The National Park Service maintains a boat launch within Delaware Water Gap National Recreation Area called Smithfield Beach. It's about five miles north of Shawnee, Pennsylvania, in the heart of the state's Pocono Mountains.

The macadam ramp at Smithfield is wide enough for two boats to be launched simultaneously and the parking lot comfortably accommodates 150 cars. No other facility on the Delaware River can match Smithfield's size. Yet when American shad are migrating in the spring, Smithfield Beach could be twice as large and still be inadequate. That's how many fishermen use the facility during the height of the run. The same situation exists up river wherever a concrete, macadam or gravel path leads toward river's edge. Shad fishing in the upper Delaware isn't just a local pastime; it's a magnet that draws anglers from many states.

Smithfield Beach is one of 12 public boat launches along the Delaware in Monroe, Pike and Wayne Counties, which form a 120-mile border along the river from Delaware Water Gap up stream beyond the confluence of the East and West branches at Hancock, N.Y. Each of the sites is popular, particularly the five--Smithfield, Bushkill, Eshback, Dingman's Ferry, and Milford--within the 40-mile-long national recreation area. In fact, a survey conducted by the Delaware River Shad Fishermen's Association in 1986 indicated that more boat fishermen--18,089--frequented that segment of the river than any other. And they caught 16,821 shad, also more than anywhere else.

There are a number of reasons why shad fishing is good in the three-county area, but the bottom line is that more shad inhabit this segment of river for a longer period of time. Appreciable numbers of fish begin arriving at Delaware Water Gap by mid-April and spawning fish can be found from the Gap north through mid-June. Indeed, the 114 miles of rapids, riffles and pools from the Gap to Hancock comprise the shad's major--and ancestral--spawning grounds.

Because there are so many shad and because the river is narrower and its channel more defined than in down-stream sections, boat fishermen have a better chance of catching fish. There are some anglers who catch and release as many as 60 shad during a day's outing, but that's the exception rather than the norm. Nonetheless, it points out just how large and concentrated the schools of fish in this area can be.

There are a lot of subtleties involved in shad fishing from a boat, but only one overriding factor for success: positioning. If you aren't in the path of the fish--and they do follow distinct paths, usually the channel or a subchannel--you could be in store for a long, frustrating day.

The best way to exemplify that is to relate a lesson I learned one day from my father. I was fishing by myself and happened to bump into Dad on an upriver pool that he knew quite well. The river at this particular spot bellied out into a deep, calm pool after tumbling through a long, heavy rapids. Because Dad had fished the spot so many times, he was familiar with the course of the channel, which literally hugged the Pennsylvania shoreline.

I'd been fishing several hundred yards down stream and not having much luck, so I decided to change scenery. When I approached my father, he had a rod in each hand, a shad at the end of each line, and a Cheshire cat's grin from ear to ear.

I didn't need an invitation. I anchored 20 yards up stream in a straight line with his boat, hoping the fish would swim right at me. Nothing happened. The only thing I caught was a bird's eye view of Dad hooking fish after fish. It was an incredible show.

Me? Nothing. So, up came my anchor. I manuevered 10 yards to my father's starboard side and dropped the weight again. Still nothing. "Move closer," he urged. Closer? Okay. Now I was five yards away and experiencing the same results. "Get closer," he said.

I wondered if I shouldn't just jump into his boat, but I took his advice and slowly eased myself toward him until our gunnels nearly touched. "Is that close enough?" I wondered aloud. Obviously not. For even though we each had the same shad darts, the same six-pound-test line, and as close to the same spot as possible, I couldn't catch a fish. And there, a handshake away, was my father, catching shad after shad--and fat roes to boot.

Enough was enough. "I'm not going to sit here and watch this anymore," I grumbled, and off I went. Pennsylvania didn't have a six-fish-a-day creel limit back then, and the shad my father chose to hang on his stringer made quite an impressive display.

We've reminisced about that day but have never concluded why I couldn't take a shad when there was obviously a large school within spitting distance. Maybe there was a depression in the river bottom where the shad were holding, and Dad's darts were suspended over it. We're not sure. But since then I've experienced the same type of situation at different locations.

Each of those lessons reinforces the belief that shad follow particular migration routes. They will travel the same path year after year, never changing their course unless forced to do so by adverse river conditions. How do inexperienced boat fishermen find such hotspots? There are three ways: watch other anglers, sneak around with a depth finder until you locate the channel, or learn how to read the river.

I prefer to read the river, imagining the Delaware to be a huge trout stream and applying some of the same fundamentals to locate shad that I would use to find trout. And of all the types of water that are available to fish, I've found the easiest place to find shad is a rapids, or more accurately, eddies on the flanks of rapids.

Imagine you're a seven-pound roe shad, heavily laden with eggs. You've swum the Atlantic Ocean for four years and are now in the final stages of your spawning migration. Delaware Bay is more than 200 miles behind you. You've battled a strong river without consuming any food since you left salt water; your energy dwindles a bit each day.

