jode hillman
Well-known member
Genesis 1:16 "And God made two great lights; the greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light to rule the night: he made the stars also."
The Darkness of the summer nights can be so thick you can feel it. It is my favorite time to be on the water. The hordes of daytime boaters are gone, as are the voracious biting green head flies that prowl the marshes during the heat of the day. Silence rules, but it is not absolute. Once in a while you will hear the creaking of a tree frog or the splashing of a fish gulping bait. It is serene.
As a child I was afraid of the dark, afraid of what lurked beyond what my eyes could see. I often slept with a nite light, or had a flashlight close by. The dark held that which could not be known. As I grew this fear faded and I began to embrace the darkness. No longer needing a light to find my way I would set off hunting or fishing and let my eyes adjust to the faint glow of the moon and stars. It is still one of my favorite things. As such, and given my love for crabbing I was destined to be a night Scapper!
Attitude is the difference between ordeal and adventure
- Bob Bitchin
Plans were laid early in the Week for a night time scapping adventure on the Delaware bay. Moon, tide and wind are all important when planning an adventure. Too Windy or too bright and the crabs will not come into the shallows. Too much tide will churn up sediment and make visibility poor. All the factors seemed to be right for a journey into the marsh. Our preferred access point required permission from a friend. Usually easy to reach, quite awhile past with no return call. Our Plans were looking bleak. However at the 11th hour the phone rang and a gravelly voice announced "Have at 'em boys, go give 'em Hell ."
My partner in crime for this evening would be none other than the famous creek explorer Captain Billy (Williecrab) Wilson. Billy is a man of many years creek experience, former prison guard, competitive softball player and as fast a net man as you will find. Plus he comes prepared for anything mother nature may dish out.
I arrived at our launching point and began to unload the gear. Paddles, Nets, lights, crab measure and cooler. Within minutes I saw Billy coming down the long empty road in Old Blue, His Toyota pickup. He was excited as always. He mentioned he had a "Backup" fishing rod in he truck. I explained to leave it behind as this trip was targeting Big Softshell crabs, not fish. As we launched into the Purple Hue of the setting sun, crashing birds soon caught my attention. A life long fisherman I knew it meant one thing, Blitz!
Captain Billy gave me a look that did not need to be explained and we doubled timed it back to the truck to grab the fishing rod.
After retrieving the rod and rigging it I was soon catching striped bass to 18" who were gorging themselves on peanut bunker. A quick text to a fellow fisherman and friend brought him on scene and it was cast and reel for many minutes! Realizing these fish were all to small to keep we switched tactics to target large White perch holding beneath the stripers. Every 3 to 4 minutes a thumping strike would yield fat Humpback perch to 13". They made a satisfying thump as they hit the ice. I started out wanting 6, then 8, then 10, but finally perch greed was satisfied with an even dozen delicious keepers. Through all this Billy was happy to let me fish ( with his gear) and paddle to keep me in the "Hot Spot". Finally with fish holds full we decided to start the search for crab.
We donned our headlamps and began the search of the stained water. Dozens of small crab darted left and right. The Famous "Christmas Tree" of crab produced no keepers. Cast off shells of many shedders littered the flats. Perhaps we were to late. Williecrab was the first to spot one, a cast off shell and 2 feet away a crab hiding in an old footprint. With a quick scoop and soft Thud a nice 5" soft shell came aboard. As the night wore on more and more shedders came up out of the deep onto the shedding flats. (A Shallow Sandy/rocky areas they use to complete their molt.) It is truly an amazing process.
At it's peak we had handfuls of crab around us, all in various states of escape from their shell. I soon discovered at just the right time I could reach down and ever so gently pick up the "buster" and keep it in perfect condition for the pan. 3-4-5- 8-10 soft shells found their way onto the ice. As it was getting late (past Midnight) we decided to retrace our path back to the Mainland. Billy had done an exceptional job tonight, and I told him so. He did not miss a single crab. I heard his hatband creak a little. As we rounded a small island quick movement in deep water caught my eye. A big Hard shell jimmy was prowling the drop off looking to feast on soft shells coming to the shallows. It's large claws and quick movements gave away his status of ruler of these parts. Slowing I maneuvered Williecrab in for the strike. As the crab neared I could hear Billy muttering "Wait, Wait, a little farther" then Whoosh! A mighty swipe and swing. I heard a clank of shell hitting metal and assumed the large crustacean was caught. To both our dismay, the net came up empty. Like many big crabs this monster was temporarily caught, but swam out of the net on the follow thru. Crab Loss Shock set in. The mood was somber as we headed to the truck. Two more soft shells were hand grabbed but the cloud still hung over the boat. Even the phosphorescent Jellies couldn't brighten our mood.
As the landing approached I decided to give one more sweep of the flats. As luck would have it a big crab sat not far from a deep water ledge. Obviously taking advantage of the same food source as his buddy across the bay. I decided to show The old guy how it was done. I brought the boat around, got in position and BANG! GOT HIM! ................or so I thought. Somehow, some way the biggest crab of the night escaped me. Out of the corner of my ear I heard a gentle Plop, and laughter, Billy had watched the proceedings with stoic wisdom, and nonchalantly netted the beast after he evaded me.
It was a fitting end. A big hard shell male close to 7". We killed the lights and paddled thru the moonlit darkness back to the truck. A tree frog groaned in the distance. A fish splashed. All was well, there was no need to fear the darkness.
