AVALON FISHING PIER

Blog Entry Date: 12/31/2022

On the planks of Avalon Fishing Pier in Kill Devil Hill, North Carolina, you might catch fish if the wind has been blowing in the right direction for long enough to push the bait fish closer to the shore, if the water is not dirty or sandy but not too clear, if the tide is "running" - that is, when it's on the move from high to low or vice versa, or if the species of fish you are targeting are migrating North or South at the time you are there. There are a LOT of variables involved here that will determine if you are going to catch anything or not, but the most important is that you have to "be there". Yes, often times you don't catch anything, or very few fish, and maybe the fish you caught weren't the fish you were going after anyhow, and then there will be times when "the fish were so thick you could walk across them" and your arm hurts from throwing gotcha plugs and horsing in blues on every throw. (Those times are the times that keep you coming back over and over again hoping that, "any minute now" another school will be coming in.) At the end of the day though, it is still called "fishing" and not "catching". As my grandpa put it..."fishing is defined as a piece of line that has a hook on one end and an optimist on the other".

My parents started taking all of us down to the Outer Banks around 1985. I don't recall what prompted this exactly. Maybe it was to avoid the crowded beaches of Ocean City, Maryland and everything that comes with that. Maybe it was because they were looking for a more relaxed setting to take us boys, one of which, my brother Mark, was in a wheelchair and paralyzed from the neck down due to being struck by a car when he was 2 and a half years old.

At any rate, our family vacation that year took us to Southern Shores, North Carolina. Mom had done the research and found us a one-level beach house that we could access with my brother's wheelchair without issue. I mean the chair was like 1000 lbs or something, with the motor, batteries and respirator, etc. You weren't carrying him and his chair up any stairs.

I remember the 7 hour drive that first year like it was yesterday. We were all so excited we were going to the North Carolina beaches for a brand new adventure. All loaded up in our Ford Econoline van with all of our vacation essentials. Me, being 15, pretty sure all I was thinking about were the girls I imagined the beach would be littered with and who I might meet. Mark was thinking about getting a new beach kite, and my youngest brother Brian...well...he just wanted to go boogie boarding.

7 hours later, we enter what looked like a beach ghost town. Where was the boardwalk? Where were the gift shops, WHERE WERE ALL THE GIRLS? You see back then, the Outer Banks was FAR FAR less commercialized, and there wasn't really much down there, especially in Southern Shores where we were staying that week. Tired from the LONG drive, and slightly discouraged that I could not visually pinpoint where the "action" was going to be, we unloaded our things from the van and got situated into our home away from home for 7 days.

Our first steps onto the beach were the most memorable of any time I can remember. Mom was yelling "LOOK! THERE ARE PELICANS!", Brian went hauling ass running down to the water, my Dad was making a plank walkway from the front porch to the top of the dune overlooking the beach out of window shutters for my brother Mark to drive his wheelchair out to...and I was just looking at ALL OF THAT WATER. There had to be fish out there for sure.

After a stop at Bob's Bait and Tackle which was up in Duck, about a ten minute ride North from where we were staying, we brought back some bottom rigs and blood worms and tried our hand at "surf fishing". This DEFINITELY was NOT pond fishing. I couldn't feel the "bite" and there was that pesky tide to contend with that most of the time only had me reeling in grass and seaweed. The week wasn't a total bust though with fishing. I did catch my first spot and a croaker off that beach.

The next year we went down, we asked more questions at the bait and tackle shop and the gentleman at the counter asked me if I had tried down at the fishing pier. Kitty Hawk Pier was just minutes down the beach from where we stayed and wasn't hard to convince my parents into running down there, especially since it had an arcade and Mark could take his wheelchair out onto the pier and be right on top of the water. Boom. Game changer.

It was so much easier to catch croakers, mullet, spot, and other fish as they basically hung out around the pilings and you could just drop your line down until the pyramid sinker touched the ocean floor. When you feel a nibble, you just pull up. "They basically catch themselves" as Captain Patches of Reel Lucky OBX Charters says. Spot, mullet and croaker are good eatin' too. I spent the next couple years hitting that pier any chance I could during vacation and filling my bucket for a vacation-week fish fry.

