Thursday, December 18, 2008
Kayak fishing offers hand-to-fin combat
Bill Cochran
Recent columns
Denis Adams releasing his 48-inch striper. p>
Dennis Adams was fishing a live eel for striped bass, letting it drift with the current along one of the nine partially sunken World War II vintage concrete ships that form a breakwater at Kitpopke State Park on Virginia’s Eastern Shore.
Adams, a 44-year old laser operator from Roanoke, is one of a new breed of kayak anglers. He has been at it for a year.
This was his first trip to the concrete ships, a favorite December target of kayakers because the aging structures can be a magnet to striped bass during their southern migration in the lower Chesapeake Bay. Some of the fish weigh more than 50 pounds.
“Yak” fishing, as it is called, just could be the fastest growing segment of angling in the nation. Adams estimated that there were a couple dozen other kayaks fishing the ships, including one manned by “Kayak” Kevin Whitley, a Virginia Beach paddler who has gained legend status in the movement.
It was a cold, black night, and Adams already had made the 5-mintue paddle back to his car one time to warm up, stretch his legs and put on more socks. At 9 p.m. he had returned to drift along the ships, using his paddle to poke at their rough exterior to keep close but not close enough to grate his sleek kayak.
Kayak anglers have the advantage of becoming the perfect predator by hovering alongside structure with extraordinary stealth, keeping their boat and bait in the ultimate spot to penetrate the lair of a big fish. Motor boats, bigger, bulkier and heavier, don’t do as well at this finesse fishing.
“I was just bobbing along -- in the groove -- and I feel what felt like my line and sinker dragging along the edge of a concrete step, so I said ‘Great, I’m going to be snagged up again.’ ”
But when Adams raised his rod he felt what he described as a “slow, swaying fluid motion.” No snag here: a fish!
“I set the hook and it was game on,” said Adams.
His 13.4-foot kayak, a Wilderness System Ride 136, suddenly became a sleigh pulled by a powerful, unseen foe.
“The fish took off, pulling my ride away from the ships into the darkness. I proceeded to putting the heat on this fish and it responded accordingly by flexing its muscles and near caused a 'turtle,' so I backed off the drag and used my thumb on the spool for fine drag control.”
A “turtle,” by the way, is what kayaker’s call a flip or capsize, not exactly what you want to experience in the black of a cold night when you are locked into a back alley brawl with a fish roughly one-third the length of your craft.
“I gained ground and could feel the fish coming up,” said Adams. “When it came to the surface for the first time, I wasn’t sure just what kind of fish I had. All I saw was a big, white fish coming up and then it decided that it didn’t want to be there and commenced to tail slapping me in the face with a big splash of water and took off again for the deep.”
Adams knew he needed help. He secured his fishing rod under his leg and got on the radio to call Whitley, who arrived just as Adams had subdued the fish. Whitley put the tape measure to it and verified the length to be 48 inches. A release citation in the Virginia Saltwater Fishing Tournament is a minimum of 44 inches.
After some pictures were taken, Adams relaxed his grip on the fish and watched it disappear into the depths.
While Adams and Whitley drove up the road to register the fish as a release citation at Chris’ Bait and Tackle, other kayak anglers stayed at the park and staged a tailgate party with music, food and lots of BS.
“I have never met any kayaker that was not friendly and outgoing, always willing to help -- but not give up any secret fishing holes,” said Adams.
