That Dawg is Speckled
“You might be a little bit shorter by the time we get there, but I guarantee that there’s trout there,” Capt. Bruce Fields, who operates Flat Dawg Charters out of Carolina Beach, told us as Gary Hurley and I stowed the spinning rods we’d been casting toward a grass bank and held onto the T-top of Fields’ 24’ Carolina Skiff. Guiding the big skiff into a south wind that had created a tight chop on the Cape Fear River, Bruce whetted our appetites a bit more with tales of some of the sow trout he’s been catching over the past several months in the lower Cape Fear.
After a ten minute run that wasn’t nearly as bumpy as we anticipated (Bruce kept the boat in the lee of many of the grass islands flanking the Cape Fear’s shipping channel), the captain pulled the boat off plane and we slid up to his spot, a structure-filled area not far from Fort Fisher.
“You want to cast it just to the sides of the strongest current,” Bruce explained, handing us each a light spinning rod rigged with a sliding float. “Then, leave the bail open and feed it line so the float stands up instead of laying over on the surface.” The current generated by the falling tide created sets of standing waves on the river’s surface as it flowed over the structure, and Gary and I watched our floats dance over the waves attentively, waiting for a trout to pull one under.
Bruce met us at the boat ramp at the entrance to Snow’s Cut an hour earlier, a large cooler full of river water and live shrimp in the bow of his boat. Gary and I hopped aboard the boat eagerly, and we ventured into the river to search for trout. Our first spot, a grass point extending from the river’s west bank, produced a small puppy drum, but none of the trout we were searching for. Fields used the first spot as an opportunity to explain some of the basics of this type of fishing to us—how to hook one of the shrimp just beneath the horn atop its head so that it swims without dying, and not to set the hook too hard on a strike.
Our floats’ first few drifts through the current went uninterrupted by trout, but Bruce quickly reiterated something he’d told us while anchoring the boat. “We’re still a little early on the tide. Once it falls out a bit more, they’ll bite,” he said with confidence.
Sure enough, I let my attention to my float lapse for a short period of time, and when I looked back to where I’d last seen it, I couldn’t make it out. This had happened before, but each time my eyes found the float just before I would have set the hook. Now, reeling the slack out of the line and gently setting the hook, I was rewarded with the thumping run of a hooked fish. Bruce had his eyes on the bend in the rod, and seeing it bounce with the fish’s head shakes, he knew what I had.
“That’s a trout,” the captain said, reaching for one of the landing nets stowed beside the boat’s console. While he had the net in hand, the fish was still a long way from the boat, and apparently not too excited about coming closer, as it used the current to help pull some line off the reel. After a few moments, I was able to bring the fish nearer to the boat, and Bruce had the net waiting. The battle still wasn’t won, however, as the fish streaked away from the net each time I worked it close. Finally, the fourth time the trout came up; Bruce had the net waiting in perfect position and scooped the trout from the dark river water.
With the 2+ lb. trout flopping on the deck, the Flat Dawg’s guarantee had come true. After he pulled the treble hook from the trout’s mouth and we snapped a few pictures, Bruce asked if we were keeping any of the fish for the table. Without any fish in my refrigerator or freezer, my answer was an unequivocal yes. Bruce slid the fish into his livewell, and then handed me another live shrimp from the cooler up front.
The shrimp are one of the keys to success with the trout in late spring, according to Bruce. “These fish will not bite artificials this time of year,” he explained, adding some fresh water to the shrimp cooler. “I know because I’ve tried. I had one day where seven boats came up on me while I was catching fish. They all anchored in a line down the same bank I was fishing, but none of them had shrimp, and my guys were the only ones catching fish out of all of them.”
The constant motion of the shrimp’s legs as it swims is one of the keys to its attraction, Bruce feels. “I keep thinking about inventing a lure that’s got a watch battery in it to keep the legs moving,” he told us. “I think that one would work.”
Since live shrimp are only sporadically available to local anglers at bait shops (and generally quite expensive), Bruce doesn’t rely on stores to supply the precious shrimp—he has friends who trawl the river for shrimp and keep him in good supply. A 600 gallon tank at his house allows him to keep plenty on hand to cover many days fishing.
