Neither rain nor cold weather keeps fishermen away

By Mike Marsh
Published in Sports on December 27, 2013 1:47 PM

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Even in the dead of winter, good fishing weather can suddenly spring to life, and when it does, anglers need to be prepared. During the warm spell that spanned several days beginning last weekend, a few anglers who had not yet retired their boats for the winter were getting out on the water to check things out.

Two of them were Capt. Butch Foster and his son, Chris, who live in Southport. Butch is an offshore charter captain who operates Yeah Right Charters and Chris has also served as the boat's captain and mate until he began working during the maintenance outages at a nuclear power plant.

They were fishing for fun as well as for food on this day.

"It's nice to take a break from running the big boat during the charter season," Butch said. "I like getting out in my little skiff and seeing what there is to catch. Fishing the creeks near Southport usually turns up something that is biting, even when the weather has been cold."

The anglers had found a school of croakers the day before and the fish were biting well. Loading the boat with foul-weather clothing against a threatening rain was the last thing they did before launching the boat from the dock.

"This time of year, you have to go prepared for any weather condition," Butch said. "You can't trust the weatherman. The wind is supposed to be light and out of the south, and this drizzle is supposed to end by afternoon.

"But we still brought along our rain gear, sweatshirts and heavy coats. Basically, we empty our closets into the boat and hope we have what we need if the weather turns bad."

However, all that was required on this day was a coat for the miles-long run along the Atlantic Intracoastal Waterway. The rain dissipated and left in its wake nothing more threatening than an overcast sky.

The two anglers took off their coats and reveled in the shirtsleeve weather, stripping down to nothing more than T-shirts. Butch reached into a plastic container that looked like it had snow inside. But the lumps of white crystals turned out to be half-inch long tidbits of shrimp covered with salt.

"Salt toughens the shrimp so they stay on the hook longer," he said. "When you fish for croakers, the fish can nibble away your bait. I want to catch them two at a time every time I make a drop."

Chris climbed onto the bow of the 19-foot Carolina Skiff with the anchor swinging like a pendulum from his hand. At Butch's signal, he dropped the clanging heavy metal, which included the rattling of a long chain to help the anchor gain hold of the soft bottom.

"Knowing how to anchor is as important as knowing where the fish are biting," Chris said. "The wind is blowing one way and the current is running another way. We are trying to get right on top of a ledge that drops from 14 to about 21 feet. The fish will be right along the drop-off, if they are still here like they were yesterday."

Fish, especially small, highly-migratory fish like the Atlantic croaker, might bite ravenously one day then be nowhere to be found the next.

Chris and Butch tied homemade rigs consisting of a pair of dropper loops knotted right into their 15-pound test mono-filament lines, threaded on two, No. 6 long shank hooks and baited them with salted shrimp. Dropping the baits to the bottom on baitcasting rods and reels met with little enthusiasm on the part of the fish. After a couple of throwback croakers had been boated, Chris re-assumed his position on the bow and up came the anchor.

"Let's move to the other place we caught them yesterday," Butch said. "Even the other boats aren't catching anything here."

One anchored boat attracts another and another, until they look like a flock of seagulls on the water. While the Foster's boat was the first to arrive at the croaker hole, others soon drew near.

After leaving the flock of boats and anchoring on another ledge about a half-mile away, the father and son team dropped baits again. This time, the croakers bit with abandon and their cooler filled steadily. They even caught a few small spots, which they tossed back.

"To me, a spot tastes like iodine," Butch said. "But I'll take a croaker home, anytime."