Article by Tassos Argyros
As we eased out of the fog to our destination, the faint outline of a boat appeared. Darn, somebody beat us to it. “Pull up, let’s talk to them.” As we got closer I realized that they were not hooked up yet. “Are you going to do some diving?” the other boat calls out as they watch me putting on my wet suit. “Oh yeah”, I replied. “We’re going to try it too.” “Sounds good,” I responded. Seconds later, I observed one of the passengers suiting up in an orange and pink O’Neil surfing wet suit. This should be interesting, I told my uncle. We proceeded to hookup on the Winter Quarter Shoal wreck approximately 23 miles south of the Ocean City Inlet. This happens to be one of the best spots around Ocean City, MD for the novice spearfisherman. The combination of shallow depth, warmer water and an abundance of fish make it the perfect place to take up this exciting sport.
As I entered the water, my first thoughts were that the visibility looked decent, approximately twelve to fifteen feet on the surface. My next thoughts were Mama will be eating well tonight and the fish are in trouble. The first dive put me twenty-six feet down on the sand. Two more thoughts crossed my mind, the visibility on the bottom was not as good, but still around 10-feet and plenty good enough to fill the cooler.
I returned to the surface and immediately oriented myself to where our boat was anchored. We must be anchored to the side of the wreck I thought. No problem, I thought to myself. The other boat was anchored parallel to ours so I swam toward the other boat and stopped midway. I rested on the surface for a few seconds to lower my heart rate, and then I took two or three deep breaths and dove down to the bottom. As I made my way down to twenty feet I saw the sandy bottom. It was covered with small mussels and I realized that I still had not found my mark. I kicked hard twice on the bottom and the wreck came into view. The tautog were everywhere and the phrase “teaming with life” was the only way to describe it. Perfect. I eased my way to the surface without spooking the fish and oriented myself to the boats. Then I checked to see where the new guy was. There were other spots on the wreck that I could hunt if I needed to. The new guy will definitely spook the fish I thought to myself. Not a problem if you are just trying to shoot a few tog, but if you are looking for the ten pounders they will hole up and the sheepshead will take off also.
My next few dives were on the wreck, but uneventful. I observed a few small tog in the 4 to 5 pound range. They were not what I was looking for. I looked at my dive watch and quickly realized the problem. My heart was still racing too hard and my dive times had only been around 35 seconds. Good enough to shoot a four pound tog, but you won’t see a sheepshead. I proceeded to spend a little more time on the surface to breath-up. Breathing-up is a process which helps to slow your heart rate and oxygenate your blood allowing you to increase your dive times.
On my next dive, I dropped down on a school of tog. When I reached the bottom I froze. The tog stopped fleeing and circled to investigate me. I scanned the school and picked out the largest one. I slowly raised my speargun and gently squeezed the trigger. The shaft rocketed forward and impaled the fish. As I swam back to the boat, I got the feeling that someone was watching me. “Nice tog”, someone screamed out, “thanks”, I called back. I flopped the 7 pounder on the boat and my uncle said, “Why did you shoot that minnow?” “I don’t know, the water makes them look bigger,” I responded. Alright, where are they, I thought to myself? The reason why I ran 23 miles through the fog was to spear some sheepshead. I headed back to the spot.
On my next dive, I gently glided to the bottom and came to rest next to a piece of the wreck that concealed me nicely. Perfect now just relax, I thought to myself. Once again the tog initially scattered, and then came toward me for a closer look. A few more seconds went by and then it happened. The distinct silhouette of a sheepshead formed in the distant murk. Then the black and white stripes became visible and several more sheepshead appeared. As the contractions began in my abdomen, I strained my eyes to pick out the biggest fish in the school. That’s the one, I thought to myself. I slowly raise my gun, aim and squeeze off the shot. The shaft raced off and found its mark. The sheepshead raced off out of view and I kicked hard to the surface responding to the urge to breath that had been steadily building over the course of the last minute. I broke the surface and took two deep recovery breaths. All the while I was fighting the fish that was on the shooting line and gently worked it to the surface. I was also enjoying the feeling of success that many hunters out there can relate too. I got the fish to the surface and swam it back to the boat. What kind of fish is that? Someone shouted. “Sheepshead”, I responded.
Over the next thirty minutes, the same scenario replayed itself three or four more times and then they were gone. Ok, the sheepshead are spooked, let me check on the new guy and move to another part of the wreck, I thought to myself.
I swam over toward the new guy and asked, “How’s it going?” “Ok I guess, I haven’t gotten one yet,” he responded. “Just drop down on the wreck and wait for the fish to turn and come back towards you” I said. “That’s the problem, by the time I get down to the wreck, it’s time to come back up.” he replied. As I observe him kicking fairly hard to stay on the surface, my mind wonders back to when I was first learning to spearfish and realized that I had made the same mistake many years ago. He was wearing too much weight which was causing him to kick hard in order to stay on top of the water. The kicking elevates your heart rate and shortens your dive times.
I swam over to the other area of the wreck. I dropped down on a part that comes up off the sand about twelve feet. As I observed a school of tautog, I glanced down at the wreck and an oval doormat outline caught my eye. Closer inspection confirmed the perfectly camouflaged flounder. I slowly eased back to the surface and thought through my plan of attack. I had two options. I could have shot the flounder on an angle or scared it and tried to shoot it as it swam away. If I shot it perpendicularly, there was a chance that the spear shaft would hit the wreck under the fish and the spear will not go through the fish. If I scared it up, it would have been a difficult shot because of the angle. I decided to drop down on it and make a decision after I surveyed it again. I decided to shoot it on an angle because it looked like it was just lying on sand after all. My shaft penetrated deep enough and I surfaced with the flounder.
I shot a few more tog, gave one to the other boat and decided to call it a day. Total catch for the day was four tautog, five sheepshead, one flounder, and one triggerfish.
Breath-hold spearfishing is all about relaxation. This is much easier said than done in our neck of the woods. The combination of murky water, colder water temperatures and ocean currents make it less than an ideal place to learn how to spear fish. On the bright side, there is an abundance of fish and a few shallow wrecks where you can begin to hone your skills. Tautog are the most prevalent, but there are many other species to hunt. Some of the less common fish that show up during the summer months include sheepshead, cobia, amberjack and barracuda.
Authors disclaimer: Breath- hold spearfishing is a dangerous sport. The author is in no way encouraging anyone to pursue or attempt.
