Sharky Night - August 20, 2022

I arrived at the launch to meet Tom Mee at about 9:35 pm, he was already there and starting to get setup. We were in the water shortly after 10:00pm pedaling out to our spot, hoping to catch the tail end of outgoing tide and be ready to go for the incoming. There was very little wind, and just a small wave presence coming from the south. We stopped for a few minutes to chat with our good friend Josh who was on his way back to the launch with a guide client, and we were fishing by about 10:30-10:35.

After approaching the spot carefully, I noticed that we were indeed just catching the very tail end of the outgoing tide. Water was moving very slowly, so before it died entirely I wanted to make a few casts in to the shallow boulders that I’ve caught countless bass before. My 4th cast with a live eel just outside the shallows and I hooked into a fish.

The fish gave me a good pull, good headshakes, thrashed about on the surface for a couple minutes and then took off in a drag screaming run to the south. Initially with the headshaking and thrashing I thought this was a schoolie/slot size striper, but this powerful, long run was no small bass. After realizing that it took more line then I've ever seen on my Cabo 50 before, I decided it was time to chase the fish and tried to regain some line.

Once I recouped some of my line I stopped pedaling and just fought the fish with brute force. Carefully pumping and reeling down on the rod, always applying strong pressure, and constantly managing my rudder angle. Checking my Lowrance chart, I found myself being towed pretty rapidly to the South East out into the sound. I tried to keep tabs on my speed and noticed at one point this fish was pulling me at 2.1 mph in a slack tide.

No matter what I did I was never able to gain the upper hand on this fish. Fighting big fish on a kayak can be a tricky dynamic. Too little drag and pressure can result in the hook pulling free when the fish turns. Too much pressure and too tight of a drag and a very big fish can flip the kayak sideways. As soon as I realized this was a substantial fish, I loosened my drag a few clicks to try to keep rolling the kayak out of the question. I’ve landed numerous large stripers on this exact kayak, rod, and reel so I feel very prepared to fight anything up to 45-50lbs.

As the fight went on, however, I became more convinced I had a shark on the line. This was almost certainly not a striped bass, unless I was fighting a giant, so I was pretty sure I had a different fish on the line. There was a recent report of an angler catching a large Cobia not too far from here, so that’s definitely possible, but I had a pretty good hunch this was some kind of shark. As the fight went on, I began tightening the drag slightly and thumbing the spool to apply a little more muscle to the fight. My rod was doubled over for most of the battle to the point where I was nervous about it snapping. I was very careful not to high-stick the rod grip for fear that it would shatter in my hands. The second half of the fight I was actually switching back and forth between arms and even using two hands to try to lift this fish toward the surface. It seemed like anytime I got the fish even just a little off the bottom it would take more line and go back down or make another run.

This was completely unlike any striper fight I’ve ever experienced. Striped bass will give a few good runs and occasionally hunker down to the bottom. This fish had raw power even after this twenty-plus minute battle. I radioed to Tom several times ensuring him that I was good and keeping him updated on my location. At one point I told him that I was convinced this was a shark and I was going to tighten down a bit more even at the risk breaking off.

Even after a 20 plus minute fight when I tried muscling it one last time it took off in a drag screaming run towards the southeast. Knowing that I was already more than half a mile away from where I hooked the fish, I put my hand on the spool pointed the rod toward the fish and forced a break off.

While retrieving the line I am fully convinced I fought a good sized shark. Everything about the style of fighting indicates a shark, and I've never fought a striper or dogfish that was even remotely this powerful. Moreover, the brand new leader was chafed all the way from the breaking point up to the swivel as though it had been rubbing against the rough body of a shark. The only reason I fought this fish as long as I did was to get a glimpse, but I also wasn’t willing to put myself in harm’s way over a fish. Sure, there’s a very small chance that this was something other than a shark – a very large striper, or maybe the incredibly rare Long Island Sound Cobia – but my money is on shark.

Pedaling all the way back to the spot took me a good 10-15 minutes in my already tired state, and after swapping rods, and getting another eel ready to go, my second cast finds me hooked into another fish. This one gave me a good run right out of the gate and was obviously very strong but nothing like the previous fish. Tom was in close enough proximity that I was able to yell to him without the radio and let him know that I was fighting another fish. Promptly the fish started thrashing about on the surface loud enough for Tom to hear as well. A few moments of thrashing and the fish started coming in like a dead weight. As I got it close to the kayak and shined a headlamp on it, I realized I just had another shark encounter in virtually the same spot. A shark had attacked my bass just a minute or two into our fight, long before I had this fish under control. Biting from the rear, the tax-man took approximately 1/3 of what used to be a good-sized striper.

