07/17/2026
Nearshore at it’s finest
I welcomed my longtime friends Tom and Gail aboard, along with their grandsons, Axel and Lars, for what became one of the most memorable nearshore trips I’ve ever had the privilege to guide.
We shoved off from Weeks Bay at 5:30 a.m. A few throws of the Black Pearl cast net quickly filled the livewell with fresh pogies, and with plenty of bait secured, we pointed the Blue Wave toward the Gulf. A 10-knot west-northwest wind made Mobile Bay a little sporty, but I assured everyone the ride would smooth out once we reached open water.
It did.
As always, I searched the bay for signs of feeding Jack Crevalle, then cruised the beach looking for life. Truth be told, I rarely know exactly where I’m going until I get there.
That morning, something kept pulling me east.
Lars struck first with a beautiful Spanish mackerel, but the day truly came alive when Tom launched a cast with a 5-inch Z-Man PaddlerZ in Sexy Penny on a ½-ounce Eye Strike DieZel Eye jighead.
The bite was violent.
The fish exploded alongside the boat before launching into a blistering run that stripped nearly 150 yards of line. Tom’s Quantum Benchmark 5000 screamed louder than anything a fisherman wants to hear… and at the exact same time, everything a fisherman hopes to hear.
Just when we thought the fish was slowing down…
It ripped off another 80 to 100 yards.
Fortunately, the reel was packed with 30-pound braid, and somehow we still had line to spare.
After two unbelievable runs, Tom finally began gaining line. Then the fish started circling the boat, weaving through rods and lines like it had rehearsed the routine. We cleared the immediate hazards, but Tom’s arms were spent.
Without hesitation, Axel stepped in.
Calm. Patient. Confident.
He finished what his grandfather started.
When the fish made its first pass alongside the boat, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The Z-Man, tied to 80-pound bite leader and 50-pound mono, was pinned perfectly in the corner of the fish’s mouth—just inches away from a mouth full of razor blades.
One final pass alongside the Blue Wave, and the fish was ours. Time seemed to stop. We all stood there grinning, shaking our heads, and staring at a king mackerel none of us could quite believe was lying on the deck. It was the biggest king I’d ever personally landed on my boat, and a fish none of us will ever forget.
I know many of my offshore friends regularly catch kings even larger than this one, and I tip my hat to them. But around my boat, for my guests, this fish was a true giant.
The smiles told the story better than any scale ever could.
The celebration wasn’t over.
Big Spanish mackerel continued to fly over the gunnel, red snapper kept everyone honest, and before long Gail put an awesome blacknose shark in the boat.
Then Tom decided he hadn’t stolen enough of the spotlight.
Armed with nothing more than a live shrimp on a Lew’s 200 inshore reel, he hooked something that immediately started removing line faster than a French fry disappears into a flock of seagulls.
I fired up the boat and gave chase.
The culprit?
A hard-fighting little tunny.
Tom just laughed and said he threw that shrimp hoping to catch something smaller.
Mission failed.
By now the Gulf had turned to glass. With almost no wind, the bite slowed, so it was time to break out the chunked pogies.
Within minutes the water came alive again.
Kings.
Spanish.
Snapper.
Repeat.
Eventually even the chum lost its magic, and it was time to begin the ride home.
But I still had one thing on my checklist.
Jack Crevalle.
Working our way back through the bay, I finally spotted exactly what I’d been looking for.
“There they are!”
Cast after cast… close, but no hookups.
Finally I looked at Axel and Lars and smiled.
“Boys… one more cast. Then we’re leaving.”
The fishing gods must have been listening.
Both rods doubled over.
One 23-pound Jack.
One 25-pound Jack.
Absolute chaos.
Absolute perfection.
As we idled back toward the dock, I couldn’t help but think about how special the day had been.
A monster king mackerel.
Powerful Jack Crevalle.
Spanish mackerel.
Red snapper.
A blacknose shark.
A little tunny that nearly emptied a reel.
But more importantly…
Grand parents and grand sons sharing the same boat, laughing together, helping one another, and creating memories that will last long after the fillets are gone.
Those are the days I live for.
Tom, Gail, Axel, and Lars—thank you for trusting me with another adventure. Days like this remind me that the best part of guiding isn’t the fish.
It’s the people.
Ugly Fishing. Creating memories, one cast at a time. 🎣🌊
