DZ
01-24-2006, 11:20 AM
We meet many people on the beach while casting - many just as crazy as us. Just one of my favorite memories:
Memories of Those You Meet in the Surf
“BA” was one of the most colorful and eccentric surfcasters that prowled our shore. He knew all the locations, every spot and rock, and he fished them at the right times. BA also had some very “unconventional” methods.
I first met BA at the Goat Island Causeway in the mid 1970s when I was but a teenager. It was 3:00AM and I was buck-tailing bass in the shadow lines of the bridge. I already had four bass between 5-6 pounds stacked on the sidewalk next to my bicycle on the bridge deck. My trusty ten-speed bike was my mode of transportation before I got my drivers license. BA drove up to where I was standing next to the second light pole of the bridge. He got out of his car and watched me cast into the line separating shadow from light. The bucktail and pork rind drifted from light toward shadow and disappeared in a swirl within inches of the shadow. I horsed the 5 pound fish onto the deck. “Nice work” said BA. BA was a big man, 6 feet or so, maybe 250, he had a long dark grey beard, reminded me of the band members of the rock group ZZ Top. Kind of a scary looking guy, especially at 3AM. “I know where we can catch a bunch of fish that size. Do you want to take a ride? We can put your bike in my trunk”, he said. At that point my instincts told me not to get into this guys car. I politely declined the invite (although the thought of catching a bunch of bass did sound good, especially since selling the bass I caught was my “summer job.”) BA then left, much to my relief at the time.
I got to know BA well in the years that followed. I began to meet him along the waterfront more and more after I got my drivers license. He and I were “Night Stalkers”, a local name given to those who prowled the Newport surf in the wee hours. There were eight night stalkers working the local shores back then.
Like I said, BA had some very unconventional methods of surf fishing. On one particular night Zeke Silva and I were casting at Brenton Point. BA shows up on the point in full gear but no fishing rod. BA wants to know how we’re doing because he had seen our neck lights shining from Graves Point which is some 200 yards away. I asked BA where his rod was? His reply, “It’s back at Graves." "I have it tied to the rocks with the drag set loose in case a bass takes my bait.” “I have another rod tied down at Black Rock.”
I then asked BA how he would know if a bass took his bait while he was here talking to us. He explained that he rigged a light system on the tip of his rods. When his line tightened from the take of a fish a small pocket flashlight attached to the tip of his rod would light up. He said he tested it and it worked well. I looked at Zeke in disbelief while trying to choke back a chuckle. At this point BA takes off running towards Graves Point yelling, “My light’s on!” Zeke and I were bent over laughing.
Later that morning we ran into BA up in the parking lot. He was dragging a 40 pound bass to his car. “I’m sure glad my light went on, otherwise I would have run out of line. While fighting this fish the light on my other rod came on. When I went to get my other rod at Black Rock it was gone, must have been another good fish. I guess I didn’t tie it down good enough.”
That is my favorite BA memory. He’s been gone for some time now but the memories of him along our shoreline are just as colorful in my mind as they were in real time.
Cherish your memories.
DZ
Memories of Those You Meet in the Surf
“BA” was one of the most colorful and eccentric surfcasters that prowled our shore. He knew all the locations, every spot and rock, and he fished them at the right times. BA also had some very “unconventional” methods.
I first met BA at the Goat Island Causeway in the mid 1970s when I was but a teenager. It was 3:00AM and I was buck-tailing bass in the shadow lines of the bridge. I already had four bass between 5-6 pounds stacked on the sidewalk next to my bicycle on the bridge deck. My trusty ten-speed bike was my mode of transportation before I got my drivers license. BA drove up to where I was standing next to the second light pole of the bridge. He got out of his car and watched me cast into the line separating shadow from light. The bucktail and pork rind drifted from light toward shadow and disappeared in a swirl within inches of the shadow. I horsed the 5 pound fish onto the deck. “Nice work” said BA. BA was a big man, 6 feet or so, maybe 250, he had a long dark grey beard, reminded me of the band members of the rock group ZZ Top. Kind of a scary looking guy, especially at 3AM. “I know where we can catch a bunch of fish that size. Do you want to take a ride? We can put your bike in my trunk”, he said. At that point my instincts told me not to get into this guys car. I politely declined the invite (although the thought of catching a bunch of bass did sound good, especially since selling the bass I caught was my “summer job.”) BA then left, much to my relief at the time.
I got to know BA well in the years that followed. I began to meet him along the waterfront more and more after I got my drivers license. He and I were “Night Stalkers”, a local name given to those who prowled the Newport surf in the wee hours. There were eight night stalkers working the local shores back then.
Like I said, BA had some very unconventional methods of surf fishing. On one particular night Zeke Silva and I were casting at Brenton Point. BA shows up on the point in full gear but no fishing rod. BA wants to know how we’re doing because he had seen our neck lights shining from Graves Point which is some 200 yards away. I asked BA where his rod was? His reply, “It’s back at Graves." "I have it tied to the rocks with the drag set loose in case a bass takes my bait.” “I have another rod tied down at Black Rock.”
I then asked BA how he would know if a bass took his bait while he was here talking to us. He explained that he rigged a light system on the tip of his rods. When his line tightened from the take of a fish a small pocket flashlight attached to the tip of his rod would light up. He said he tested it and it worked well. I looked at Zeke in disbelief while trying to choke back a chuckle. At this point BA takes off running towards Graves Point yelling, “My light’s on!” Zeke and I were bent over laughing.
Later that morning we ran into BA up in the parking lot. He was dragging a 40 pound bass to his car. “I’m sure glad my light went on, otherwise I would have run out of line. While fighting this fish the light on my other rod came on. When I went to get my other rod at Black Rock it was gone, must have been another good fish. I guess I didn’t tie it down good enough.”
That is my favorite BA memory. He’s been gone for some time now but the memories of him along our shoreline are just as colorful in my mind as they were in real time.
Cherish your memories.
DZ