
The journey of the surfcaster can be mapped out in plugs.
I don’t believe that there are intrinsically “good” or “bad” plugs. Sure, when it comes to hand-crafted wooden plugs, the weighting, craftsmanship and design have a direct impact on how well they will perform, but that’s not what I am talking about. I have purchased or received fancy-looking plugs that were stunning works of art. Sadly, many of them fished poorly. Conversely, I have acquired more pedestrian-looking plugs, devoid of fancy paint, that caught hundreds of fish. Those details are matters of craftsmanship versus aesthetics, but that’s not what I am concerned with here either.
Instead, I am referring to the effectiveness of popular lure styles – more generally – and ruminating on the question: “what plugs are the best for the surf?” I’m not sure I know the answer to this question, and I’d surmise that you don’t either. We all have our preferences, but that topic seems too broad and subjective to tackle with decisiveness or authority. What is more important, is to know what works best based on your local waters, the goals that you have, and the style of fishing that you enjoy.
Perhaps a better question to explore is, “why is there a noticeable difference in the types of plugs used by the novice vs. the experienced surfcaster?” This exploration will be more fruitful than my subjective opinion on my favorite plugs and may shed some light on why our preferences change over time.
Blasphemy!
I am getting acid reflux even writing this, but I don’t believe that widely coveted wooden plugs like a Beachmaster needlefish, a Franktown Metal Lip, or an RG Glider, for example, is “better” than a Daiwa SP Minnow, a Yo-Zuri Hydro Minnow or Mag Darter, at least not unequivocally, or because of some intrinsic voodoo bestowed on hand-made plugs. That statement, taken out of context, would make many experienced surfcasters laugh as it is, at face value, a seemingly blasphemous proclamation, but hear me out. I have observed in others, and experienced firsthand, what I refer to as The Plug Progression. Over time, there is often an evolution of what kinds of plugs are used by the novice surfcaster and the experienced surfcaster. But that evolution likely occurs for different reasons than you think, and effectiveness is not necessarily, and certainly not exclusively, at the top of that list.
For the novice, it should be no surprise that mass-produced, plastic-molded lures often occupy a large portion of the surf-fishing repertoire. Large lure companies like Daiwa, Yo-Zuri, and Cotton Cordell produce tried and true lure styles that undeniably catch fish. These mass-produced baits come in a variety of color patterns and have a lot of science and engineering baked into their designs, weighting mechanisms and weight-transfer systems, allowing for variations in casting distance, depth of swimming and predictable performance. These lures are relatively affordable, hold up well and are widely available.
Another allure for the novice is that these popular minnow-style lures require very little “input” from the surfcaster. Most of them impart their own “action” simply by retrieving them through the water. The Daiwa Salt Pro Minnow (SP), arguably the most popular of these kinds of lures, exhibits a tight S-pattern swimming action that is irresistible to fish of all sizes. The sizes of the baits differ, but the most common sizes mimic a wide variety of natural bait like mackerel, herring and bunker, all common targets for striped bass in the Northeast, making them a great option for surfcasters of all skill levels.

Getting Somewhere
Based on my comments above, one would assume that my plug bag is loaded with SP Minnows and Mag Darters, but it’s not. When I started surfcasting, I was extraordinarily clueless. I didn’t grow up around fishermen and went into this headfirst with nothing but passion. In fact, I didn’t even own a surf belt or waders. I used to carry a hard plastic bait organizer around the beaches, usually fishing in basketball shorts and a T-shirt, but ironically those early years occupy some of my favorite fishing memories because I had no expectations of surfcasting grandeur. I was simply trying to catch fish. Size and weight were afterthoughts, and many times my inexperience worked to my advantage because I just fished whenever my schedule allowed. I didn’t overthink tides or spots or moon phases. I just went as often as I could and fumbled along. And guess what? I almost exclusively used SP Minnows and Storm shads from Walmart, and I often did extremely well. Were the fish huge? Not usually, but I caught a lot of fish and in me grew a blistering obsession to figure out how to improve.
These days things are very different. After a few years of trying to find my way on my own, I started to seek out other surfcasters who could teach me about the proper gear, wetsuits, boots, waterproof reels, and a wide array of new plugs. I currently carry two identical two-tube surf bags on my belt, for a total of four tubes of plug storage. I copied this set up from my buddy Frank as I was finding myself off-balance on boulders with one bulky three-tube bag on my hip. With this set up I can comfortably fit three or four plugs in each tube depending on the style of plugs, so on any given night I have 12 to 16 plugs available on my belt.
