After years of fishing blues off the mid-Atlantic, I moved to Boston. It's a short distance up the coast, but there is an ocean of difference in what puts a glow in the eye of the hungriest angler.

"Down south" you can't beat the blues and stripers for sport and the flounder/fluke for table-fare. Up north the same blues and bass keep the fun alive, but haddock and cod replace the doormats as the local epicurean delight.

We left Humarock beach in Scituate, Massachusetts on a warm, calm late-summer morning. We cruised out more than 28 miles to the northeast corner of Stellwagen Bank. We hoped to score enough filets to rationalize the cost, but let's be honest; there is no economic reason with fishing. When you're burning gas that costs $2.70 a gallon at a rate of two nautical miles per gallon, it takes a great day to break even.

We finally stopped and dropped our lines; two rods with double hooks and clams, one rod with a jig/attractor combo. I immediately got a hit. Around that time we spotted a huge Coast Guard cutter, which let down a Zodiac overflowing with bored sailors. After an hour of showing registration, PFDs and fire extinguishers, the coast of Massachusetts was again declared "safe". We finally got back to fishing.

Two hundred feet doesn't seem like a long way until you're reeling up a haddock with a clunky baitcaster. After my third fish, I was ready to invest in a Penn Torque (or one of the fine tackle selections available at anglerlive.com). Once we hit into the dogfish, we had to move exclusively to jigs.

When you fish up here there are some numbers to remember: 19 and 24 inches. Haddock smaller than 19" and cod smaller than 24" have to go back in the drink (it's a real shame when you see their swim bladders sticking out of their mouths). We turned back several really nice fish that no doubt died.

When all the bites died down, we went back to the double-hooks baited with clams and drowned with 10-12oz weights. I was promptly rewarded with one of the ugliest fish you want to see; the cusk, which is an eel-like member of the cod family. My fishing partner looked hungrily at it. "They-ah wicked-good for CHOW-DAH!"

Early afternoon the wind picked up and ocean began to cap. We had a long ride back, with too much rock and roll to clean our catch. We finished up with about 12 pounds of filets.

A good, firm haddock, cod or cusk does well in an egg-wash and bread crumb coat. Then they took their last short swim in some crackling extra-virgin olive oil. Great eating. I can see why the waters off Cape Cod draw such a crowd. Just don't expect me to root for the SAWKS!