|
If you want to read about a blitz with 30, 40 and 50 lb cows slamming everything thrown at them then this isn’t the post for you. I’ve never experienced anything close. In fact, I’ve never experienced a true striper blitz from the shore. However, this blitz, a bluefish blitz, and a special experience for me, is what hooked me to fishing the Vineyard and eventually to buying a boat and fishing 5 or so years of the best salt water fishing of my life (and many other bests) and making dreams come true.
It was my second or third trip to MV in late summer, early fall in the mid 90’s with a girl I had met in 94 at the finish line of the Boston Marathon. She loved the islands, and soon thereafter, so did I. We did a few weekends on MV and the Block when finally one year we ended up on MV when this fishing derby had started. Fishing was always in the back of my mind from the early days of pond fishing but when I heard about MV fishing and this event I couldn’t help but participate. I “rented” a rod believe it or not, from a shop in Vineyard Haven and bought a handful of plugs and tins at Sharky’ on oak bluffs harbor. I had never even heard of Larry’s, #^&#^&#^&#^&’s or Coop’s and was more concerned about which bottle of wine was best and what snack went with it than as I was about line, bait and location. “Wasque Point!”, they said, was the place to fish and off we went, cooler in tow, both of us thinking about a romantic afternoon and a sunset, but one of us thinking in the back of his mind about catching a lunker.
We parked up top and made the walk down to the beach hauling the lot. After the formalities of setting up shop and popping a cork I couldn’t wait to hurl something south. A Hopkins (so I now know what it was) was the heaviest, heartiest lure in the bag that I could get beyond the waves and I began to figure out how to surf cast in rolled up jeans and bare feet hurling it over my shoulder. As far as we could see left and north up east beach and right and west down south beach there was maybe 1 or 2 people fishing. I would cast 5 or 6 times and then take a break and come up for a cracker, some cheese and a sip of wine and, not to her dismay or disappointment but in fact her encouragement and joy in seeing the fun and excitement in my eyes, head back down for a few more casts. Please understand that I am now very happily married with two beautiful children, but if I didn’t stop to mention what an incredible woman she was I would not be doing her or the memory justice. I would not know MV if it was not for her and whoever she is with today is a VERY lucky man. Cast after cast I worked to perfect my technique and extend my distance when suddenly it all changed. I was no longer reeling a lure through open water but fighting a fish!
The blues had come in suddenly and yet unnoticed to me except for the one on my line. I fought the fish to the surf and hauled it up onto the beach. Inadequately prepared without pliers or gloves I fumbled to free the fish and held it up like a big game hunter that had captured his first lion. We both admired the fish for a moment and I then threw it back into the surf and readied myself for another cast. Boom! On again! As I landed this next fish I paused to look up and all I could see was bent rods left and right. It was like people were waiting in the weeds, rods ready, waiting for the blues to roll in to step up and cast. There must have been 20 or 30 on each side of me. Maybe there was more going on than I noticed but all seemed to change in the blink of an eye. I unhooked the fish and went to release it when a woman came up from behind me and took it from my hands. I let her have it, not being able to wait to make my next cast. This went on for the better part of an hour. If the cast was far enough, it brought in a chopper in the 10 to 14 lb range I would say.
All at once it ended. The fish were gone and so were the people fishing for them except for the stragglers, packing their gear and final catch. However, a permanent, indelible impression had been made that lasts to this day and grows stronger each year as I read the stories of others through striped-bass.com (not a facebook guy). We made it back long before the last ferry off Chappy that night and enjoyed the rest of our weekend. We played a round at Farm Neck and another at Mink Meadows and had a dinner at Jimmy Seas and another at Seasons. I returned my rental rod and we checked out of our room and boarded the ferry for Woods Hole. But the next year I was back. And again the next, renting a boat from Island Water Sports for a few days each (now a week long vaca) visit. Until finally I bought a boat in 2002 and jumped in with both feet, meeting incredible people and making amazing memories.
It’s amazing what a blitz can do. An afternoon of luck and good timing redirected a decade of my life that I will never, ever regret and cherish until the day I die. My only wish is have the chance to share that experience with my son and daughter when they are old enough with my wife by my side and run into to a few familiar faces from those days at the same time. Thanks for a great thread!
|