24 hours on the water

ATLANTIC BEACH -- The horn sounded at 10:34 p.m. on a Saturday in mid-October, 31/2 hours after the Capt. Stacy IV head boat left the dock.

It was time to fish.

We were early into a 24-hour, overnight bottom-fishing trip, and this was probably the only time that the Atlantic Ocean had the attention of nearly all of the boat's 44 fishermen.

We were about 40 miles out to sea, two hours past the point where the steady pulse of the Cape Lookout lighthouse faded to oblivion. Around us, darkness. The waters glowed an intense blue under the boat's lights, and soon, bright red Vermillion snapper were being reeled in from the depths.

We were close to the Gulf Stream, according to the head captain, Maurice Davis. The water was 85 degrees and 125 feet deep. The fishermen used slices of squid, Boston mackerel and other chunks of bait, sunk by 12-ounce weights.

Anglers fished while holding tight to the boat's rail. As the boat rocked back and forth, often violently, they had to learn the rhythm or turn into human Yahtzee cups, their contents likely to spill.

Traveling to the fish

Angier's David Williams comes out about twice a year on this boat for a 24-hour trip - the boat also does shorter trips. He takes his own rod and his own bait, but most use the gear provided. He was alone, but many come in groups.

Williams prefers the longer trips because more fishing spots are hit, and the boat goes out farther. With the trip taking place over two days, two limits of fish may be kept.

During the trip, it seemed that many spots had a prevailing species. There were grouper and snapper sites. But porgies, grunts, dolphin, squirrelfish, sharks, remora, amberjack, triggerfish, and others were caught, too.

"Here, you catch a variety," said Castalia's Raemon Lee, who used to go on similar trips out of Virginia. "There's better fishing right here."

Even so, with stricter regulations than in the past, many fish have to be returned to the sea.

"If I could keep everything I've caught, I'd have a full cooler by now," said Moncure's Kenneth Alston, who had thrown back quite a few grouper, a highly sought fish.

There's a pot for the biggest fish, and one time, Williams barely missed the money with a large amberjack.

"I've lost it by a pound on this boat before," he said.

Williams took few breaks, collapsing between benches - there are no bunks - on the upper deck deep into the night only to rise with the sun. That dedication eventually paid off. He caught a 20-pound amberjack and won the $90 pot, which partially offset the $160 admission fee.

Rough ride

Not everyone was able to handle the rough seas, myself included.

Over the years, I've gotten mixed results from motion sickness pills.

It didn't take long to find out that the boat's galley was my forbidden zone. For the next 10 hours or so, I struggled to keep my equilibrium, finding refuge on the boat's upper deck.

I heard stories of anglers struck with paralyzing motion sickness shortly after the boat left the dock, not once dropping their lines in the water, only to recover when the boat returned to land 24 hours later. Occasionally, trips are canceled because of foul weather, but short of emergency, once you're on the boat, you're on the boat.

There were a few of these poor souls on this trip, but I avoided their ranks, staying on the breezy upper deck until I could compose myself below.

Others trudged through the sickness while fishing on, heaving and reeling at the same time, or taking a moment to bellow a sound similar to that of a bullfrog.

Long day and night

As the night wore on, the ranks of men still fishing dwindled and tired bodies piled up on benches or on the floor and booths inside the galley.

By the time the sun rose over the horizon, most had rejoined the cause.

Davis or alternate captain Jim Bailey (on these 24-hour trips, the boat is required to have two licensed captains) would keep watch on how the fishermen were doing and decide to move frequently, sounding the horn to let everyone know to bring their lines in.

Plenty of help

On the boat's main deck, three deckhands and occasionally the galley's cook assisted the fishermen with fish and tackle and making sure they had bait. They provided stringers and kept everyone's catch organized in the coolers between spots.

Four hours before the trip was to end, the horn sounded for the last time. The boat's engine started up, and the boat pointed back toward shore, bouncing violently in rough waters.

If I had any motion sickness lingering, it was cured once Carolina's shore reappeared.

And in the meantime, I'd been infected with a new kind of fishing bug.

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