After bringing the dying and twitching bass to the side of the kayak and gawking in astonishment for a few minutes I finally got the courage to grab the hook with my hook extractor tool. I was not about to put my hand in the water, but by lifting with the hook extractor I was able to grab the lower jaw. This was a very good size bass and based on the size of the jaw and the head I would estimate it to be approximately 45 inches (before being bitten down to size). I've caught a lot of bass in the past ten years and I'm willing to bet money that this was nothing less than a 42 inch bass. To put into perspective, this striped bass was large enough that Fish Grips would struggle to lock down around the lower jaw, and a grown man’s hand would easily fit inside the mouth.

I immediately decided I was done fishing for the evening. I took the eel off my hook and tossed it aside and put my rod away. The way I saw it, there was several reasons to call it a night. As evidenced by my first battle, hooking into another shark was a losing scenario. If I did hook another bass, I didn’t want to present an easy meal for a shark and have the blood of another dead striper on my hands. Even if I did hook and subdue a bass, I definitely did not want to put my hand in the water to land or revive a fish, knowing there’s obviously sharks around. As I debate all this internally, Tom continued fishing still holding on to some hope of just one bass, but I was done for the night.

After unhooking and letting the bass begin to float away, I decided I was going pedal back to the bass and try to get some better pictures. The dying fish was floating head down so there was no way for me to really grab the fish and get it back into the kayak. I tried (cautiously and timidly) to grab the exposed flesh that was floating at the water’s surface but could not get a sufficient grip to lift the heavy weight up out of the water. There was absolutely no way I was reaching down into the water with sharks around, but I thought I was out of harms way if I kept my hands up and out of the water. I made several attempts to get better pictures of a dead and floating carcass, but without holding it still the cameras weren’t cooperating. I pedaled back again to get a closer look and got out the digital camera one more time. Before I had a chance for the camera to focus on the fish and take any pictures a shadow appeared and a very large shark attacked the dying fish within two feet of my kayak

In the momentary frenzy attacking the dying fish, the shark attacked the bass’s head at my port side, went under my kayak to starboard, splashed the surface (I think while turning around) then went under the kayak again back to the port side and grabbed the bass once more. I yelled to Tom and as quickly as I could put the Mirage drive in reverse and started pedaling away. I heard no more thrashing and once I got a kayak length away could no longer see the shark or the bass in the light from my headlamp.

In the heat of the moment, my initial reaction was that the shark was approximately 10 feet long. Knowing that I was excited and did not get a clear look, I soon concluded that the shark was probably closer to 8 feet, but still a very large shark dwarfing any 45-50” stripers and dogfish I’ve seen at the side of my kayak. It was closer in size comparison to my kayak than it was to an adult male human.

Unfortunately in the chaos I didn’t really focus on identifying the shark species. I don’t know much about local shark distinguishing features anyway, so I’m not sure what I would have been looking for. I can say with certainty that it definitely wasn’t a thresher or hammerhead, either of those species are obvious to me.

After that brief encounter Tom and I were both in agreement and with headlamps on we briskly made our way back to the launch talking about our evening the whole way back. As much as the evening ended on a frightening note, I’m glad I was pedaling my way in safely with all fingers and toes still attached.

In hindsight, I’ve come to the conclusion that my first fight of the night was actually more similar to the second. When I first hooked up on my 4th cast, I got the impression I was fighting a schoolie. I think that was probably the case, but said schoolie was eaten and then I began fighting the shark that ate it. The headshaking in the beginning of the fight indicated to me a slot or smaller striped bass, and the thrashing before turning into a massive run was similar to the predation on the large bass a little while later. I’ll never know for sure unfortunately, but all signs point in the same direction.

In less than 1 hour of fishing, and only making six casts, I had three interactions with sharks. At a minimum there must have been two large sharks at the same spot, though it could have very easily been three different sharks. But what are the chances that there were only two or three sharks there and I had interactions with each one? Knowing how observational probability works in wildlife studies, I’m inclined to think there was at least a handful of sharks roaming that area.

The next morning I spent a little time on the internet in an attempt to identify the shark I saw right at my kayak. It seems the most likely species in my location would have been either Sandbar Shark or Sand Tiger Shark. I didn’t take notice to any abnormally large dorsal fin, any sort of markings or distinguishing characteristics. So – again – a species ID was not on my mind during the encounter, but at this time I’m leaning toward Sand Tiger Shark was the culprit. That is, at least for the shark that attacked the dying/dead bass right at my feet.

It was one hell of an experience, definitely a little frightening, very exciting, and an evening I will not forget anytime soon