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Jason Candely, of Heath Springs, brings in a fish with help from crew member Alex Aull on a deep-sea fishing trip aboard the New Inlet Princess.
Photo by Mic Smith
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Decades of experience and a family heirloom book of coordinates guide New Inlet Princess Captain Robert Strickland to the fish. It's a challenge he welcomes with every trip.
Photo by Mic Smith
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A greater amberjack loses its fight with Johnny McNeill.
Photo by Mic Smith
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Aaron Rucker, of Lancaster, poses with the greater amberjack he caught and crew member Roger Smith.
Photo by Mic Smith
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The back of the boat is often the best place to drop your line. Coolers filled with water and ice keep fish fresh, and yellow lines track which fish belongs to whom.
Photo by Mic Smith
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Bill Fleischmann, from Murrells Inlet, poses with a trigger fish he caught on a head-boat fishing trip on the New Inlet Princess.
Photo by Mic Smith
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Terry Jackson, of Chester, leads the way off the New Inlet Princess at the end of a successful day of fishing the Gulf Stream.
Photo by Mic Smith
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He may have lost his $5 in the big fish contest, but fisher-author Hastings Hensel scores a haul of vermilion snapper for dinner.
Photo by Mic Smith
As the sun rises on a summer Sunday morning over the Murrells Inlet salt marsh, the captain of the New Inlet Princess announces over a loudspeaker that it's time, finally, to step aboard. And so we—more than 50 anglers eagerly waiting in line—stream across the gangplank and take up our positions on the ship.
Some of us stretch out on the upper deck, and others sit on benches along the gunwales. A few plop down in the galley, and some stand aft, looking back toward land. Then the diesel engines fire, and the crew unties the heavy dock lines. We're off, steaming out to sea, past the jetties and into the Atlantic Ocean, heading toward the Gulf Stream.
All of us on board—young and old, tourist and local—share a simple goal: We want to catch fish. We want vermilion snapper, amberjack, grouper, porgies, grunts, mahi-mahi, triggerfish and every other bottom-dwelling species swimming in the deep waters far offshore. And we want to do so at a fraction of the price—around one-tenth—of what it would cost to hire a private charter, and an even smaller fraction—around two-thousandths—of what it would cost to buy an offshore boat.
And so we've hopped on a head boat, so named because each angler pays a set price "per head." After all, head boats offer the most affordable option to experience one of life's rare, great pleasures: catching big fish in the deep blue sea.
Where the fish are
For the roughly three hours and roughly 50 miles it takes us to get out to the roughly 100-foot depths of the Gulf Stream, the seas thankfully aren't very rough at all. The vessel pitches and rolls only a little. Some folks nap. A few fight seasickness (or maybe a hangover). But most of us snack and joke and make fast friends with strangers. We pay $5 to enter the big fish contest. We feel the salt spray, and we drink in the view.
A little after 10 a.m., the crew drops anchor in the cobalt blue of the Gulf Stream, under fish-scale clouds that provide welcome cover from the sun, and we start fishing.
The Gulf Stream, one of the most powerful physical forces on the planet, is like a river in the ocean. Essentially, it is the western boundary current of a vast clockwise rotation of water. It moderates water temperatures and thus affects where fish feed, and when.
The science is cool and all, but Robert Strickland, captain of the New Inlet Princess—and a man who has been running fishing boats for decades, both commercially and recreationally—says the Gulf Stream is just a term most people know.
"I don't really care where the Gulf Stream's at," he says. "I just care where the fish are."
For that, he relies on decades of experience and insider knowledge, even a family book of coordinates passed down to him, to put us on the fish today. It's a challenge he welcomes with every trip, whether it's a full-day trip like this one or a half-day trip for shark or sea bass.
"I still get just as excited about it as the first day I ever went fishing," he says.
For newbies and experts
On a boat, even a 93-foot-long boat like the New Inlet Princess, word travels fast. Those of us in the stern quickly hear rumors of a man in the bow who has already fought and caught something big.
It turns out to be Johnny McNeill, who has come all the way down from Leland, North Carolina, and has caught what turns out to be a greater amberjack—a fish that looks like a sleek torpedo. As other anglers ask McNeill about his catch, he sports the grin of a victorious athlete in a post-game media scrum and says, "I knew they were out there. When it continued to fight, I had a feeling."
Excited by the news, one angler reaches into his bait bucket and gets out two slimy squid chunks. He puts each one on a circle hook and holds his rod tip, with the heavy sinker dangling, over the rails. He flips the spool lever to let the line drop in the water. He keeps slight pressure on the unspooling line with his thumb. When the line stops singing, he knows he's hit bottom, and he reels up—ever so slightly—to make the line taut, ready for action.
