by Captain Larry Festa
Historically, June 1 is our start date for the big hunt. Last year June 2 was on a Saturday and I was informed that due to a family wedding that June weekend was not going to be an offshore mako marathon for me. In other words, Larry “The Legend” was on the beach! With much tension in the family household over this news, my only option was to get the boys and crew up for a Friday jump start trip.
I made five quick calls and filled the boat in an instant for the first shark trip of the season. The forecast for the week looked a little on the breezy side with a strong northwest flow. As a rule northwest was always the best wind direction for shark fishing on Long Island. The problem is too much wind from the northwest makes for a real white knuckle ride home!
The boat was well crewed. My steady gaff man, “Mako” Mark, and helmsman Mike Murray were at the core of my crew. The plan was a very early jump out to the Texas Tower, which would be a starched 68-mile run in the pre-morning darkness. On Thursday I loaded the boat with six cans of freshly ground bunker chum, one flat of frozen mackerel, one flat of herring, six freshly caught bluefish and a dozen fresh bunkers from one of the local gill-netters.
The Kristen was fully fueled, baited and manned. The instructions were 1 a.m. at the dock for a 2 a.m. departure. With little sleep the night before, I arrived at the boat an hour or so early. The wind was just starting to come up a little and I knew the weather man was going to be correct about the northwest air flow. The amount of flow was yet to be determined, but my gut feeling was it was going to be a little breezy. As I plotted my intended plans for the first trip, my main concerns were the weather for the trip home. A trip to the Tower would put the sea square on the bow of Kristen for the ride home. Should the winds exceed 20 knots, the trip home would more than double in time not to mention the discomfort.
By 2 a.m. all the boys were on board, my total crew was five. At 2:10 a.m., the lines were off and we cruised slowly in the early morning darkness to Jones’ Inlet. Once outside the inlet I set my course for 150 degrees southeast. By 3:30 a.m. we were about 20 miles offshore and a gray dawn was upon us. The following sea was already fairly steep with a touch of white on the top of each curling wave.
I knew the trip home would be a white knuckle ride all the way into a head sea. With this in mind, I made a decision to adjust Kristen’s course farther and farther to the southwest until I could achieve what could be an acceptable heading home should the seas continue to build. My new heading was now 240 degrees southwest towards an area off the New York bite we refer to as the Mud Hole.
The seas were now on our beam and the ride was a little on the wet side, but the 31 JC had no problems maintaining a cruise speed of 16 knots. By about 5:30 a.m. we passed the Mud Hole area and made our first stop at an area referred to as the Lillian Wreck. This area is about 30 miles southwest of our inlet on the western edge of the flats near the Glory Hole. By now it was 6 a.m. The seas were still high from the northwest with winds speeds of 20 knots. We set out our chum slick, started our drift, and we were covered by bluefish in an instant. The water was still a hint of inshore green and I was not happy with that. Thirty minutes into the slick with no run offs, it was lines up. With the day so early and the fact that my next offshore trip was days away we were committed to stay and find good water.
I pointed the boat south and we slowly cruised down the edge of the Glory Hole, following the lobster pots that marked the edges and good structure along the underwater ridges and valleys. By about 9 a.m. we were deep into the Glory Hole where it opened up into and area called the Chicken Canyon. By now, I was committed to stay and our chum once again hit the suds. The water was bright blue and the drift was over a full knot.
I made five quick calls and filled the boat in an instant for the first shark trip of the season. The forecast for the week looked a little on the breezy side with a strong northwest flow. As a rule northwest was always the best wind direction for shark fishing on Long Island. The problem is too much wind from the northwest makes for a real white knuckle ride home!
The boat was well crewed. My steady gaff man, “Mako” Mark, and helmsman Mike Murray were at the core of my crew. The plan was a very early jump out to the Texas Tower, which would be a starched 68-mile run in the pre-morning darkness. On Thursday I loaded the boat with six cans of freshly ground bunker chum, one flat of frozen mackerel, one flat of herring, six freshly caught bluefish and a dozen fresh bunkers from one of the local gill-netters.
The Kristen was fully fueled, baited and manned. The instructions were 1 a.m. at the dock for a 2 a.m. departure. With little sleep the night before, I arrived at the boat an hour or so early. The wind was just starting to come up a little and I knew the weather man was going to be correct about the northwest air flow. The amount of flow was yet to be determined, but my gut feeling was it was going to be a little breezy. As I plotted my intended plans for the first trip, my main concerns were the weather for the trip home. A trip to the Tower would put the sea square on the bow of Kristen for the ride home. Should the winds exceed 20 knots, the trip home would more than double in time not to mention the discomfort.
By 2 a.m. all the boys were on board, my total crew was five. At 2:10 a.m., the lines were off and we cruised slowly in the early morning darkness to Jones’ Inlet. Once outside the inlet I set my course for 150 degrees southeast. By 3:30 a.m. we were about 20 miles offshore and a gray dawn was upon us. The following sea was already fairly steep with a touch of white on the top of each curling wave.
I knew the trip home would be a white knuckle ride all the way into a head sea. With this in mind, I made a decision to adjust Kristen’s course farther and farther to the southwest until I could achieve what could be an acceptable heading home should the seas continue to build. My new heading was now 240 degrees southwest towards an area off the New York bite we refer to as the Mud Hole.
The seas were now on our beam and the ride was a little on the wet side, but the 31 JC had no problems maintaining a cruise speed of 16 knots. By about 5:30 a.m. we passed the Mud Hole area and made our first stop at an area referred to as the Lillian Wreck. This area is about 30 miles southwest of our inlet on the western edge of the flats near the Glory Hole. By now it was 6 a.m. The seas were still high from the northwest with winds speeds of 20 knots. We set out our chum slick, started our drift, and we were covered by bluefish in an instant. The water was still a hint of inshore green and I was not happy with that. Thirty minutes into the slick with no run offs, it was lines up. With the day so early and the fact that my next offshore trip was days away we were committed to stay and find good water.
I pointed the boat south and we slowly cruised down the edge of the Glory Hole, following the lobster pots that marked the edges and good structure along the underwater ridges and valleys. By about 9 a.m. we were deep into the Glory Hole where it opened up into and area called the Chicken Canyon. By now, I was committed to stay and our chum once again hit the suds. The water was bright blue and the drift was over a full knot.
