12.08.25 Just had to go one last time...

     A year without a Fall Run. Well that's not fair. There was one, you just had to be there when it, or at least a few times, it happened. I had a strange feeling about this year when I heard early on the sand eels were showing, and then the peanut and cupcake bunker. Mixed foods on the menu don't always lead to better fishing. And the fish? They were here, especially the big ones, for the boat guys but it was feast and lot's of famine for the surfcasters, which include us fly guys and gals.

     I figured I better give it one last shot, or at least drive, down to the salt to see if anything was happening. I've heard plenty of old school stories about post-Christmas blitzes when the bass were chewing through the skim ice and slush. C'mon now, I was born at night but not last night, as my brother would say. 

     I took this pic at 508 am just as Route 29 turns into the start of 195. My plan was to go early, and pretty much be done early. I got all my gear and cold weather clothes ready, including my size large StormR jacket which I got about 13 years ago, when I was a tad smaller. Now zipped up it fits me like a sausage skin. My idea was to do Bradley to Bay Head, and that's what I did. 

But before I got to the beach I stopped by the Belmar Marina to see if there was any life there, and nada. Truth be told I'm not even sure if the Belmar boats are striped bass fishing anymore. 

     When I got to Roosevelt Avenue in Avon I just stayed put. I could stay by the warmth of my truck vents and watch as first light arrived. As light came up I could see birds flying around looking, looking over a on-the-incoming relatively calm sea. "Maybe I should just go blind cast"....yeah, no thanks. I just didn't feel it, the same way I felt the few times I've been down this fall.

     I stayed for a bit and decided to head south. Basically is was a Shark River to Manasquan Inlet day. when I got past the SRI I picked up a few birds heading south and road in-step, or in-flight, with them down to dam near Spring Lake. I pulled into Mercer Street and at least got out of my truck.

     Down on the beach there was a few birds standing round and a few something or others swimming in the shallow water. None of it moved me enough to want to put my rod together. I looked over the human created winter dunes to see if there was anything going on north, east, or south....nada.

     Now I know these types of days aren't all out blitz fishing days, they're more the blind casting looking for a bass that is sniffing around or passing by. Even if you told me that your drone was capturing fish swimming around I still wasn't feeling it. So south I went.

     I had my stoma set on a bagel from Beach bagel in Point Pleasant so I stopped there. Thing thing I like about this place is they have white milk in the fridge, my favorite companion to a bagel. So I ordered an everything with cream cheese, scooped and toasted of course. But on 

my first swig I could tell something was off. It was the expiration date, off by five days. Not totally sour, but that I'm kinda gettin' close sour. Yuk anyway. So I traded that in for a coffee. But if there was a dagger on my dagger-full morning that was it. 

     It was off to Bay Head and my only motivation was maybe there was something going on I couldn't see from Spring Lake. Nope, more of the same. No boats. No anglers. A few birds. Shit. So that was it for me. I'm glad I went and I'm more than glad to call it a year. I'll do a recap around the New Year if I make it that long. 

    Before I left I snapped a quick pic just to get you in the holiday spirit. It was about 745 and I was done and started my way back home. But not everybody that was out there went home skunked. I saw the below post on Grumpy's FB page. Kudos to the angler for giving it a go and I 

am glad he was rewarded for his efforts. I don't know why I didn't catch like the guy above...oh yeah, I didn't leave my truck or put my rod together.

12.07.25 Santa comes early...thanks to Facebook Marketplace...

     With a lack of original fishing content as of late maybe I should rename this blog from The Average Angler to The Cheap Curmudgeon. I hate to think I'm cheap, but I'm realizing I might be. By the way I run you would think I'm your old Grandpa who lived through the depression. I hate buying new. I hate paying for food, which we basically rent for about 24 hours, and hate to see things old just tossed away in this new everything's-disposable society. Yeah, I guess that's cheap. 

     So this weekend was a great "Boy I'm cheap" 72 hours. It started with a Facebook Marketplace sale. Nine weeks ago we listed a table we had picked up at a yard sale while down in Cape May. We have a breakfast nook that's sits off the kitchen and dining room. It's a pretty room that I have done some initial work to. Some might say it's another project started and not finished, but there's a method to my old-house madness. Get in there, clean it up, make it livable, and then circle back and complete it during my "restoration". That works for me, but it appears like I'm a 65% job completion rate kind of guy. You see, with that approach, one day, everything will be 100%, well more like 90% done, right before we sell or I croak. 

      Theresa and I are two peas in a pod. She's my best friend. She's like a best friend, like ride or die, who you could kill one day, or kill someone else for on another. We argue, we hold our grounds, but at the end of the day, and month to month, and year to year, we're left standing together. If you saw us in action, like at a yard sale, you'd think we're on the verge of divorce. We have two distinct approaches when we enter someone's yard, garage, or house. Theresa's the talker, and I'm the hunter. I move stealthily through the wares while Theresa formulates relationships with the sellers, which at times leads to post-sale contacts and relationships. It's just the way we roll.

