piemma
11-14-2023, 02:59 PM
Fishing with Legends
This event took place in the mid-90s as the Striper had made a full recovery. By no means am I glorifying the fact that we killed hundreds of very large bass on this one night but the story needs to be told.
As usual, Jerry was all screwed up getting his fishing gear together. On top of him being annoying, he will be asleep five minutes after we picked up RJ. I really like Jerry but he can try my patience.
We’re supposed to meet RJ at midnight at Stop & Shop, a supermarket located in Greenville, RI. It’s half way between my house and his, a convenient place to meet for our trip.
Cape Cod is our destination and, as any die-hard Striper surf fishermen will tell you, it is Mecca, the Holy Grail, the Big Kahuna of the surf-casting striper fisherman. There is no better Striper fishing on the East Coast at this time of year. It’s early July, there’s a new moon and an ebb tide at Provincetown - ideal conditions. But even as we set out this morning, we had no idea that would be an understatement. The trip started out ordinary enough, but we were about to witness a marine phenomenon most fishermen just hear about second or third hand.
As we pull into the Stop & Shop parking lot, Jerry mumbles something about not having slept in 2 days. Yeah, this would be hell on wheels without RJ on board. Thank God, RJ is waiting for us and we are on our way after loading his rods on the roof and gear in back of the Blazer.
We cruise onto the interstate and talk immediately turns to where we will fish. The tip of the Cape has enough places to fish to fill a lifetime and we are sure of only a couple of spots. It will take about 3 hours to get to the Race, our first stop. Oh yeah, as predicted Jerry is out cold in the back seat. He won’t wake until we pull into the air-down lot at Ranger Station.
We got to the air-down lot at 2:45 AM and there’s a cool Northwest wind buffeting our backs. Good wind for the front beach. RJ and I air down the tires to 12 pounds each. We are going to be driving the beaches of the Cape Cod National Seashore which is regulated by the Department of the Interior. The Rangers are great people and will help you in an instant, as long as you play by the rules. Those include getting the required permit and following the recommended air pressure and driving tracks.
I Put the Blazer in 4 wheel Low range, make sure the rods are racked and off we go. As we pull onto the front beach RJ says he thinks we should head up to the "second rip". I agree and, oh my, I think I hear Jerry stirring. The second rip is about 4 miles up the beach toward the Race. As we move toward the spot we want to fish, I see trucks along the perimeter of the plover nests, an endangered shore bird whose nests are fenced off by the Rangers. I pull the Blazer beside a truck owned by Lanny Grazini, a friend of ours and a great striperman.
We unrack the rods and head to the shore. Now it may seem strange that, here we are at 3:00AM, in the middle of a pitch-black beach with just small lights around our neck and we expect to catch fish.
The beach near the Race in P-Town is legendary for the fish you can pull out of it. Fishing is never a sure thing, but with the ebb tide and the new moon, we feel pretty good about our chances.
There are a few ways to fish the front beach but, by far, the best is with live eels. A 10- foot surf rod with a Penn reel spooled with 20-pound test mono is the standard rig, although you still see the old guard using pool cue rods and conventional reels. Whichever you choose, you need an outfit that can stop the fish before they get over the second sand bar. These a moby stripers, 15 pounds and up, so beefy equipment is the order of the day.
By now we can see a few guys fishing but most are drinking coffee, smoking cigarettes and just plain schmoozing. Lanny brags about how they "smoked ‘em last night". He and Stevie (Steven Mills) filled the fish box. Lanny and Stevie are commercial rod and reel fishermen and the law says they can take as many fish as they can catch, so long as they are at least 34 inches. About this time Jerry awakens and begins rigging up. This takes Jerry three times as long as anybody else. The tackle box is a maze he gets lost in.
The chaos begins when somebody yells, "Fish on!." Suddenly, everybody is in overdrive reaching for rods off the front of trucks, grabbing lives eels and hooking them to their rigs. It’s not easy to do it the right way in a hurry: through the lower jaw and out an eye socket. With a little luck the snake-like fish will stay alive for 20 casts or more -long enough to hook up on a good bass.
