Reeling in my true satisfaction

This past Tuesday, I guided a relatively new member of the boating community to our waters and, in particular, to Spanish mackerel fishing. His name was Gary, and along with his friend Chuck, I showed them around our waters and, in the process, we caught some mega Spanish mackerel live-baiting on light tackle.

But the coolest part of the trip wasn’t the fish we caught. Rather, it was the kick I got watching the two of them totally grooving on being out in the ocean, encountering loggerhead turtles, watching massive container ships heading into Savannah and sitting in the middle of massive schools of menhaden with their silver backs flicking on the surface for as far as the eye could see. It was as if the heavens had dropped sparkling glitter on the water for miles on end.

If you think back to any of my articles, nearly every fishing picture I put in my columns has someone else holding up a fish, whether it be a redfish, mackerel, dolphin, wahoo or whatever. My forte is not so much reeling in fish, but rigging and finding the fish. Then, if a fish should hit, I almost always leave the reeling to others. But what really keeps me going is introducing new people I meet to the water world that is my true home.

Don’t get me wrong, I have reeled in some monsters over the years, but what excites me more than reeling is making sure the cockpit runs smoothly and the rigging is perfect.

Take blue-water fishing, for instance. Luckily, I had some excellent teachers growing up, and they taught me that the smallest tweaks can make a huge difference between catching and not catching. Is the drag on the reel set just right? Is the lure running straight?

For instance, when I am trolling, it’s amazing how I can reel in 3 feet of line and the lure runs through the water with twice the action it previously had. If you want to be really successful fishing, no matter the species, you need to always pay attention to conditions and fine-tune your approach to subtle differences such as wind, tides and waves as the day progresses.

A perfect example is when you are trolling baits in the Gulf Stream. Using the same rig, it will act completely differently if you are trolling into the waves versus running downsea.

As anyone who has fished with me knows, I can get pretty darn cantankerous in the cockpit if I notice something is not quite right. I pretty much stay in perpetual motion the entire day, changing out baits so they are always fresh and mixing up colors to see what works and what doesn’t. But one thing is certain: All that perseverance pays off.

If I were to give you three words of advice about rigging, they would be: “Less is best.”

So many fishermen have so much stuff on their rigs, it’s surprising a fish can find the hook. You know what I mean: beads, crimps, large silver snap swivels, leader material that could haul in a marlin and lead weights as big as your hand.

I won’t go as far as saying fish are very smart, but they are accustomed to eating critters that aren’t wearing gobs of bling. So it makes sense that the closer you can match their food source, the better your chances of getting a true trophy to grab your offering.

Another pet peeve of mine happens when anglers I fish with feel they need to rip the face off a fish when it bites. Frankly, I think they have watched too many freshwater bass fishing shows. The only two fish around here that require that approach are sheepshead and tarpon. But for all the others, simply reel, and your hook-up ratio will improve tenfold.

Since I am on the subject of pet peeves, another would have to be lifting a hooked fish out of the water with your rod. Why? The rod is bent double and acts like a spring stretched to its limit.

So what happens if the fish shakes loose from the hook? You got it. The hook flies through the air, and sooner or later you’ll find yourself in the emergency room with a hook impaled in your hand or another body part.

Believe me on this one because I am talking from firsthand experience. (And secondhand and thirdhand, and ...)

So there you have it: Collins doesn’t reel in fish. Even if I happen to be holding a rod when a whopper hits, I can’t hand the rod off to whoever is beside me quickly enough.

My back has a lot to do with it, but reeling in fish is just not my thing. My true love is the art of rigging and figuring out how to get the most out of different ocean conditions.

Even more so, I love introducing new folks to my world of water. Almost without fail, except for a possible bout with seasickness, they are totally hooked after that first trip.

I get a big kick out of watching newbies grunt and groan after I hand off a rod attached to a big fish. It might take a day for them to recuperate after a daylong adventure on the ocean, but usually the greatest satisfaction I get comes when my phone rings and the 70-year-old man I guided thanks me with the voice and enthusiasm of a 14-year-old.

Now that’s life at its best!

Collins Doughtie is a 60-year resident of the Lowcountry, is a sportsman, graphic artist, and lover of nature. collinsdoughtie@icloud.com