Hundreds of riffles and rapids are behind you, but ahead lies another. What do you do? Swim up the middle, through the current with the highest velocity? No, you seek an easier route on the edge of the turbulence. The flow still affords direction, but not nearly as much resistance. And it's still deep enough to provide a sense of safety. So upstream you go, following the easiest route.

That may sound a bit fishy, but it's exactly what happens. Find a situation like that--there are scores of them along the Delaware--and you'll catch fish. Align your boat with that narrow, "filmy" slot of water between the fast current and the eddy, and anchor. Don't be intimidated. If there are shad migrating through the area, you'll connect sooner or later.

Here's the rest of the formula, assuming you're fishing while the shad are in their migratory stage. First, use a 12- or 15-pound navy type anchor, the double-claw, swivel-head variety. It will hold bottom better than other anchors in most situations. Anchor so that your boat is not swinging about in the eddy; it should be pointing downstream.

Next, equip your rods--use two so you can experiment--with 6-pound monofilament. Keep your spools full of fresh line, at least 200 yards. Medium-action rods of 6 1/2 or 7 feet in length are best in fast water; they provide good leverage and plenty of backbone. Tie 1/16th- or 1/8th-ounce shad darts directly to your line and vary the color combinations. If the river is low, don't add any splitshot. If the flow is normal, add one small splitshot 2 to 3 feet above your dart and work from there. If you're getting snagged on the bottom, take off the shot. If you're not getting snagged but also not catching fish, add one small shot at a time until you connect.

You can cast into the main current and allow your dart to drift down stream, jigging it along the way. But the simplest and most effective method is to toss your lines about 20 yards down stream and allow the darts to suspend in the current, hopefully a yard or two off the bottom. Imply a jigging action to the dart by jerking the rod every few seconds. If nothing happens after an hour or so, move the boat out slightly (2 or 3 yards) into the current and anchor again, or drift back 20 or 25 yards and anchor. You're bound to find the path.

When you catch fish, note where you're anchored and record your location in a notebook. Look around you. Is there a large rock on the shoreline with which you're aligned? Approximately how many yards are you from the shoreline? Is the river's flow normal, above normal, or below normal? What pound monofilament were you using when you caught the fish, and how many splitshot, if any, were on the line? If you have a thermometer, take a temperature reading; maybe the fish were hitting better at 61 degrees F. than they were at 59 degrees. Such information will be invaluable in future seasons.

The so-called "rapids system" of fishing has enabled hundreds of shad fishermen to catch thousands of shad. But it's not the only way to catch them. Many anglers troll in some of the upper river's broad, deep pools. They'll zig-zag back and forth until they catch a fish, then mentally log the location and make another run, or anchor where they connected and simply cast or work their lines like a fast-water fisherman.

Others will locate boulders in the river and anchor behind or slightly above and off to one side of them, hoping to bump into shad that use the slack water behind the huge rocks as pit stops. A similar strategy is to fish behind an island, anchoring at the point where the split river becomes one again. Often shad will home in on the current that's formed when the split stream meets, following it until they're forced to decide which side of the island they'll ascend.

These are strategies to follow when the fish are migrating. But since Monroe, Pike and Wayne counties harbor spawning shad as well, there are other methods to use when that time arrives, which is usually in mid-May when water temperatures approach 64 degrees F.

The most important aspect of fishing for spawning shad is to correspond your outings with the fish' periods of activity. Spawning shad are inactive during the day. They'll lay in a deep pool and remain there until late afternoon or early evening when the sun begins to set. Then they'll begin entering shallower areas where they'll cruise about until dark, when spawning commences.

One of the best places to find shad late in the day is in a channel or subchannel, in a shallow stretch of water up river from a deep pool. Such places are found visually during the day, by cruising about at a slow speed. Return to the spot in the evening and anchor upstream or right on top of it and toss out a short line, no more than 10 yards. Use a very light shad dart--1/32nd-ounce--or even a bright shad fly weighted with a couple of twists of lead wire. Impart action to your lure to attract the fish, since they often are preoccupied by more urgent matters.

Spawning shad often follow a large circular rotation through a pool or shallows when spawning. Sometimes you'll actually see them heading toward your boat as they swim near the surface with dorsal fins protruding from the water. You may catch one, and then 10 minutes later catch another, and 10 minutes later another, just like clockwork. The tail ends of pools are good places to spot fish, but don't overlook faster water where rapids begin to bottom out; more oxygen is there, and oxygen is essential to shad as water temperatures rise in late May.

Once darkness settles, don't waste your time. The shad will be wildly cavorting in the shallows, but all you'll catch will be the bite of a mosquito. Try fishing in the morning, from dawn until about 8 o'clock. After that, head home until about 5 p.m., when activity starts again.

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