Added on Thursday, August 29, 2013  Gary Hurley

Guide Time – Wahoo on Center Stage

The trolling outfit in my hands wailed as a fish that had just consumed a ballyhoo labored to separate itself from a pair of 225 horsepower Honda outboards powering in the opposite direction.

“Alright, no more bites. I’m slowing down a little bit,” Capt. Rick Croson said from the helm of his 27’ Onslow Bay. “You should be able to start getting some line.”

Rick scarcely had time to return to the wheel after securing the fifth and final line in the spread when the lower clip on his center outrigger popped free and the reel began to squeal. Standing closest to the doubled rod in the leaning post, I felt obliged to pick it up, and could do little but hold on as the fish ran and Rick maintained trolling speed in the hopes of luring bites from any or all of the hooked fish’s companions.

Used to offshore battles on traditional 30-80 lb. gear, the shrieking Shimano Talica 12 in my hands felt like a toy, but packed with over 600 yards of 50 lb. braid under a mono topshot, the little reel is more of a power tool.

Having mated and run sportfishermen all over North Carolina, Rick’s certainly put his share of fish on ice with traditional big game gear, but he’s transitioned to pulling his blue water baits on much lighter gear that’s easier on anglers, more fun, and, most importantly, has the strength to get the job done.

The fish’s initial run ended with some violent headshakes that didn’t escape Rick’s notice as they bucked the rod tip.

“Wahoo,” he said, as I reeled furiously while the fish changed directions and put all its speed towards the boat. “Gary, Josh, clear those teasers and the flatline on that side.”

Our boatmates went to work and quickly had the port flatline and a pair of interesting teaser rigs in the boat, and the fish became visible in the top of a wave 30 yards off the transom corner.

Little in fishing rivals an angler’s first look at a lit-up wahoo, and this fish didn’t disappoint; its neon-blue flanks and purple back were broken up by a series of stripes as stark white-silver as lightning bolts.

“Nice wahoo,” Rick added as the fish became visible. “Real nice wahoo.”

Rick kept the Hondas running just over idle speed to help maintain tension on the fish, and the wahoo kept pace and a parallel course with the boat. Steady reeling on my part turned the 30 yards into 20, 15, then 10, and the gap between fish and fiberglass closed. Another series of head shakes, these visible as the fish crested another wave, resulted in a course change, and the fish bolted away again, but took only a minute fraction of the line it had on its first charge.

The head shaking and back-and-forth action played out for another minute, but Rick was soon at my side with a gaff as the wahoo grew larger in the purple-blue Gulf Stream water and the mono topshot hit the reel.

“Lift up,” The captain advised as the fish drew into range.

I did as asked, closing the last foot between the fish and Rick’s meat hook, and a 40 lb. class wahoo was soon beating a frantic rhythm on the deck.

We jubilantly reset Rick’s trolling spread as the fish calmed down, thrilled to have our target species in the boat a scant 15 minutes after we’d begun trolling. Josh snapped several photos of the predator while its electric colors were still vibrant before dispatching it to an icy fish box in the Onslow Bay’s cockpit floor.

Rick had mentioned a remarkably good summer wahoo bite to me several times in the weeks prior to our trip, so when he had a free day and invited Fisherman’s Post Publisher Gary Hurley, Sales Manager Joshua Alexander, and myself to head offshore and check it out firsthand, we didn’t hesitate to accept. I usually think of wahoo as a fall/winter/spring target, but with boats reporting double-digit numbers of bites from Cape Fear to Hatteras for much of the summer, I was thrilled to go see what the warm-weather wahoo had in store.

I arrived far more wired than the half-cup of coffee I’d consumed was responsible for at the Wrightsville Beach dock where Rick meets his charter clients, but noticed Gary and Rick were a bit somber when I shouted a greeting.

“We’ve got some weather issues,” the boss said glumly.

Weather issues? The marine forecast had, incredibly, remained flatlined for the entire week leading up to our trip, promising less than 10 knots of wind and widely-spaced 2’ seas. Weather issues, while generally the main consideration for an offshore trip, hadn’t even entered my mind leading up to this Friday in late-July.

Unfortunately, Mother Nature and King Neptune didn’t seem to have been looking at the same weather forecast I did, and it was blowing over 15 knots at every offshore station Rick checked out on his phone while we leaned on the dock rail. Every flag visible from the dock stood stiff off its pole, confirming the smartphone’s assertion.

“It’s up to you guys,” Rick said to Gary. “We can go and we can get there, but it’s a long ride.”

Hopping aboard the boat, he radioed several captains who were already headed out for the Eddy Haneman Sailfish Tournament to get a live update on the conditions. The consensus was exactly as he’d relayed—fishable, but maybe not fun. Rick again put the question to us.

“Let’s do it,” Gary finally said. We didn’t look back.

