Offshore trip to Panhandle

In the dreams of every angler, there leaps a thousand-pound blue marlin.

For most of us, that will remain simply a dream. But for those fortunate enough to finance an offshore trip in Florida’s Panhandle waters anytime between May and October, it’s always a possibility.

We know because Captain Tom Browning and crew, fishing out of Destin, proved it few years back with a monster billfish that scaled 1046 pounds. And while that blue remains the biggest ever for Florida, several fish in the 700-pound range have been caught since.

The offshore fish are what biologists call “pelagics” or ocean roamers. They ride the Gulf Loop Current up out of the Caribbean in May, stay in the DeSoto Canyon and off the Mississippi Delta through the summer, and complete the loop in fall as water temperatures start to fall back into the 70’s offshore.

In addition to the blue marlin, there are white marlin, sailfish, wahoo, yellowfin tuna and dolphin in the mix, as well as swordfish—mostly caught at night by specialists—all marking Panhandle waters as some of the best big game fishing territory anywhere in the nation.

The fishing begins roughly 50 miles offshore most of the time, around the 100-fathom (600-foot) curve. Basically, skippers run south until they hit the clear blue of offshore water—and the edge where it meets the green inshore water is often a great spot to start trolling for weedline species like dolphin. (Let us stipulate here, for non-fishing readers, we are not talking about hooking Flipper; the dolphin is AKA the mahi-mahi, a peacock of a fish in neon blue, gold and green, not the friendly marine mammal in sedate gray.)

The fishing areas are well-known despite being so far from land; the Elbow, the Spur, the Nipple, the Steps and the Squiggles are all part of the lexicon of offshore skippers, named for unique bottom characteristics at each.

Needless to say, this is not small boat country; most experienced offshore anglers consider a 35-footer the minimum for safety; twin engines are a must, as is satellite communications gear and a life raft.

Since very few of us can afford boats of that size and equipage, charter boats are the way to go for most. Fortunately, Panhandle ports have plenty of options, with Destin one of the most active bluewater towns in the nation.

It is, unfortunately, not cheap to go blue water fishing; because of the staggering costs of fuel, charter fees are necessarily high, typically $1200 to $1500 per day, on top of which you are generally expected to tip the crew 10 to 15 percent.

However, the cost of a day’s charter can be split by up to six (on most boats) anglers, which cuts the tally back to a reasonable level for those who can stand to share “chair time”, the hours spent actually sitting in the fighting chair and waiting for the strike.

Billfishing is a game of patience, and more often than not, those who can spend only a single day chasing marlin or sails will be disappointed. However, if you can be satisfied with 100-pound yellowfin tuna, 50-pound wahoo and 40-pound dolphin—all highly edible creatures—you’re likely to feel richly rewarded for the offshore adventure.

Getting so far offshore is a treat in itself; you may see a school of hundreds of oceanic dolphin driving tuna, or sit on the bowsprit and watch these black-and-white mammals play in the bow wake just a few feet below. You might see a whale shark lazing along at the surface, sucking in hundreds of gallons of plankton at each gulp. Flying fish sail away like transparent butterflies. And just looking into water so clear that you can see a hundred feet straight down is a lifetime treat for landlubbers.

If you do luck into a marlin, don’t expect to tie it to the roof of the station wagon for the trip home. Billfish are usually released after a few photographs; they are scarce—mostly due to incidental commercial long-line kills—and highly valued by the charter skippers who depend on them as the poster-children of their advertising.

One of the best on-line sources for info on blue water fishing in the Panhandle is Captain John Holley’s site, www.catchbigmarlin.com. There are numerous other skippers at Panhandle fishing centers who offer blue water trips, as well.

CHASING OCEAN GLADIATORS: SWORDFISHING

Swordfish are reasonably abundant in the Gulf these days, and because they are so spectacular—as well as so good to eat—they’re a popular target for patient anglers. Typical swords might weigh around 100 pounds these days, but the species attains weights of over a thousand pounds; you never know what might take hold in the dark water.

And dark it will be, because nearly all swordfish trips are run from sundown until sunup; the species feeds best at night.

The bait is typically a whole squid, with a cyalume “light stick” rigged above it to catch the attention of the fish in the inky waters below. Skippers often fish a spread of baits at 100, 150 and 200 feet or deeper to see where the swords are feeding on a given night. Fishing is generally beyond the edge of the continental shelf in 600-foot depths or greater.

