Fishing for Answers 

 in Curritwk Sound 



He raises the tip of his fishing rod and, 

 with an experienced flip of the wrist, 

 tosses a Texas-rigged plastic worm into 

 the floating grass. 



Jim Easley knows bass fishing among 

 the marsh islands of Currituck Sound isn't 

 what it used to be, but he comes back 

 every year, hoping for a miracle. 



The lure flies and the reel zings, break- 

 ing the silence of this desolate place. But 

 no fish bites. After a few dozen casts, 

 Easley gives up and moves on. 



He laments the decline of the large- 

 mouth bass in Currituck and wonders if 

 the right people are doing the right things 

 to maintain the fishery. He wonders just 

 where the problem lies. 



"I've been coming here for at least 14 

 years," he says. "Used to, you could go 

 out there and catch lots of fish in no 

 time, and big ones too. But now, you're 

 lucky to even see one break the water." 



Easley, an economist at North Carolina 

 State University, says the largemouth bass 

 fishery means big business to North Caro- 

 lina. In 1985, the last year figures were 

 available, fishermen spent just under 

 1 1 million man-days trying to get large- 

 mouth bass to bite. 



"That's just over half the total hours 

 spent on all freshwater fishing in the 

 state," he says. "This says something 

 about the role of that critter in attracting 

 fishing for North Carolina." 



Jarvisburg native William Wright, a fish- 

 ing and hunting guide for about 50 years, 

 recalls the last time he or anyone had a 

 great day fishing in Currituck Sound. 



"It was the first day of May in 1983," 

 he says. "I remember it so well because 

 we caught 36 fish. But these days, boy it's 

 tight. There haven't been that many fish 

 here in a long time." 



Wright doesn't have any pat answers 

 about why the largemouth bass population 

 in Currituck— once one of the most pro- 

 ductive in the world— has declined so rap- 

 idly. He's no biologist either, but his 

 experience tells him that the primary 

 problem is people. 



Back in 1983, 1984 and 1985, fishing 

 pressure was the highest he'd ever seen it. 

 "The fishermen came and they took mil- 

 lions of fish out of here, the breeding ones 



Jim Easley 



By C.R. Edgerton 



included," he says. "And when you take 

 the breeding ones out, they're gone. 



"There's some little bass in there," he 

 says. "We've watched the shoreline and 

 seen them. But what we can't see is 

 where they lay their eggs." 



He says the sportfishermen aren't en- 

 tirely to blame. Men who set and drag gill 

 nets for other types of fish catch their 

 share of largemouths. They're required by 

 law to release them, but most of them are 

 damaged and don't survive. 



Warren Austin of Barco, who retired 

 from the Coast Guard 12 years ago to 

 work as a fishing and hunting guide, has 

 his own theories about the decline of the 

 bass fishery in Currituck Sound. 



"It's dirty water, pollution, pure and 

 simple," he says. "Mankind's destroyed it. 

 There's too much building around the 

 sound. What we need is some salt water 

 to come in here and flush it out and then 

 let the fresh water come back in and start 

 all over again." 



But only nature could allow that to 

 happen. "The only way to get an inlet is 

 to have a hurricane open one up," Austin 

 says. "I don't think the state is interested 

 in cutting an inlet into Currituck from the 

 ocean." 



Every Garden of Eden has its 

 serpent. 



In Currituck it 's the cotton- 

 mouth. 



"The cottonmouth is about the 

 meanest thing they is, " says hunt- 

 ing and fishing guide William 

 Wright. He recently killed a mocca- 

 sin that measured nine inches 

 around and 67 inches long. 



"The local people tell stories of 

 water moccasins chasing people for 

 miles, " says one Currituck 

 observer. 



But they don 't mention snakes 

 when they 're trying to sell sound- 

 front property on the banks. 



Prospective property buyers don 't 

 realize that Currituck is a fresh 

 water sound. It has the appeal of a 

 lake but the soul, and creatures, of 

 a swamp. 



Wright and fellow guide Warren 

 Austin swear to the truth of local 

 snake stories. 



Both men say it 's not unusual for 

 a water snake to crawl into a boat 

 in the sound. 



"The moccasin, she's aggressive," 

 Austin says. "Especially if she's 

 carrying babies." 



Mother Nature hasn't allowed salt water 

 to rule in Currituck since 1828. That 

 year, a powerful hurricane grabbed Curri- 



Continued on the next page 



Photo by C.R. Edgerton 