The selection that I bring changes very little over the course of the season. I may swap a few sizes in response to the bait that is present but overall, my arsenal looks something like this. Darters, one dark and one bright, needlefish of various sinking speeds, metal lips, soft plastics (weighted and unweighted), perhaps a glide bait or subsurface swimming plug, and sometimes one “last resort” plug, or “skunk saver” as I jokingly call them, usually the Yo-Zuri Mag Darter or a Redfin.
It’s ironic that the “skunk saver” plugs are now my last resort on nights that are slow. It seems a little counter-intuitive to only use those lures when I’m desperate for a bite. If they are so effective in saving the night, then why don’t I reach for them more often? I can tell you it’s not because I think they don’t work. They do.
Hear Me Out
When I sat down to write this, I had to conjure some honest introspection as to why this lure progression occurred for me personally. It is easy for me to oversimplify the progression and just assume that I am wiser now and more experienced. This experience has surely led to being a better surfcaster and I therefore no longer need to rely on those “amateur plugs.” Right? Not entirely.
Like many subjects I tackle, the truth is a little deeper than that, and one that is partly pragmatic and partly more sentimental. It is true that having a wider command of different lures has made me more equipped to face the endless number of conditions we encounter in the surf. There is no denying that. There are nights where I need that needlefish to reach the fish. Sometimes a perfect sweep sets up and I can’t get a darter out of my bag fast enough, or I find that the fish are holding deep and I pull out a sinking needle to fish the lower water column. I wouldn’t deny that learning these lures was a natural progression in response to needing to solve problems in the surf. But what’s equally true is that I got tired of simply retrieving an SP minnow through the water column.
Somewhere along the way I felt ready for new challenges. I saw other guys that I looked up to using all kinds of plugs that seemed foreign to me. I vividly remember seeing a needlefish in a tackle shop and thinking how stupid it looked. Why would a fish bite something that looks like a stick? I was intrigued. Such curiosities reignited my fire to learn new things and to gradually put aside the lures that had less secrets to share.

It’s ‘Baked In’
Another less obvious factor that played into my own plug progression was the connection and stories that are intrinsically baked into hand-built surf plugs. The process itself of crafting effective surf plugs out of blocks of wood brings with it so many connections between the lure builder (and those they learned from), the surfcaster, and the fish that we chase. Wooden plugs are physical manifestations of the builder’s experience, intention and passion. Plugs are sold, auctioned, traded among friends, lost in the surf, and sometimes found by other lucky anglers. Each time a plug changes hands, purposefully or by chance, the recipient cannot help but wonder about its history, where it’s been, what fish it has brought to hand, and what secrets it has yet to reveal.
There is something special that occurs when I catch a fish with a lure that wasn’t simply pulled off a Wal-Mart shelf. All the time and care that the builder put into that lure becomes part of my story. The hours I stood in line at a plug show to get something from a favorite builder are suddenly worth it when I catch a good fish, or better yet, when I gift that plug to someone else. Sometimes it’s months or years later, but I almost always hear feedback about a good session with a plug that I gave to a friend. It’s as if I became written into that plug’s story, for perpetuity, the moment I slid that needle into my friend’s pocket.
Fishing stories and memories seem to run deeper and stick better to custom plugs. When I look at my Franktown Donny, I immediately go back to the night I caught my first 40-pound bass. When I look at my tattered 24/7 needles, I can remember every good fish they brought to hand, where I was, what the conditions were, and who was with me. Not unlike us, wooden plugs also change over time, adding some welcomed nuance. I have a few needles that should be retired, but I keep fishing them because of all the stories they have been a part of. A few barely have any paint or primer left on them. Throughout the tide they take on water and sink at a faster rate than they did a few years ago, but that just adds to the charm and that detail is something that you just don’t get with an SP Minnow.
Tying It Together
These idiosyncrasies demand more input from me as the surfcaster. Where ease of use was coveted in my early days, I am now happy to put as much of myself into these stories as I can. More experienced surfcasters, by nature, want to increase the amount of input that is required from them in the surf, amplifying the satisfaction of catching and solidifying their unique surf convictions. When that waterlogged needle hits the water I crank like hell to get the slack out of my line before it sinks. That detail is unique to that plug and is something only I know (until now). That is part of the magic of surfcasting, the little nuances that are unique to different surfcasters, plugs and approaches to the surf.
If catching fish was the only goal, then I would probably do just fine with my old lineup of store-bought minnow plugs. They worked great then, and they work great now. But their stories began on a shelf, or in a factory. Personally, the plug progression has kept me engaged when the tides are mundane, or the fishing is terrible. The Progression keeps me hungry to unlock new secrets and to share my experiences with others. My plug progression has thrust me into an inescapable web of surfcasting stories, folklore, adventure, and salty friendships that are worth more than any fish I could ever hope to catch.