Field and Stream - Offshore RSS

Video: Filming a Free Swimming Black Marlin

Online Editors — Wed, 23 May 2012 11:15:47 -0400

by Tim Romano

As a photographer and an angler, I just can't get enough of these videos that underwater photographer Marc Montocchio puts together about his blue water shoots. This installment shows Marc and his crew on the Pacific coast of Panama, trying to photograph a free swimming black marlin. Enjoy.

New Top Alabama King Mackerel: 10-Year-Old Record Broken Twice in 5 Weeks

Online Editors — Wed, 23 May 2012 08:49:50 -0400

An Alabama family’s first deep-sea fishing trip yielded a memorable sendoff for their military-bound son and produced the state’s second record king mackerel in five weeks when Matthew Borden boated this 69-pound, 10-ounce smoker May 6, one week before shipping out for a long-term Navy deployment.

Scientists Develop Robot Fish to Improve Pollution Monitoring

Online Editors — Tue, 22 May 2012 11:55:19 -0400

--Chad Love

Landing one of these babies is pretty much a catch-and-release-only proposition. I hear they're not good eating and extremely difficult to fillet. Not to mention the fact that they thrive in some pretty nasty water...

From this story on therepublic.com:
Robot "fish" developed by European scientists to improve pollution monitoring moved from the lab to the sea in a test at the northern Spanish port of Gijon on Tuesday. The developers hope the new technology, which reduces the time it takes to detect a pollutant from weeks to seconds, will sell to port authorities, water companies, aquariums and anyone with an interest in monitoring water quality...The fish, which are 1.5 meters (5 feet) long and currently cost 20,000 pounds ($31,600) each, are designed to swim like real fish and are fitted with sensors to pick up pollutants leaking from ships or undersea pipelines. They swim independently, co-ordinate with each other, and transmit their readings back to a shore station up to a kilometer away.

So, if they can make robot fish to do this, why can't they make one that chases down and takes a lure, then fights like whatever gamefish has been programmed into its brain? Say you've never caught a bluefin tuna and probably won't ever get the chance, because they're doomed -- instead, you could charter a trip to "catch" robot bluefin.

Who knows, maybe in a few years we might not even need real fish in the oceans anymore, what with their annoying and expensive requirements for clean water and a suitable environment. Now we can repeal all our water quality and anti-pollution laws and start cranking out loads of these suckers, 'cause they'll live anywhere...

The CatchFeed: 50 Top Photos from Catchbook, Field & Stream's New Social Fishing App

Dave_Maccar — Thu, 17 May 2012 12:43:40 -0400

These 50 photos are our editors' picks for the best shots posted so far by users of our new Catchbook app!

About Catchbook Fishing Reports
Catchbook is a free social fishing app we built for the iPhone to help you share photos of your fish while recording the spots where you caught them. Check out more great fish photos from around the country (and start posting your own catches) by downloading the app from iTunes! Visit fieldandstream.com/catchbook for details on how the app works, and why it'll help you catch more fish.

Catchbook Photo Contest
We're giving away a Columbia PFG Blood and Guts™ Ball Cap, for the best photo posted each week (as chosen by our editors) from now until then end of July. At the end of each month we'll pick our favorite overall shot and run it in the magazine! Each monthly winner will also receive a Columbia Airgill Chill™ Long Sleeve (men) or Ultimate Chill™ Long Sleeve (women). Click here to learn how you can enter this contest. Click here for the official rules.

Great White Shark Flips, Chomps Angler's Kayak

Online Editors — Wed, 16 May 2012 13:11:51 -0400

--Chad Love

Kayak fishing and kayak duck hunting are things I've really wanted to get into for a while now. I even have dreams of taking my own do-it-yourself kayak fishing trip to the Florida Keys, Baja California, or some other storied saltwater destination. On the other hand, maybe I'll just stick to freshwater kayaking, because something like this would inevitably happen to me, and then I'd have to spend the rest of my life wearing Depends and going to therapy.

From this story on sanluisobispo.com:
Joey Nocchi, 30, of Paso Robles, had the big-fish tale to tell, after his kayak was upended and bitten by a great white shark. Nocchi and friends James Byon of Paso Robles and Matt Kerschke of Los Osos were fishing for rockfish at 1:30 p.m. Saturday near Leffingwell Landing off Moonstone Beach. “We’d just about limited out on rock cod, and Matt caught two halibut,” Nocchi said. “We were cruising along together and talking.” He was reaching for his knife when “I got hit from underneath and started coming up out of the water. My buddies said I came out of the water 4 to 5 feet — it flipped me over the side.

The shark rolled the whole kayak over, rolled me out of it, and he went over the top of it. He swam across me — his tail touched me.” His friends estimated the shark was 12 feet to 14 feet long.

