Jan 27, 2005--Dinghy Fishing Fun II
by Scott and Wendy Bannerot

In our last dinghy-fishing article, we got things started with trolling light to medium spinning tackle, and we promised to take you a bit further down the road to cruise-fishing mania in this next installment. Take a look, for example, at the photo of me and Jon Broadhurst (right). At first glance we might look a bit silly, excessive...I mean Jon is set up with a Penn 50W International, stand-up rod, wearing a serious rod belt, with harness handy, his game face on. Despite the fact that this rig is capable of subduing 1,000-pound marlin, our fishing conveyance is a 10-foot rubber duck. What's going on here? Does it make any sense whatsever?

Sure it does. Jon and I just set out a big, deep-swimming plug on a 15-foot #8 wire leader (that's 96-pound test single strand stainless steel), and we're taking a lap around ELAN so Wendy can get a photo of the set-up. We're at Maninita Island, anchored in a rather exposed position in the midst of a massive maze of vibrant coral reefs. We've been free-diving nearby by in the morning, and we have located a large school of big bohar snappers in a sandy ravine between to walls of coral. We've also seen some very nice lyretail groupers cruising deep along the reef. These species are suckers for a hard-wiggling, deep-diving fish imitation, but it's got to have some serious hooks and hardware, and be deployed on the right leader--something strong that they can't see very well. The first dark coral patch looms immediately forward of ELAN, so Jon isn't faking that expression. He fully expects to get hammered at any moment.

Why the heavy tackle? Simple--there's no way to tame big bruiser reef fish with anything much lighter in this environment. These predators are hefty and mean, and the moment they feel the hooks, they dash down and around the coral. It's an all-or-nothing kind of thing. Either you put some serious heat on the fish and keep it out of the reef, or it's gone. Yes, sometimes it's possible to don mask and fins, grab your speargun or Hawaiian sling, and free dive down to rectify the situation, but the best fishing is early morning and at dusk, and where there are lots of big snappers and groupers, there are sharks. How close are you to quality medical care? How fast is your boat? Who's watching your back? Is the risk worth it?

Far better to do everything possible to take preventative measures and simply catch the fish. Here's what happens. You're trolling along, shooting the breeze. The angler, sitting midships holding the rod, gets a jolting strike that threatens to pull arms out of sockets (well, maybe not quite), because you have the drag set to as much as 30 percent of the line strength, as much as the tackle and lure hardware can take. The driver should immediately veer off for deep water, away from the nearest underwater obstruction that the fish thinks of as home. You literally drag the fish away and in to the open using this technique, combined with short lifts of the rod, and quick turns of the reel handle as the rod tip drops, then pull up again...a method called "short-stroking". The fish feels nothing but relentless pressure; no slack, never a moment's respite. If the fisherman pauses to rest, the fish recovers quickly and can make a successful dash into an underwater cave or around a coral pinnacle and pop the line. Once you are clear of the reef--well clear--you might consider taking the engine out of gear or at least throttling back while you reach for the net or gaff. The point of your gaff should always wear a protective length of hose, the diameter of which approximates the diameter of the gaff hook so it fits tightly. Obviously one mistake with the gaff can be a very deflating experience in an inflatable dinghy. Place the fish immediately in a fish bag or other tough container so that sharp fins or teeth do not puncture dinghy pontoons or human flesh.

Jon's fierce concentration on all of this didn't result in a strike right away on the day Wendy took the photo of us trolling by. We weaved our way north, in and out of the spur and groove reef formations to the north of Maninita Island, for about 45 minutes before Jon's rod suddenly bowed sharply and the drag on the Penn began to roar. I throttled up and swung off the reef. Jon worked hard short-stroking, and made short work of a modest sized lyretail grouper (above left), also referred to as coral trout--this fish is Variola louti. We gradually circled back to the area where we'd seen the bohar snappers while diving, steering the trolled plug right down the alley. The take this time was twice as violent as the lyretail grouper, and the fish took 20 yards of line down and away from the boat at high speed. I thought it was all over, but I steered off anyway, and Jon sweated and groaned with the strain. The fish must have been inches from safety before we turned it. Jon kept the pressure on, and soon we spotted an immense bronze glow below us. It was a very good-sized bohar snapper, a perfect way to wrap up our sojourn (right).