     So we had a table and chairs that we liked in the room. But, we saw the above, and probably spent 2 hours hemming and hawing if this one would fit better. So after we beat the sellers down emotionally, not for the $100 price tag, but with every story we had had about our upbringings, our kids, our house, our careers, and our current table, we loaded it up. Then when we got home; crash, bang, boom. So needless to say we've had the above staged in our living room for the last nine weeks while our original one sits in the breakfast nook.

     "Maybe we should just donate it", she said. "What?", and lose the $100 and the possibility of keeping our strong buy-old and buy-proud yard sale and FBM streak going strong? "Neva!". Well, I'll have to admit navigating around it had become annoying and now with the Christmas tree up it looked like we have a hoarding disorder, which we both do. But then this guy Dominic sent a message the other day, "Is this still available?". Bingo...game, set, match. 

     The only caveat to the get-our-money back sale would be that we would have to deliver it to Bordentown, just a few miles south of Trenton. Not a big deal as we always have a place to go on the weekend like either the Trenton or Columbus Farmer's Market's. I told him we'd deliver it for an extra $20 bucks. So as we were going back and forth and I was trying to determine is this was real, or if the guy was a 35 year-old living in his Mom's basement, or a 70 year old chainsmoker with COPD living in some second floor hovel of an apartment, "new" stuff showed up recently listed on FBM.

     "I have a pair of Thorogood Mac toe boots with steel toes for sale". What? Does FBM read my mind or recent internet searches? Is God or Santa answering my prayers? You see, it's been four months of hemming and hawing about buying new boots. I know, you could care less. But that's taken me from FBM searches, to stops at thrift stores, to "Hey I'm just gonna buy a new pair" mindset. Then I look at the websites and the cost and I'm back to buying used like a guy with a birthdate of 1918.

     So what's the chance? The boots I wanted. The size I needed, and we were headed to the same town for a FBM delivery? The seller said he wore them twice and went with the steel toe but didn't find them as comfortable as he wanted, and didn't need the steel toe. They were sitting on FBM for a week and he dropped the price from an original $150 down to $100, and then for me, $90. Now Theresa likes new, but she has the used and save-a-buck gene in her DNA as well. But she has a line, no to certain things, and never anything that smells, has a chip, or is rusted. Geez, what an amateur. 

     So with $120 in our hands after the table delivery, to a wonderful young couple I might add, we headed down Route 130 to the next apartment complex for round two. As Theresa sat in the car I went in for the could-have-looked-like a drug deal. I sat down in the vestibule and tried them on, and they were lovely. With a new asking price of $259.95, for $169.95 plus tax and shipping less, I had hit the Mother Lode or Santa just came early. 

     Now here's a few things about why I'm cheap on the workbooks. Let's say in the end I went new, so around $275, out the door. They're just going to get dirty, scuffed up, maybe even stained. They won't look like new shortly after I put them on and start my Paul Bunyon or Bob Vila stints around the house. And during that I won't enjoy them, at least for $275. But for $90 bucks I'll enjoy every wear I put into them, even if the previous users scent from his dirty socks still wafts every time I put them on and take them off. I'll wear them proudly knowing I'm cheap.

     And as we were leaving town I caught a sign posted up on a telephone pole, "Estate Sale". Oh Jesus this day is just getting better every minute. But this time of year reading telephone poles can be disappointing. Is it live or is it just an old sign from a sale a few weekends back? Nope this was live action and a guys estate sale heaven. The 85 year-old resident was a tinkerer, a craftsman, a real man, and had rooms and a basement full of just about everything I like, tools, trains, Pyrex, and the big item. That big item kept Theresa and I putting on a display of marital dysfunction, almost to the point of pure hatred for each other. It got so bad the woman helping with the sale said, "I'll just live you two alone". But I'll save that story for another day. But if you think I got excited for the boots, just wait for this. 

As far as fishing, I might give it a go tomorrow for one last time for 2025, we'll see what the day, and Facebook Marketplace brings. 

12.06.25 Ah, Bah-humbug...

      I must either be the Grinch or just becoming an ornery old man. Last week we crossed over the Delaware River to hit the over-priced-but-I-like-it new Wegman's in Yardley, Pa. Not only is it pricey but it also costs us $1.50 to cross into Pennsylvania at the Scudder's Falls Bridge (295). With Christmas coming it's time for Shady Brook Farms to open up their annual Holiday Light Show which draws tens of thousands, some say near 100,000, of people through the drive around light show. It's estimated that there's between 3-4 million lights on display.

     While it's a privately owned business including a farm, nursery, cafe, and general store, it's a place you don't have to go to unless you want to. They can charge whatever they want, and they do. And that's when I get my annual Grinch on. 

     We've done the drive when we first came out to Mercer from Monmouth County eight years ago. It's fun after a bite with the piped in music that you can hear from your cars radio. Depending on the day there's usually pretty long lines especially as the calendar inches closer to Christmas. 

