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Great Expectations-It Is Like Riding a Bike
I felt like I'd just been out of "the game" so to speak for a couple years and felt like I was just going through life with the three girly girls under my roof (granted they got me through my ordeal with C) all woe is me and not pursuing the things I enjoyed doing before I got sick. Well the planets aligned and it just worked out I had permission from the bossgirl to take off (in my new truck) for 15 days with two pairs of shorts, 10 T-shirts, six fishing rods, "The Compleat Shell Fisherman" some On The Waters I had been saving and an old metal Coleman filled with Bud, Yuengling, hotdogs, half a dozen hard boiled eggs and various other foodies. Henry David Thoreau had nothing on me except I left the writing tablet at home and my only writing was in the kitchen of the old white house doing the daily crossword puzzle each evening while my vittles cooked outside on a small charcoal grill about the size of a decent sized scup. A splash of V-8 Splash each morning and off to that day's adventure. My doctors had put the fear of god in me about taking it easy and giving the muscles and things in my abdomen plenty of time to heal after the surgeries, so I was quite refreshed to learn I still knew how to cast, and pretty damn far, accurately and pain free, but apparently I had lost the knack of catching (which really didn't bother me in the least). Either my ample stash of home made plugs had a shelf life and were past the expiration date or I had lost whatever mojo I might have previously possessed. Finally it happened. I was on the town dock with some nieces and nephews just after sunrise on the River Bass. I had two lesser sized rods with me, one casting some as yet untested pencils the other a conventional with a small fluke rig tipped with a squid strip, and I caught "large". It was a two man kayak manned by two women (real Jersey Shore big hair Snookie types) who were so oblivious they didn't realize they were not moving because they snagged my line; I'm not sure they knew we were even there, they just kept blab, blab, blabbing. I'll spare the details of making no progress reeling them in and having to finally cut the line letting those mermoids continue on, but game on. I re-rigged and in no time had a massive scup, probably 4 inches long. I made several solo excursions to cast at places that I knew were easier to access on foot as I'm still not that steady on uneven ground even with the funky commando sandals I'd brought. More historical/traditional/off the beaten track, and not being big producers these days (yet knowing some would be upset if I disclosed their actual names) I visited a "Landing" just up the path from the Captain Penniman House (plus a quick stop at Cove Burying Ground to visit my cousins Giles and Constance Hopkins), the nice boardwalk with the greenheads on Chase Garden Creek opposite a bayside beach the Bomba's have been known to frequent via 4X4, a rock structure at the mouth of Bass River, the rocky shore heading out to Jeremy Point was a bit much, but the cooler water there felt great on a humid day (when in Wellfleet check out the historical society building, it's a great short stop for a history lesson). All in all a lot of casts and nothing to show for it except great views and solitude. I even attempted sharking off WD Beach one evening using some whole snappers I caught and froze, with a big hook, big sinker and 80lb test mono leader, but that also proved fruitless and ended up a frustrating, tangled mess. And it was still great.
And then on day ten of the sojourn I got the call, "Jiiiimmmmmmmmmmmm can you come home, the A/C is broken and the light in the laundry room only comes on dim and hums." And so the journey abruptly ended, but not before one last cast that yielded yet another feisty bluefish which I set free and decided it was time to go. The return to humid NJ weather with an electrical problem and no A/C, fans aimed in every direction, forced me to kidnap the wife and head to IBSP where I spent several hours casting plugs and talking with the guys fishing clams before a steady rain began. So ended my fishcation. I got myself fishing (not catching) again and it was still fun and challenging and I guess that's all that matters. Fishing IS just like riding a bike...you never forget.
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