Brown Bombers of the Bay: Chasing Cobia in Tampa Bay

By Captain John Blenker, Five O’Clock Charlie Tours

There are fish that nibble.

There are fish that tug polite-like.

And then there’s cobia — the brown, bad-attitude, tackle-testing freight train that swims into Tampa Bay every spring like it owns the bay.

I’ve spent the better part of a decade running charters out here, and I’ll tell you straight — cobia isn’t just caught. They’re hunted. Spotted. Tricked. Wrestled. And occasionally cussed at.

The First Sign of Trouble

Every year when the water starts warming and the bait gets thick around the markers and reefs; you can feel it. The pelicans get twitchy. The rays start cruising. The bay looks like it’s holding a secret.

That’s when the brown bombers slide in.

Cobia don’t swim like most fish. They loaf. They wander. They look like they forgot where they were headed but still intend to break something when they get there. You’ll see one ghosting under a buoy or shadowing a stingray like a remora with ambition. I usually have a chum bag dangling on the back of my boat and all of a sudden, the swim up to the back of the boat to say hello.

And when you spot one from the back of my boat?

That’s when the blood pressure rises.

Sight Fishing: The Captain’s Addiction

There’s nothing in this world — not coffee, not bourbon, not a day off — that hits like spotting a 40-pound cobia cruising just under the surface.

I ease the boat in quiet. Clients get wide-eyed. Someone always whispers like we’re hunting wild hogs instead of fish.

“Right side. Ten o’clock. Don’t miss.”

You pitch the bait — live pinfish, threadfin, maybe a well-placed jig if you’ve got steady hands — and sometimes that cobia just stares at it like you insulted it.

Other times?

He turns sideways.

You see the white flash.

Then chaos. Then it’s on like “Donkey Cong”

The Fight Isn’t Civilized

Cobia fight like they’re late for a bar fight. Long runs. Dirty dives. They’ll wrap a buoy, circle the boat, and make a grown man question his knot-tying ability. On a light rod to land these fish give you bragging rights and a bucket list fish for the wall.

And just when you think you’ve got him whipped, he’ll make one last dive like he remembered an unpaid debt at the bottom.

I’ve seen first-timers hook their first cobia and come unglued — laughing, yelling, arms shaking like they just grabbed a live wire. That’s why I love this fishery. It makes favorite memories loud.

Where We Find ‘Em

We work the channel markers, the range markers, and the nearshore hard bottom and reefs outside the bay when conditions are right. Places where bait stacks up and cobia cruise looking for something careless.

A lot of folks don’t realize how good the cobia bite can be right here inside Tampa Bay. You don’t always have to run miles offshore. Sometimes the magic’s sitting on a crab trap buoy a few minutes from the dock.

But you’ve got to know what you’re looking for.

That comes from time on the water — sunburns, blown forecasts, busted leaders, and a thousand hours of staring into glare. The rest could be that the stars are just aligned right. After all its fishing.

They Taste as Good as They Fight

Now let’s be honest. After all that wrestling, cobia don’t just give you a picture — they give you dinner.

Firm, white meat that grills up beautiful. Blackened slabs on the dock with a cold drink in your hand and a story about the one that almost spooled you? That’s an old Florida experience.

Why I Still Love It

After ten years running Tampa Bay, I still get a little jolt when someone yells, “COBIA!”

It never gets old. Not the hunt. Not the hookset. Not the look on a client’s face when that brown torpedo hits the deck. When that fish hits the deck, they continue their fight and if its under 36” it has to go back unharmed. If it is a legal-size fish it stay on the boat and is an absolutely delicious culinary delight.

Cobia fishing isn’t numbers fishing. It’s opportunity fishing. It’s being ready when the moment slides past the boat at three knots and doesn’t give second chances.

And when it all lines up?

Well… that’s why I run Five O’Clock Charlie Tours.

If you want to chase brown bombers, scan the markers, and see what a real Tampa Bay cobia does to a drag system — you know where to find me.

Tight lines,

Captain John Blenker
Five O’Clock Charlie Tours
Tampa Bay, Florida

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