     So now what's my beef? Well, what gets me, as usual, is the cost. Let's say we go light and say 50,000 cars pass through the exhibit. At $50 a carload that's $2,500,000. As you inch closer to the 100,000 mark then you're looking towards $5,000,000. Add on that hot coco and alcohol at the fire pits outside of the store and the revenue increases. But good for them. 

     It's generally $50 a carload but that can go higher if you don't pre-order your tickets online. If you do pre-purchase then you'll be hit with that service fee like we see yearly at The Fly Fishing Show. If you look above you'll see the warning - "Pro Tip - Buy your tickets online for the best price. Admission is $10 more at the gate". I didn't know you had to be a "Pro" when it comes to taking the family to a festive family outing. 

     When we lived in Monmouth County the old Garden state Arts Center in Holmdel, now the PNC Arts Center, held the "Magic of Lights" every Christmas season. This one boasts 1,000,000 lights in various displays along the route. One funny thing, now as a parent or an old foggie, is remembering as you drive around the roads and parking lots is how many tailgates did you get blasted out when you attended concerts there when you were young. 

     This show is owned and operated by Family Entertainment Holdings, LLC. which is part of the larger Family Entertainment Group. They hail from Ohio with another office in Illinois. In addition to the light displays they run they're known for their Monster Truck and Hot Wheels related shows. They're in the business to make magic and memories, and money as well. 

     If you think the "Magic of Lights" is a Jersey thing, think again. FEH runs these things around the country and across our northern border in Canada. One thing is if you think they gouge the 

Jersey folks with the admission price then think again, I checked, they're all pretty much priced the same, although there's different price for different types of venues. 

     There's other Christmas and Holiday light shows out there as well. In East Brunswick there's Winter Wonderlights which boasts a 2 million light drive through display. To hit that one you'll also need to fork over at least a couple of twentys if you want to load up the car and drive through. 

     They claim on their website it's "New Jersey's largest animated light show drive through". But caution, don't be totally fooled by the above pic, those lights in the distance are coming from Route 1. They'll get you for about the same amount as the other light displays, depending on the day or week that you go. 

     If you don't want to get sucked into the quagmire of tourist trap light shows you can save yourself a couple of dollars and do as we did when I was growing up. My Mom would load up my little sister and brother and me and go hunting for Christmas decorations on private homes either around Millstone, where I grew up early, or Red Bank, where I grew up late. That would come after a meal at either Mr, Steak, Ground Round, or Friendly's, which were staples when I was growing up. Remember those "Pay What you Weigh" specials when we were growing up? Forget about those these days. 

     If you live near Pittman, New Jersey, down in Burlington ton County, you can swing by the private home of Michael McCarty and Lyle Williams and check out this years "Frostland Village". They were the winners of the 2024 "The Great Christmas Light Fight" which was run by ABC. 

     There are other light shows and private houses you can visit this season to enlighten your ice cold Grinchy heart. Yes, the kiddies love the lights, but to honest I have more fond memories driving around from town to town singing Christmas carols with my family eating cookies and drinking hot chocolate that came from an old Thermos my Mom brought along. And if you want to try something different, as far as memories are concerned, try doing it on the cheap. No need for Pazzo in Red Bank, or The Avenue in Long Branch, or Erini's in Ewing, or the Logan Inn in New Hope to get you into the spirit. You'll drop $400 there and then another $50 for the drive through lights, plus a stop at the shops. 

     Or you could just load up that old family station wagon and hit your local Denny's or Friendly's for a bite before heading out and searching for your own Christmas fun. If you don't own a Thermos you can make a pit stop at WaWa where you can use your Rewards Card to save a few bucks on coffee or hot chocolate for the gang. For desert grab a bin of cookies from Costco beforehand or splurge for some Flying Saucers from Carvel. Just good old fashion free fun. Good like with that because that plan I'm sure will go over like a fart in church with the wife, or the husband. 

12.04.25 Is this the last shot for 2025? ...

 

     Tonight we'll see our last full moon of 2025. It's the December full moon aka the Cold Moon or Long Night Moon. We all know about full moons and fishing, or at least we think we do. "Never fish on the moon, but before or after". That's what we've heard, but that also goes with catching a blitz or a personal best when the wind is blowing hard south. Shit just happens. 

     I've always said, in my opinion, that each year is different in regards to the spring and fall migrations of the striped bass. That's not a genius statement on my part. But what I have found is that when it comes to baits each year is different, and I think that affects the bass differently year to year. Luckily I have been around some incredible year bites in the last 15 years. The sand eel bite in 2011, the white legger bite in 2012, when we were fishing in shorts in February, and the incredible peanut bunker bite in 2016.

     What I have found is that we either have a solid sand eel or peanut bunker (well cupcakes and adults as well) bite each year. It's one or the other. Sometimes, like this year, it's mixed. We had early sand eels and then lots of bunker off the beaches, except for that intermittent week-long push of peanuts in and around IBSP. The boats saw the better part of the action then those on foot. 

