State

The Blitz It may not be what it was just a few years ago, but the fall run of bluefish still has fishermen standing shoulder to shoulder on the Outer Banks. The Bodic Island Lighthouse is barely visible in the early morning hours, but the sand from Coquina Beach southward to Cape Hattcras is already being churned at a steady pace by four-wheel-drive trucks. One by one. they veer off X'.C. 12 in a slow and or¬ derly manner, file down access roads and set up shop at the edge of the chop¬ py surf of late fall. Anticipation builds at the first sight of the rolling waves washing tip onto the North Carolina shore. Bitter winds meet the occupants of the trucks as they exit to unload their cargo of 9-foot fishing rods and get their first good look at what they hope will be a sea come alive with the uncontrolled fury of the food chain in action. I lands immediately seek shel¬ ter in coal pockets and squinted eyes carefully scan the Atlantic, hoping to find signs of what has drawn them here — the bluefish blit/. “Blit/" is a term the locals use to describe a frenzied pack of feeding bluefish. which commonly run between 8 and 16 pounds each, some¬ times even bigger. The blit/ first came to the Outer Banks in 1969 and local resident Carry Oliver remembers it well. “I'p until the late '60s. the only 'big blues' were 3 or I pounds," Oliver says. "You just didn't catch any in the surf big¬ ger than that. If you did want a bluefish bigger than that you had to go offshore 20 miles or so. "Then, in 1969, the big blues came into the surf at Pea Island. Everybody went nuts." And they still do. Although surf fish¬ ing for blues along the Outer Banks may have seen its glory days — from that blit/ in 1969 to the last sustained spring run that anyone can remember in 1989 — the term "blitz" can also be used to By Scott U. Greig describe the reaction fishermen have to news that "the blues have been spotted." The men who chase the blues on North Carolina's easternmost coastline are a mobile, transient lot. At a moment's notice they can haul in the six or seven lines anchored to rods sitting in elabo¬ rate holders on their truck grills and be kicking up sand as they head for Oregon Inlet. Avon. Whalebone, Frisco or even Ocracoke at the mere suggestion that the blues may have been spotted at these locales. And it's not that the Outer Banks are simply a good place to catch blues. They are //replace. The state’s all-tackle record bluefish — a 31-pound, 12-ounce mon¬ ster taken by James I lussey off Cape Hat¬ tcras in 1972 — also happens to be the world all-tackle record bluefish. "I remember seeing the Hussey fish.” Oliver says. "I was asked to go along and help verify its weight at the check-in sta¬ tion. Mr. Hussey had two blues in his cooler that were around 8 pounds apiece and that 31-pounder made them look like babies." Bluefish arc not confined to the wa¬ ters of the Outer Banks. Their range extends from Cape Cod southward through Florida and over the coast of the Gulf of Mexico through coastal Texas. A fish that likes warm, temperate waters, they can also be found in Aus¬ tralia, New Zealand, Africa, Madagascar and South America. A young fish on the prehistoric charts, the blue has been around since the Mesozoic era. Grouped into a biological order with such fish as the pompano. dorado and sea bass, the blue ( Ptmalomus sallatrix) has a thick, blue-green colored back blue-green (which aids in camouflaging it from prey), an alabaster-white belly and flanks that resemble polished pewter. Although the bluefish may have drawn its rather simplistic name from its natu¬ ral coloring, the fish has built its repu¬ tation on its most-notable physical fea¬ ture — a set of strapping jaws lined with angry teeth that seem to seek vengeance at the most unexpected moments. Many, if not all, longtime blucfishermen have a tale or two of the blue that snapped madly at anything in reach as the hook was being dislodged from its mouth. Or the blue that, even after half a «lay in a cooler, took a bite out of a fin¬ ger that was searching for a fresh strip of cut mullet. This, those who chase the blues will tell you. is a fish with a serious attitude. "Some people will try' to tell you that the blue is simply reacting to being out of the water when they snap at you. like they're gasping for air." says Wallace Kit- ner, a Virginian who makes an annual trek to Ocracoke in search of fall blue¬ fish. “I don't buy that for a second. This is a mean fish, plain and simple. I'd swear that he knows exactly what he's doing. He knows he's had it. and he wants to take a little piece out of your hide as revenge." What draws fishermen to the desolate fall beaches along the Outer Banks may be hard to explain to someone who has never done battle with a 15-pound blue and its rapacious jaw. but Kitner says the memory of his first blitz at Cape Point is enough to keep him coming back until he's no longer physically able. The ocean looked like a pot of boil¬ ing water." Kitner says. "The first time you see it. you kind of forget about the fishing end of the deal. You just stand there and watch this incredible thing going on." A blitz may be preceded by a sudden gathering of gulls or other sea birds who arc attracted to the masses of baitfish the The Statf/Octobcr 1994 16