Nocchi said he managed to get back on the upside-down, badly listing kayak and paddle back to shore. He says he'll be bass fishing and staying out of the ocean for a while. Good plan...

The Greatest Lesson in Fishing Streamers

Online Editors — Wed, 16 May 2012 10:13:53 -0400

by Kirk Deeter

Most of you who follow FlyTalk might realize by now that Romano and I are both shameless streamer junkies. We'll pound the banks from a boat, trying to turn big fish with blind casts, but we also like to wade and sight-fish streamers in low, clear water. Big flies catch big fish, to be sure. Yet in clear water, you have to make the right presentation for streamers to work well. While I've learned many valuable tips from streamer gurus like Kelly Galloup, who said, "You have to dictate the action, and not wait for something to happen," the greatest streamer lesson I ever learned didn't happen on a trout river, and it didn't even involve a true streamer fly.

I was fishing on Biscayne Bay in Florida with legendary flats guide Bill Curtis about 10 years ago. Bill was on the poling platform and I was standing on the bow, when a big permit that looked like an aluminum trash can lid gliding through skinny water came cruising into view. Without a word spoken by either of us, I locked my eyes on the fish and unfurled what I thought was the perfect cast: A water-loaded beauty that formed a tight loop, rocketed 60 feet through the air, turned the leader over, and plopped just a foot or two ahead of the fish. The crab fly landed exactly on the money, or at least where I wanted it to drop.

The permit didn't spook at first, but as I started making gentle strips, lightly bouncing the fly into the feeding zone, it abruptly finned away.

By the time the fish split, Bill was already climbing off the poling platform, grumbling unmentionables under his breath. Having thought I made the perfect cast, I was crestfallen but willing to rationalize the episode via all I had heard about the notoriously fickle nature of permit. Still, on impulse, I asked aloud, "What in the heck happened? What went wrong?"

Bill looked me straight in the eye and deadpanned, "Fish like that aren't used to bait attacking them."

Then he sat down behind the steering wheel, cranked up the boat motor and didn't say another word. I let it sink in for a moment and then realized that I had been taught the greatest lesson that can ever be learned about catching wily, predatory fish with large flies; by a master in as few words as humanly possible.

Think about it and apply this reasoning to the trout world. Little, finicky trout like to sip helplessly-floating nymphs and dry flies -- they demand to be "spoon fed." But when they get big, they go after other fish. They also get smart, so when something swims toward their mouth, they don't typically eat it.

Learn to drop streamers where trout can see them, and then immediately make those flies look like they're panicked and fleeing. It's a simple concept that's easier said than done. But if you figure that deal out, I guarantee you'll unlock the secret to catching more and bigger trout, in any conditions.

Our 20 Coolest and Strangest Fish Stories

Online Editors — Thu, 10 May 2012 14:05:51 -0400

The Best F&S Online Record Fish Stories and Photos

Online Editors — Tue, 08 May 2012 11:57:23 -0400

Video: The Strangest Fish Ever?

Online Editors — Mon, 07 May 2012 09:45:10 -0400

by Tim Romano

You know I love to share some weirdness on Fly Talk every once in a while that has nothing to do with fly fishing. This is one of those times. You're either gonna love me or be a little grossed out with this one.

Click the video above and check out one of the strangest fish behaviors I've ever heard of. Thanks, BBC and cameraman Richard Fitzpatrick for explaining this one. Enjoy, or maybe not…

Catchbook Contest: Photo of the Week!

Dave_Maccar — Thu, 03 May 2012 14:41:44 -0400

Congratulations to Austin Bockwinkel, whose spring Iowa largemouth bass takes top prize in our weekly Catchbook Photo Contest! Austin gets a PFG Blood and Guts™ Ball Cap from Columbia, and also qualifies to win our monthly prize, a Columbia Airgill Chill™ Long Sleeve fishing shirt and his mug in the pages of our magazine. Click here to learn how you can enter this contest by. Click here for the official rules.

Catchbook is a new fishing app for the iPhone that automatically turns photos of fish you've caught into detailed fishing journal entries that show up on your map, then shares those entries exclusively with trusted friends. Our goal is to help you and your buddies learn more about the spots you fish. You can download the app from iTunes here.

Holy Mackerel: 2nd-Grader Hooks 68 lb. King Fish

Dave_Maccar — Wed, 02 May 2012 10:10:38 -0400

Andrew Quinn, a spirited Michigan second-grader who wrestles in the 77-pound weight class at his school, is no stranger to grappling with heavyweight foes.

But even Andrew almost met his match when he hooked this 5-foot king mackerel during a deep sea fishing trip in the Gulf of Mexico in late March. At the end of a 30-minute fight, Andrew had just enough strength left to boat the giant king, which weighed 68 pounds, 3 ounces—a touch lighter than Andrew but 4 ounces heavier than the current Alabama state record.

