06.14.26 Day 2 - Tough, but fish came to hand...

     My plan is alway to be the first one on the water. That's in waters that are salt or fresh. On the Upper Delaware I always wanted to put in earlier than the other guides, not that it got me any better action in the end. My thinking is always I don't want sloppy seconds, and don't want to try and catch fish that the previous anglers spooked, pricked, hooked, and or landed. 

     Now getting to Red Beach at the top of the tide, like for sight fishing, is, well a waste of time, but I do it anyway. My thinking is that maybe I'll see some fish in the shallows of a flat or sneaking along the bank. Or maybe I'd find some fish that are working under the terns. But most if the time I'm just walking back and forth or standing on the ladder until the blood pools in my feet. 

     But before I go further let me get to the handles of my roommates-for-the-week squared away. First there's Joe Calcevechia, above right, of Saltwater Custom Flies fame, his pledge name is Custom Joe. Then there's Joe Cordiero of Flat-wing, above left, he'll be known as Flatwing Joe. That's not to be confused with Delaware Joe or C-Ducer Joe from back home in Jersey. I have lots of fishy friends named Joe. In addition there's Joe- Carey, Phiefer, Nicosia, and Passerella, just to name a few.

      So if you look at the top image you can see the conditions we had around 730 AM. Cloudy, with blue skies poking through, wind from the right side, or the west north west, and lots of water just about the top of the tide. I say we because shortly after I pulled into the parking lot off Lobsterville Road Custon Joe rolled it. 

     I set up the ladder and spent some time looking around but with the sun low there wasn't much to see. Custom filled in behind me after I climbed down and went walking to see if I could find some fish. That pursuit took me down the bank to West Basin. 

     Today, well Day 2, was the first time I saw multiple clouds of sand eels leaving the pond on the ebb tide. You can see them in the circle below. 

     But what's crazy is there were no bass set up to intercept them. It would be pretty easy. Find a depression, a rock, or even a shell, that changes the flow of water and just hang out and pop up and take a mouthful when they go by. I watched the scene for twenty minutes. 6 pods of sand eels, zero dimples, zero flashes, zero splashes. And for more mind blowing what's-going-on, or not, how can there not be a fish or two hugging the bank as the current really starts to crank? Very frustrating. 

     I decided to just go back and wait for the water to leave. It's literally like someone takes a drain plug out of the pond when the tide is outgoing. So as I walked I kept my eye on the bank above me where the sun had it all lit up. Zero. Zilch. Nothing.

     It was a little after nine o'clock when I turned the corner and saw Custom hooked up off in the distance. He was using his new St. Croix EVOS seven-weight rod and it had a good bend in it from what I could see. So I picked up my pace wanting to get a few nice pics after he landed it. You know what they say when the summer season comes, "Suns out, guns out". 

     His fish took a small sand eel fly that was swam low and slow with a sinking line. This fish was a nice ocean fish because it was clean and green and full of sea lice. 

     Like yesterday, as it often happens, the wind died with the tide. That made the view better from the top of the ladder. But it was tough, I had only seen two in the morning on the outgoing, two on foot, and a few while perched on top of the osprey's nest. 

     One bit of advice I should take for myself. Unless you're leaving, like really done, do not reel in all of your line and crank down on the drag. Because surely a fish is going to pop up within range and you won't be ready.

     And if you're lugging around a ladder be ready to ditch it, or a-frame it and use it. That's what happened to me yesterday. Custom had moved around me and was heading for the exit and I was following. While walking in the water up to my waist I saw a three pack coming towards me. It was a comedy of errors trying to strip out line, manage the ladder, clear the 10 foot leader and tippet from the rod tip, and then make a shitty cast. While I spooked the trio I thought about sticking around at that spot, maybe there's more that come by this way?

     Over the next 30 minutes I moved the ladder three times and finished the day with a body count of 14. 14 fish seen, maybe five shots, and yes ladies and gentlemen, one to hand. 

     He was a dandy. Classic fish you never catch. He came from behind me from right to left so he was going away on my non-dominate side. He was about 40 feet out when I plopped the Flexo Crab fly down within 5 feet of him and he stopped, made a left, and fuckin' ate it. It was cool., and now it was off to the backing races. I did get him in and put a tape measure on him...31 inches from tip to tail. 