At the shore, it’s mass pandemonium as one guy after the next hooks up and the sound of " Fish On" and "It a keepa" echoes up and down the beach. I am on and it’s a good fish taking drag. Next to me, Jerry is hooked up and landing a 30 pounder. I land a 35-pounder and throw it in the fish box as Jerry a twin-size fish alongside mine. The beach is covered with 20 to 40 lb fish. All bass and all big. Not a schoolie in the bunch. And I am fishing among legends. George Calzone is on my right, #^&#^&#^&#^& Conoyer is on my left with Lanny next to him and Steve next to him. Tony Chirappo is on the beach 3 down from us. John Haberek was there along with Dave Hammock, at the time owner of the legendary Murat’s Tackle Shop
Oddly, RJ is fishin’ his backside off without even a hit. Except for him, we’re engulfed in fishermen landing big bass: It is absolutely the biggest blitz most of us have seen since the late 1970s’. Finally I grab RJ and ask to see his rod. No wonder he hasn’t has a hit. He’s fishing with a slip sinker and I think the sinker is spooking the fish so I take the sinker off, re-rig his eel and cast it out. I close the bail and tell him to pump it slow, just barely moving the eel. Just then I feel that familiar vibrating, bump, bump, bump. I drop the rod tip and count to 3. BANG !!! I’M ON!!! I hand the rod to RJ and minutes later he beaches a 32 pounder.
This amazing scenario went on till the sun rose. We’ll never forget the date: July 2 1994. It was probably one of the 10 best nights I ever experienced fishing for stripers. I can’t say for sure how many bass we landed that night at the Second Rip - I just know that everyone on the beach caught more 20 to 40 pounders than any of us had ever seen in one place before. The moon and ebb tide had a lot to do with it, no doubt, but who can say for sure what make fish school and become such aggressive feeders. If we knew, they wouldn’t call it fishing, they’d call it catching. Even the legendary George Calzone, who I had the privilege of fishing next to that night, told me that it had been 20 years since he had seen anything like that night.
As we iced our fish down and packed up for the long 3-hour ride back we talked about our unbelievable experience -. 40 guys on a beach, miles from anything except the waves, the wind, the sand and countless striped bass. It was one of those nights we’ll tell our grandchildren about. We weren’t even off the beach and Jerry was fast asleep. Oh well, some people just can’t get excited about anything.
Many of the aforementioned folks have reached the clearing at the end of the path. I had the privilege of fishing next to men who made their livings catching stripers, making plugs and jigs and working the beach. We may never see nights like that again.
Fair winds and following seas to Lanny Grazini, Jerry Place, George Calzone, Dave Hammock and my good friend John Haberek. It was truly a night I fished with the legends of our sport.
This event took place in the mid-90s as the Striper had made a full recovery. By no means am I glorifying the fact that we killed hundreds of very large bass on this one night but the story needs to be told.
As usual, Jerry was all screwed up getting his fishing gear together. On top of him being annoying, he will be asleep five minutes after we picked up RJ. I really like Jerry but he can try my patience.
We’re supposed to meet RJ at midnight at Stop & Shop, a supermarket located in Greenville, RI. It’s half way between my house and his, a convenient place to meet for our trip.
Cape Cod is our destination and, as any die-hard Striper surf fishermen will tell you, it is Mecca, the Holy Grail, the Big Kahuna of the surf-casting striper fisherman. There is no better Striper fishing on the East Coast at this time of year. It’s early July, there’s a new moon and an ebb tide at Provincetown - ideal conditions. But even as we set out this morning, we had no idea that would be an understatement. The trip started out ordinary enough, but we were about to witness a marine phenomenon most fishermen just hear about second or third hand.
As we pull into the Stop & Shop parking lot, Jerry mumbles something about not having slept in 2 days. Yeah, this would be hell on wheels without RJ on board. Thank God, RJ is waiting for us and we are on our way after loading his rods on the roof and gear in back of the Blazer.
We cruise onto the interstate and talk immediately turns to where we will fish. The tip of the Cape has enough places to fish to fill a lifetime and we are sure of only a couple of spots. It will take about 3 hours to get to the Race, our first stop. Oh yeah, as predicted Jerry is out cold in the back seat. He won’t wake until we pull into the air-down lot at Ranger Station.
We got to the air-down lot at 2:45 AM and there’s a cool Northwest wind buffeting our backs. Good wind for the front beach. RJ and I air down the tires to 12 pounds each. We are going to be driving the beaches of the Cape Cod National Seashore which is regulated by the Department of the Interior. The Rangers are great people and will help you in an instant, as long as you play by the rules. Those include getting the required permit and following the recommended air pressure and driving tracks.