The 50 Best Field & Stream Reader Photos from April 2012

Dave_Maccar — Wed, 02 May 2012 09:25:49 -0400

Each month, Field & Stream editors review the hundreds of photos submitted by readers to our Trophy Room. If your photo is chosen to be printed in the Game Faces section of the magazine, you’ll win a Rapala Fish ‘N Fillet knife!

Submit your photos here!

Here are the other best reader photo collections from this year:

January 2012

February 2012

March 2012

Operation Thresher: Fishing for Monster Sharks off The Shores of Rhode Island

Online Editors — Wed, 25 Apr 2012 11:41:55 -0400

Mick Chivers lowered the rod as the gaff struck the bluefish and his brother Jack swung the fish over the gunwale. It was a nice fish—about a 6-pounder—good both for the table and for light-tackle game. Using spinning tackle, Mick, who is 9, had hooked the fish on a popper in about 15 feet of water. The fish had run, circled the boat, and leapt twice. Now it was headed for ice. Except that in Mick’s mind, there remained a step.

“Bleed it,” he said.

On this day I served as both skipper and mate for sons who soon will do these things for me. I took the knife from the bait table and made a series of quick cuts. As the blood began to rush, I put the fish nose down into a bucket.

We had been thick into a school of feeding blues for almost an hour. Mick and Jack, 11, had boated nearly 10 fish, keeping me busy in the best kind of way. The cooler was heavy with meat. The blood in the bucket was already 2 or 3 inches deep.

Why would three guys in a boat busy with fish add a step like this?

The answer could begin in many places. But it certainly does not begin here, on this early August evening off Point Judith, R.I., as we harvested blues. It’s better told from an October three years before, and a journey to catch a shark.

Guest of Honor
Capt. Bill Brown, skipper of the Billfish and one of the country’s better-known shark-chasing charter captains, surveyed the Atlantic horizon from under the T‑top of my boat. Brown trained decades ago as a Navy pilot, and though he was 61 years old on this cool fall morning offshore, he retained a visual acuity no one in the day’s four-man crew could match. We were roughly 65 miles out, rising and falling on a light swell, near the edge of the temperature break near Jenny’s Horn, a jagged edge on the 30-fathom contour line. The green-sea-meets-blue-gray-sky horizon seemed blank to the rest of us. But not to the guest captain.

“There,” he said. “Boat.”

We squinted toward where his blue eyes were locked. Nothing.

“Head over there,” he said.

I pushed the dual throttles forward. The boat rose onto plane and began to rush forward, heading, it seemed, farther into the nothingness. After a mile the outline of a white sportfishing boat began to take shape. Then more. The boats were clustered around a pair of trawlers hauling back their nets. Several minutes later, I eased back on the throttles. Our 26-foot center console settled softly into the swell, well short of the bobbing pack. The day’s sharking tutorial was about to begin.

How Brown ended up on this boat is something of a story in itself. Brown is a generous soul, and as a former Navy officer he had made something of a personal goal in training one Air Force veteran of the Iraq wars to be a shark fisherman. That fisherman was Mike Perra, whom I met on assignment for this magazine. Perra in turn introduced me to Brown, who learned I was in the process of buying and outfitting a saltwater fishing boat to use as a personal sanctuary, meat-gathering machine, and family classroom. The boat was to be a workhorse that could do many things—a heavy hull with a deep-V that could make the run offshore but also fish in tight, giving my sons a chance to learn everything from drifting for fluke and chasing 11-inch scup on inshore rock piles to setting up in the canyons and trying for tuna, marlin, mahimahi, swordfish, and shark. Its limits would be set by our skills and desires, not by the boat.

In early 2008, as the boat was being built, Brown gave me a call with suggestions for customizing the vessel to be more effective—and safer. Brown listened to my thinking, rooted in what I had learned in the infantry: build in redundancy. The boat would be outfitted with extra batteries, dual engines, dual two-way radios, and GPS antennas and screens. Life jackets would be fitted with lights triggered by -water-activated switches. A buoyant ditch bag—to go over the gunwale with the crew were the boat ever lost—would carry a floating handheld radio, a first-aid kit, and an EPIRB locator beacon. And the boat would have radar—essential for fishing seas prone to swift weather changes and enveloping fogs; the more so for avoiding collisions with shipping traffic and while passing through the narrow entrances in the seawalls at Harbor of Refuge, where the boat would be slipped.

