Winter Sharking, Florida Style A Stone's Throw From The Beach By Capt. Zac Grossman I met Jim and Bob, friends visiting from up north, at the ramp in Currie Park. We were going shark fishing, just like old times in Montauk. Captain Tore welcomed us aboard and announced, "We're all set, I've got live shrimp". Maybe this wasn't going to be like old times after all, live shrimp indeed! I soon found out that the shrimp were the bait for the bait. Ten minutes from the ramp, we were drifting in a deep channel leading to Palm Beach inlet. We each put a shrimp on a hot pink Troll-rite jig head. The tail of the shrimp was torn off and the hook inserted so that it came out the top of the carapace with the head of the shrimp facing aft. This jig/shrimp combo is fished by casting ahead of the drift and then giving long sharp sweeps of the rod every few seconds as the bait sinks. Each sweep makes the shrimp dart backwards and each pause makes it sink and drift deeper with the current, tail first. I cast my bait ahead of us, made one sweep; and then on the drop felt a jolt like someone hitting it with a baseball bat. I set the hook and the 10-pound test started to fly off the reel. The first run was about fifty yards as the fish headed toward the inlet. I followed it quickly up the gunnel where I ran into Jim being towed in the other direction by his. On the other side of the boat Bob hung on as his fish headed toward the docks jutting out from Peanut Island. Fishing for bait was fun! After about ten minutes mine was in sight, but those last fifty feet were tough. Finally the gaff swung and the tired muscles were given a break, mine not the fish's. A 15-pound jack crevalle lay on the deck. A couple of seconds later another one landed on top of it and then finally the third one. "Well, we have enough for chum and bait". Our captain was ready, but we weren't. This was a blast, so I asked Tore if we had to be somewhere at a specific time or tidal stage. He said it didn't matter, so we baited up and did this a few more times. Hard hits, long runs, dogged battles and big jacks brought to the boat; one was over 20 pounds. All of these were released. We didn't get any of the permit or african pompano that he said might be among them so at 9:00 we decided to go shark fishing. For those of you used to a long ride to blue water for sharking, this is one of the great pleasures of this fishery. We left the inlet, turned north, and ran parallel to the beach in about twenty feet of water at full cruise. Tore told us to watch ahead for big splashes anywhere from the surf line to about a quarter mile out. He also told us to look down occasionally as we might spook some as well. Pretty cool, we were shark hunting! We hadn't gone more than two miles before spotting huge white eruptions half a mile ahead. These were spinners. Local belief is that they get near a school of bait, leap into the air, and crash down injuring or disorienting them. They got the name spinners because they spiral through the air like a football. We were excited. We came down off plane and headed straight for the beach. Tore dropped the anchor and positioned us about 100 yards from the shore. It was not a calm day but the anchor kept the bow into the waves making for a stable platform to fish from. How scenic too. Instead of drifting around out of sight of land, this was a nice change of pace. We sat in crystal clear, emerald green water, bottom visible, sand dunes and beach a stone's throw away. Tore cut a few fillets out of a jack and hung the rest in the water off a stern cleat. That was the chum, a far cry from what we were used to. We couldn't see pieces coming off into the current (if there even was any), nor an oil slick or anything, but he assured us that the sharks would quickly know about us. Meanwhile we flipped one chunk into deeper water with a 20-pound conventional outfit and put it in a bow holder, in gear. Another chunk went off the side, and one was cast toward the beach on a 20-pound class spinner. It went into a stern rod holder, bail closed. We then sat down and waited for a hit. The splashes were still pretty far down the beach, so we were quite surprised when the rod in the bow holder doubled over right away. Bob grabbed it and held on for dear life as the shark raced seaward, peeling line off the reel with ease. I guess we were parked in the right spot! The winter/spring run along these beaches is composed of two species, spinners and blacktips. It is real hard to tell them apart; even the IGFA requires photos showing the relative position of the leading edge of the dorsal fin to the trailing edge of the pectoral fin. Both can have black tips on their fins as well and both will often jump during the fight. We were all watching Bob fight his fish from the bow when I heard a drag start to whine behind me. I turned around to find a rod bent over and pulsating. These sharks don't fool around, they hit on the run and keep on going, no need for a drop back. They aren't leader shy either. The small fillets and single 8/0 make for a solid hook