and the flatline bait paddling away behind them gave a convincing impression of a distressed fish trying its best to keep up with its schoolmates.

Like all modern billfish tournaments, the Eddy Haneman and Cape Fear Sailfish Classic require the use of circle hooks to minimize gut-hooking and release mortality of their quarry, and theories abound as to the best way to rig ballyhoo on circles so they swim as though they’re alive and hook fish well.

Bailey utilizes both baits rigged with wire and swivels and rigging floss bridles on his ‘hoos, and while I couldn’t speak to their hooking ability yet, both swam beautifully in the Regulator’s wake as we trolled toward some of the offshore numbers at 23 Mile Rock.

My contemplation of the spread was interrupted as the Shimano Tyrnos bearing our short rigger bait began wailing a sweet song from its clicker. Line dumped from the spool at an alarming pace as I grabbed the rod, but it quickly became apparent that this wasn’t the pointy-snouted target we were looking for.

The speculation aboard was that it was a large false albacore, but after a brief, but dogged battle, the golden sides of an amberjack flashed in the clear water. Leaving four of the six baits still out to fish, Bailey hauled the jack over the transom and we released it, quickly re-setting our full trolling spread.

A few attacks by peanut dolphin made up the action for the rest of the morning, and watching the brilliant fish greyhound in towards the spread is a beautiful sight, but it can’t compare to the exhilaration of a sailfish bill slashing the surface amidst the teasers and baits.

“Inshore sailfishing is a lot like looking for a blue marlin,” Bailey said after a slow hour. “You ride around all day looking for one bite.”

When that bite comes, however, the flood of adrenalin easily erases any memory of the slow troll.

That adrenalin spike came just after lunch.

“There he is!” Bailey shouted from the starboard side of the boat. “Flatline!”

Luckily standing closest, I grabbed the flatline rod and dropped the reel into free-spool. Circle-hooking billfish takes some practice, and I did a mental finger-cross that this would work out. It’s vital, as Bailey explained, to let the fish take off with the bait and turn away from the boat before putting the reel in gear, as the circle-hook won’t set if the fish is still pointed at the boat.

Creeping the drag lever up, my fears were realized, as the rod met no weight on the ballyhoo end. I free-spooled again, willing the fish to return, and return it did, the spool accelerating as it turned from the boat. When the drag’s resistance came, the unforgettable sight of a sailfish head popped from the water, making a quick leap to protest its fraudulent meal.

“Josh! Get over here!” we exhorted, eager for the salesman to fight the first billfish of his angling career. “Take this rod!”

Joshua eagerly complied, and held on for a scorching run that paused only long enough for the spunky fish to tailwalk towards the starboard side of the spread. Newell fishes 100 yards of monofilament atop braid backing on his sailfish combos, and the sail made short work of the mono, melting it off the spool as the reel’s clicker squealed at an ever-increasing pitch.

The fish continued tracking to starboard and Newell eased the boat into a turn towards it.

“I’d feel better if he was up in front,” he said to Bailey, continuing the slight turn. “I like to fight them off the bow if possible. Walk on up there Josh.”

Josh took heed, moving up to the bow as the boat’s turn and the sailfish’s run combined to put it off the starboard bow. Fighting the fish off the bow accomplishes two things—it keeps the fish away from the lines and teasers hanging off the transom and allows the captain and angler to use the inherent maneuverability of a center console to follow the fish’s unpredictable direction changes and jumps.

“He’s still taking line” Joshua allowed, holding on while the fish continued to take the braid off the spool, despite the fact that fish and boat were now moving in the same direction.

Finally, the run slowed and the salesman was able to begin slowly putting line on the reel.

“Max, keep your eyes on that fish,” Bailey said, busying himself again in the cockpit. “I’m going to rig up some more baits so we can get back out quick when we get him.”

I was already eyeing the sail through the camera lens, trying to capture some of its aerial stunts, and the hi-vis line made it easy to keep tabs on the sail’s location in relation to the boat, enabling Newell to continue maneuvering the fish off the starboard bow.

Josh had been working to gain a bit of line back one pump at a time when the rod suddenly straightened.

“He’s coming at us. Wind as hard and fast as you can,” Newell coached as the sail swam a belly into the line.

Josh cranked furiously, finally catching up to the fish just in time for another run that culminated in a splashy leap and more whoops from the crew, and this time I was able to document a jump with the camera.

The interplay between fish, angler, and captain went on much the same way for the next quarter-hour: Josh alternately winding furiously, Newell constantly fine-tuning its angle off the bow, and Bailey now back in the bow waiting to touch the leader.

“Josh, you’re doing something right now that a very small population of this world will ever do,” Bailey said as the sail walked off a few more yards of line and foiled another attempt at the leader. “Fighting a billfish.”

We’d had the sail within yards of the boat several times, but each time it seemed the leader would come within reach, the fish walked off a few more yards of line.

“If this was a tournament, we’d be using longer leaders and would’ve been able to get the release already,” Newell explained.

A moment later, Josh’s cranking and Newell’s boatwork combined to put the clear 60 lb. monofilament leader in Bailey’s hands and the catch was official.

The fish’s bill chafed through the leader and it swam off strong almost immediately, and after a round of high-fiving, we quickly redeployed the spread and began the hunt for another hungry sail.

One more came to the flatline bait around an hour later. I was luckily standing at the rod yet again, but this time my first, second, and third dropbacks failed to connect with a leaping sail.

“Should I have let him have it longer?” I asked Newell and Bailey.

They gave me a few dropback tips gleaned from their collective billfish experience, among them easing the drag lever up extremely slowly and keeping the rod pointed straight at the fish until it is hooked. I took mental notes, hoping to put their advice into practice if we got another shot, but we’d raised our last fish of the day.

Our goals were accomplished, however, as we’d found that the area clearly had some fish in it and Joshua had released his first-ever billfish.

“Any day you set out to catch a sailfish and actually do it,” Newell said to hearty agreement, “you’ve had a good day.”

Sailfish will be feeding within 30 miles of the area beaches through August at least, and anglers interested in targeting them should also think about participating in the Cape Fear Sailfish Classic to be held August 9-12. In addition to providing spirited competition for one of the area’s most welcome summer migrants, anglers can learn from some of the area’s best sailfishermen and benefit from a large fleet of boats searching for the best bite.

The tournament format remains unchanged from previous years, but the tournament festivities will now be at Wrightsville Beach Marina instead of Ocean Isle. Participants document their sailfish releases on camera and turn the cameras in to the tournament committee at the end of each fishing day.

“Guys can still fish Ocean Isle,” Newell explained. “We’ve got camera drop-offs in both places. I think more people are doing it up here, so all we really did was move the captains meeting.”

The Cape Fear Sailfish Classic features prizes for first, last, and most releases, along with largest dolphin each day of the event and an overall winner for most sailfish released. The event also serves as a fundraiser for Cy’s World, a foundation dedicated to promoting the lifelong love of the outdoors to youth in honor of Newell’s nephew Cy Garber, who passed away in 2010.

“Cy was a big outdoorsman who loved surfing, hunting, and fishing,” Newell explained. “All the net proceeds are going to his foundation.”

More information about Cy’s World can be found at www.cysworld.org, and anglers interested in the Cape Fear Sailfish Classic can learn more at www.capefearsailfishclassic.com.