The Back

[piemma]

Stories from the Back


I left the house at 11:00 PM after about 3 hours of fitful tossing and turning. The wind was humping NW at about 20 to 25 and I knew the fish would be stacked tight on the dropping tide.
We were headed for “The Back” that legendary stretch of beach on Cape Cod that has given up more than its share of trophy Stripers. A gentle rain fell, occasionally swept sideways by the wind. I knew RJ would be on time at the supermarket, where we met, so I hurried my pace as I hated to keep anyone waiting. It promised to be an epic night and that inner sense of excitement started in my gut. Oh man, maybe we get into some real big fish tonight.

As the truck splashed through the parking lot puddles I could see RJ standing at the back of his SUV getting his gear assembled. We exchanged greetings and stowed RJ’s rods on the roof and his gear in the back of the buggy.

So off the two Amigos went. RJ was a good guy. A little self-centered but a good surfisherman and he’d watch your back. We had been in a lot of dicey situations over the last 8 or 9 years and always stuck together.

We made it over the Bourne Bridge and were on the Cape. Its funny how 2 grown men can get excited night after night driving to fish. This was a tough drive and we were doing it twice a weekend for about 6 weeks. 600 miles every weekend by the time Sunday came around.

We had 2 and ½ hours of driving ahead of us and we wanted to be at the Second Rip by 2:00 AM. With a NW wind and a dropping tide that would be pulling west, we knew exactly where the fish would be or so we thought.

I was going to need gas and there were very few stations open at that time of night. Fortunately, there was a station on 6 in Eastham that was open all night and we decided to stop there to get gas. Here’s where the trip would get interesting but more on that later.

The rain had let up a little but the wind was still blowing, maybe even a little harder.

I think there’s a front moving and the fish always feed on a front. Sometimes before. Sometimes after but usually if it’s a big cold front you can bet it will turn on the feeding instinct for the bass.

I pulled into the Mobil station and started to pump gas. RJ ran in to get something to drink as he had forgotten his thermos. So here I am 1:15 AM, pumping gas at a lonely gas station on Cape Cod and a car pulls in on the other side of the pumps. Hmmm, 2 girls.

Now we fished 9 or 10 foot, one piece, custom made by Dave Hammock at Murats which were all on the roof of the truck in rod racks.

Girl: Hi
Me: How ya doin’?
Girl: Good
Girl: Nice rods!!
Me: Thanks
Girl: We’d really like to handle your rods.
Me (to myself): Oh, oh, here we go.

Just then RJ comes back from the convenience store.

Me: Hey RJ, these girls want to handle our rods.
RJ: Hahahahahahahah

Me: Not tonight ladies. We have a date with some big, fat girls that are swimming on The Back as we speak.

Me: See ya.

The 2 girls just stood there with their mouths open as we headed out of the parking lot.

Needless to say we laughed all the way to Provincetown

The rest of the ride was uneventful. We pulled into the air-down lot at Race Point and deflated our tires, racked the rods in the front rod holders and hit the beach.

We headed for Second Rip. The tides’ just starting to pull West and the “ladies” should be lining up if there is any bait.

We headed down the beach through the RV parking area, past the Plover restricted area, made a slight turn staying on the track and got to the place we call the Second Rip. There a small sand bar that juts out for about a 100 yards and then joins another bar further out. After that the bottom drops off into 100+ feet of water. Perfect bass territory. Current, structure, depth and BAIT!!

As we stopped the truck and got out, RJ let out a yell. No one else on the beach and there is a row a foot thick of sand eels that “something” has pushed up on shore.
We grabbed our rods and hooked live eels on as we ran to the shoreline. RJ cast first immediately followed by my snake hitting the water. One turn of the Van Staal and “I’m On!!! My old Lamiglass 10 foot rod is bent almost in a perfect C and the VS 250 is protesting loudly has the bass peels line off. Two more half hearted run and I slid a nice 25lb Striper up on the shore.

Oh crap, here comes another truck. I’m on and I don’t want him to see me.

Drop the tip of the rod. If you loose the fish there’s plenty more out there.

I dragged the still flopping bass up to the truck and threw her in the cooler on the front of the truck. The truck went by and RJ landed his bass. Almost an exact twin to mine. We caught bass for about another hour and then the school moved with the tide.

Where to? They are movin’ West. We need to get to the Back. I think they will setup at the Mission Bell.