I Put the Blazer in 4 wheel Low range, make sure the rods are racked and off we go. As we pull onto the front beach RJ says he thinks we should head up to the "second rip". I agree and, oh my, I think I hear Jerry stirring. The second rip is about 4 miles up the beach toward the Race. As we move toward the spot we want to fish, I see trucks along the perimeter of the plover nests, an endangered shore bird whose nests are fenced off by the Rangers. I pull the Blazer beside a truck owned by Lanny Grazini, a friend of ours and a great striperman.
We unrack the rods and head to the shore. Now it may seem strange that, here we are at 3:00AM, in the middle of a pitch-black beach with just small lights around our neck and we expect to catch fish.
The beach near the Race in P-Town is legendary for the fish you can pull out of it. Fishing is never a sure thing, but with the ebb tide and the new moon, we feel pretty good about our chances.
There are a few ways to fish the front beach but, by far, the best is with live eels. A 10- foot surf rod with a Penn reel spooled with 20-pound test mono is the standard rig, although you still see the old guard using pool cue rods and conventional reels. Whichever you choose, you need an outfit that can stop the fish before they get over the second sand bar. These a moby stripers, 15 pounds and up, so beefy equipment is the order of the day.
By now we can see a few guys fishing but most are drinking coffee, smoking cigarettes and just plain schmoozing. Lanny brags about how they "smoked ‘em last night". He and Stevie (Steven Mills) filled the fish box. Lanny and Stevie are commercial rod and reel fishermen and the law says they can take as many fish as they can catch, so long as they are at least 34 inches. About this time Jerry awakens and begins rigging up. This takes Jerry three times as long as anybody else. The tackle box is a maze he gets lost in.
The chaos begins when somebody yells, "Fish on!." Suddenly, everybody is in overdrive reaching for rods off the front of trucks, grabbing lives eels and hooking them to their rigs. It’s not easy to do it the right way in a hurry: through the lower jaw and out an eye socket. With a little luck the snake-like fish will stay alive for 20 casts or more -long enough to hook up on a good bass.
At the shore, it’s mass pandemonium as one guy after the next hooks up and the sound of " Fish On" and "It a keepa" echoes up and down the beach. I am on and it’s a good fish taking drag. Next to me, Jerry is hooked up and landing a 30 pounder. I land a 35-pounder and throw it in the fish box as Jerry a twin-size fish alongside mine. The beach is covered with 20 to 40 lb fish. All bass and all big. Not a schoolie in the bunch. And I am fishing among legends. George Calzone is on my right, #^&#^&#^&#^& Conoyer is on my left with Lanny next to him and Steve next to him. Tony Chirappo is on the beach 3 down from us. John Haberek was there along with Dave Hammock, at the time owner of the legendary Murat’s Tackle Shop
Oddly, RJ is fishin’ his backside off without even a hit. Except for him, we’re engulfed in fishermen landing big bass: It is absolutely the biggest blitz most of us have seen since the late 1970s’. Finally I grab RJ and ask to see his rod. No wonder he hasn’t has a hit. He’s fishing with a slip sinker and I think the sinker is spooking the fish so I take the sinker off, re-rig his eel and cast it out. I close the bail and tell him to pump it slow, just barely moving the eel. Just then I feel that familiar vibrating, bump, bump, bump. I drop the rod tip and count to 3. BANG !!! I’M ON!!! I hand the rod to RJ and minutes later he beaches a 32 pounder.
This amazing scenario went on till the sun rose. We’ll never forget the date: July 2 1994. It was probably one of the 10 best nights I ever experienced fishing for stripers. I can’t say for sure how many bass we landed that night at the Second Rip - I just know that everyone on the beach caught more 20 to 40 pounders than any of us had ever seen in one place before. The moon and ebb tide had a lot to do with it, no doubt, but who can say for sure what make fish school and become such aggressive feeders. If we knew, they wouldn’t call it fishing, they’d call it catching. Even the legendary George Calzone, who I had the privilege of fishing next to that night, told me that it had been 20 years since he had seen anything like that night.
As we iced our fish down and packed up for the long 3-hour ride back we talked about our unbelievable experience -. 40 guys on a beach, miles from anything except the waves, the wind, the sand and countless striped bass. It was one of those nights we’ll tell our grandchildren about. We weren’t even off the beach and Jerry was fast asleep. Oh well, some people just can’t get excited about anything.
Many of the aforementioned folks have reached the clearing at the end of the path. I had the privilege of fishing next to men who made their livings catching stripers, making plugs and jigs and working the beach. We may never see nights like that again.
Fair winds and following seas to Lanny Grazini, Jerry Place, George Calzone, Dave Hammock and my good friend John Haberek. It was truly a night I fished with the legends of our sport.