There’s an axiom that describes each angler’s progression in the sport: any fish, many fish, big fish, hard fish. A fisherman starts out happy to catch anything that will bite the hook. Then, he wants to load the bucket with fillets. Next, target the biggest examples of a species. Finally, a life-long angler will spend his old age chasing unicorns with pixie sticks, targeting the most illusive trophies with the most challenging tackle.
That’s where I am. I’ve caught everything, lots of ‘em and big ones. Starting with any panfish, then bailing many school-size stripers, then horsing on big drum, each stage of the progression led to the next.
WE FISH BECAUSE IT IS DIFFICULT. | PHOTO: RIC BURNLEY
Last spring, after landing two big drum in my kayak on the first trip of the season, I decided to take it to the next level. I dedicated my life to catching a big drum in the surf.
Targeting big drum in the surf is my favorite type of fishing. Nothing compares to beating a 50-pound freight train from the beach. Braving the breakers to launch a half-pound of bait and lead 100 yards with a 12-foot surf rod is my idea of fun.
Since my favorite beaches in North Carolina were shut down to protect an endangered bird, I’ve been looking for a new place to fish. The barrier islands of Virginia’s Eastern Shore also hold big drum, but the only way to get there is by boat. Using the kayak as my assault vehicle, I decided to go full metal jacket on old drum in the breakers.
I spent a month paddling to the island, fighting the surf, battling rays, packing, unpacking, rigging, rerigging, break offs, hook pulls, shivering, burning, hiking, slapping flies, cursing, worrying, experimenting, learning and staring at the horizon. I fished after work, into the night, on weekends and even camped out for days. Most of my trips were solo, few people share this passion. On the last afternoon of prime season, I finally hooked and landed a big drum in the surf. The payoff didn’t disappoint. The run, the fight, wrestling in the white water and hoisting the fish for a quick photo before releasing it back into the surf had my head spinning and my knees weak.
Every fish I ever caught contributed to that catch. Hours spent daydreaming at work and nights spent working in the garage prepared me for one big bite. Fishing’s greatest fun isn’t the catch, it’s the hours spent readying for the catch. On page 38, we profile five trophy hunters who chase big fish the hard way. Then, on page 45 we give you 67 skills to get the job done. The editorial staff is dedicated to packing the pages with what, where, when an
This article was first published in the Winter 2016 issue of Kayak Angler Magazine. Subscribe to Kayak Angler Magazine’s print and digital editions, or browse the archives.