     Here's the skinny for 2025. It's over. It's over for most anglers who have hung up their gear and moved their efforts into other things before Christmas hits just three weeks from today. There's still some die hards fishing and or least watching the reports. The umph of fishing the fall run has dwindled, and the rewards will come to those out there doing it, or the lucky guy or girl who happens to be in it when it goes down, if it does at all.

     So the question is, will this moon be it? Moons bring high highs and low lows when it comes to tides. Bait likes to move on the moons. And we have a rising barometer and winds switching from the south to the west.

     Those are pretty good conditions although we're supposed to get a temp drop and snow on Friday which will affect the anglers more then the fish. But what, if there's any left, will the bait do? Remember, IMHO, you either get sand eels or peanuts, plus some other baits, in alternating years. So will any peanut bunker, or white bait, leave "out back" on this moon. Will the sand eels come in? And then the big question is, "Are there any bass around to intercept them?".

     I will say, outside of the boat reports and some banner days where anglers got into them on the beach, that most are reporting the, "My worst fall ever". And that may be true. I can say for the three times I went down, which is a joke as far as effort is concerned, I was underwhelmed with what I saw as compared to recent falls. It never felt like things were building, or were about to "go off".

     A year with a mixed bait smorgasbord is like looking at a menu at a 24-hour diner. Do I want breakfast for dinner or a grilled cheese and tomato soup? Or maybe a Rueben? Or, "How's the Salisbury steak special?". In the end, many times, you just can't make your mind up and wind up ordering something, but you're disappointed when the server drops it off at your table. 

     Yes striped bass are opportunistic feeders. We all know the spectrum of what they eat especially when one for the table stomach's contents are examined. But I believe, at times, they want what they want when they want it. Like the 30-year son stuck in his Mom's basement, "Ma, I want my Cheerios!". Many times this fall I've seen reports from the boats stating, "We had good marks but they had lockjaw today". And, "We set up for a jig bite (drop and reel) but couldn't get hem to eat". 

    Sometimes they want what they want, like a spoiled kid. They are either on one bait or the other. When you have a so-so year of sand eels, white bait, and bunker, they become picky and don't eat as voraciously as they could. You don't see the pushes, and don't see the blitzes. And when there's too much bait around, even though I've heard all I can about Omega Protein wiping out the bunker, they just meander around the pods and eat what and when they want. 

     The last time I was out in Bradley Beach a young kid came up to me looking to fish. He said he had just flown his drone "right off that jetty" and he showed me the clip. That enticed him to drop what he was doing and head down. Nothing showing on top but tons of striped bass, good ones, patrolling around the bunker slick, not pods, that ran parallel to the beach, but off a ways. If they don't make it nervous and get them onto the beaches then there's really no shot, especially for someone waving a fly rod with 20 foot casts off the rocks or sand. 

     So maybe this year is just that. A year of a stacked menu at the diner with customers, the bass, not knowing what they want to eat. Were there good fish around this fall? Just ask the boat anglers. Did we see the push of schoolie and slot sized bass, not yet, and maybe not at all. That's concerning. Either they are in a bad way numbers wise, or have chosen to ride the winter out holding in rivers and bays until the spring. It might show that what's left of the Chesapeake fish are the SSB, or big breeders. Down there right now they are having a solid fall run, but the smaller fish haven't showed up yet. And the Hudson and Delaware fish, maybe they're just around, and not migrating in beach-hugging numbers like we look forward to each fall. 

     Each year is different. If you put the effort in I hope you were rewarded. If you one and doned it and hit it right, good for you. And if you're out there during or after this moon have a selection of offerings in your plug bag or sling pack. If you think they're on something, because you see bunker flipping, but you're not catching, maybe go big because they're looking for something different. That's how someone catches with a BEAST Fleye or a metal lip when there's lots of tiny baits around with no bites. But, in the end, the bass have to be there, and we all don't have drones to send up to let us know what's swimming out of range. 

12.03.25 Things keeping me from fishin'...

     Nearing the end of the year means a few things. For me it means the end of the semester, the end of warm days and the ability to work outside, at least scrape and paint, and the end of fishing. Yesterday I had a group of seniors for their last day of clinical at Capital Health in Trenton. The next few days I'll be on the psych units and Friday wrapping it up with the freshman at a long term care facility. But it's not over for them, they still have one last hurdle, the final exam. Some are sitting pretty, some are right on the fence, and some need a miracle. 

     On the home front it's been a grind. It's not a honey-do list I'm trying to knock out but really a house restoration. Luckily my Roku set up, since we got rid of cable, shows old episodes

of This Old House Classic so I've been either working on our house or watching Bob Vila and Norm Abram work on someone else's. This house of ours is a bear. Now just over 100 years old it has all the charm you could ask for, but everything needs to be restored or replaced. I've been on a burning lead paint and repainting the house kick for months now and soon the cold weather will put the brakes on that. I've also been redoing the windows, most of which have been glued shut by 

100 years of lead paint, and then painted multiple times over. And then there's old water and termite damage that I caught last week. I knew it was there, and would one day get into it, but I figured this was the season and the year to tackle it. The sill is shot, and it's 16 feet long. 

