Well, here's a report I hoped I wouldn't find myself writing... After weeks of complaining about rough conditions, and daydreaming about finally getting a good day to get after some fish, the good weather finally showed up. Yesterday was beautiful, with a slow swell and reasonably light wind. Now I could redeem some of the poor fishing days I've had recently. I picked up Matt, Chris, and Grayson at Surf City Park for a half day nearshore trip. Matt had specifically asked me to keep us close to shore, but I was pretty confident that, with all the king activity last week at the piers, and lots of bait along the beach, we'd be in good shape. Maybe I was a little too confident... I put cigar minnows out just past the sea buoy, recalling the nice king that Friday's group had hooked up in this same area. We were marking a lot of fish and bait just along the tide line, but not getting any action. I saw one big king come out of the water less than 50 yards from us, but nothing seemed interested in our baits. After a while, the rest of the weekend warriors came steaming out of the inlet, where several of them stopped and started setting out lines. After one yo-yo trolled right across my bow (how I didn't pick up his lines I'll never know), I decided to leave the crowd behind and head for "the hump" a few miles away. I can't say it's been a hot spot, but it has produced fairly consistently and there's almost never a crowd there. After multiple circles, figure eights, and zig zags without so much as a bump, I could see the crew was starting to look pretty bored. Grayson (due to a mix of teenager and Dramamine) nodded off into a pretty deep nap. Matt was looking at his phone. These aren't the things a captain wants to see. I suggested that we switch it up and put out some spoons. If nothing else, we'd be moving faster and would have a breeze (it was pretty danged hot). Hopefully, this would give us a shot at some of the Spanish mackerel we'd seen breaking the surface. A little action always ups the mood... Pulling in the lines, I popped the downrigger line loose. Instead of rising to the surface, the line stayed down. I pulled on it and felt some weight. I knew a little shark had taken the bait, but wasn't even big or energetic enough to trip the rigger clip. I started to just reel him in, but felt like maybe Grayson would like the opportunity. We woke him up, but at first he thought we were just messing with him and wouldn't take the rod. When he finally did, though, the little Atlantic Sharpnose didn't even try to resist. Grayson didn't say anything, but I could tell it was fairly anticlimactic And that, my fishing friends, was about as exciting as the day got. We pulled spoons for a couple of hours, at one point circling a big school of feeding fish, and never got a strike. Watching the other boats in the area showed that we were not alone in our frustration. There's not much worse than watching fish literally jumping out of the water, and not being able to get them to bite. Finally, with five or six other boats crowding the area, I made the call to pull out and move south. As time ran out on the half day trip, I offered to extend the day if the crew wanted, so we could run further south and try to find some hungry fish. Sometimes that's just what it takes. But they'd had enough, so we threw in the towel. I stopped the boat to haul in the lines, and just as we slowed, one of the rods started bouncing. It's one of the oldest cliches in fishing, I think, that the minute you say, "let's go home," the fish start biting. Well, there you go! Unfortunately, it was just the lone Spanish mackerel, and I think the Clark spoon must have just dropped into his mouth by accident. He didn't even seem to have the energy to fight when Matt reeled him in. We decided to make a few circuits to see if we could pick up a few more, but it wasn't happening. The crew was done for today, already talking about napping on the beach with a cold drink. We've had some tough fishing days this season, but this may have been the toughest. I know the dog days of summer can slow the fishing, especially nearshore, but I hate to sound like I'm making excuses. Maybe we could have done better if we had run offshore... or maybe not. At the end of the day, the fact is that, no matter how hard the captain tries, sometimes you just can't make the fish bite.