Jensen Causeway: Monday Fishing Report

November 9, 2026 | Jensen Beach, Florida

Four and a half hours at Jensen Causeway, fishing exclusively with Hobsons and live shrimp. An outgoing tide, about a dozen anglers coming and going, and enough action to keep things interesting.

For me, at least. I’m easily amused, though…

Hobson’s Choice

I’ve designed my own jig for fishing in saltwater. I call it the Hobson.

But the color came before the name.

Years ago, the Snook Nook folks had a Saturday morning fishing show on local television. They also had a radio show that ran considerably longer.

One morning, I watched a local captain named Squeaky Kelly talking about jig colors.

His advice?

“It don’t matter what color it is, as long as it’s chartreuse.”

That stuck with me. Chartreuse was the first color I tried. It worked, so I never changed.

Later, driving through Alaska, I passed a street named Hobson’s Choice. The name sounded familiar, so I looked it up.

Turns out, a Hobson’s choice is when you’re offered a choice, but there’s really only one option. Take it or leave it.

I knew immediately what I had to name my jig. Hobson beats the hell outta “The Darrell Jig.”

You can have any combination you want, as long as it’s a quarter-ounce, chartreuse, and on a 2/0 hook.

That’s all I make. That’s all I throw. That’s all I use.

Hence, the Hobson.

It’s not one-size-fits-all, but it’s damned close.

The Catch

My catches, in order:

Puppy black drum
Short mangrove snapper
An 8-foot cast net (!)
Short snook
17-inch gag grouper
Another mangrove snapper, this one just over 11 inches and legal, but lucky—he was free to go, not even a mugshot.

Five fish, four species, and yes, one cast net. All the fish went back, a couple after posing for pictures.

The cast net was a damned fine one, too. Someone shed tears over that, likely a couple hundred of them.

A Keeper! The only keeper of the day wasn’t alive. An 8-foot cast net, caught on a Hobson. Unless this story goes viral, it was the most valuable catch of the day.

Fishing the Tide

An old-timer once told me, “For fishing with live bait, use shelled bait on the outgoing tide, and finned bait on the incoming.”

And while he probably wasn’t talking about catching cast nets, his reasoning was simple: shrimp and crabs move toward the ocean on the outgoing tide, while incoming water carries baitfish in from offshore.

(I’m still confused about how all those crabs get uptide in the first place. I NEVER see nearly as many coming in as I see going out. I’m open to a plausible explanation in the comments below.)

Not gospel, but it’s a pattern I’ve seen enough times to pay attention to, particularly when I can get it to produce consistently.

My favorite snook combination is a Hobson tipped with live shrimp, an outgoing tide, and some channel edges or structure. The only thing that makes it better is doing it after dark.

I hook the shrimp through the chin, just ahead of the black spot, bringing the hook out through the center of the horn. Done right, the tip of the horn usually breaks off.

Today I was casting north, uptide, and retrieving with the current, just fast enough to keep the slack out.

The jig drags the shrimp along the bottom, following the natural movement of the tide. No fancy jigging. No aggressive retrieve.

The jig’s claim to fame is its flutter action, but more importantly, its ability to keep a shrimp sitting upright while at rest—a far more natural presentation than you get with a ball-head jig.

In theory.

Presented this way, with the snook typically facing into the current, noses pointed away from me and waiting for something edible to drift past, I’m literally dragging their expected dinner right into their faces.

Working the Pilings

When the snook weren’t cooperating (okay, I was tired of casting!), I worked the bridge pilings for snapper.

Same Hobson, same shrimp, different presentation.

I start with a whole shrimp, again hooked through the chin. But as I work my way through a bucket of shrimp, frugality takes over. For vertical fishing, I’ll often tip the jig with half a shrimp instead.

In my experience, a shrimp-tipped jig doesn’t draw snook nearly as well as a whole shrimp does.

But snook can be picky, picky, picky.

Then again, I’ve caught a slot snook in the surf on a Hobson tipped with nothing but a piece of Fishbites.

Sometimes snook are just lost. And dumb, apparently.

I dunno.

Probably why they’re so maddeningly addictive.

Back at the pilings, I slowly lowered the jig down the lee side, keeping it tight to the structure. The pilings break the current, giving fish a place to hold while dinner comes drifting by.

The flutter action seems to work.

Sometimes changing tactics doesn’t require changing tackle. Just where you put it and how you move it.

A Welcome Sight

It was nice to see some grouper action other than the Goliaths I usually see targeted there.

Besides my 17-inch gag, I saw three others come over the rail—what appeared to be two more gags and a black grouper. All were short (under the legal minimum size) and went back, but they were a welcome sight nonetheless.

Beyond those, I didn’t see another fish clear the rail among the other anglers.

The Bottom Line

Four-plus hours. Five fish. Four species. One cast net. Everything released except the net.

Not a bad morning at Jensen Causeway.

And another reminder that sometimes the best thing you can do with a Hobson is almost nothing at all. Let the tide do the work.

Coming Clean

I want to close with a simple truth—the Hobson works for me. I catch 99% of my fish on a 1/4-ounce chartreuse jig of my own design. I even sold a few.

I’ve tried other jigs. Lots of them. Far too many of them.

I’ve settled on this.

The Hobson. You just gotta believe!

Peace, db

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