piemma
03-14-2023, 03:11 PM
A Twinkle at the End
The end of the Striper season in New England. It can happen anytime from the 2nd week in November to the day before Christmas. If there is a series of big Nor’Easters then it will be over in a flash as “the big girls” start to hustle their way South. The water is getting cold and the bait is leaving faster than a flock of geese looking for a corn field.
Willy called and said he was going to show me where the last of the “large ladies” hide out. I was intrigued. After 40+ years in the surf I thought I knew it all. Now at the risk of “spot burning” I will be purposely vague in my descriptions of the location from here on.
Will said “Meet me in the parking lot at the club at 7:00 PM.” This was the first weird thing. We never fished that early and I said so. We were vampires and never saw the light of day. It would still be light at 7:00 PM even though it was mid-November.
Then he gave up the keys to the kingdom. Northwest wind and a tide that starts to drop after 6. This spot will have “large” around ˝ tide. We will be able to get out on some rocks that will put us right in the “kill zone” for the move.
So I readied my gear. Nothing fancy. No plugs or jigs. This was the end of the season and there was no time for fooling around. It would be live eels or riggies and that’s it. We never fished any weight either. You cast and work and eel the same way you work a plug, except 10 times slower. It is said that “If you are reeling as slow as you can, slow it down by a factor of 10 and that’s about the right speed.
We met in the lot, dressed in waders and dry tops, belted off and started our walk. Crystal clear with the last vestiges of sunset in the west. In November, once the sun sets and with a northwest wind, the temperature drops rapidly. It would be cold by the time we were done. We were on a new moon so there was no moon light but the stars were starting to show and what light there was from them made the beach sand look like someone had scattered a million diamonds. It’s one of the wonders of fishing the edge. The little nuances of the beach that most people never see, or at least don’t notice. In the distance Block Island started to light up. 12 miles away but shining like a beacon at sea We talked about one last trip to The Block but it was getting late in the year and we were both tired. We had fished 100, maybe a 110 nights this past season and were worn out from the constant running and casting and figuring. Fishing for Stripers in the surf is as much mental as it is physical. What to use, which way is the tide running, the wind blowing, the bait moving? After 100 nights we both were looking forward to lying on the couch and dozing off during a Pats game.
After a ˝ hour walk we got to the rocks we wanted to fish. The tide wasn’t down quite enough yet so we sat on some washed up timbers and talked about the past season.
It had been a great year in the surf. Neither one of us had boats so all our fishing was confined to fishing the rim. We both had several 40 pound fish and many, many 30s between the 2 of us. The trips to Cuttyhunk and Block Island were memories now and this would probably be one of the last trips.
The tide was dropping fast and it was dark now. A real chill settled over us as the light from Montauk flashed every minute or so. Time to get in the water and see if Will was right.
We picked our way out through the rock rubble shallows and finally got to the rocks Will wanted. A quick boost up and the Korkers struck home through the bubble weed.
Will was on with a fish about 22 pounds on his first cast. I followed before he even landed his fish and had a bit of a tussle with this fish as she kept diving for the boulders in front and trying to scrap the eel off. I finally landed her and she was close to 30 pounds. We had an unwritten rule that we didn’t kill anything after October. If they can last through the full season, they more than deserve to breed again so back she went with a bit of resuscitation.
Now Willy was one of the best, if not the best striper fisherman I had ever met. Saying that is not an understatement as I fished at one time or another with all the great one Charlie Murat, Dave Hammock, Gil Guilletone, Lanny Grazini, George Calzone and the list goes on. He had the ability to get into a zone and block out everything else.
We had a slow pick of teen size fish for the next hour and the tide was really going away so we both looked at each other and said those immortal words: “One more cast”.
Yup, you guess it. Willy was on and this fish was just swimming away. Will fished a 9 foot Fisher conventional with an Abu 7000 Big Game reel. It was spooled with 50 pound Spectron braid. He finally stopped the big girl with maybe 30 yards of braid left until the mono backing. He’d gain some line. She’d take some and so it went for a good 5 or 6 minutes. I had climbed down off my rock and was in the suds next to Willy waiting for the fish to get close enough to grab. Finally, I saw the dorsal fin and her tail and my heart skipped a beat. She had to go better than 50, way more. Willy eased her to me and I reached to grab her by the lower lip. God, this fish was huge. Suddenly she looked at me with this eye that was as big as a half dollar and just turned her head. The hook popped, her broom size tail slapped the water in front of me and off she went.
I didn’t want to look up at Willy. I felt like I had cost him the fish of a lifetime. He’s standing on the rock laughing his backside off and I am now convinced he lost his mind over me loosing the fish for him. Not a word, just laughter. We got out of the water and started the long walk back. It was cold, the surf had died and the stars were like little beacons in the sky. Finally after about 15 minutes Willy stops and says: “Did you see it?
Of course I saw it. She was huge, maybe 60. No, I mean DID YOU SEE IT!! What???”
Will looks at me with a big smile and says “The twinkle in her eye. She looked up at you and me and said not tonight gentlemen” What a way to end the season. With a twinkle at the end.
