There are certain types of fishing that, no matter how many times you do them, never seem to lose their appeal. For me, blackfishing is near the top of that list. I’ve caught plenty of tog over the years, but every October I still look forward to getting back over the rocks and feeling those first taps.
I know what that bite feels like. I know what happens when a good fish finally commits to the crab, you come tight and immediately realize you’re attached to something with no intention of leaving the bottom. I’ve been broken off, rocked up, pulled hooks and missed more bites than I could ever count, yet I still want to do it all over again.
Maybe that’s because tog fishing is incredibly simple on the surface, but never really easy. Find some structure, drop a crab down and wait for a bite. That sounds straightforward enough, but anyone who has spent time targeting blackfish knows there is much more happening beneath the boat.
Sometimes moving just a few feet makes all the difference. One person can be getting bites every drop while someone standing right alongside him can’t buy one. There are days when you feel like you have the bite completely figured out and others when every tog manages to steal your bait without ever giving you a clean shot.
That challenge is a big part of what keeps me interested. You can spend years fishing for tog and still have days when they humble you. Just when you think you have everything dialed in, the fish have a way of reminding you that there is always more to learn.
Then there’s the bite itself. You feel that first little tap and immediately become more focused, waiting to see what comes next. Another tap follows, the fish starts to commit and suddenly all your attention is locked on what is happening at the end of the line.
Then you swing. What happens over the next several seconds is one of the biggest reasons I keep coming back. A tog’s first instinct is to get right back into whatever piece of structure it came out of, and a good one can make you question just how tight your drag really is.
You’re pulling one way, the fish is pulling the other and somewhere below you is a rock, wreck or piece of bottom that fish knows much better than you do. Win that first battle and you’ve got a chance. Lose it and you’re probably tying on another jig.
There’s something about that close-quarters fight that never gets old. Tog don’t need long runs or open water to make things interesting. Most of the battle happens directly beneath your feet, and the first few seconds usually determine who’s going to win.
Here on Long Island, part of the excitement is simply waiting for the fall season to arrive. For 2026, the Long Island Sound region opens to recreational blackfishing on October 11 with a 16-inch minimum size and a three-fish daily limit. The NY Bight region opens October 15 with the same 16-inch minimum and a four-fish daily limit.
Those opening dates have become something many anglers circle on the calendar. By then, the mornings are cooler, summer is clearly fading and the shallow-water tog bite becomes a major part of the conversation again. The Sound season runs through December 9, while the Bight remains open through December 22, though anglers should always check the latest regulations before heading out.
Blackfishing itself has changed quite a bit, too. Traditional rigs and heavier conventional tackle still catch plenty of fish, but jig fishing has changed the way many of us target tog. Light spinning rods, thin braid and small jigs have made the fishery even more interactive.
You feel nearly everything happening down there, from the jig touching bottom to a crab being picked apart. That added sensitivity makes every bite feel a little more personal. It also makes the battle with a quality fish that much more exciting once you set the hook.
Lately, I’ve even been experimenting more with artificial crabs. I’ve had outings where they’ve caught just as well, and in some cases even better, than the real thing. That alone proves there are still new wrinkles to explore in a fishery many of us have participated in for years.
And maybe that’s really what keeps blackfishing interesting. You never completely figure them out. Just when you think you have the bite mastered, you’ll miss the next three or watch someone next to you hook a fish you never knew was there.
There’s also something about blackfishing that simply feels like fall in the Northeast. Cool mornings, sweatshirts, a bucket of crabs on the deck and that first run to a favorite rock pile are all signs another season has arrived. For many anglers, those things are as much a part of October as changing leaves.
For some fishermen, October means stripers. For others, it’s the final offshore runs of the year or chasing albies along the beaches. But for a dedicated group of anglers, October means it’s time to get back over the rocks.
And whether you’ve caught your first tog or your thousandth, the feeling is remarkably similar when that first tap comes through the rod. You stop talking, stare at the rod tip and wait for one more tap. Then you swing, and the whole process starts over again.
That’s why tog never get old.
