Shrimpy Giants

Ten miles off Wiggins Pass we spotted the shrimpboats. They were hard to miss, with their long outriggers rocking up and down in the waves.

 

 

Here's a hundred-plus-pound blacktip, typical of those attracted to shrimpboats when the catch is culled.

Chris Carter made a slight rudder change on his 25-foot boat, pushing the throttle to shorten our ETA. In 15 minutes we reached the first shrimper, and Chris maneuvered into position to drop anchor just aft of its rear port quadrant. We were in 60 feet of water, and once the anchor line came tight, our boat ended up in perfect position, just a long cast from the shrimpboat's nearest rigger. “Good, they haven't dropped their bycatch yet!” Chris exclaimed.

 

Carter, of Naples-based Shark Hunter Charters, knew some heavyweight predators would be lurking in the area. A number of shrimpboats anchor out in the Gulf of Mexico to sort their catch just before daybreak. The netters toss overboard most of the catch other than shrimp, and a number of marine animals, from birds to large sharks, hang around waiting for breakfast to be served. Our mission was to take a catch-and-release survey of those sharks, which according to Carter come in many shapes and sizes.

 

“Most of the sharks you find around the shrimpboats are blacktips,” he said. “But you also find some hammerheads, and sometimes a tiger or a bull makes the scene.”

 

We had planned this trip for the last week in June, knowing that summer is the best season for tackling the greatest variety of sharks. The trick is locating those shrimpboats.

 

I could see a shrimper still hard at work, busily sorting things out on deck. That gave us enough time to give our tackle a last-minute check, pull the baits out and get a chum cage in the water. The chum cage is a handy, durable tool for deploying a block of blood chum to spark the attention of nearby sharks; some tackle shops sell cages, or you can make one from wire mesh available at a hardware store.

 

 

Chuncks of bonito produce lots of scent.

Although I favor light tackle for most occasions, I followed Chris' recommendation and started with a 30-pound outfit. It made sense to get a shark or two to the boat before playing with lighter stuff. Of course, in the scheme of things, 30-pound tackle is actually considered light for shark-fishing duties. I pinned half a mullet on my hook, flung it out in the direction of the shrimpboat, and waited to see what would happen. No chance to even start a countdown; the bait was inhaled almost as soon as it hit the water. To click the reel back into gear was the only thing needed to set the hook. The shark was moving so fast it practically jolted the rod from my hand when the line came tight.

 

Not many sharks can match the speed of a blacktip, so we were all pretty certain of the identity of our first taker. Even on 30-pound gear, the shark gave a very good account of itself, and it took some serious convincing to turn the stubborn critter. Of course, just when I thought the fight was about to end, the shark saw the boat and initiated another powerful run. It went down first, and then headed toward the bow, right in the direction of our anchor line. Barely averting disaster, in a few minutes I brought the fish to the surface near the boat. It was a nice blacktip, just short of six feet and about 90 pounds. Not bad for our first shark of the day!

 

I reached into the water and grabbed the tired shark by its tail while Chris held the leader and cut it as close to the hook as his courage would allow. Practically on cue, the blacktip thrashed out of my hands and went off into the depths to join its mates.

 

The fight and the quick release lasted no more than 15 minutes, but by then the shrimpboat next to us started to dispose of its bycatch. Man, what a sight! The 50 or so frigatebirds that sat on the net boat's spread riggers suddenly came to life, and countless seagulls and pelicans joined in the feeding frenzy. They weren't the only ones going crazy over the easy meal. Just seconds after the bycatch hit the water, it was easy to tell that sharks were in on the action. I spotted several fins slicing through the surface, but I could only imagine what must have been going on down below.

 

Not wanting to miss the opportunity for a double hookup, both Chris and I dropped baits into the melee, and were rewarded with instant takes. No doubt it was another pair of blacktips, as both hooked sharks sped away the instant they felt the hook. Although we tried hard to keep them both under control, I lost mine to the anchor line. Chris, however, was successful in bringing his shark, about a 30-pounder, to boatside for another release. So fast and furious was the feeding under the shrimpboat that we only had time for one more try before the deployed bycatch was all gone and the sharks began to disperse. Luckily, we did manage another hookup, but the hook pulled almost immediately, and the shark was lost.

 

 

Angler monitors the baits behind a shrimpboat.

As things began to settle down, Chris explained how the sharks don't disappear right after the bycatch has been consumed. Most of them hang around the shrimpboat in hopes of finding additional morsels. That's when chumming becomes important to keep any interested sharks within striking distance. Just as he said that, he replenished the chum cage and dropped it overboard again. But instead of pitching baits toward the shrimpboat, this time he elected to float them behind our transom with the aid of balloons.

 

Chunks of bonito and kingfish, which broadcast oil throughout the water, are particularly good for luring sharks.

 

Once again, it didn't take long for a shark to home in on the baits. Now it was Chris' turn to jump into action, so he pulled the rod out of the holder, and struck hard to drive the hook home. His shark went ballistic, jumping clear out of the water as blacktips often do, and then doubling back toward the front of the boat in a fraction of a second. The jump gave us a clear look at a mature blacktip pushing 100 pounds.

 

Amazingly, the big blacktip earned its freedom by biting through 80-pound steel cable before coming close enough for a snapshot.

 

When I turned around I was treated to a very cool sight: a juvenile tiger shark on the surface swimming right toward our boat. Somewhere between six and seven feet in length and perhaps 80 or 90 pounds in weight, the shark looked very slick, with the classic stripes of a tiger clearly visible along its body. All attempts to bait the tiger were unsuccessful, however, as the wary animal swam around the baits a couple of times, and chose to keep on swimming for parts unknown.

 

No chance for a countdown; the bait was inhaled as it hit the water.

My next taker would be the the largest shark of the day, an 8-foot hammerhead that took a bait suspended with a balloon right from the back of the boat. “Big baits for big sharks,” Carter had said as he'd floated out the fillet on a 50-pound outfit.

 

Having grown accustomed to the speedy blacktips, I found the fight with the hammer very different. Instead of speed, hammerheads use their brute power, and the one at the end of my line sure had plenty of it. Estimated at somewhere between 180 and 200 pounds, the hooked shark made clear who was boss the moment the line came tight. It shifted sides constantly, sounding every so often as if to say “take that!” But the drag on my reel did what it's supposed to, and after 20 minutes of huffing and puffing, I brought the hefty hammerhead boatside, where Chris began his first attempt to wire the tired, but still thrashing shark. Chris got a good hold on the leader on his third try, and pulled the big hammer close to the boat, but as I was reaching for my camera, the shark made a sudden run and broke free.

 

After pulling on that big shark, we broke out the light spinning gear in hopes of having some fun with the blacktips. Fun was definitely the operative word as we pulled on 30- to 60-pounders for the next hour before calling it quits and returning to port.

FS

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