The end of the Striper season in New England. It can happen anytime from the 2nd week in November to the day before Christmas. If there is a series of big Nor’Easters then it will be over in a flash as “the big girls” start to hustle their way South. The water is getting cold and the bait is leaving faster than a flock of geese looking for a corn field.
Willy called and said he was going to show me where the last of the “large ladies” hide out. I was intrigued. After 40+ years in the surf I thought I knew it all. Now at the risk of “spot burning” I will be purposely vague in my descriptions of the location from here on.
Will said “Meet me in the parking lot at the club at 7:00 PM.” This was the first weird thing. We never fished that early and I said so. We were vampires and never saw the light of day. It would still be light at 7:00 PM even though it was mid-November.
Then he gave up the keys to the kingdom. Northwest wind and a tide that starts to drop after 6. This spot will have “large” around ˝ tide. We will be able to get out on some rocks that will put us right in the “kill zone” for the move.
So I readied my gear. Nothing fancy. No plugs or jigs. This was the end of the season and there was no time for fooling around. It would be live eels or riggies and that’s it. We never fished any weight either. You cast and work and eel the same way you work a plug, except 10 times slower. It is said that “If you are reeling as slow as you can, slow it down by a factor of 10 and that’s about the right speed.
We met in the lot, dressed in waders and dry tops, belted off and started our walk. Crystal clear with the last vestiges of sunset in the west. In November, once the sun sets and with a northwest wind, the temperature drops rapidly. It would be cold by the time we were done. We were on a new moon so there was no moon light but the stars were starting to show and what light there was from them made the beach sand look like someone had scattered a million diamonds. It’s one of the wonders of fishing the edge. The little nuances of the beach that most people never see, or at least don’t notice. In the distance Block Island started to light up. 12 miles away but shining like a beacon at sea We talked about one last trip to The Block but it was getting late in the year and we were both tired. We had fished 100, maybe a 110 nights this past season and were worn out from the constant running and casting and figuring. Fishing for Stripers in the surf is as much mental as it is physical. What to use, which way is the tide running, the wind blowing, the bait moving? After 100 nights we both were looking forward to lying on the couch and dozing off during a Pats game.
After a ˝ hour walk we got to the rocks we wanted to fish. The tide wasn’t down quite enough yet so we sat on some washed up timbers and talked about the past season.
It had been a great year in the surf. Neither one of us had boats so all our fishing was confined to fishing the rim. We both had several 40 pound fish and many, many 30s between the 2 of us. The trips to Cuttyhunk and Block Island were memories now and this would probably be one of the last trips.
The tide was dropping fast and it was dark now. A real chill settled over us as the light from Montauk flashed every minute or so. Time to get in the water and see if Will was right.
We picked our way out through the rock rubble shallows and finally got to the rocks Will wanted. A quick boost up and the Korkers struck home through the bubble weed.
Will was on with a fish about 22 pounds on his first cast. I followed before he even landed his fish and had a bit of a tussle with this fish as she kept diving for the boulders in front and trying to scrap the eel off. I finally landed her and she was close to 30 pounds. We had an unwritten rule that we didn’t kill anything after October. If they can last through the full season, they more than deserve to breed again so back she went with a bit of resuscitation.
Now Willy was one of the best, if not the best striper fisherman I had ever met. Saying that is not an understatement as I fished at one time or another with all the great one Charlie Murat, Dave Hammock, Gil Guilletone, Lanny Grazini, George Calzone and the list goes on. He had the ability to get into a zone and block out everything else.
We had a slow pick of teen size fish for the next hour and the tide was really going away so we both looked at each other and said those immortal words: “One more cast”.
Yup, you guess it. Willy was on and this fish was just swimming away. Will fished a 9 foot Fisher conventional with an Abu 7000 Big Game reel. It was spooled with 50 pound Spectron braid. He finally stopped the big girl with maybe 30 yards of braid left until the mono backing. He’d gain some line. She’d take some and so it went for a good 5 or 6 minutes. I had climbed down off my rock and was in the suds next to Willy waiting for the fish to get close enough to grab. Finally, I saw the dorsal fin and her tail and my heart skipped a beat. She had to go better than 50, way more. Willy eased her to me and I reached to grab her by the lower lip. God, this fish was huge. Suddenly she looked at me with this eye that was as big as a half dollar and just turned her head. The hook popped, her broom size tail slapped the water in front of me and off she went.
I didn’t want to look up at Willy. I felt like I had cost him the fish of a lifetime. He’s standing on the rock laughing his backside off and I am now convinced he lost his mind over me loosing the fish for him. Not a word, just laughter. We got out of the water and started the long walk back. It was cold, the surf had died and the stars were like little beacons in the sky. Finally after about 15 minutes Willy stops and says: “Did you see it?
Of course I saw it. She was huge, maybe 60. No, I mean DID YOU SEE IT!! What???”
Will looks at me with a big smile and says “The twinkle in her eye. She looked up at you and me and said not tonight gentlemen” What a way to end the season. With a twinkle at the end.