Striped bass are one of Maine’s best-known saltwater predators, but they are not quite at the top of the food chain. The animals most likely to prey on striped bass are seals, sharks, and occasionally bluefin tuna.

Quite a few of my clients have won our tug-of-war battles with seals trying to steal stripers off our lines using a technique I call the “seal rodeo.” Those who have experienced it see that seals almost never pierce the scales and skin of the bass. The majority of the fish we win back are able to be revived and released, swimming off strong.

Sharks, on the other hand, are currently winning 2–0 against us. Both encounters happened within a week’s time. The first occurred on what was, up to that point, the best day of catching fish over 40 inches we had ever seen. We pulled up to the spot with a tank full of freshly caught live mackerel, and the action started immediately. As soon as the baits hit the water, bass were on in seconds—virtually every cast, all tide long. Every other fish seemed to be 40 inches or larger. In fact, I even got to catch my personal best when my clients let me throw a line in.

About halfway through the outing, one of my clients called for the net as their fish was coming in. As I grabbed the net on the port side, a nearly 40-inch bass came into view—with a 10–11 foot white shark gliding behind it. As my angler got the fish just past midship, the shark calmly opened and closed her mouth. The bass disappeared. The line was cut. A plume of blood exited the shark’s gills as she simply glided away. After a few moments to take in what had just happened, my clients and I got right back to where we left off, landing one large bass after another. We finished with 20 fish over 40 inches and many more in the upper 30-inch range.

A few days later, during another fantastic trip with multiple fish over 40 inches, one of my anglers hooked into a monster bass over a shallow rock shoal. In an attempt to prevent the fish from cutting us off on the structure, I pulled the boat away from it. After settling the boat and realizing we had a special fish on the line, I called another captain nearby to come see what we had. He was about a half mile away with lines in the water.

By the time the other boat arrived, we had just started to gain line after ten minutes of the fish taking drag. I then looked back toward the shoal, now about 75 yards away, and to my dismay saw a dark blue dorsal fin and tail sticking out of the water. The water turned white with thrashing. The rod jerked uncontrollably. The line snapped. What was almost certainly going to be the biggest bass we had ever boated was gone.

We have not yet won a battle with a shark trying to take a striper but don’t think these fish can’t survive on their own. Over the last five years, I have seen an increase in striped bass that have survived encounters with sharks. Here are some pictures of fish that got away to see another day.