     Just getting things out can be a daunting task. Below I was able to burn all the paint off from around the window and hinges to be able to open the window. The bottom sash on this one fell 

right off due to the double dowels rotting out on both sides. And saving the double width glass is a priority as a replacement 45 inches high by 24 inches wide pane runs about $40 at Niece Lumber in Lambertville. 

     One thing I can say since I'be been on my The Old House kick is how tight and cheap I've become in my old age. Well, call it thrifty or cheap. And I say this because years ago, remember the early years, when the marriage and kids were young and trips to Home Depot were a testosterone booster? Well it was then I bought the tools I have now, and have limped along for decades. My Ryobi tool set, the first one to come in green, is just about done, either the tools all make noise from the worn out brushes or the batteries don't re-charge. And Ryobi. of course, like Apple, changes the batteries and chargers with each new generation. My Stihl leave blower and chainsaw, both 20 + years old, don't blow, okay I won't go there, and the chainsaw doesn't stay running. And I need to gather wood to feed that new wood burning stove. 

     From time to time I stop in the Tool section at Home Depot and look at how much a new set-up would be. There's Ryobi, which has served me well, then there's Milwaukee, and then Harbor Freight has a line as does WalMart. But I always think of spending that money. I never used to be like that. And, it pisses me off. 

     I recently had a pair of workbooks that I got from a thrift shop. Over time the front sole started to flap. So I went Gorilla tape and solved that problem until the other day when I was coming down the ladder and the rear part of the sole caught the ladder rung almost causing me to die. Well that might be a bit much. 

     So I went online to look and see how much a new pair of workbooks would be. I was going to dive in. I remember it used to be easy, need a pair of boots, head over to Sears for a pair of Die-Hards. Now there's 1,000 companies out there. Most have some kind of American flag attached to their boots or webpages. Made in America (some with international parts) is great, what some say is Assembled in America. But anyway, I liked the way Brute boots looked. I figured I might was well go for the good toe protection since I'm now a professional. $175 for a pair of workbooks? I guess. I guess it'll be "Theresa did you see that black tape", again. 

     Anyway, I guess I'm either broke all the time or inherently cheap, or maybe I'm just not going to fall in line with all the other consumers out there and just pay whatever price because 'Things are just so expensive these days". I hate to say I remember the good old days, but it's true. Things are now built like crap, or are cheaper to dispose of and get a new one then have something repaired. Funny thing is Theresa took our vacuum to a vacuum repair shop last weekend, how does that guy even stay in business these days? Maybe he's running numbers out the back door, but even that business has changed. It's 24/7 betting ads on every sports channel on TV and the radio these days. Oh yes, all having the disclaimer in fine print or very fast words, "Gambling Problem call 1 800 GAMBLER".

     While I know can't go back in time and there's less life to live then I have lived already I'll spent my days working with passed their prime tools and a pair of stinky insulated CROCS that surely don't have any toe protection in them. 

I'll be out for one last hurrah maybe next week, unless it's going to be 60 and I can't burn off a couple more feet of lead paint. 

12.01.25 I almost went, but I didn't...

 

     No work Monday could have meant running down somewhere to find that elusive body of beach hugging bass. Risk vs gain. Return on investment. Hey it's fishing right? Well, with the snow coming tonight I passed, believing time spent working around the house would be better spent, again. 

     Interestingly it appears the all run has been better than in recent years down in the Chesapeake, which is good, hopefully for the spring spawning run which begins in just three months. I see the Eastern Shore Light Tackle Charters post above saying good things. Yes, they're boat fish, kind of like reports we saw from Jersey's floating fish hunters, but maybe this year is just different. Maybe those SSB fish came in big, literally, and early, and made their way to points south and into the CB. But what about all those slot sized schoolie bass. Those are the ones we like to see was they are the future.

     Maybe it will be a late year. After this little blow we have for the next few days things will stay consistent and with the lowering of the ocean temps the bait will continue to move and the "normal" sized fish will show up. There might be one more trip down to the salt. I'm heading to Florida on the 14th for a few days so it might be before or after. Spring can't come soon enough.

11.29.25 What's left of this years fall run?...

     Well if you picked Sea Bright as your location to intercept the migratory striped bass as they push bait onto the beach this morning, well, one, you'd be alone, and two, it's not happening there. Above is a live action view of Sea Bright, and the same could be seen up and down the beaches from Sandy Hook to Seaside. There's some anglers out from beach to beach and groin tip to groin tip, but I'm gonna say it's over. 

     Over?. "Was it over when the German's bombed Pearl Harbor?". (For the young ones that's a line from John Belushi in Animal House). Well, here's why it's over. And I'm going to say over which means let's not include the boat and beach buggy guys. They kind of fish the same way. Drive around until you find fish. Hey, it's not a bad way to fish, but let's eliminate the run and gun and follow the tracks kind of fall pursuit. 