Swords are equipped with the most awesome bill of any of the billfishes, and they have an ugly reputation for using it; more than any of the other bluewater fishes, they’re inclined to both get mad and get even with anglers who hook them. There have been numerous cases of swords spearing the boat as they’re brought close.

Get one to shore and steak him out, however, and you have one of the true treats of blue water fishing; along with fresh yellowfin tuna steaks, swords are tops on the grill.

OFFSHORE TACKLE

Most skippers fish 80-pound tackle in blue water, adequate to handle all but the largest marlin most of the time. The big reels can hold hundreds of yards of 80-pound test line, and all of it may be needed if a 500-pounder takes off on a greyhounding run for the horizon—or much worse, dives to bottom and refuses to come up.

Most anglers troll “rigged baits”, which are typically ballyhoo, but sometimes mullet, tied or wired to a series of hooks. The baitfish are gutted and brined to make them more durable. Rigged right, one of these baits appears to swim in the wake of the boat as it’s towed at 3 to 6 knots. Rigging is not an art for amateurs—done wrong, the bait spins and washes out in minutes.

Some skippers also use artificial lures, most often “trolling heads”, 18 inches to two feet long, which can be towed much faster to cover more water—some anglers pull these lures at 10 to even 15 knots, seemingly far too fast for a fish to catch up, but they do so with ease and the strikes are absolutely awe-inspiring.

And for those dead-serious about hooking up with a big blue, one of the best tactics is to slow-troll a live “bullet” bonito or small blackfin tuna, 12 to 18 inches long, on a bridle tied to a big double-hook rig. The boat proceeds at walking speed along grass lines, current breaks and over undersea ridges. It can be very boring fishing—until the strike comes.

FIGHTING BIG GAME FISH

It’s not a test of your manhood, OK?

Just about anybody can land the typical marlin with a good skipper handling the boat. Ladies weighing 115 pounds have done it. Ten-year-old kids have done it. You can do it, without having a stroke or getting a hernia.

Just remember a few things:

1. You can’t “reel in” a marlin, unless you’ve got a tugboat winch.

2. You fight the fish with the rod and with your back and legs, not with the reel and not with your arms.

3. Marlin fishing is a team effort involving mostly the skipper, the mate—and the designated reeler—you.

4. You don’t know anything about what you are attempting to do unless you are Zane Gray or Ernest Hemingway, so listen CLOSELY to the skipper and the mate.

5. Pace yourself; it takes a while to land even a hundred-pound yellowfin. A 700-pound blue caught a few years back took eight hours to whip!

6. Don’t touch the drag!! (Some mates have been known to rap the knuckles of anglers attempting to adjust the drag during a battle—just leave it where it is.)

The basic operation, after a fish comes up on the bait or lure and hooks itself—usually with the help of the skipper goosing the engines—is for the captain to “back down” on the fish, that is chase it in reverse, so that the angler in the aft fighting chair can keep the rod pointed after the quarry. A good skipper keeps the distance between fish and angler to a minimum after the first wild runs. Your job is mostly to keep slack out of the line and keep steady pressure on the fish from start to finish.

Hopefully, you have hooked a sensible fish that will put on a show for you with a couple dozen jumps and big runs, and then come to the boat in an hour or three. However, if the fish is foul-hooked, or really huge, or just one of those tough characters you run into every now and then, the fight can go on—and on—and on. Unless you think the fish might be a record, or unless you have a macho thing about whipping a marlin, it is not out of the question to let your fishing partners have a go at the rod. The team approach is used more often than it is talked about, depend on it. (Record catches don’t count if a second person touches the rod, though.)

When the fish comes to boatside, the mate takes over. These intrepid souls must reach down and grab the leader just a few feet away from hundreds of pounds of wild and angry muscle equipped with a bill that can actually drive right through the hull of a boat. Every now and then, a mate gets hurt or hauled over the side; they earn their tips offshore.

The fish will be drawn in close, everybody will lean over the side and take a photo or a video, lots of high fives—and the fish will be released, often after being revived by towing along at boatside as the boat eases forward. The marlin release flag will be hoisted—along with several tall, cold ones—and you can now call yourself a billfisher. Put your feet up and enjoy the flying fish skipping in the wake; it’s a long ride home.