To this planning, Brown added a guiding thought: “Going to sea,” he said, “can be like going to space.” What he meant was that when something goes wrong, the elements turn harsh and unforgiving fast, and you should expect there to be nothing to help you except what you brought. Fresh water, tools, lines, food, bandages—-anything you might need could come only from your foresight. The sea as the cosmos? An exaggeration, for sure. But it was worth thinking of when running a boat at night on the open water, as I intended to do, because that is when striped bass feed best.

As we talked, Brown offered to guide a crew and me on an instructional offshore trip. He would come aboard as guest skipper, and watch over my shoulder, offering advice while we worked. He knew I had fished inshore, and had found my way around many of the rocks where striped bass stack. He also knew that venturing out—to the East Grounds, to Coxes Ledge, to the Acid Barge and beyond, toward the undersea canyons at the submerged continent’s edge—was another matter. He promised to demonstrate tricks for bringing large oceanic fish to the rail, and coach habits that make such trips possible in a small boat. Soon we were looking for crew.

The first pick was automatic: Mike Perra, the explosive ordnance disposal supervisor who lived nearby. Next was Tommy Frye, a carpenter friend who is also an obsessed fisherman and part-time mate out of Block Island. A former kickboxer, strong and fit in his 50s, he had picked up a nickname from his carpenter friends that suggested he would be ideal for wrestling big fish: “Silverback.” Rounding out the crew would be Tyler Hicks, the New York Times combat photographer who is my regular reporting partner, and who had taken up saltwater fishing with a passion.

Before the trip, Brown had given me an assignment: catch bluefish and have them iced on the boat. The day before, Jack, Mick, and I headed out to Block Island’s North Rip and trolled back and forth along the bar. But our luck was such that striped bass were thick that day. They kept jumping on before any blues struck. This created an unusual fishing scene: of a father and two sons grousing at excellent striper fishing, asking the seas for a run of blues. No bluefish came aboard that day. The next day at dawn we left the dock with only a few bluefish fillets Perra had brought from Massachusetts. To this we added buckets of bunker chum, flats of frozen butterfish, boxes of squid, and jugs of bunker oil. Perra had also brought along one of a shark fisherman’s mojo baits—a jug of bluefish blood he’d gathered himself, shot by shot, by bleeding blues as he hauled them in over the previous weeks. Brown was not quite content, and we stopped a short distance off the coast and briefly trolled a wire-line rig and picked up a midsize blue for fresh bait. Then we powered up and headed out.

Brown had sat around a table with us the night before and logged on to a satellite service that showed ocean surface temperatures offshore. He marked a spot of warmer water—almost 70 degrees. We arrived near the break after a three-hour open-ocean run.

The presence of trawlers merited a stop. As the big vessels’ crews hauled back the nets and the fishermen aboard sorted the contents, they tossed back the by-catch—the nonmarketable species. This created two long slicks of food trailing downtide from their sterns. Many species of offshore fish are opportunists. Like seagulls, rats, or bears, they are attuned to the habits of man. The open-ocean water column can be barren, and the sound of draggers sorting catch—the whine and grind of the winches retrieving the nets, and diesel thrum of idling engines—can be a meal bell for sharks and tuna, which will rush the boat from afar to feed from the discards as they are shoveled over the side. Would these draggers toll in sharks? Brown watched as other boats edged in tight, dunking heavy baits into the slick with thick rods and reels the size of mason jars. He looked into the water, which was clear and a shade bluer than the inshore green. He reached into the bait box, tossed over a dead squid, and watched it drift away quickly. The tide was moving fast.

He had a better idea. In a crowd, he knew, a boat needs to create its advantage. He told me to drive off about three-fourths of a mile and stop. Then he lifted a heavy bucket, riddled with drilled holes. Inside was a log of frozen bunker chum. He lowered the bucket into the water, lashed it to a stern cleat, and told me to drive back slowly toward the slick.

This was Lesson One: the drag bucket.

If there were sharks in the area, they would be moving toward those draggers. Brown had a plan to deceive them. As the bucket trailed the boat, the warm seawater was thawing the frozen chum, which leaked through the holes. We were making our own long slick, a drapery of blood and fish oil that grew as we moved. I steered the boat perpendicular to the draggers’ by-catch slicks, crossed them, and continued on for another third of a mile. Now any shark approaching the draggers from their sterns, and seeking a slick, would encounter ours, which led to our boat. As I cut the engines, Brown was already rigging three rods with Penn 80s loaded with 100-pound-test. For terminal tackle, Perra had attached a piece of 600-pound mono to an 8/0 600-pound swivel to 460-pound 7x7 stainless-steel cable to another swivel followed by 400-pound steel wire to a 14/0 hook attached with a haywire twist. Brown rigged each rod with its bait. The first held a whole bluefish, the second a bluefish fillet, and the last a whole bunker. Each was suspended beneath a party balloon, which he let out downtide. Each reel was in free spool, with only its clicker on.

