SEPT 18, 2024 | BY TIM HOMA
Teddy Roosevelt, an avid outdoorsman, once said, “Comparison is the thief of joy.” I think he was talking about cobia fishing.
I’ve always thought chasing Instagram fishing reports was a path to nowhere. Still, denying the algorithmic overlords their pleasure of watching you get carried away and slip into despair, questioning every decision is easier said than done.
Even as a self-practicing tunnel vision aficionado, this summer has been challenging to ignore the social media pandemonium. Fishing off the oceanfront and at the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay has had seasoned anglers claiming “Best ever” regarding the cobia and bull red drum. Days with double-digit cobia landed and multiple schools of bull reds popping on the surface for acres. Fish in barrels type situations, or one would assume. As the consumed hype builds, expectations overshadow intent.
Father’s Day approached with a heightened state of enthusiasm. A blow the day before limited participants, which meant less fishing pressure and, therefore, eager fish willing to be duped by my arsenal of twitch baits and swimbaits, right?
Greasy Ambitions
I met Greg Schmitt and Macon Alexander before dawn to avoid the boat ramp chaos. While we weren’t the only ones with that idea, it was the right call. Greg, a civil engineer, husband, father of two, and the ultimate psych lord, confirmed such a trait with a text to the group saying “Here” 35 minutes before we agreed to meet.
Macon, an industrial feed trader, husband, dad, and overall fishy fella, rolled in right on time with his Kencraft Bayrider 239 Bay in tow. We made quick work of the load out and headed towards the ocean as the first signs of daylight broke the horizon.
Pork roll egg and cheese on potato rolls with a mix of Chick-fil-A sauce and green Cholula served as early morning fuel. Each bite of the salty, sweet, and tanginess fueled the conversation about possibilities: big bluefish, Spanish mackerel, flounder, seabass, spadefish, cobia, or bull red drum. We had a solid weather window with favorable winds until early afternoon to partake in the thriving fishery. Our main goal: find fish alone.
Bluefish Blunder
A pair of jetties and a squadron of pelicans gliding across the swell introduced us to the ocean. The absence of visible bait and feeding activity resulted in skeptical grasps of rods, but a wise man once said, “Throw lures at rocks,” so we did.
Greg hooked a nice-sized bluefish right by the boat, fought it, and lost it –proof of life. Jigfish and epoxy jigs were replaced with topwater plugs as Macon spot-locked us in position. Quite the task for the Minn Kota as we danced around each other at the stern, thanks to the rolling swell and outgoing tide.
Bluefish might be the most fun you can have fishing without landing a fish. We experienced several vicious strikes, drag-screaming runs, break-offs, and acrobatic evasive maneuvers that proved effective each time. It got the juices flowing. To save our wallets, we left the yellow-eyed demons and set course into the deep blue.
Tidelines and Stubborn Fish
Macon plugged in coordinates to a wreck that’s been on our radar. On the ride, all three of us were a tad twitchy, thanks to the excitement from the reports. Each bait ball we came across, we braced to see a sea of gold or a big brown stalking just below – menhaden, just menhaden. The foamy edges of a tideline off in the distance, in particular, helped set us straight.
"Do you guys see that?" I said, pointing toward the horizon.
Macon directed the bow that way. "It looks like it's moving," he remarked.
Knowing we were in the area of bull red drum schools surfacing and not a single boat around us, we thought that maybe the fish gods had blessed us — nope. The closer we got, the easier it was to see a well-defined tideline, not an acre of eager bull reds.
Collectively, we sighed. The decision to stay focused and make it to the wreck was the next logical step.
We were greeted with more bait balls, birds overhead, and a fish finder displaying what you’d want to see. We dropped jigs with soft plastics, bucktails, slow pitch jigs, and squid– nothing. Eager to get fish on the deck, we pressed on.
Our next destination was a wreck we accidentally stumbled upon the year before. We were drawn in by surface activity to find, by all intents and purposes, tailing spadefish and a couple of stubborn cobia. Unprepared for the spadefish last year, we hoped for redemption.
