For the first hour, things are a little slow aboard the fishing vessel Down Deep, bobbing at anchor in Delaware Bay off Cape May, New Jersey. All we've caught so far are a pesky skate and a sausage-sized shark, yet none of the seven fishermen belonging to the Edgewater Park Sports Club, who live 100 miles upriver from our current position, are complaining. The tide, as it turns out, isn't quite right for black drum - our intended quarry - and the anglers are just biding their time, because they know that pretty soon all piscatorial hell is going to break loose.

    For those who haven't spent much time in New Jersey, many are likely to have a less than pleasant image of the "Garden State" (yeah, right). The opening sequence of "The Sopranos," where Tony is driving through the more unlovely sections of Newark, is likely to provide the template through which the uninformed tar and feather what they discover to be a very beautiful state as they drive through the countryside on the way to the Atlantic coast.

    As you enter what the Atlantic City Chamber of Commerce calls "America's Favorite Playground," it's amusing to see the Monopoly board game street names come to life. We turn onto North Carolina Avenue, which dead-ends into the famous Boardwalk. Fortunately, a weekday room with a view costs about $1,900 less than the $2,000 "rack rate" it costs to visit this property in the game with a red hotel.


The deep south of New Jersey

    As a welcome change from many other fishing trips, I don't have to get up before the sun rises. At noon we take the 45-minute drive from the glam of Atlantic City to the historic fishing village of Cape May on the southern tip of New Jersey. My fishing partner, Ken Freel of Big Game Fishing Journal, and I turn in at Utsch's Marina and meet Captain Bob Meimbresse and Captain George Smith, who acts as first mate aboard Down Deep, a 40-foot custom Duffy powered by a single 700 hp Caterpillar diesel.

    The trek through the Cape May Canal and out to our fishing hole in Delaware Bay takes about 40 minutes and we anchor in 25 feet of water. We're lucky to have scored live clams, which are the premier bait for black drum and have been scarce of late due to the cold weather. Sometimes, acquiring bait is the toughest part of fishing for the largest member of this diverse family of fish that includes redfish (red drum), southern kingfish and spotted seatrout.


Big drum solo

    Delaware Bay is considered to be one of the more northerly areas where black drum consistently appear in large numbers. As is usually the case, the largest saltwater specimens of many fish species in this hemisphere are found at the far north of their range. And to add credence to this theory, the current 113-pound world record was caught right here. After an hour of biding our time waiting for the tide to pick up, one of the rods doubles over and the drum-fest begins.


Myths busted

    I've heard a lot of often-repeated adages about black drum, including the one that says the fight is like reeling up a log. But after watching the first fish strip line off the stout Penn rig and put up a hard fight for 20 minutes, it's myth busted. Captain George nets the prehistoric-looking 40-pounder and swings it aboard, and after posing for the press, it's the first fish popped into the box. 

    But wait, I thought big ones were full of worms and weren't good to eat. A member of the club winks at me and says, tongue-in-cheek, "Yes, that's true; make sure you keep repeating that one to your readers."


The bite

The action stays steady for hours and it seems like someone is always hooked up, then late in the afternoon things slow down. But as the sun sizzles beneath the western horizon of the bay, the bite picks up again and you can actually hear our quarry "drumming" beneath the boat, which is a loud grunt made by their sonic muscle attached to their swim bladder. After watching everyone else land a fish, including a whopper that's nearly 70 pounds, I'm starting to get a complex, but I finally hook a decent one and feel its power.
    At first, it looks like I'll land it in record time as it appears quickly in the boat's lights, then it notices it's hooked and zips into the gloom - making me earn every inch of line. Although the limit is three fish per person, we only take home about one per person and leave some for next time.
    As it turns out, my fish comes none too soon. Shortly thereafter, around 10 p.m., Captain Bob fires up the big diesel and we head for the house. As we lumber in, you can see the glow of Atlantic City in the distance, and it's pretty, just like you thought New Jersey wasn't. BW