We moved out to 525 feet of water. “Below us are the ancient shores from the Ice Ages,” Ralph said. “They start at depths of 180 and have 15- to 50-foot drops, and some are silt-covered, and that’s where the fish live. You find the fish and work them at those depths.”

Ralph Deiph of Key West jigged up this snowy grouper from 375 feet.

The snowies’ hits on the jigs felt solid and sure, not hesitant at all. Maybe that’s because I’m more familiar with black and red grouper in shallower water, which strike quickly, and stealthily, and are quick to drop baits, and muttons, whose violent on-the-run strikes feel like bank heists in action. Snowies obligingly grabbed the jig and held it until you set the hook. Rob attributed their cooperative behavior to a lack of fishing pressure. The snowies pounced on our jigs so readily, we had to move on to look for other species.

Over 600 feet of water we drifted along a swath of productive hard bottom and caught tilefish, more snowies, and rosefish, a member of the ocean perch family, which are also well known for their food value. Billy tried an outfit with 20-pound braid and it would not hit bottom, which illustrates the difference a minor increase in line diameter makes in the ability to fish these depths. Meanwhile, Rob tried a spinning reel outfit with 1,000 feet on the spool and glow worms on his jig.

“We use lures with flash, and jigs with plastic glow worms to catch their attention down deep,” he said. The rosefish and tilefish were crazy for those glow worms.

“He’s a great experimenter,” his father said about him. “I’ve also got a huge spot near here that I call The Pit. It’s a wide, round hole with 100-foot drops and it goes from 640 feet to 1,500 feet. There are wreckfish down there. They get huge, up to hundreds of pounds.”

We picked up fish as we drifted. Such long drifts are possible over wide areas of productive terrain, either hard bottom or long ledges, but it takes constant exploration and examination of your depthfinder to locate them on your own. Ralph constantly scanned that monitor and told us when to drop for a fish. Basically, we were hunting specific fish from 700 feet away.

Ralph Delph agrees that the speed of the current can be a limiting factor for the technique. A 1- to 1.2-knot current, or more, makes the jigging awfully hard, he says, and to do it you’d have to set up your drift along ledges that run the same direction as the current. A 1⁄ 2-knot current can be perfect, because it allows you to cover bottom territory on your drift while not running so hard to make dropping even small-diameter lines difficult.

As Ralph unhooked the day’s last grouper, a sailfish materialized off the bow.

“A sail! What do I have for it?” He had his jig in hand and put the grouper in the box. “For these pelagics,” he continued, “it’s important to throw your lure out front of them and let it drop. Ninety percent of strikes occur on the drop.” He cast toward the stern. The sail dove for the lure. Ralph let it take before he tightened down and hooked the fish, and the fight began. “This is part of the gingerbread of this fishing,” he said. “Sails, wahoo, tuna come along as you go.”

“People have a mental barrier to jigging in depths beyond 500 feet,” Ralph commented, “but as you see, it’s easy to do. A little child could do it, with a little supervision. People will say, why do I want to work so hard to bring the fish up so far? But isn’t that fun? And when you can get a fish with almost every drop, isn’t that worth it? Even if catching fish tires you out, isn’t that worth it?”

I’d say it’s worth it. Going beyond our normal range to explore and experiment with something new keeps days on the water fresh and fun.

FS