Then, one day, the blue fish were so thick that they were hitting bottom rigs. THIS CHANGED MY ENTIRE PERSPECTIVE OF FISHING IN THE OBX FROM THAT DAY FORWARD. I had never noticed the guys out at the end of the pier before, who all would stand in a line, cast straight to avoid crossing each other's line, and repeating until they came up with fish. What were they throwing? Looked like they were casting lures or something. I slowly ventured my way closer to the end just watching. I asked this old timer who was doing the same thing as the guys at the end, but off the side of the pier. "What are you using to catch those bluefish?" He turned to me and showed me what is commonly referred to as a "jerk jigger: or GOT-CHA plug. It had a heavy lead head and a plastic stick body with two sets of SHARP treble hooks. One mid body and one at the tail end. They are so sharp and I am pretty sure that is how they named it. If that hook hits your finger or any other body part...it GOTCHA! The old timer showed me how he had about a 16 inches of 30 lb mono he called a shock leader. The blues and Spanish Mackerel have such sharp teeth and often times they miss your lure and can cut your line off if you don't use a shock leader. He was using basically what we used for Largemouth Bass back home. Just a bass rod with 10lb test line. He showed me how to turn the rod basically upside down off the side of the pier and the action that made the lure dart back and forth with each jerk of the rod. I went to the pier house and tried to do it with the bay rod we brought down that I had been bottom rigging with but I just couldn't cast it. The following year, I brought the old ugly stick and downgraded from Dad's musky rod to a nice 10lb Shakespeare LONG CAST. It was on! I was catching fish and slowly getting to know some of the local fishermen and trying to earn my spot at the end of the pier.

Over the following years I would fish every morning...and sometimes all day. The Spanish Mackerel and Blues would typically give you an early morning bite right around day break and an evening bite just after dinner time. You can probably imagine, if you know me, I talked to every single person who was fishing near me. I had to know everyone, find out what they were catching, where they were from and who was a local and who was a "tourist". I was making new friends every day lol.

We fished at Kitty Hawk Pier during our family vacation from the early 90's until 2003 when hurricane Isabel demolished it. I was devastated. Where were me and all of the other guys I had met over the years going to fish??!! Fortunately, just 4.5 miles down the beach road was Avalon Fishing Pier! About a 9 minute drive, it only meant I had to wake up about ten minutes earlier every morning to get over the water and throw Gotcha plugs. Nearly 20 years now I have been fishing Avalon Pier. For 6 glorious days a year, usually in mid August, making my first cast at around 6am and doing so until about 9:30am, whether there are fish there or not. Then head back to the beach house for some breakfast, beach time, a nap, lunch, then dinner. Once dinner was cleaned up, and sometimes when it wasn't, I would head back to the pier until dark, whether there are fish there or not.

For me it is the social aspect of pier fishing that I enjoy the most. It is seeing Kenny at the front desk every morning as he stamps your hand and tells you what the water is looking like and if there are any bait fish swimming around. The pier has it's own smell. Salty air and fish guts. It is the sound of your wagon and it crossed every plank of the pier in rhythm with your steps as you head to the end of the pier.It is being able to look back towards the pier house down the rails and seeing if anyone is hooking into anything yet and on which side. It is being able to look back and recognize a person's gate and posture as they head East on the pier. It's Brian "Smokestack" Verne coming out before he goes to work. Its Lenny with his coffee, looking down the pilings to see if there are any Cobia swimming around. It is coming back out in the evening after a day on the beach and hearing that when you left that morning the bite really turned on.

There is a LOT of shit talking and practical joking and stories of "initiation" to any of the noobs. It is hearing that "Scotty Jones is here" and looking back only to see his Rick Flair white hair as he makes his way to the end. I swear, no one could have caught a fish for a whole week, but Scotty Jones will catch one in his first three casts. It is the place where NUMEROUS "Fishing with Zach" episodes were filmed.

It is the place where I met Hampton Sylvia when he was just a young whipper snapper. A local kid who could really fish...and he knew it. I watched him grow up over the years and ended up contracting him to make me a custom rod. I still use the rod today. It is where we met Captain Patches for the first time. Grant, Clayton, Ben, Del, Terry, Chris, Murph, Jake, Cory, Troy, Ron, Mr. Parker...and so many more. It is also the place where I met one of my best friends and favorite fishing buddy, Charlie Roberts.

Some of the people whom I hold closest to my heart I met fishing. Life long friendships.

Tight Lines,

Michael S. Males

AVALON FISHING PIER

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