up right from the rod holder. I picked up the spinner and thrilled to the speed of this fish's escape plan. It headed straight for the beach, then only fifty feet from shore it turned north, thinking Arctic Circle perhaps? All I could do was hang on and wait. Bob's fish was now circling back in toward the beach and we had to carefully maneuver to keep the lines from touching. He had his fish coming toward us now and began to put on the pressure. Mine was still going north. After about 200 yards it turned toward deeper water and I was able to take advantage of the angle to put some side pressure on the fish. It worked; the shark was now in a huge arc that had it directly off the bow and way out. Suddenly Jim yelled out as his rod doubled over and now he was fighting one of these speedsters too. I looked back to see the chaos going on behind me. I smiled at how great a trip this was and then turned my attention back to the work at hand, and work it was. Once these fish turn sideways, every foot is a struggle. My fish was heading back toward the beach and only a few hundred feet from shore now. I heard a groan and turned around to see that both Bob and Jim had lost their fish. The two had crossed paths. I was heading for the stern when I noticed all the people in swimsuits standing knee deep in the surf watching the frenzied action. They stood there in groups, smiling, chatting and pointing our way. Finally I was able to counter some last minute scoots under the boat and brought my shark alongside. Tore knew I wanted to keep one for the grill, so he gaffed it. It went crazy and was a handful until we got a tailrope on it. My attention was then drawn toward the beach. Even over the breaking surf we could hear all the chattering. Those bathers were no longer standing in the water. They weren't smiling either, just pointing. We all laughed. The "chum" trail now had every shark in the vicinity behind the boat. This seemed like a perfect opportunity for the flyrod. I tied a bright orange fly to a shock leader of 30-pound test black Sevalon with a modified perfection loop. The other end was attached to the 20-pound tippet with an Albright. I tossed the fly out about 30 feet from the boat, not really targeting any particular fish because they were all moving around so quickly in that zone. I think any bright fly, or lure for that matter, would have gotten the same response. Instant hookup. The shark took immediately to the air as it greyhounded away from the boat. "Must be a spinner," I said as each leap included several revolutions before splashdown. It took 30 seconds to lose it. Everything from the tippet to the fly was gone. I started to re-rig when both Bob and Jim yelled out on either side of me. They had each tossed a bait behind the boat and the two surface explosions were phenomenal; competition will do that. Both of these were spinners too, and just like mine they broke off after only a few jumps. I believe that they get some of the line around their tails while in the air and their body is bent. When they straighten to full length on splashdown the line between the mouth and the tail is then sharply jerked, just like breaking mono with your bare hands. I began to realize that there is more than a little luck to landing one of these spinners on light tackle. After several more attempts, Jim finally hooked one that darted toward the beach. When it was almost there it made a sharp right turn. This meant that the line coming from its mouth was not lying tight alongside its body for each of its many jumps, but a little more toward us instead, even accounting for water drag. That was the answer, surviving the first mad dash. After a great fight, punctuated with lots of white water, the fish was finally led alongside and then released. Using this knowledge, I concentrated my fly-casting toward the beach. My hope was to hook a shark that would run straight away from my pull and then run out of water, make its turn and hopefully keep the leader away from its body for a while. It worked! This time the frantically twisting body and gyrating tail did not wrap up any of the leader. If only it would get this jumping thing out of its system quickly, I would stand a chance. I got lucky. After a couple of leaps it just put its head down and ran and ran and ran. But after about 20 minutes it was out of the water again, this time it got me. A few more sharks were played and released by my friends and then it was time to head for the dock, a mere 15-minute run to the inlet (how cool is that?). We hoisted my shark over the gunnel and onto the deck, secured its head with another rope and headed in. It later weighed 127 pounds. What a wonderful way to go sharking no matter what the season, but when you realize what is happening up north during January, February, and March; wow! If you like sharking and can't wait till June, then you'll love this reliable run of sharks. Hot action, tough fish, warm weather, and scenic beauty, and only a couple of hours from Orlando if you're staying there. (Click Here to book a charter)