     Bait? "Yes, we have no bananas". (For the young guys that a line the song written by Frank Silver and Irving in the 20's, that's 1920's). Well, there's bunker out there, and some sand eels as well. But the bait isn't migrating, in my opinion, like it used to. This fall we have seen "bait as thick as you could see" along the beach, from time to time, but it's not moving like that. Occasionally, like very, it's being pushed in by bass creating blitz conditions, it has happened, and it will still, but it's over, in your hoping that bait will turn Sandy Hook or one of the inlets and hug the beach heading south. 

     The weather? "Baby, it's cold outside", or at least it's going to be. (Oh, for the young ones that's a line from a song performed by Frank Loser and his wife Lynn Garland in 1949. It's also one that got caught up during the Cancel Culture movement a few years back). But anyway. 

    Current water temps in Belmar are 51 degrees. That's not bad and we usually catch, if our fingers can handle it, down to say 43- 45 degrees. But by then what we are catching are micros. But what's interesting about the weather is the temps are going to drop like a stone, air and ocean, very soon. This week we're going to see our first shot at winter, bringing in the cold. 

     While they're saying "storm" we're talking about the possibility of snow along the mid-Atlantic. An inch, a few inches, or feet- the forecasts are all over the place. But it's going to get cold, quick. 

     "We'll have fishing deep into December". That's a quote I say posted by a head boat Captain on a recent fishing report, again that's from a boaters point of view, and he may be correct, but not for the guys in waders. Soon we'll see lot's of bird action from the gannets, dive bombing on late year bunker or ocean herring that will be off the beaches. It will be normal, for this year's not normal fall run. 

     Above is today's view from the Seaside Park beach cam. Some guys on the sand, some beach buggy's jammed up along IBSP, and a boat hatch just outside the Barnegat Inlet. It's what's left of the Thanksgiving week and weekend anglers trying to get into the action. But soon Monday will come and participation will drop off dramatically, no matter what the local tackle shops post trying to keep the interest, and sales, going on into December. 

     "Does a falling tree make a sound if no one is there to hear it?". Yes, of course it does. And there will be blitzes at some point along the beach, somewhere, there's just might not be anyone there to enjoy it with spinning or fly rod in hand to get into it. I hope for the hard core anglers they get rewarded for putting the time in with layers of clothes and frozen finger tips. 

     Could I be wrong? Of course. "There's a ton of fish still north". We've all heard that. But the striped bass these days do some weird things. They choose to winter over rather then make that migration south, at least until it's time to start thinking of the spring migration to their natal rivers for spawning. Or, they just stay way off the beaches patrolling whatever bait pods are running parallel to the beaches. 

     It's leaf blowing, firewood collecting, and Christmas decoration season, and don't forget those that are cross sportsman, fish when the fish are around or hunt when the hunting season opens. I've heard people say, "It's been a tough fall", or "Worst ever", and that may be true, but things vary from year to year. It's easy to sit here and make predications 50 plus limes away from the saltwater but I think it's over for most guys and girls, and maybe for the bass as well. 

11.27.25 Happy Thanksgiving!....

    

       Thanksgiving, my favorite holiday of the year. It always has been although I have to say Christmas was always special when the kids were young. Doing Chritsmasy type things, decorating the house, hunting for those hard to get presents, of course before the internet and Amazon, going to Christmas Mass, and the joy of coming down on Christmas morning and seeing the kids reactions. 

     That continued through changes in marital status and the blending of families. While it became a little hectic from time to time, it did mean enjoying extended families and extra parties, food, and fun. But through it all I would say Thanksgiving has been my favorite, especially as I get older. As the kids aged electronics, gift cards, and money became what topped Santa's list. The beauty of Thanksgiving is this holiday doesn't require gifts, although these days you'll still drop hundreds even with that free twenty-pounder from Shop-Rite. 

     We should be thankful and grateful each day, and I am, but at times life throws daggers at you which can kill that thankful and grateful buzz. Between getting old, the kids not kids any more, the costs of existence these days staggering, having a day to get however many of the kids and family together is something I look forward to. Blended means to mix, and each holiday it's a mix and match of who's going where and with whom. In the end I just hope my entire fan damily has a nice day. 

     A week or so ago Theresa and I headed down to Rowan University for their annual scholarship dinner. It's an opportunity for the donors and recipients to meet each other as the scholarships are awarded. After Ryan passed in 2017 we decided to start the Ryan Archer Scholarship Fund. 

     So each since 2018 a scholarship is awarded to a student who is majoring in physics. Most are double majoring and or majoring. minoring in Physics and Mathematics, like Ryan was. The way it worked was we could have donations made in his name that would go to a general fund, or if we hit $25,000, it would be in perpetuity, which means forever. With the rallying, and many people who read here, we hit that mark and surpassed it. So each year his scholarship is awarded. 

