Cobia can be unpredictable at times, both shy and aggressive, but they’re always enjoyable.
Ric Burnley
After hours standing on the bow of my 20-foot center-console in the blazing sun, my mind felt as if it had cooked like a pie. My vision was hazy, and my skin had turned red.
As we gradually cruised the ocean, the serene green water and the clear blue sky blended into one sweltering, expansive void. So when I spotted a long, brown fish gliding just beneath the surface, I shook my head and blinked. A second glance confirmed my observation.
“COBIA! COBIA! COBIA!” I shouted to my brother, Roger, who was steering the boat.
He whispered: “Where? Where? Where?” as if his voice might startle the fish we had been pursuing all day.
I pointed at the brown beast and shouted again: “COBIA! COBIA! COBIA!”
### Spring and Summer Cobia in North Carolina
The mid-Atlantic cobia fishing phenomenon began a couple of decades ago off North Carolina’s Outer Banks; local captain Aaron Kelly of Rock Solid Fishing was among the first to focus on sight-casting. On a May morning, I joined Kelly for a day on the water to learn this method. We met at Oregon Inlet Fishing Center; he carried several heavy spinning rods and a bucket of lively eels. Minutes later, his crew of three skilled anglers arrived. We boarded Kelly’s 27-foot center-console and departed the marina under sunny skies and gentle winds.
Once we entered the open Atlantic, Kelly ascended his three-story tower and secured himself in the crow’s nest. Without electronic devices up there, he equipped himself with a laser thermometer in one hand and a large spinning rod in the other. He instructed a crew member to head the boat south and accelerate.
As we passed Pea Island and Rodanthe Village, Kelly called out water temperature readings: 65, 66, 67 degrees. When we reached 68, we slowed and began searching for fish. Kelly stated that cobia prefer water temperatures between 68 and 73.5 degrees. He searches for fish from the mouth of Oregon Inlet to Diamond Shoals and from the surf line out to Whimble Shoals. Wrecks, reefs, tide lines, and even large rays and turtles can host cobia, but they often swim out in the open.
We meandered south, staying a few miles from the shore, with everyone scanning the surface as Kelly continued checking the water temperature. By the time we reached the iconic candy-striped Hatteras Lighthouse, the ocean was crystal clear and at 72 degrees.
“There’s one,” Kelly shouted from his tower. After a few seconds, I finally spotted the large brown fish, about 50 yards away, steadily approaching the boat. The driver took the diesel engine out of gear. The angler on the bow made an excellent cast, landing his bucktail directly in front of the fish.
But the cobia got scared and dashed my hopes, until Kelly yelled, “There he is!” and pointed to the fish, which was now lying on the bottom about 20 feet below. “Drop your bucktail and jig it,” he ordered. The angler opened the bail and let the bucktail sink. We watched the bright-orange lure descend until it rested next to what appeared to be a heavy log. The log darted forward, and the angler’s line became taut. “That’s how it’s done!” Kelly yelled.
After we landed the fish, Kelly explained to me how it is performed.
### Cobia Sight Fishing Tactics
“Boat speed is crucial,” he began, explaining that each boat engine emits distinct sounds and vibrations at varying speeds. Every captain must adjust to find what best suits their boat. “Get the pitch of the motor right, and they will come to you.”
If the fish isn’t on a direct path, Kelly positions the boat to intercept it at an angle. “The worst case scenario is to T-bone one,” he said. “Don’t shift the engine out of gear or change your speed.”
Kelly always has one angler prepared with a live eel and another with a bucktail. When the boat is within 25 yards of the fish, he instructs his first angler to cast. “I start with the eel, then follow up with a bucktail,” he said. If a cobia doesn’t respond to those first casts, Kelly presents the fish with a different bait. “You can toss a spot, croaker, bluefish, or mullet at them – I’ve even caught cobia on an oyster toad,” he shared.
Once a cobia takes the bait, Kelly immediately moves away from the fish. “You need to set the hook and keep tension on the fish,” he explained. “Many guys try to reel in fish from a stationary boat.”
If a cobia spooks, Kelly keeps a lookout. “Often, the fish will resurface, heading in the same direction. Keep an eye out the back of the boat too. They frequently come up behind you.”
For Kelly, ideal cobia conditions include bait presence, good water visibility, and a light current. “Locate a temperature break or an area of stagnant current near Cape Point [off Cape Hatteras],” he advised, “and you’ll find the fish.” The perfect cobia day would feature a 10 to 15 mph southwest wind. “That aligns the wind and current, which pushes fish to the surface.”
Even on less-than-ideal days, Kelly can still hook cobia. “We’ve had days when we caught 30 fish in the wind and rain,” he noted. When the sky is overcast, he’ll toss out a block of menhaden chum and wait for the fish to approach.
Kelly targets cobia from early May through mid-September; however, by June, most fish migrate to Chesapeake Bay. That’s where I began my pursuit in early June with Capt. Ben Shepard of Above Average Sportfishing, one of the first captains to adopt sight-casting in Virginia.
Historically, anglers in the state would anchor down and chum for cobia, attracting everything from massive rays to lively sharks. Years ago, Shepard learned the sight-fishing technique in Florida and introduced it back home.
### Virginia Cobia on Bucktails
“We’ll meet at 10 a.m.,” Shepard told me over the phone. “What time?” I asked, surprised. “Ten,” he reiterated, “no rush.” I agreed but still arrived early at Bubba’s Marina in Virginia Beach. Shepard and his friend Jason Legg had already launched Shepard’s bay boat. By the time we left Lynnhaven Inlet, the sun was high, and the air was still and hot: perfect for spotting cobia.