The Trash Man and Redemption
Each run to a new spot rejuvenated the anticipation and served as a canvas for your mind to draw on all the ideal scenarios to encounter. As the shoreline disappeared from view, the ocean slicked out and turned deep blue. The horizon tempted us like the fifth and sixth beer at your friend's kid's birthday party.
“Is that a FAD?” Greg questioned as he pointed to an object a couple hundred yards from us.
FADs, or Fish Aggregating Devices, are floating structures in the middle of the ocean that attract small fish, which in turn attract big fish, most commonly mahi. The closer we got, the smaller the object got, and deja vu set in.
“It’s another balloon,” laughed Greg. “Not a cheeseburger, though.”
In a similar fashion, last year, our interest was piqued by another possible FAD which revealed itself as a large cheeseburger balloon. In both instances, neither balloon held fish, and Greg removed trash from the water.
On our approach to the wreck we encountered another like minded angler hoping to score a bounty away from the masses. We exchanged pleasantries and motored a healthy distance away. Macon deployed the Minn Kota and spot-locked us in place.
Unlike the year prior, there were no signs of tailing spadefish. Our neighbor, however, indicated they were around. Macon threw a tube of chum into a bag and set it overboard. Targeting spadefish is simple: locate structure, deploy chum, rig small hooks, clam chunks, and split shots on your line, put your rod in the holder, and wait.
There are no rabbit holes of technique or an endless supply of fancy lures to empty your pockets and cloud your mind like cobia fishing. They are either there or not, and they will either bite or they won't.
Greg dropped a jig tipped with squid off the bow to tempt a sea bass. “How long do you think it will take the spades to show up? " he asked.
Macon peeked over the stern to check the chum slick and responded, “There they are.”
Sure enough, a gigantic school of spadefish had congregated right on cue. Almost immediately, I saw Macon’s rod tip bow over and heard the drag sing. I could identify my hook in the water and watch as a chunky fish gobbled the clam; a different type of sight fishing than I’m used to.
Greg scrambled to rig up while Macon and I fought our fish. It is a fight. I’d heard spadefish are fun to catch, but I couldn’t believe their strength. My rod doubled over, and the fish made several blitzing runs. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.
We land our fish and get them on ice. “Feels good to be prepared this time,” said Macon.
Greg’s rod bends over as Macon and I put another piece of clam on our hooks. In the distance, we heard laughter from the other boat and saw all three of their rods bent.
For the next hour or so, we baited our hooks, dropped them in the water, watched the eats, and battled these steroidal aquarium fish. I felt like a kid feeling a fish pulling drag for the first time, only this time I had a receding hairline, more back hair than I'd like to admit, and greasy hands from fried chicken making it hard to grip the reel, but none of that mattered. This is what fishing is all about.
Before long, more boats started showing up. The guys on one boat said the Chesapeake Light Tower was “like a parking lot.” Greg, Macon, and I smirked at each other confirming we made the right call.
On our way back in we looked for cobia briefly before the winds made things difficult, but didn’t see a single one. We happily decided to call it for the day. The spadefish mele more than satisfied the three of our fishing fighting appetites.
Spadefish Reflection
The older I get, I put myself into a box. I’m captivated by catching fish how I want to catch them. I’ve gotten comfortable with accepting a skunk if it means I tried my way and it didn’t work. But, god damn, these self-inflicted complications can blind you to the simplicities and reason why we fish in the first place. Every once in a while, I welcome the reset and reminder of the purpose fishing serves by humbly using just bait and a hook and enjoying the fight.
Introspection aside, spadefish freaking slaps. Their mild flavor and firm fillet makes them a good fish to get weird with flavors. But, inline with my simplistic renaissance, I decided to keep things uncomplicated when cooking this time. Enjoy!
Ingredients
Spadefish
Salt
Pepper
Garlic Powder
Lemon
Avocado Oil
Instructions
On a plate, mix your spices: 3 taps of salt, 4 taps of pepper, garlic powder, and Seafood Magic, and 2 taps of Tajín.
Pour enough avocado oil in a pan to cover half of your index fingernail and turn to medium high heat.
Cook each side for 2-3 minutes depending on how MOIST you like your fish. Squeeze a lemon slice on the fillets before and after you flip them.
The meat should flake effortlessly when done. Serve with your favorite fixins!
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