So we racked the rods and off we went. Off the Front through the air-down lot and up over the big dune onto the Back. A hard right at the bottom of the dune and onto the track heading West.

The Mission Bell is a legendary spot on the Back. It was a Coast Guard Station many many years ago. The Bell is still there in a structure that stands about 30 feet high. It’s at the top of a sand dune so it is silhouetted against the sky. You can’t miss it. There is usually a sand bar almost in front of the Bell. It changes from year to year but it’s usually within 50 feet either side of the Bell.

No sand eels on the shore. They didn’t move this far down yet.
RJ moans, We are screwed.

Na, they’ll be here. They are moving West with the tide. I’m tellin’ ya. They will be here.

I put on a fresh eel and slowly walked down the shoreline trying to make out any swirls, movement or structure. I couldn’t pick up the bar as there was no moon and the Back can be “dark as a pocket” as there are no ambient light sources.

I made a half dozen casts and worked the eels as slow as possible. Nothing. Nada, Zilch!
RJ had decided to work the other direction toward the way we came down the beach. A couple of buggies went by us and, seeing nothing going on, kept moving toward 2 Tens Hole, Laura’s and Peaked Hill. If they didn’t find fish at Peaked Hill they would be back as this was during the period when the beach was closed from Peaked Hill Bar to High Head.

Wait!! RJ’s neck light just flashed 2 times quick. He’s on! I reeled in and headed toward him. I could just make out his rod bent over. By the time I got there he was in the water grabbing a nice fish by the gill cover.

I yelled over the roar of the surf “how big?”

Over 30. Maybe 35

I started casting and had to calm myself down as I was working the eel too quick.

Paulie, 33 and change on my scale.

Me: Nice fish RJ

Tap, tap, Tap. Yep. Drop the rod, count to 5 and SET!

The first run absolutely astounded me. Biggest fish of the night. Peeled 50 yards of line. Now she was bulldozing against the side of the bar. I turned her head and gained some line. Nope. Still green. Another run but not as long. Back and forth the old girl and I went. Finally she was tired and I knew I had won. Slid her up on the sand and gently unhooked her.

“RJ, bring the scale. I’m gonna let her go.”

The scale pulled down and bounced between 42 and 43 pounds. She was 48”+. I waded in to the lite surf and slowly moved her back and forth. Her gills flared and pulsed as life slowly returned to her body and the lactic acid dissipated from her exhausted muscles.

RJ: Oh crap, no camera.

Come on girl. You can do it.

All at once I felt her pull. A slap of her broom tail and she slowly swam away.

Wow! What a fish!

RJ says: I would have kept her. Not this time. We already have over 100 pounds in the box. Let’s go home. It’s only 3:30 AM! We got another 2 hours till daylight.

RJ, I’m beat. We must have caught 20 fish over 25 pounds. Let’s leave some for tomorrow.

RJ can be a real pain sometimes and even though I have 20 years on him he says: You’re driving. I’m OK with it.

I said NO way! You’re driving. I need an hour sleep. Let’s get off the beach, air-up and you drive until we get to the Bourne Bridge.

We hit the road after air-up and I was asleep before we got to Route 6.
So another epic night on the Back went into the books. There were many nights like that and many night when we never did find the fish. You remember the great night and try to forget the bad ones. More stories from The Back to follow.

[fishgolf]

Epic and awesome. Thanks Piemma.

[piemma]

Originally Posted by fishgolf

Epic and awesome. Thanks Piemma.

Thanks. Those were days that we will never see again but it certainly was a special time.

[afterhours]

Nice read Paulie! Been years since I've been there.

[pbadad]

Great story Paul. Only fishing the back about 5 years, I can only imagine the fish that were there to catch in years past.
Posted from my iPhone/Mobile device

[piemma]

Thank you gentlemen.

[saltfly]

I'll be calling Tony C. in Truro later.He'll want to read this too.

[DZ]

Originally Posted by saltfly

I'll be calling Tony C. in Truro later.He'll want to read this too.

Well written Paul.

Saltfly - please give TC my regards when you speak.

[JohnR]

For want of a time machine

[piemma]

Originally Posted by DZ

Well written Paul.

Saltfly - please give TC my regards when you speak.

When you see TC, mention that Lanny G was my best friend. Tony may remember me as I fished with anny and #^&#^&#^&#^& C a lot.