A seagull landed beside the boat and paddled alongside. Optimism? Maybe. But Brown was of a practical mind. “If we don’t catch something within an hour,” he said, “let’s go.”

Shark On
It didn’t take long. After a few minutes one of the reels began to squeal. Something had taken the whole bluefish and was running off. Whatever it was, it was strong and fast. It had picked up an 8-pound fish and was propelling itself away at a clip. Brown gingerly lifted the rod from its holder as more line peeled away.

“Who wants this fish?” he asked.

Frye took the rod, keeping its tip low and pointed toward the fish. Three species were the most likely predators here: blue sharks, threshers, and makos. Threshers have small mouths. It’s best to let them carry a large bait for a while, so they have time to take it in. Frye waited. Several seconds passed. The fish stopped. Frye hauled back, hoping to drive the hook home. Nothing was there.

The fish had dropped the bait.

Frye reeled in the bluefish and examined it. It had a crescent of small bite marks. “Thresher,” Brown said. “Anything else would have mangled it.”

The fish had slipped off ahead of the hookset, but Brown had made his point. There were several boats around, fishing conventionally. None had any action. Brown had coaxed a fish toward his baits in minutes. Never mind the popular impression that shark fishing is simply letting blood and fish oil call in the beasts. There was something more to this.

A Turn For the Worse
The fishing went quiet after the first strike. After an hour, Brown had us move off toward the temperature break, where we set up again the same way—absent the draggers. Perra and Frye took turns ladling chum over the side and cutting butterfish into nickel-size chunks and flicking them over. As we drifted on the tide, the day took its own direction. To the west, low on the water, the sky turned a dark gray, leaning toward black. A lower ridge of clouds, white and swirling, formed a leading edge. The sea was calm. But we knew what this meant. “Let’s get those lines in fast,” Brown said. We were about to get slammed.

To the north, a larger vessel was visible, perhaps a 35-footer with a low tuna tower. It was powering up, too, and about to dash. We knew our boat would be faster before the seas slowed us, and that we could tuck in behind her and be available to help each other. The bigger vessel could also break the waves, making it easier for our smaller craft to keep headway in what would soon be steep, snotty seas. “Follow that boat,” Brown said.

But it was impossible. As the leading edge of clouds overtook us, the wind switched on at a gale. Sheets of rain came a minute or two behind. Sea smoke—formed when cold air drifts across warm water—swirled. Water lashed by sideways and pelting. Visibility shrank to perhaps 200 feet. And the seas climbed. The conditions rendered the radar useless. Even when we adjusted the clutter settings, fighting to steer and use the electronics at once, it read the air around us as a solid band of water. Judging from the picture, we might as well have been in a hole, and there was no chance of finding the boat ahead and vectoring toward it. The boat had vanished. We were alone. My mind flashed through the inventory as the bow slammed into a building wave. Sixty-five miles out: life jackets, flares, water, first-aid kit, emergency beacon, and floating radio. Solid crew. Luck. Had we packed luck?

Brown’s bright eyes sparkled, mixing wonder and concern.

For almost two hours we pushed north, rising, falling, moving slow. The spray lashed us. Hicks, Perra, and Frye huddled on the deck, and Brown and I stood at the helm. The storm moved east as we traveled, and slowly we came out of its grip and into the light. The wind died as we pulled away. Fortunately there was no lightning. We emerged to rough seas but manageable winds, and as it grew safer we accelerated. Three hours later we could see the outline of Block Island, and passed it by our right bow. We were drenched, stiff, and cold. But safe. Time for the dock. We came to an idle, and dumped over the extra chum, food for the crabs and gulls. With the engines quiet, we huddled and checked on one another, shaking heads at a trip stopped in a moment by a backdoor squall.

“Sea smoke?” Brown said. “You don’t get that very often.”

Lesson Two was intact: A small boat taking trips like these should have a weather radar service. That storm had not been in the forecast and there had been no warning of it over the radio as we fished. (The boat now has the service, which displays moving storms on the screen.)

Sharkers In Training
Lessons logged away, Hicks and I soon headed back to Afghanistan for work, leaving the rest of the fall fishing to Brown, Perra, and Frye. We all resumed our normal lives. And yet one trip can inform others in strange ways, because if accounts of large fish slipping the hook serve any purposes, then one of them is this: to inspire fishermen to return to the water, filled with ideas and hopes.