The ocean was indeed a bit sporty when we cleared the jetties at Masonboro Inlet, and remained that way while we passed the tournament fleet at 23 Mile Rock, but somewhere around the 30 mile mark it mellowed a bit. Two hours later, Rick pulled back the throttles and we went to work deploying his unique five-line trolling spread.

In moments, a trolling lure of Rick’s own design on the starboard flatline complemented a quartet of skirted ballyhoo in the Onslow Bay’s wake. The boat hadn’t gone a quarter mile when that first wahoo bit and confirmed we’d made the right call at the dock.

Our exuberance over that first fish hadn’t had time to wane when another line fell from the center rigger’s release clip and Gary found himself fast to another hard-running blue water fish.

“Another wahoo,” Rick said as the fish pulled more line and paused long enough for the telltale headshake.

As with the first fish, Rick kept the speed up for a minute after the initial bite, but again, the fish appeared to be traveling solo. He soon dropped back to fighting speed and the Talica’s spool crept back from the blur it had become.

Gary’s dance with the wahoo played out much as mine had, with Joshua and me winding in the flatlines and handlining in the teasers to stash them on the transom.

We were soon treated to another striking visage of a charged-up wahoo in the waves as it paused between dashes. If humans changed color with mood the way blue water gamefish do, I’d have been at least as colorful as the wahoo, and I’d imagine Gary and Joshua were right there with me.

Fortunately, that isn’t the case, and our excitement was registered with shouts of glee as Gary closed the gap between fish and gaff and another striped blue streak came over the gunnel. The second fish, slightly smaller than our first but still an easy 35 lbs., offered further assurances that the long ride was well worthwhile, and Joshua was eager for his turn.

“I should have beat you to the rod,” the salesman said, combining a grin with a touch of chagrin. “I want a wahoo.”

Another rod bucked over and a reel began wailing before Josh could say much else, and the salesman used his not-insubstantial frame to make sure he was first to the outfit.

His adversary, while it certainly peeled some line off the reel, had a little less zip and a much different rhythm than our first pair of fish, one Rick was quick to identify.

“Tuna,” he said after taking a quick look at the rod tip.

Josh’s wahoo wish wasn’t to be fulfilled with this fish, but I know few people who’ll complain about catching a tuna of any kind, and we only needled him a bit as Rick swung the football-sized blackfin over the gunnel and handed it to the angler. Blackfins of any size are one of the finest-eating fish in the ocean, and thoughts of raw tuna, wasabi, and ginger filled my head when the fish hit the ice.

Rick’s trolling outfits aren’t the only unique part of his blue water trolling system, and we were fortunate enough to be in on one of the first trips with a new setup he’s devised. Instead of using outriggers to widen the boat’s trolling spread, the captain’s flatlines were the outermost baits behind the boat. His other three lines all run from the leaning post to release clips on a 20’ tall, carbon-fiber center rigger.

“I got tons, tons of bites on my old center rigger,” Croson explained when I asked about the unusual setup, “so I figured why not put more lines up there. I can also turn almost as tight as I want to without crossing anything up.”

The three skirted ballyhoo fished from the center rigger almost have the effect of a widespread daisy chain, and trailed one another seductively in the cerulean water of the wake. The elevated release clips also keep all of the line and nearly the entire leader out of the water, leading to a much stealthier presentation when fish get finicky and leader-shy.

I’d been curious about the system since I saw Rick raising the rigger at the dock, and after seeing it in action, I was peppering him with questions.

Rick didn’t have much time to offer answers before the sound of a release clip popping free gave way to another screaming reel, and Gary plucked another bucking outfit from one of the leaning post holders. Rick again correctly called out a wahoo, and this one seemed to have a bit more determination than our first pair, continuing its run long after the captain eased the throttles back.

When the fish finally slowed, the publisher had a substantial amount of line out, and he happily began the chore of refilling the reel with braid.

Long minutes passed as Gary gained, then lost, then gained line, but Rick grew animated when he finally got a glance at the fish.

“Big wahoo,” he said. “Let’s get all those lines in.” Josh and I pulled the teasers in, gathered the remaining four hooked baits, and refocused our attention on the battle.

The stripes I saw when I got my first look at the fish were widely spaced on a much larger blue and purple canvas than those on our first couple fish. The fish attempted to outrun the boat for a moment, streaking by the transom and forcing Gary to follow it from port to starboard, then forward to the bow.

Don’t worry,” Rick said while drawing a gaff from his leaning post. “I can gaff it up there if I need to.”

The fish slowed a bit, making the bow gaff shot unnecessary, and moments later, the captain sank the steel and plopped the 50+ lb. wahoo on the deck.

Gary’s exuberance boiled over as we sent the baits back out, and his shouts had yet to subside when I snapped some pictures of the hefty ‘hoo.