     This year a fine young man won. When Theresa and I walked into the packed room she looked over and said, "I bet that's him", and it was. Daniel reminded us so much of Ryan. His majors, his dress, the way he talked, and his outlook on life. Like anything else that wears with time, we haven't been attending the dinners. But after this we, or some representation from the family, won't miss another. 

     If you're in the market for making a donation to a good cause, or need a end of the year tax write-off, I give you the link to donate to the Ryan Archer Scholarship Fund, HERE. This post isn't an attempt to try and get you to donate, but more of a reason why I am thankful and grateful this year. Going to the dinner and feeling that Ryan's fund is making a difference did me good. 

     So I hope you have reasons to be thankful and grateful this year. It looks like it's going to be a beautiful day after a night of some nasty weather. Waking this morning I could feel the brisk air, which may get the fishing going. I heard of some good action in northern Ocean County yesterday and I'm sure plenty of anglers are out this morning looking for that Thanksgiving Day Blitz of 2025.

11.25.25 In a word, or two, absolute torture....

  

     This was supposed to be my day, the day. It's Thanksgiving week. The winds swung around from the west. It's the fall run in full effect. Clash, bang boom. I was out the door by 430 am taking the ride to somewhere to no doubt get in on some of the action, somewhere. I'd be doing the day solo but knew the two Leif's would be out sometime in the morning. At least I'd have another set of eyes somewhere in Monmouth County. 

     I beelined it to Long Branch for no other reason then that's where I chose. The day before I filled up the truck with oil, boosted a rear tire's air from 23 to 38 pounds, and topped off the fuel tank. I was ready. My thought was to hit Long Branch, then go north, and then hit points south not knowing where I'd end up. For me it's usually a north or south thing with the Manasquan Inlet kind of the Mason Dixon line. I hate swinging around Wreck Pond to hit Sea Girt and then having to do that big swing down into Point Pleasant. While it's only a few miles mentally it's just a commitment to either continue a torturous day or head into blitzing bass bliss. 

     This past weekend the Atlantic Saltwater Flrodders held their annual Fall Classic. I usually go every year but rolled the dice and held strong to my commitment to get things done around the house. While the venue had changed due to the demolition of the Island Beach Motor Lodge the new location and change in the dates had the boys comfy and on the bass, which is something 

new because in year's past it's been more about the hang then the fishing. Well they did good this year not only getting some fish, but good ones as well. So coming off that news I knew there were fish around, even thought I chose points north to play. 

     Long Branch just before first light was dead so I moved up to Little Monmouth. There were a few guys on the beach and bait in the wash. It was bunker within range and white bait or sand eels in 

the wash. There were dimples and swirls along the scarp and I hoped it was bass but for me it turned out to be nothing but hickory shad. The pod of bunker, or bait, moved quickly down the beach and just before I drug up to head north I saw a familiar face. Andrew Hamilton was off from 

packing up the soon-to-be closed Orvis Princeton store and was looking for his first bass of this fall run. We decided to walk towards the tight bait cloud that seemed to be moving towards the beach. In it we could see good feeds as larger bass were blowing up from time to time. But it became a what-to-do? Continue to walk down to Pier Village or make a hard stop and walk back and play leap frog?

     We made our way back to the viewing stand and met up with Bayshore Flyrodder's John Gillis who had started his morning up in Sandy Hook. He findings really threw a monkey wrench in my plans as he found nothing promising up north. We decided to jump in the trucks and head up to 

the old Coast Guard Station for a look. It was more of the same. A flat ocean with barren beaches and nothing building in the water. So we went south to see if we could cut that pod of bait and bass off down in Long Branch. We wound up getting separated and my old iPhone 5 crapped out so we lost contact. I don't think it mattered because Long Branch looked like the rest of the water we scouted. 

     It was around 9 o'clock and I had already been at it since 530. I was hungry and losing hope so I made a stop at the Bagel Guys Deli in West End for a quick bite. It's a place I was 

familiar with because it was our go-to when I worked in the psych unit at Monmouth Medical about 10 years ago. I ordered an everything bagel, scooped out and toasted, with scallion cream cheese and a large coffee. I was shocked when it came in at just below 11 dollars. 11 dollars? I asked the lady how was it so expensive and the twenty-something girl behind the counter looked at me cross-eyed. Everyone else who ordered just took it on the chin and held their phone up to pay. I was using cold hard cash and thought it was just to much. I knew she was thinking "Old-man where have you been?". The large coffee was $4.50. That's is too much, especially for an average cup of Joe. Although the bagel was spot on. It all just added to the start of a disappointing day.

     I drove south and headed to the start of Deal thinking I'd just find my own fish. Maybe I should fish some structure and might find a cruiser or two sniffing around for some bait in the trough. It was just before the flip from high to outgoing and there was plenty of water from the nicely cut up beaches from the recent storms we had a few weeks back. 