Jode 7-15-2016
A little clip of the end of the bait blitz.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kcBPoE4tFxs
The Darkness of the summer nights can be so thick you can feel it. It is my favorite time to be on the water. The hordes of daytime boaters are gone, as are the voracious biting green head flies that prowl the marshes during the heat of the day. Silence rules, but it is not absolute. Once in a while you will hear the creaking of a tree frog or the splashing of a fish gulping bait. It is serene.
As a child I was afraid of the dark, afraid of what lurked beyond what my eyes could see. I often slept with a nite light, or had a flashlight close by. The dark held that which could not be known. As I grew this fear faded and I began to embrace the darkness. No longer needing a light to find my way I would set off hunting or fishing and let my eyes adjust to the faint glow of the moon and stars. It is still one of my favorite things. As such, and given my love for crabbing I was destined to be a night Scapper!
Attitude is the difference between ordeal and adventure
- Bob Bitchin
Plans were laid early in the Week for a night time scapping adventure on the Delaware bay. Moon, tide and wind are all important when planning an adventure. Too Windy or too bright and the crabs will not come into the shallows. Too much tide will churn up sediment and make visibility poor. All the factors seemed to be right for a journey into the marsh. Our preferred access point required permission from a friend. Usually easy to reach, quite awhile past with no return call. Our Plans were looking bleak. However at the 11th hour the phone rang and a gravelly voice announced "Have at 'em boys, go give 'em Hell ."
My partner in crime for this evening would be none other than the famous creek explorer Captain Billy (Williecrab) Wilson. Billy is a man of many years creek experience, former prison guard, competitive softball player and as fast a net man as you will find. Plus he comes prepared for anything mother nature may dish out.
I arrived at our launching point and began to unload the gear. Paddles, Nets, lights, crab measure and cooler. Within minutes I saw Billy coming down the long empty road in Old Blue, His Toyota pickup. He was excited as always. He mentioned he had a "Backup" fishing rod in he truck. I explained to leave it behind as this trip was targeting Big Softshell crabs, not fish. As we launched into the Purple Hue of the setting sun, crashing birds soon caught my attention. A life long fisherman I knew it meant one thing, Blitz!
Captain Billy gave me a look that did not need to be explained and we doubled timed it back to the truck to grab the fishing rod.
After retrieving the rod and rigging it I was soon catching striped bass to 18" who were gorging themselves on peanut bunker. A quick text to a fellow fisherman and friend brought him on scene and it was cast and reel for many minutes! Realizing these fish were all to small to keep we switched tactics to target large White perch holding beneath the stripers. Every 3 to 4 minutes a thumping strike would yield fat Humpback perch to 13". They made a satisfying thump as they hit the ice. I started out wanting 6, then 8, then 10, but finally perch greed was satisfied with an even dozen delicious keepers. Through all this Billy was happy to let me fish ( with his gear) and paddle to keep me in the "Hot Spot". Finally with fish holds full we decided to start the search for crab.
We donned our headlamps and began the search of the stained water. Dozens of small crab darted left and right. The Famous "Christmas Tree" of crab produced no keepers. Cast off shells of many shedders littered the flats. Perhaps we were to late. Williecrab was the first to spot one, a cast off shell and 2 feet away a crab hiding in an old footprint. With a quick scoop and soft Thud a nice 5" soft shell came aboard. As the night wore on more and more shedders came up out of the deep onto the shedding flats. (A Shallow Sandy/rocky areas they use to complete their molt.) It is truly an amazing process.
At it's peak we had handfuls of crab around us, all in various states of escape from their shell. I soon discovered at just the right time I could reach down and ever so gently pick up the "buster" and keep it in perfect condition for the pan. 3-4-5- 8-10 soft shells found their way onto the ice. As it was getting late (past Midnight) we decided to retrace our path back to the Mainland. Billy had done an exceptional job tonight, and I told him so. He did not miss a single crab. I heard his hatband creak a little. As we rounded a small island quick movement in deep water caught my eye. A big Hard shell jimmy was prowling the drop off looking to feast on soft shells coming to the shallows. It's large claws and quick movements gave away his status of ruler of these parts. Slowing I maneuvered Williecrab in for the strike. As the crab neared I could hear Billy muttering "Wait, Wait, a little farther" then Whoosh! A mighty swipe and swing. I heard a clank of shell hitting metal and assumed the large crustacean was caught. To both our dismay, the net came up empty. Like many big crabs this monster was temporarily caught, but swam out of the net on the follow thru. Crab Loss Shock set in. The mood was somber as we headed to the truck. Two more soft shells were hand grabbed but the cloud still hung over the boat. Even the phosphorescent Jellies couldn't brighten our mood.
As the landing approached I decided to give one more sweep of the flats. As luck would have it a big crab sat not far from a deep water ledge. Obviously taking advantage of the same food source as his buddy across the bay. I decided to show The old guy how it was done. I brought the boat around, got in position and BANG! GOT HIM! ................or so I thought. Somehow, some way the biggest crab of the night escaped me. Out of the corner of my ear I heard a gentle Plop, and laughter, Billy had watched the proceedings with stoic wisdom, and nonchalantly netted the beast after he evaded me.
It was a fitting end. A big hard shell male close to 7". We killed the lights and paddled thru the moonlit darkness back to the truck. A tree frog groaned in the distance. A fish splashed. All was well, there was no need to fear the darkness.
Jode 7-15-2016
A little clip of the end of the bait blitz.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kcBPoE4tFxs
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