We didn’t travel far. Shepard headed toward Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel, the 17-mile structure that spans the mouth of the bay, and continued up Thimble Shoal toward Norfolk. About a mile north of the bridge, we stopped in the open water to start scanning for brown fish. We didn’t look for long.
“Cobia,” Shepard declared. I strained my eyes and eventually spotted the fish cruising 50 yards off the bow.
Eagerly, I readied to cast a live eel with a spinning rod. Shepard stopped me. “That’s just a small fish,” he said. “Use this.” He handed me a lighter rod with a 1-ounce yellow bucktail jig.
The rod’s flexible tip allowed me to cast the light lure close enough to attract the small cobia. I retrieved the jig across the surface, and the cobia went wild – twisting, striking, and demolishing the small lure.
After landing and releasing the 30-pounder, Shepard explained that he’s caught cobia of all sizes on that little yellow jig. “I don’t know what they believe it is,” he admitted, “but cobia can’t resist that thing.”
To the jig hook, attach a rubber twister tail in pink, orange, chartreuse, or white; the tail helps prevent the jig from dropping too quickly.
For larger fish, he employs a 2- to 3-ounce bucktail. “You want a lot of hair and a big rubber tail so the bucktail sinks slower,” he noted.
Similar to Kelly, Shepard usually starts with the eel. “A perfect cast lands five feet from the fish’s head,” he says. When a cobia bites, he tells his angler to open the bail and let the cobia take the bait for a few seconds before closing the bail to tighten the line.
“When you throw the bucktail, jig it quickly and vigorously,” he explained. Shepard has observed that each cobia reacts differently to the jig. “If they’re not very interested, slow it down,” he advises, “do something different.”
### Finding Cobia on Chesapeake Bay
With Shepard’s advice echoing in my mind, we continued north up Thimble Channel. Shepard mentioned that the fish first appear in late May along Thimble Shoal or Baltimore Channel. “From year to year, they seem to favor one over the other,” he remarked.
Water temperature is crucial for spotting cobia, he stated. A pocket of water that is cooler or warmer than the surrounding bay may hold fish. Look for inconsistencies such as tide lines, floating debris, or water color changes. Shepard also prefers at least some current.
By June, the fish disperse throughout the open bay. “We just cruise around looking for fins,” he said, which was exactly our plan that early June day.
After navigating Thimble Shoal Channel, Shepard changed direction and headed northeast across Horseshoe Shoal. Almost as soon as we reached the edge of Baltimore Channel, we spotted another fish. Shepard pointed toward a cluster of small, purple jellyfish formed by a tide line. This cobia was larger.
Jason Legg took the cast, landing the eel just a few feet from the fish’s head. The wriggling bait sank slowly. As expected, the large cobia didn’t let the eel escape. Legg tightened the line, and the battle began.
The fish ran, bulldogged, and jumped twice, trying to lift its hefty, brown body from the water. Once the fish exhausted its considerable energy, Shepard gaffed the 60-pounder and dispatched it with an aluminum club to prevent the cobia from causing chaos on deck.
### World-Class Cobia Fishing
With the fish photographed and stored in the fish box, we returned to the tower of the bay boat, and Shepard continued sharing insights about cobia fishing in the bay. “Later in the summer, cobia gather around any structure in the lower bay, from bridge pilings to rocks, buoys, tide lines, and temperature breaks,” he said.
By the end of September, cobia exit the bay, and anglers find fantastic action along Virginia Beach’s oceanfront at buoys and tide lines. Shepard noted he often sees schools of 10 to 50 fish; once, he spotted a pod with at least 300 cobia. Both Shepard and Kelly have reported impressive catches from the Outer Banks to Virginia, averaging 200 to 250 cobia per season.
Kelly’s best day ever occurred in early spring. “We arrived at the Hook (inside Cape Point) at 7 a.m., and we were right in the action,” he told me, still buzzing with excitement from that day. “I looked to my left and saw 20, then to my right and saw another 15. There were singles, pairs, triples; they were all clustered together. It was game on. We began landing them.”
So many fish and only two anglers. Faced with the opportunity for a remarkable day, Kelly understood he needed additional help. He called one of his most dedicated clients, and the guy drove to the beach, swimming out to Kelly’s boat. The three anglers worked like a well-oiled machine, casting, hooking, fighting, unhooking, and casting again until they had caught and released 72 cobia. “I’d never witnessed anything like that before,” he reflected.
With cobia fishing improving yearly, anglers visiting the Outer Banks and Chesapeake Bay have a genuine chance of witnessing something extraordinary. “Scout around for cobia,” Shepard encouraged, “and you’ll be amazed by what you see.”
### Cobia Tackle Requirements
Sight-casting for cobia may be the simplest fishing experience ever imagined. “Just cruise around all day and look for fish,” Capt. Shepard advised. Rigging for these fish is straightforward too.
Two setups cover all your cobia needs: a heavy-action spinning rod with a firm tip for casting a bucktail and a lighter rod with a slower bend for tossing an eel. Both rods should be at least 7 feet long; reels should be able to accommodate enough 50-pound braid and generate sufficient drag to tire out a 100-pound cobia.
To rig the bucktail rod, use a Bimini/Albright connection to double the main line, and attach 3 feet of 60-pound fluorocarbon along with a brightly colored 2- to 3-ounce bucktail. On the jig hook, add a rubber twister tail in pink, orange, chartreuse, or white; this tail prevents the jig from sinking too rapidly. For the lighter rod, use a similar length of 40-pound fluorocarbon and an 8/0 Gamakatsu Octopus Circle hook.
When Shepard encounters smaller cobia, he opts for a medium-action spinning rod that can easily cast a 1/8-ounce bucktail.
Overcast skies don’t deter cobia enthusiasts from the water: When the sun hides, Shepard and Kelly deploy a block of menhaden chum and let their live eels drift through known cobia hotspots.