Jack'n Around

Many years ago I can recall my brother and I pestering our dad to take us fishing. Summer had just begun and with both of us out of school, fishing was all we ever wanted to do. So we planned a day with the whole family, loaded up and headed to Sabine Lake. After hitting a few spots with little luck, we decided to anchor in the ship channel near an old sign; not sure why but that sign always held enough croaker and drum to keep us entertained. After being there for a while, I don’t remember who but someone pointed and asked, “what’s that?” We all turned and Dad was the first to click that it was the top of a fish tail and it was heading our way. He quickly grabbed the first rod he could get his hands on, cut off the dead shrimp rig, fumbled through the tackle box and grabbed the first lure he could find. He turned made a cast and, before we knew it, his reel was screaming. We knew he hung something big and we cheered him on.

After a solid 20 minutes, he got the fish alongside with all of us hanging over the gunnels questioning what it was. “I bet that’s a Jack Crevalle” my Dad said and, knowing it wasn’t much for table fare, he grabbed the pliers, retrieved his lure and sent the mysterious fish back to the water. That was my first encounter with a jackfish.

My second encounter came when I was just sixteen and my buddies and I loaded up to fish the surf at daylight. There was a calm north breeze and we knew the remnants of the Dirty Pelican pier on Bolivar is where we needed to be. As the sun came up we started putting a few trout on our stringer and fishing was steady. A little later on we noticed that the water looked as if it was boiling a short distance down the beach. We quickly recognized it was a huge school of fish and we took off toward it. After running down the sand about 100 yards, I came to the group of fish and made a cast. Before I could even catch my breath, I realized that the freight train of a fish I just hung into was about to spool my reel. Sure enough, she took all my line and within minutes the same happened to my two buddies. They left us staring in complete disbelief.

Jack Crevalle can be found all along the Texas coast and, in my opinion, don’t get the respect they deserve. Pound for pound, they are some of the hardest fighting fish that you will encounter in Gulf waters. When looking at the shape of these fish you can tell they are designed for speed and power. On top of that, they are extremely aggressive and just downright mean. Put all of these attributes together and you are left with one hell of a fish.

Besides not being good to eat and capable of wrecking tackle, I can see where some anglers may not care to catch them. They can be caught on light tackle, but if you’re planning to target them, don’t bring your trout rod. When running around the surf or jetties during summer, I usually have one rod set up specifically for jacks and bull reds. This is a JH Custom, medium-power, 8-footer. It has plenty of backbone and its length lends to casting a mile. Paired with it, I have a Lew’s Super Duty 300 spooled with 50-pound braid, and usually the biggest topwater I can put on there.

Last year I set out with a goal to catch a jack on my fly rod and was able to achieve it. Again, I have an outfit set-up specifically for them, your standard 6 to 8-weight redfish rods are simply not up to the task, unless you get helluva lucky. Mine is an 11-weight and I will usually add a 40-pound fluorocarbon tippet.

I also learned last year that they like lighter-colored flies. I started off with my go-to black and purple and they did not want anything to do with it. After several refusals I switched to a white and chartreuse fly and it was on after that.

What is also great about these fish is that they don’t only test your gear but they will also test an angler’s endurance. Fighting one of these brutes will often leave the best of anglers exhausted. I’ve seen grown men completely give up after catching just one, ready to switch back to catching trout and reds.

One of last summer’s best memories came when a friend from Alaska made her first visit to Texas. After showing her a portion of the state I decided to show her the coast and go fishing. We were blessed with calm seas and my hope was to put her on some bull reds. We were successful with that and as I looked across the surf I saw the water boiling. I rushed her to reel in as quickly as possible although she wasn’t sure of the urgency of the situation. We pulled up to the school and I chunked a She Dog in the middle. I handed her the rod and said hang on! She quickly realized what was happening and was in for a fight. We landed the jack, made some photos and, to my surprise she said… “Let’s do that again!” After landing her fourth jack she was finally ready for a break.

I picked up the same She Dog, straightened the hooks best I could, and it was my turn. Eventually they pulled both hooks off and all I was left was just the lure body. It was one of the most impressive displays I have ever witnessed in our water. Looking back at it now, I am willing to bet it was a school of 500+ fish. I explained to my friend that what she just witnessed is something that a vast majority of anglers have never experienced. Too top it all off, we were the only boat out there messing with them.