Tautoga Onitis
If you were to judge a fish by looks alone as an indicator of its worthiness, then it’s a fair bet few anglers would show much interest in tautog, given it has all the sex appeal of, say, haggis. For starters, only Mick Jagger might be envious of a tog’s lips. The fish’s teeth are a mangled mess, bad enough to make Austin Powers’ chompers look like a Robert Redford grin. The fish’s body is more “country strong” than cross-fit sculpted. Tautog, also called blackfish in more northern waters, has a head that looks like a nose tackle who’s taken a few too many snaps, or a boxer that should have thrown in the towel years ago. You get the point.
Yet beauty is in the eye of the beholder, is it not? With that in mind, a tog’s coloration may be somewhat muted compared to other fish, with hues ranging from greenish-black or grayish brown topside accented with irregular bars on its flanks, but closer inspection reveals some intricate patterns. It has a tail as broad and powerful as a paddle, and the fish knows how to use it to resist the pull of a fisherman’s rod and reel. A good number of the large male fish sport a white chin, hipster style; small males and females have a black chin. A slow-grower, the average tautog reaches about 12 inches, though it has been noted in scientific literature that they can live for more than 30 years.
Make no mistake: what it might lack in physical beauty it more than makes up for in fighting spirit and taste. Tog are a rugged gamefish found year-round in area waters, hugging coastal wrecks and reefs as well as taking up station on other structure near the mouth of the Chesapeake. It is occasionally caught on reefs as far north as the Choptank River. Tog spawn from late April to early August in the lower Bay and offshore, as the female releases approximately 200,000 eggs that, after becoming larvae, turn bright green until they reach sexual maturity after spending a few years in protected grass beds.
I’d never be confused with a dedicated tog chaser, but I do try to get out after them at least once a year. And after each trip when I’ve been fortunate enough to tangle with a blackfish I come away with a greater respect for the species as a sport fish. But don’t take my word for it. Listen to Ken Neill, III of Seaford, VA, who is the current Virginia State Record holder with a mammoth 24-pound, three-ounce tautog he caught in March 2012 on the Morgan Wreck.
“Tautog fight hard at any size, and the larger fish can be a real challenge to get out of the structure. There is a skill to hooking a tog, and they can make even an experienced angler feel silly at times, “ says Neill, who serves as president of the Peninsula Salt Water Sport Fisherman’s Association. “They are a challenging fish that we can target during the cold months when not many other fish are around.”
And then there’s this from Craig Weedon, a fisheries biologist with Maryland’s Department of Natural Resources. He’s a fan and calls the tautog fishing he’s experienced off Ocean City “superb.” As you’d expect of a fish that inhabits hardened, often unforgiving structure, the tautog diet is heavy on shellfish—clams, crabs, mussels, barnacles and the like. This is where togs’ gnarly, vice-like teeth earn their keep. Also, interesting enough they only feed during the day.
If you’re wondering about the health of the population in Delmarva waters, it’s a bit of a mixed bag. Weedon says the most recent regional stock assessment conducted in 2013 for the Atlantic States Marine Fisheries Commission concluded that although the stock size was below the desired level, the fishing mortality rate was on track to rebuild tog numbers. By the end of October, the ASMFC is expected to release results of an updated stock assessment.
by Captain Chris D. Dollar
Friday, November 4, 2016 - 08:30
Tautoga Onitis
If you were to judge a fish by looks alone as an indicator of its worthiness, then it’s a fair bet few anglers would show much interest in tautog, given it has all the sex appeal of, say, haggis. For starters, only Mick Jagger might be envious of a tog’s lips. The fish’s teeth are a mangled mess, bad enough to make Austin Powers’ chompers look like a Robert Redford grin. The fish’s body is more “country strong” than cross-fit sculpted. Tautog, also called blackfish in more northern waters, has a head that looks like a nose tackle who’s taken a few too many snaps, or a boxer that should have thrown in the towel years ago. You get the point.
Yet beauty is in the eye of the beholder, is it not? With that in mind, a tog’s coloration may be somewhat muted compared to other fish, with hues ranging from greenish-black or grayish brown topside accented with irregular bars on its flanks, but closer inspection reveals some intricate patterns. It has a tail as broad and powerful as a paddle, and the fish knows how to use it to resist the pull of a fisherman’s rod and reel. A good number of the large male fish sport a white chin, hipster style; small males and females have a black chin. A slow-grower, the average tautog reaches about 12 inches, though it has been noted in scientific literature that they can live for more than 30 years.
Make no mistake: what it might lack in physical beauty it more than makes up for in fighting spirit and taste. Tog are a rugged gamefish found year-round in area waters, hugging coastal wrecks and reefs as well as taking up station on other structure near the mouth of the Chesapeake. It is occasionally caught on reefs as far north as the Choptank River. Tog spawn from late April to early August in the lower Bay and offshore, as the female releases approximately 200,000 eggs that, after becoming larvae, turn bright green until they reach sexual maturity after spending a few years in protected grass beds.
I’d never be confused with a dedicated tog chaser, but I do try to get out after them at least once a year. And after each trip when I’ve been fortunate enough to tangle with a blackfish I come away with a greater respect for the species as a sport fish. But don’t take my word for it. Listen to Ken Neill, III of Seaford, VA, who is the current Virginia State Record holder with a mammoth 24-pound, three-ounce tautog he caught in March 2012 on the Morgan Wreck.
“Tautog fight hard at any size, and the larger fish can be a real challenge to get out of the structure. There is a skill to hooking a tog, and they can make even an experienced angler feel silly at times, “ says Neill, who serves as president of the Peninsula Salt Water Sport Fisherman’s Association. “They are a challenging fish that we can target during the cold months when not many other fish are around.”
And then there’s this from Craig Weedon, a fisheries biologist with Maryland’s Department of Natural Resources. He’s a fan and calls the tautog fishing he’s experienced off Ocean City “superb.” As you’d expect of a fish that inhabits hardened, often unforgiving structure, the tautog diet is heavy on shellfish—clams, crabs, mussels, barnacles and the like. This is where togs’ gnarly, vice-like teeth earn their keep. Also, interesting enough they only feed during the day.
If you’re wondering about the health of the population in Delmarva waters, it’s a bit of a mixed bag. Weedon says the most recent regional stock assessment conducted in 2013 for the Atlantic States Marine Fisheries Commission concluded that although the stock size was below the desired level, the fishing mortality rate was on track to rebuild tog numbers. By the end of October, the ASMFC is expected to release results of an updated stock assessment.
by Captain Chris D. Dollar