Suddenly, he feels a tug on his rod. He sets the hook and starts pumping. And pumping. And pumping. All the while, he's thinking he might have something extra special on the end of his line. Such is the promise of deep-sea fishing. You might come up with a state record, which has happened more than once on the New Inlet Princess.
Finally, out of the blue, the reddish-pinkish form of a fish emerges. It is, as a mate informs him, a beeliner, aka a vermilion snapper. And a good one, too. A keeper.
"I hope you got some hot grease waiting for you back home to fry him up," the mate says, helping the angler unhook the fish. It might be a line the mate has recited a thousand times, but the angler feels good about it. He smiles, tosses his catch in a basket, and rebaits his two hooks.
Indeed, all around the buzzy activity of the head boat, people are laughing and grinning as they are pulling up fish. Or aw-shucking when they miss one. Or oohing and aahing when they see a pod of dolphins swim by. The mood is jovial enough that, even when two (or three, or even four) lines get tangled, no one outwardly expresses frustration or anger. Each angler seems to accept that an occasional tangle is just part of the experience, and a crew member comes over to help unknot the lines or retie the rigs.
The crew functions much like the boat that carries them—as a well-oiled machine. Their work seems choreographed, the way they go about tying leaders, dehooking fish, identifying species, dispensing advice, selling sodas and hot dogs, cleaning the decks, consulting with the captain, cutting bait, letting out or hauling in the anchor and stringing up fish.
Dion Ferrier, of Greenville, sums up their work nicely: "I've been on a lot of head boats, but this crew is the friendliest. They're helpful to newbies and hands-off to experts."
The first mate, Roger Smith, is glad to hear it. "If you're a first-timer or you've been fishing your whole life," he says, "we're here to take you all out. If you want help, we'll give it to you. If you want to be left alone and just fish your own thing, that is completely fine."
Catch of the day
Over the course of the day, we try fishing several spots. To most of us onboard, each spot looks like another blue blip in an endless blue sea. But Captain Strickland is up in the wheelhouse, using his experience, reading the bottom and seeing the blips of fish.
At one of the final stops, Terry Jackson, a barber from Chester who has come down on his day off, starts getting lucky. After a slow start, he begins reeling in big fish, one after the other. He holds up four fingers and, like a football player, yells, "Fourth quarter!"
Jim Beauchemin, who has been fishing on head boats for 16 years, grips his monster scamp grouper by the gills—the biggest fish of the day, so far—and says, "Not a bad day for a 75-year-old man!"
And the mood remains jovial up until the last call to reel up. On the way home, we are all a little bedraggled and better for the wear. The mood is decidedly more subdued as folks stretch out on benches, hats over heads, to snooze. Or look at their phones once we get a signal. Or chat with new friends about how they'll cook up their catch.
A party of family, friends and marina staff welcomes us home at the docks for the two most coveted prizes: the photographing and the cleaning of fish. For a dollar a pound, two fish cleaners work their filet knives, flicking the guts into the creek and putting the filets into to-go bags. People hold up their stringers and smile for the cameras.
At home, one angler finds the grease the mate asked him about. He fries up his fresh catch of vermilion snapper and realizes that, as far as getting dinner goes, this beats a trip to the grocery store any old day. For today was a good day. Today he went fishing in the deep blue sea.
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BEFORE YOU GO HEAD-BOAT FISHING
Do I need to bring my own gear?
No. A head boat ticket covers everything—rod, reel, bait and terminal tackle. Some anglers prefer to bring their own tackle and bait. However, you can just show up ready to fish.
What will it cost?
Trips start around $49 for a four-hour shark fishing excursion and run up from there. An 11-hour Gulf Stream deep-sea trip can cost upward of $169.
What might I catch?
It depends on how far offshore you go and the time of year. Closer in, expect black sea bass, sharks, grunts and flounder. On a trip to the Continental Shelf or Gulf Stream, you'll find mahi-mahi, wahoo, tuna, amberjack, triggerfish, grouper, vermillion snapper and Spanish mackerel. Red snapper trips run during a limited season when regulations allow.
Is it safe?
Head boats are inspected and certified by the U.S. Coast Guard, with life jackets, life rafts, first-aid kits and CPR-certified crew members on board. "A single mom can bring her two kids and feel safe," Captain Strickland, of the New Inlet Princess, says. "We're going to take care of them."
What should I bring?
Wear flat-soled, closed-toe shoes. Bring a jacket in cooler months, since it's always a few degrees colder on the water. Pack sunscreen, sunglasses and a hat. Bring cash for onboard canteen snacks.
What about seasickness?
Take precautions before you board with over-the-counter options such as Dramamine or Bonine, which should be taken the night before or at least an hour prior to departure.
Do I need a fishing license?
No. When you fish on a federally permitted head boat, you're covered under the vessel's license.