Still wahoo-less, Joshua was quick to the next screeching reel, but again came up blackfin, this one a respectable 12-15 lb. fish that put up a dogged battle under the boat before allowing Rick to grab the leader and swing it aboard.

I succumbed to a brief fantasy of a hot grill and a plate of wasabi and soy sauce as we again began trolling, but the daydream was shattered by another strike.

The reel’s song belied another wahoo, and Joshua, who was finally in the right place at the right time, took the rod. Before Rick slowed down to clear lines, the flatline outfit in the gunnel rod holder a few inches from me also bent over, but had a different cadence as the boat decelerated.

Looking out, I saw the green and gold streaks of a gaffer dolphin cartwheel from the sea with a sea witch skirt tumbling wildly a few feet behind.

The aerial display continued for several seconds and seemed to sap the fish’s energy, as the Talica/Trevala combo made short work of bringing it to Rick’s waiting gaff.

The dolphin didn’t seem too happy with its situation, flopping wildly about the cockpit and threatening a below-the-belt blow to anyone unlucky enough to be in its path.

Chasing it around the leaning post, I was finally able to pounce on the ‘phin and calm it down.

I looked up from the dolphin just in time to see Rick reach out and sink the gaff in Joshua’s much-desired wahoo.

We’d intended to do a combination tolling/bottom fishing trip, one of Rick’s specialties, and after Gary snapped some photos of the results of our double hookup, we agreed that with a pelagic slam in the box, it was time to explore the seafloor.

As it turned out, we didn’t have to travel far.

Our wahoo, tuna, and dolphin had all bit near some suspended bait at live bottom area in 160’ of water, and it just so happened, according to the captain, to be a solid grouper spot.

“We caught all those fish within a tenth of a mile of each other,” Rick explained. “That’s usually how you have to fish in the summertime—find bait and fish and keep driving over them over and over again.”

We tried a bit of vertical jigging in the suspended marks, landing a few almaco jacks before Rick broke out a box each of squid and cigar minnows and handed us some rods bearing grouper rigs.

“I caught a 30 lb. gag the last time I was out here,” he said while setting us up for a long drift over the broken bottom, “and it’s not the only one. I think I’ve caught seven species of grouper here.”

Grouper fishing ranks high on my list of enjoyable activities and I know Gary’s as well, so we eagerly baited hooks and sent the rigs plummeting to the seafloor. Those 30 lb. gags may well have been there, as after several drifts, Gary and I had both lost unseen monsters to the rocky bottom below.
We did add some enormous grunts, red porgies, and other bottom dwellers to the box, but the grouper were having their way with us. Gary finally got one off the bottom only to have the hook pull halfway up, and I had several promising hookups that eventually began angling out to the sides, turning from the hoped-for grouper into amberjacks.

After we sent down the rigs on another drift, the publisher cranked furiously and was rewarded with a doubled-rod, but I saw the line begin to angle and congratulated him on hooking another jack.

This fish had more power than the 5-15 lb. jacks I’d landed, and I was silently enjoying watching the battle as Gary felt the pain a solid jack hooked with a locked-down drag can put on an angler. Foot by brutal foot, he worked the fish up in the water column until a glimmer of color appeared deep in the blue water. As it grew larger, we realized it was indeed a jack species, but not the amber or almaco jacks I’d been catching.

“Holy crap, it’s an African!” Rick shouted. “Yeah, Gary! Where’s the gaff?”

African pompano and Gary’s desire to catch one have been discussed several times in the Fisherman’s Post office, and the Publisher had even been asking Rick about techniques to target the stunning fish earlier in the day. His wish was fulfilled moments later when Rick planted the big hook and laid the iridescent, unusual fish on the deck.

I don’t think anything could’ve made Gary happier than the act of aquatic alchemy that turned an amberjack into an African pompano, and the grin on his face and ecstatic shouts nearly matched the brilliance of the gleaming pompano as he held it up for some photos.

With a long run ahead of us, we decided that wahoo, tuna, dolphin, an African pompano, and assorted bottom dwellers made for a pretty solid day, and looking to add a grouper to the box bordered on greedy. The ocean was still much choppier than forecast, but it’s amazing how much a full fish box seems to enhance the way a boat rides, and I heard nary a complaint on our return trip.

Capt. Rick Croson has successfully pursued virtually every gamefish that swims off North Carolina, and he isn’t content to rest on his laurels, constantly refining and innovating new tactics and strategies to produce even more impressive catches. Trolling, live-baiting, bottom fishing, jigging, and popping are all in his repertoire, and his equipment is second-to-none. In addition to taking charters on his Onslow Bay, he also offers private guide trips to teach clients how to fish their own boats more effectively.

Anyone interested in becoming a better offshore fisherman or simply having an incredible day on the Atlantic Ocean owes it to themselves to fish with Rick at some point. Check out his website at www.livingwatersguide.com or give Rick a call at (910) 620-7709 to learn more or talk about your own trip.