Bull Drum Time at the Honey Hole - Outer Bank Fishing

Outer Banks Surf Fishing

It had been a scorcher in the OBX. My buddies — all except Coach — had just gotten off work, and we were planning to meet up at the honey hole for a late-afternoon session.

I brought the bait: fresh Atlantic Menhaden. A friend from Costa Rica and I had caught them earlier that day while fishing off the beach at Ramp 45 in Buxton. Something amazing had happened that morning, but this evening would top it.

As we sat on the beach, watching our lines and waiting for that first strike, I noticed a large shadow way out — maybe a mile offshore. It kept shifting, getting closer. Five minutes later, Menhaden started flinging themselves up onto the beach, being chased by a school of hungry bluefish. We scrambled to scoop them up, tossing them into my ice chest like it was Christmas morning. Free bait? YES!

Then I paused. “Why am I focused on bait when I should be casting?” I grabbed my lighter rod, tied on a stinger, and flung it into the chaos. WHAM — instant strike. And just as instantly, I lost it to sharp teeth. I quickly tied on an 80-pound leader, re-rigged, and cast again.

BAM! Hooked a solid blue. It fought like hell, as blues do. But right as I got it within five feet of the beach — gone. Just gone. No snap, no pull. I stood there dumbfounded.

I stared at the water, expecting to see my bluefish... and instead saw a seven or eight-foot shark, rolling in the surf, chomping away. Chomp, chomp — and poof, it vanished. Let me tell you: I haven’t moved that fast in twenty years. And when you're my age, moving that fast usually comes with whiplash or a thrown back.

One second they were there, the next — gone. Just an amazing, surreal moment.

Cast Net Bait Collection — Outer Banks Style

Most days, getting bait is a grind. But not today. I sat in my comfy new beach chair, cold drink in hand, watching the Mullet schools pass every twenty minutes like clockwork.

I’d found a sweet spot where they seemed to circle a few times before heading south. That was my window.

It took a few tries to learn they could see me coming. Just charging out with a cast net didn’t work — I had to sneak up from behind and wait until they moved south. Once I nailed the rhythm, I was averaging five to ten Mullet per toss.

Sure, I was out there for two hours in the heat. But let's be real — I was having a blast. Throwing a cast net is just another tool in a fisherman’s belt, and it saves time and money. Plus, in my experience, ocean-side bait always outfishes anything I’ve caught on the sound side.

Back to the Honey Hole

The honey hole was just north of town. I’d pull off the side of the road and park with two wheels on pavement so I wouldn’t get stuck in the sand. Then I’d trek up and over the dune, maybe 50 yards, and there it was — paradise.

I was always first to arrive, whether it was morning ‘til dark or a quick after-work trip. That meant my lines hit the water before anyone else. I always ran three rods, each rigged with my custom-made double-drop leaders.

Unless I was fishing the Point, I stuck with the double drop. Not only did it double my chances, but that second bait worked like a chum bag — stirring things up in the surf. And when you’re fishing with friends, the more bait in the water, the better the bite.

Drum Roll, Please…

The guys eventually showed up and got their lines in. Not long after, my first rod bent. I handed it off. Then my second bent — I grabbed it. We landed two slot-size Puppy Drum (Red Drum, for those not in the know). Into the cooler they went. We were pumped — laughing, baiting up, talking smack.

That’s when my brand-new Daiwa rod and reel doubled over like it hooked the moon.

I dropped what I was doing and lunged for it before it disappeared into the surf. Whatever was on the other end fought nothing like a Puppy Drum. It ran up the beach, then down, then out to sea. I knew this was different.

It took 30 minutes to get it close. When I finally saw it, I waved off my buddy who stepped in to help. “I got this,” I said.

I landed it solo — my Bull Drum. Beautiful. Powerful. Just a few inches over slot… maybe 15 or so. I admired it, snapped a quick photo, and let it swim free.

Because some catches aren’t meant for the cooler.They’re meant to remind you why you keep coming back. Outer Banks Surf Fishing is an amazing experience for all.