Chunkin' Bait

 If you've ever stumbled across any of my words online, you've probably noticed that I'm more of a fly guy.  I just love that feeling of propelling fly line through the air with the rod, feeling the bend and strength of the rod as it loads and projects the line towards your casting target.  But, occasionally, there's a time to chunk some bait. 

The good news was we didn't have to leave Edenton too early.  The bite hadn't started until 9:30 in the morning or so, my buddy said.  So, thankfully, no need to wake up at the crack of dawn to make the hour or so drive to Swan Quarter.  

The goal was to catch a few drum, and maybe even invite a few to dinner.  It wasn't "old drum" time of late summer, but there were still some big ones out there.  We launched Johny's Jones Brothers Cape Fisherman, idled down the canal, and jumped on a plane to get over the bar and shoaling right outside the canal.  We ran out, not too far, fishing little coves and bays of the marsh islands before the sound opens up into a wide expanse, stretching to Ocracoke. Good thing we weren't in my skiff.  Even though it wasn't "too" breezy, the Pamlico has a way of getting rough.  The boat kept us dry and comfortable.  

To many outdoorsmen, Hyde County, and many of the surrounding counties too, are "God's Country."  Still very rural.  Still places where you don't see houses dotting the landscape in every direction, where you will lose any ounce of cell service in an instant, going without it for miles.  It's a beautiful thing---even with a fairly full boat ramp, we only had one or two boats fishing anywhere reasonably near us.  That's not the case many places these days.  

We'd cast out a bottom rig.  Simple.  Beads, weight, leader, circle hook.  With a chunk of cut mullet.  We'd wait.  Nothing for a while.  Guess they've got to wake up and start moving in.  Then, BAM.  The rod would bend over. We'd reel in to get tension on the fish.  After a run or two, away from the boat, then maybe right at the boat, eventually we'd get the fish in.  While it may have been a bit boring at times, waiting on a bite, for an angler accustomed to the visual ADHD hunt of sight fishing or the false casting with a fly rod, it's hard to deny that the bite and take and fight of a drum on cut bait still gets your blood pumping.