[saltfly]

Yes Dennis and Paul.On some of "those days[nights]" I was out too when that wind blew this time of year.I stay in the Bird house shack off and on at Peaked Hill.He'll be 87 next month.Now, mostly a memory

[Nebe]

Awesome story Paul!
Posted from my iPhone/Mobile device

[piemma]

Originally Posted by saltfly

Yes Dennis and Paul.On some of "those days[nights]" I was out too when that wind blew this time of year.I stay in the Bird house shack off and on at Peaked Hill.He'll be 87 next month.Now, mostly a memory

The "birdhouses"! Also known as "Lauras". As I recall Lauras was just before Peaked Hill Bar.
Oh I so loved running the beach out there.

[RIROCKHOUND]

Nice piece of fiction Paulie, we know you never caught any fish

[redlite]

Originally Posted by saltfly

I'll be calling Tony C. in Truro later.He'll want to read this too.

Tell him I say hello as well
I have not spoken to him in too many years but he was my mentor and truly was the real deal beast of the beach. He did stuff that people only talk about. I speak of him often and most of what I learned from him I am now passing on to my son
We ran into little Stevie that we called "the professor" back in the day and he was still pounding sand at 3 in the morning and he in his mid 70's. he answered so many questions and brought up to speed on everyone I ran with like Avalon and JB and some of the others. Time has taken its toll on us all.
Their souls were still out there in the dark on the beaches with us this summer. I was constantly looking over my shoulder hopin to see one of them walk up on us
Posted from my iPhone/Mobile device

[piemma]

Originally Posted by redlite

Tell him I say hello as well
I have not spoken to him in too many years but he was my mentor and truly was the real deal beast of the beach. He did stuff that people only talk about. I speak of him often and most of what I learned from him I am now passing on to my son
We ran into little Stevie that we called "the professor" back in the day and he was still pounding sand at 3 in the morning and he in his mid 70's. he answered so many questions and brought up to speed on everyone I ran with like Avalon and JB and some of the others. Time has taken its toll on us all.
Their souls were still out there in the dark on the beaches with us this summer. I was constantly looking over my shoulder hopin to see one of them walk up on us
Posted from my iPhone/Mobile device

Stevie Mills! Another good friend. These guys were all part of the Murat crew.

[piemma]

Originally Posted by RIROCKHOUND

Nice piece of fiction Paulie, we know you never caught any fish

So true Bry!

[saltfly]

Originally Posted by piemma

The "birdhouses"! Also known as "Lauras". As I recall Lauras was just before Peaked Hill Bar.
Oh I so loved running the beach out there.

I belong to the Peaked Hills trust. The Trusts name on the shack is Thalassa from the Greeks.Frenchies is next door which was the big issue this year with Sal DelDeo and the Seashore going give him the boot. Instead, Carlstrom got "reassigned". That happened back in the mid 80s when "Herb Olson.This is my beach!" wouldn't let us use the pole line to go around the birds.He got "reassigned" after the dust settled.

[saltfly]

Originally Posted by redlite

Tell him I say hello as well
I have not spoken to him in too many years but he was my mentor and truly was the real deal beast of the beach. He did stuff that people only talk about. I speak of him often and most of what I learned from him I am now passing on to my son
We ran into little Stevie that we called "the professor" back in the day and he was still pounding sand at 3 in the morning and he in his mid 70's. he answered so many questions and brought up to speed on everyone I ran with like Avalon and JB and some of the others. Time has taken its toll on us all.
Their souls were still out there in the dark on the beaches with us this summer. I was constantly looking over my shoulder hopin to see one of them walk up on us
Posted from my iPhone/Mobile device

I'll do that.I run into Little Stevie trout fishing off and on in the winter on the Cape.Lots of laughs and remember whens.............Gotta keep moving or the grim reaper will git you!

[piemma]

I have a George Calzone story I'll share sometime.

[saltfly]

Tony C. passes on his well wishes to all.He got a big kick out of everything written.Being a humble guy[ha ha].We BS a few times a week and we get to laughing about all the adventures of those days and the people both here and gone.

[piemma]

Originally Posted by saltfly

Tony C. passes on his well wishes to all.He got a big kick out of everything written.Being a humble guy[ha ha].We BS a few times a week and we get to laughing about all the adventures of those days and the people both here and gone.

Tony is a great guy. Loved fishing and talking with him. Warehouse of knowledge.