Hammerhead Encounters Off Hatteras--One Donated Fish on One Given Day

By Jim Field

Fishing off Hatteras, we see sharks regularly, lots of sharks. And big ones at that. You scan the water's surface and pick up a dark dorsal fin--a piece of fixed triangular surface area--against a moving background. The size of the dorsal fin--its vertical height--gives you one indication of the predator's size. A second indicator is the distance between the dorsal fin and its tail fin that swings back and forth methodically to propel the animal forward. The Crew never tires of observing sharks; from safety we get to see them in their element, grateful we're not in such a situation as to have to co-habitat the water with them.

Perhaps the most beautiful day of shark "bonding" I experienced occurred this past winter. We were fishing out of Oregon Inlet for tuna and the day and sea state were absolutely perfect. The ocean was literally teeming with sea life--we saw hundreds of porpoise, dozens of whales, boiling balls of baitfish--and we got skunked amidst this plenty for tuna, our target. However, while trolling along the temperature break, which ran hard that day, the water moving rapidly, in small rippling currents, we came across large sharks (species unknown) dead on the temperature break, swimming effortlessly to hold themselves stationary against the current. Here they waited for the fish to come to them. We counted them in passing each one by, spaced perhaps 50 yards apart like highway markers: one, two, three, four, and off into the distance.

Another memorable shark encounter we had was while bottom fishing in February 2009 at the 280 Rocks. We were having great success bringing large fish up from the deep by vertical jigging. One of us (I believe Dan) hooked up a fish that eventually surfaced about 50 feet off our starboard beam. The fisherman began reeling in the fish across the water's surface when all of a sudden we saw this enormous shadow close in from about ten feet under water. It came to the surface and turned 90 degrees toward the boat, chasing down the moving fish. It was a large hammerhead, which proceeded to surgically bisect the catch. Like all hammerheads in these waters, its top two-thirds was colored a light chocolate brown, its underside a rich creaming white. Nothing short of stunning. We watched in awe as it closed, struck, and departed. That was that. Hello and goodbye. Thanks for the snack, boys.


Stunning creature, a wonder of evolutionary adaption


Remains of the day as exhibited by Dan; black finger of death points to location of thief in the water

The Crew at pier side, with noteworthy production of five blackfin tuna (closest to boots) caught by vertical jigging. Left to right: Dan, Fran Senior, Captain Jim, and Joe Irons