     It took me about twenty minutes to get out on the rocks because memory told me the last time I was here I face planted when my near flush studs took me for a ride off the top of a large flat rock. I found a good perch and fished, well made a 100 casts before landing another hickory shad. That just added to the bad taste from the overpriced breakfast. I was feeling the day was done. 

     I had committed to the day. This was going to be my fishing day. If you live close then these kind of outings are hit and miss and don't mean much in the end . Hit them to not there's always tomorrow. But when you live far away and make plans for "this day" then the hopes are high. I thought about just heading home and catching a 1 o'clock staff meeting, but that wasn't my original plan, and I was sticking to it. But while crossing the Mansaquan Inlet makes me feel like Washington Crossing the Delaware what almost drove me west was the thought of having to sit in all those lights down Main Street in Asbury Park. In the back of my head I was just looking for a reason to bail out. 

     As I made my way around Fletcher Lake I saw a few birds high in the sky so I parked and looked. There was some bird action north into Ocean Grove just on the other side of the off-limits pier. A few guys were fishing off the ends of the short groins heading up towards Asbury Park. Between the piers I could see a head boat approaching, it was Captain Ron's The Fishermen, and I thought, "If he's this south then this day sucks". And it was, and it did. 

     A guy waking past stopped and we talked. He said he had fish the evening before on the lower tide. It seems late afternoons have been the ticket. But it wasn't noon yet and I had no intention of making this a twelve hour day. I was done. 

     I could have made a right before the Shark River Inlet and headed home but I thought at least a drive down into Sea Girt might be worth it. That drive through Belmar gives you a good view of a good portion of those beaches. There were a few boats and a few guys out on the groins. In the 

distance I could see a bunch of boats in tight. I stopped near the old Essex-Sussex House. When I looked over I was at Mercer Street, my new adopted county, and I thought it might be a hidden good luck charm. I brought out my real camera in case there was something happening on the beach. As I stopped at the stairs I met up with Bill Hoblitzell who was just getting out. We talked and he too confirmed that it has been a late afternoon thing with some mid-day action in lower Monmouth to down in Ocean County. He made me feel a tad better when he said this has been a tough fall. 

     We watched as the boats shuffled around each other working the large bunker pod. In was more of a line of bunker extending from Long Branch down to Spring Lake. In all my stops, and watching the boats, I saw more snag and drop fishing then anything else. I didn't see snag, reel in, rehook, and drop, so I guess most are using those "legal" circle hook contraptions I talked about the other day. 

     Now what to do? I missed the opportunity to swipe in at work to put a few dollars in the kitty. I wasn't waiting for the drop later in the day. But I wasn't done. I still had hope. 

     I drove north from Spring Lake into Belmar and over the bridge. I like Bradley so I parked and figured this would be it. In recent years I've been lucky to have made stops around there and have been one of the first ins to a solid blitz. Maybe history would repeat itself. I watched as boats stayed close to the inlet on the dropping tide. Maybe the bait was being flushed out on the drop and bass were patrolling the outgoing water. But the boats were annoying to watch. As soon as the birds would gather up they would motor in, and through. If you look above you can see what I saw, birds just off East End Avenue. 

     I walked up and out nearly doing another Triple Lindy making my way from a deep trough in front of the beach end of the groin and up onto the rocks. I made my way to the tip and of course birds always look closer then they really are. But there was life in the area and for the first time I felt optimistic. I was feeling good until that stupid US Army Corp of Engineers survey boat came and made it rounds up and down both sides of every groin and as tight to the beach as it could. It couldn't have been a good thing churning up every inch of the gin-clear water that may have held fish. 

      After the survey boat moved out the birds started to bunch up again. I was in position and ready. Then here comes the boats. You can see above what I'm talking about. And just like that it fizzled out. The boats motor in and then turn and motor around to the next flock or bunker slick. I stuck around for a bit walking the beach like a loser before calling it quits. 

     Back at the truck I took off all my stuff and broke the rod down and actually put it in the rod tube. Usually it sits in four pieces in the back sliding out from time to time when I open the door in the parking lot of Home Depot. Not only was I done for the day, but might be for the 2025 fall run. 

     But before I drove around the Shark River and to get on 195 I went back into Belmar. There were birds doing what birds do. It would have taken bluefin breaching to get me to get my stuff all together and back on again. And as I watched I could hear the roar of the motors as the boats moved in and sat birds down. 

     And just as I watched the action through the long lens I could hear the sound of another motor entering my ear canal. I looked up and there was that G-dam survey bait running down the beach. 

It was the nail that sealed an already sealed coffin. I thought back to any potential action I might have had on the end of the groin in Avon. I thought of Frank Pallone and another round of beach replenishment. I thought that today sucked. It was torture. If I had a bazooka I would have gave aim, just to make me feel better. 

     When I got home I looked down on the speedometer, 147 miles traveled for todays outing. I don't think I'm doing it again. This is Quit #1. While I may be tempted to venture out in 24 degree morning weather in early December for "An epic sand eel bite" I think I'm done this year.