Anglers who fish shrimp need to bring plenty of them, too, because nearly every fish will eat a live shrimp, as Gary and I found out reeling in bait after bait that had been pecked by pinfish, scissored in half by the sharp teeth of a bluefish, or maligned by some other marine life.
The action slowed down for a short time after I landed that first trout, but as the tide continued to fall, the bite became steadier, just as Bruce had predicted. It was toward the end of another long drift that my float again slid beneath the surface. I reeled the considerable slack generated by the current out of the line and was again met by a strong pull. Just as the first fish had, this one betrayed its species with some sharp head shaking just after I hooked up.
After a nearly identical battle to the first, with the trout using the strong current to put up a hard struggle along with plenty of attempts to shake the hook free, I brought the fish to Bruce’s waiting net. This speck was just a bit larger than my first one, and after he freed the hook with a pair of pliers, Bruce slid the fish into the livewell along with the first trout.
With two trout and a drum to my credit and Hurley still waiting for his first bite, the boss was growing visibly anxious. After I posed for another photo with the second fish, Gary set the camera down and began casting again, clearly hoping to hook up before I had another strike.
Fortunately, before our working relationship sustained too much damage, Gary’s float sank and he lifted his rod tip, bowing up on what appeared to be yet another trout. His fish was even more adroit in using the current to its advantage, darting back and forth for several minutes before he could bring it to Bruce’s waiting net.
Gary now had an opportunity to pose with a fish, a larger trout that was easily in the 3 lb. class, and after the shutter snapped a few times, he elected to take it home as well, bringing the population of Bruce’s livewell up to three.
No matter how often I do it, float fishing never grows old to me. The unique anticipation that takes place while watching the float bob along and waiting for it to disappear can’t be provided by any other type of fishing. And, on top of that, a live shrimp beneath a slip float rig is easily the most effective way to target speckled trout under a wide variety of situations.
The slip float allows anglers to quickly adjust the depth the bait is presented, and a lively shrimp vertically dangled in front of a speckled trout is unlikely to be turned down. Additionally, when fished in an area with a reasonable current, the float rig allows anglers to “prospect” for fish by letting the float drift along with the tide, meaning anglers can cover much more water per cast.
“A couple feet of 30 lb. fluorocarbon leader, a #6 treble hook, swivel, egg weight, a couple of beads, and a float is all it is,” Bruce explained about his variation of the rig. He uses a 3/8-3/4 oz. weight (the weight depends on the size of the float—you want the float to stand vertically), and an adjustable bobber stop is tied to the line above the float. For the depths we fished, we had the floats adjusted to dangle the bait around 3’ deep, but sliding the stop up or down allows an instant depth adjustment.
After Gary boated his fish, I had several bites, but failed to connect with the fish. Pinfish and other bait harassers also became a problem, nipping the eyes and legs off the shrimp before our speckled quarry could find them. Although Bruce had come prepared with at least 100 shrimp, we were going through nearly a shrimp a cast, and the supply was running low.
When we were down to our last shrimp each, Gary launched a cast into the current and I saw his float disappear shortly after touching down in the current. After setting the hook and a quick battle, he landed another beautiful speck, a perfect buzzer fish.
With several trout in the boat in just a few short hours of fishing, Bruce’s guaranteed trout spot had come through big time. As we headed back north towards Snow’s Cut, Bruce pointed out at least a half-dozen more good places to find trout, drum, and flounder in the river. He’s a Carolina Beach native who’s been fishing the Cape Fear his entire life, and he’s kept a logbook of his fishing for years, so he’s got a pretty solid idea of where to look for fish under almost any conditions.
“Look for oyster beds, shell bottoms, and mud banks,” Fields recommends to inshore anglers looking for trout, flounder, and drum. “Your best bet is going to be to go out at dead low water and just look at the bottom. You want some deep water nearby, too, so the fish have a place to go during lower tides.”
Fields primarily targets red drum, flounder, and speckled trout around this time of year, and though we didn’t see a flounder on our trip, he’s already caught a number of them this year, meaning that an inshore grand slam (all three fish on the same day) is always a possibility.
If spending a relaxing day chasing inshore gamefish with a guide whose lifelong knowledge of the Cape Fear River and nearby waters becomes immediately apparent when you leave the dock, give the Flat Dawg, Capt. Bruce Fields, a call at (910) 228-8498 or visit him online at www.flatdawgcharters.com.