Jack and Mick had sat at our kitchen table the night before we departed offshore, and had listened to Capt. Brown talk about the sharks a few hours’ steam beyond the break walls. That was hours after they had chased bluefish with hopes of filling the bait cooler. And they had seen us return the next evening: soaked, cold, tired, walking slowly but talking fast. They were younger that day—aged only 8 and 6—too young for a journey toward the canyons in a 26-foot open boat, too young to put the brakes to fish that could weigh several hundred pounds. Their time offshore was yet to come, and in any event there would be no more chances to chase a mako or thresher that fall. But since that evening the boys have been preparing. When work allows me to be home in summer, and the blues turn up in schools and start hammering plugs off Point Judith, no fish can come aboard without the command, unprompted and eager, from one of the crew: “Bleed it, Dad.” And that is just a part of it. Each trip to the rips to haul bass, each drift over the deep rocks inside the Hooter Buoy, each night jigging squid at anchor on Nebraska Shoal, and each of the journeys back to port, with me at the helm and Jack and Mick standing in the bow on lookout as we thrum slowly through an all but impenetrable fog, each time, in other words, when we fish, they ask: When will you take us for shark?

Operation Thresher: Fishing for Monster Sharks off The Shores of Rhode Island

Online Editors — Wed, 25 Apr 2012 11:41:55 -0400

“Bleed it,” he said.

Why would three guys in a boat busy with fish add a step like this?

“There,” he said. “Boat.”

We squinted toward where his blue eyes were locked. Nothing.

“Head over there,” he said.

This was Lesson One: the drag bucket.

A seagull landed beside the boat and paddled alongside. Optimism? Maybe. But Brown was of a practical mind. “If we don’t catch something within an hour,” he said, “let’s go.”

“Who wants this fish?” he asked.

The fish had dropped the bait.

Frye reeled in the bluefish and examined it. It had a crescent of small bite marks. “Thresher,” Brown said. “Anything else would have mangled it.”

Brown’s bright eyes sparkled, mixing wonder and concern.

“Sea smoke?” Brown said. “You don’t get that very often.”

Catchbook Contest: Photo of the Week!

Dave_Maccar — Tue, 24 Apr 2012 15:21:10 -0400

Congratulations to Connor Brazell, who's early-season pike photo takes top prize in our weekly Catchbook Photo Contest! Connor gets a PFG Blood and Guts™ Ball Cap from Columbia, and also qualifies to win our monthly prize, a Columbia Airgill Chill™ Long Sleeve fishing shirt and his mug in the pages of our magazine. Click here to learn how you can enter this contest by. Click here for the official rules.

Conservation Update: The Oil Stopped Two Years Ago, but the Spill Continues

Online Editors — Thu, 12 Apr 2012 14:43:53 -0400

by Bob Marshall

In the coming weeks, media groups will be publishing and broadcasting special reports marking the second anniversary of the start of the Deepwater Horizon oil spill. But what Ryan Lambert and other Louisiana coastal sportsmen and guides want the nation to know is that the spill isn't over.

"The oil and gas might have stopped flowing, but the spill is still going on for us," said Lambert, who runs Cajun Fishing Adventures in Buras, La. "We're still seeing the impacts every day.

"My fishing business is still way down. We still see some (isolated) patches of oil, some tar balls on the beach, some dead birds and dolphins.

"BP likes to say they made it all right. The spill is over. Everything is cleaned up. They're wrong. It's not over, and it probably won't be over for years. And that's when we'll finally know how much damage it did."

That was also the signature message from the National Wildlife Federation as the group issued a report highlighted by grades given to the health of key components of the coastal ecosystem two years after the spill.

The group was careful to explain that assessing the impacts of the oil after two years was difficult for several reasons: Louisiana's coast was already decaying due to a variety of human cause, many of the species being monitored may not show impacts for several years, and most of the assessments being done by government agencies are being withheld from the public for now because they are part of a legal process to determine how much the responsible parties will be charged.

But slides of recent trips to one of the heavily oiled marshes that had been declared "clean" left no doubt the oil was still there. The viscous black liquid often oozed into the foot prints left by visitors. Other areas showed long tar-like mats of congealed oil.

While such evidence is certainly the exception on the state's coast, the project shows just how resilient the oil has been in the face of clean-up efforts - and how important it is that Congress make sure BP makes enough money available for clean-up to continue for many years.

None of this will be a surprise to Alaskans. Twenty years after that disaster, oil is still present and doing damage in Prince Williams Sounds, as the state's report found.

Jose Wejebe's Memorial Service to be Held at IGFA Museum

Online Editors — Wed, 11 Apr 2012 10:49:00 -0400

--Chad Love

In the wake of fishing icon Jose Wejebe's death in a plane crash, the IGFA has planned a memorial.

From the IGFA website:

The fishing community has lost a great angler, icon, and friend. We are deeply saddened by the untimely passing of Jose Wejebe, host of the immensely popular saltwater fishing and fly fishing television show Spanish Fly on the Outdoor Channel. Through his show and his adventures he shared a passion for fishing that touched and inspired anglers around the world.

We would like to invite all family and friends to a Celebration of Life in honor of Jose Wejebe, Sunday April 15, 2012 at 1:30 PM at the IGFA Fishing Hall of Fame & Museum in Dania, Beach Florida. All those who were touched by Jose are welcome to attend.  Further information and updates will be available shortly at www.spanishflytv.com, as well as on our Facebook page.

15 Reasons an Early Spring Makes Fishing More Difficult (And How To Catch Fish Anyway)

Dave_Maccar — Wed, 11 Apr 2012 09:16:26 -0400

Spring has sprung. Actually, it sprang a month ago in much of the country. With the unusual weather pattern setting record-high temperatures on a near-weekly basis, many of you are no doubt scratching your heads and asking, what’s this going to do to the fishing?

The 50 Best Field & Stream Reader Photos from March 2012

Dave_Maccar — Thu, 05 Apr 2012 15:00:43 -0400

Submit your photos here!

Here are the other best reader photo collections from this year:

January 2012

February 2012

Catchbook Fishing Reports: A Social Fishing App from the Editors of Field & Stream

Online Editors — Thu, 05 Apr 2012 14:37:45 -0400

If you're an angler, you know that keeping a detailed journal of your time on the water is one of the best ways to up your catch rate. That's because, over time, your journal will show you patterns in when and where fish bite, and what lures and baits work best under different conditions. The more detailed your journal is, the more of these patterns you'll see. But keeping a detailed journal requires time and dedication that most anglers can't afford.

Not anymore. Field & Stream's FREE new Catchbook app, just released on the iPhone, is designed to take all the work out of keeping a fishing journal. The app does this by taking photos of fish you've already shot with your phone and automatically converting them into detailed fishing reports that include the weather and water conditions present when those photos were taken. The app pins each report to a map, then lets you share them exclusively with trusted friends and fishing buddies. The more friends you have, the more reports you see on your map, and the easier it becomes to pattern your spots!

Our editorial team has been working for nearly half a year on the project, and it finally launched last week. Now we're looking for feedback from the people we designed it for. You! If there are bugs, we want to know about them. If there's something you think we can improve, we want to know what that is. And if you love something we've done? We want to know that, too.

We'll incorporate your comments into updates to the app, which we're planning to roll out regularly. You can give us your feedback by commenting on this post, or within a new "Catchbook" category in our online Answers section. And, right now, exclusively for readers of this site (and for a limited time only) if you sign up and request user "Field & Stream" as a friend within the app, we'll add 5,000 points to your F&S Online username.

Click here to view the app in the iTunes store, or follow the jump for more details on how Catchbook works. Thanks for checking it out! -- The Editors

POST YOUR PHOTOS
Catchbook lets you turn any fish photo you’ve ever taken with your iPhone into a detailed journal entry that includes the time, date, location, and weather present when you caught each fish. Upload your old fish photos to get started, then make sure to snap away with your camera the next time you’re out on the water. Add records to your journal by choosing the photos you want to upload and telling us the species of fish in each photo. The app does the rest! Add optional information (such as the size and color lure you were using) to create even more detailed records to share with your friends.

POOL YOUR RECORDS
The more friends you invite into Catchbook, the more catches you’ll see on your map. And the more catches you see, the easier it will be for you to pattern your spots. Inviting friends is easy. Invite people you’re already friends with on Facebook, or send your fishing buddies invites by email. You can also find new people to fish with by searching for other Catchbook users who fish in the same places you do.

PATTERN YOUR SPOTS
Every time you (or one of your friends) posts a photo to Catchbook, that photo gets pinned to a spot on your map. Filter your map to show only fish caught at specific times of the year, at different times of the day, under specific weather conditions and water temps, and much, much more! You’ll quickly see patterns in which spots work best under different conditions. Then use the app’s “Best Baits” features to learn which flies, lures, and baits caught the most fish under the conditions and areas you’ve selected.

Map filtering options include:
-- Fish species and fish size
-- Time of year and time of day
-- Moon phase
-- Wind speed and direction
-- Water temperature, water clarity, lake/river level, and tidal stage
-- Barometric pressure and barometric trend
-- Air temperature, cloud cover, and precipitation type

WATCH CATCHES IN REAL TIME
Keep an eye on what people are catching around the country by clicking on the “Catches” tab. You’ll see all the latest fish entered into Catchbook (photos only — no spot burning here).

SEE WHERE YOU RANK!
Find your name in a list of top users by species.

683 lb. Keys Swordfish Won't Qualify for Record

Online Editors — Thu, 05 Apr 2012 10:41:48 -0400

--Chad Love

A giant swordfish was recently caught in the Florida Keys, but it won't qualify for any records because the 683-pound monster was caught on an electric reel.

From this story on keysnet.com:

Another mammoth daytime swordfish -- 683 pounds -- has been caught off the Florida Keys. Fishing on the Mystique, a 61-foot Viking owned by Katherine MacMillan, Marathon captain Billy Rabito Jr. presided over the catch of the broadbill hooked some 30 miles to the south of Marathon Tuesday afternoon. The fish bit a whole 5-pound bonito hooked to 80-pound braid, spooled on an electric Shimano Tiagra reel. Mike Driskell, the boat's mate who lives on Little Torch Key, manned the reel. It was weighed on a scale, recently certified by the International Game Fish Association and the state of Florida, according to Byron Goss, co-owner of Big Time Bait & Tackle in Marathon, who witnessed the weigh-in at Key Colony Beach Marina. About 150 spectators, who gathered for the weigh-in, were treated to complimentary fresh swordfish steaks, Rabito said.

Rabito said it took about two hours to bring the big broadbill to the boat and additional time to get the fish onboard through the boat's large transom tuna door with the aid of an anchor windlass. Everyone on the boat, including MacMillan, helped to get the swordfish into the cockpit. "I feel blessed to have hooked that fish, keep it hooked and get it to the boat," said Rabito, a second-generation Keys captain who has been fishing professionally for the past 22 years. "Daytime fish can often come unhooked, so it's the opportunity of a lifetime." Rabito's swordfish won't qualify for either a state or IGFA record because it was caught on an electric reel. Thus a 612.75-pound broadbill caught off Key Largo at night May 7, 1978, will continue to be the official state record, according to the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission data.

8-Year-Old Catches Alabama-Record King Mackerel, Must Share Title with Smaller Fish

Online Editors — Tue, 03 Apr 2012 09:59:21 -0400

--Chad Love

So an eight-year-old boy goes fishing...and you know what's coming next, right?

From this story on mlive.com:

While king mackerel fishing in Alabama over spring break last Wednesday, Andrew Quinn, 8, of Scottville, thought he latched onto something with a little more bite to it. "When I had it on, I thought it was a shark," Quinn said. Quinn, fishing with Fish Trap Charters in Alabama with his grandfather, father and three brothers, was just about out of energy from his half-hour fight, then the fish came next to the boat. It was a 68-pound, three ounce king mackerel, a fish that was longer than Quinn is tall. ...

"We realized it was a big fish, but we didn't know the different species and their sizes," Andrew's dad, Dave Quinn said. "The captain could tell it was a king mackerel, and they knew it was bigger than anything they'd ever seen." Big it was. After the weight was taken, it was the biggest king mackerel recorded in Alabama state history. Due to an Alabama rule though, a fish can’t beat the current record-holder unless it outweighs it by .5 percent. Andrew’s fish fell short by 1.5 ounces, so he now shares the honor with Mobile's Michael Kirchler, who's held the record since 2002 with a catch of 67 pounds, 15 ounces.

Really? The state of Alabama is going to deny little Andrew Quinn the record because of a silly rule like that? His fish was bigger, period. I say give the kid the record. He's earned it.

X-Ray Fish Photos: 41 Incredible Shots From the Smithsonian Institute

Sarah Smith — Thu, 29 Mar 2012 17:44:31 -0400

X-ray Vision: Fish Inside Out, organized by the Smithsonian’s National Museum of Natural History and the Smithsonian Institution Traveling Exhibition Service (SITES), is an exhibit traveling to museums across the country through 2015. Visit www.sites.si.edu/exhibitions/exhibits/ichthyo/index.htm for the tour itinerary.

SHARK!: A Preview of an Artistic Tribute To The Ancient Apex Predators of the Deep

Sarah Smith — Thu, 15 Mar 2012 16:07:05 -0400

Millennia before humans first appeared on this planet, sharks were cutting their way through Earth's seas. They come in all shapes and sizes and are found in every ocean in the world as well as in many rivers and lakes.

A major multimedia art exhibition, SHARK!, organized by the Ft. Lauderdale Museum of Art and curated by acclaimed wildlife artist, author and environmentalist Richard Ellis, brings together art and science in documenting the fascination people have with these apex predators of the sea. In addition to drawings and paintings, the exhibition contains photos, sculptures, and video as well as a section devoted to the sensational impact of the 1975 film Jaws.

Ellis was good enough to give us these photos of pieces from the exhibition as a sneak peak. SHARK! opens on May 13.

For more information on the exhibit, click here.

The 45 Best Field & Stream Reader Photos of February 2012

Dave_Maccar — Thu, 08 Mar 2012 10:46:15 -0500

Submit your photos here!

Here is the gallery of the best reader photos from January 2012.