    It was then that I realized that over the last two days that I saw more fish and had better shots 90 minutes before slack low and ninety minutes into the flood tides. So going forward, unless I just want to get burnt and frustrated, I'll be concentrating my work around those tide times. Today is the New Moon for the month. We actually timed this trip around the moon. And if the number of horseshoe crab pairs increases with the new moon then that was evident because I saw a lot more yesterday then when I got here two days ago. 

     With a few fish to break the seal it was time to head to Vineyard Haven (VH) and our home for the week. We're on Look Street a few blocks from downtown VH so it's convenient, it's just a pretty good hike to the Up-Island fishing spots. We almost cooked when we entered the house as the outdoor temps felt like 100 degrees and the inside about 125. Custom hit the rack and Flatwing and I hit the Stop and Shop.

     I think our plan was to get settled in, take a cat nap or not, have something to eat, and then go fish the evening. It went like that for a little while. Flatwing and I made a banging pasta salad to accompany some Bubba burgers and hot dogs on the grill. 

     Abe came Down-Island to slum with us in VH and we sat and enjoyed the dropping evening temperatures along with a good meal. I'm 2 for 2 with solid dinners so far.

     You know this is such a great trip for me each year, and it's something I'll have to continue to make even after I move south. And with each year the first night is one where we all catch up, and some years there's some big news, both good and bad, to share. Last year Custom was still adjusting to life after his son Joey's accident, this year Flatwing survived cancer surgery, and then there's me with all the the moves to South Carolina. And it's okay to share the ups and downs equally, and without guilt. A win for the team is just that, and everyone celebrates a win, and shows support when things are tough. 

     As the minutes ticked away and my eyelids got heavy I tapped out on fishing in the dark. In the end we decided to stay put and get a good nights rest and give it a strong go out of the gate in the morning. We talked about maybe heading over to Chappy, aka Chappaquidick Island, at 

some point this week, to see that. I've only been one time, and that was with Theresa in back in 2020. We took the 527 foot ferry ride across from Edgartown and walked around Wasque or 

part of the Katama Bay or somewhere. I did see some fish that time even though the conditions weren't great. It might be nice to try something different while we are here. Doing the same thing over and over gets a little old, and Red Beach, dare I say it, has just rubbed me the wrong way so far this trip. I'm so glad to be here, it's just there should be more fish around, just to see and not even catch, then there are currently. 

     It's 345 AM and I'm about to put this post to the press, that's what we used to say back in the day when the daily newspaper was all done for the day and they were going to start printing it. There were times when the run would get interrupted, that's where "Stop the presses" came from. The run was stopped by some huge breaking news event, that just had to be on the front page the next day, or somewhere inside, wherever you could fit it. It was a big deal sheen it happened, but it was exciting. 

     I need to start the morning with a shower before organizing my clothes and stuff before we head out somewhere. On Monday it looks like rain, so it might be that day when I'll write the kids final exam which they'll take on June 24th, after I get back. In the meantime, I'm just enjoying myself and the guys, and I'm lucky to be up here for another year. 

     And in other news, just because I like to time stamp world events here, after a 53 year drought The New York Knicks won the NBA Championship last night. 

     Funny thing is we didn't even talk about it or watch it. In the 1980's and 90's I was a huge Knicks fan and Bernard King was always my favorite player. No more sports for me, I'd rather sit at home and watch sports on TV, well not really, every game these days comes with the need to subscribe to something and pay for access. Everything kinda sucks these days. 

06.13.26 Day 1 No hits, no runs, but lots of errors....

 

     Good first day in the books. I think the tide, moon, and weather we may be looking good this week. High tides progressing from around 6-ish and then incoming starting after noon. While conditions weren't perfect yesterday I'll take this shakedown outing as a win.

     It's been a while since I thought of fishing so basically I just loaded up the Suburban and hoped for the best. So I had to begin the day trying to figure out what needs to be in the truck or what could be temporarily stored inside Abe's place until we move in to the rental today.

     Once that was done it was time to see if I even had a good reel, line, and the right flies with me. As you can see I'm not the most organized when it comes to storing flies, even with those fancy fly wallets that I love. But that's just how I roll. The chaos just helps give the fish a fighting chance. 

     I got down to Menemsha Pond around 830. As soon as I made the turn onto Lobsterville Road part of me felt like I was home. I was there mid ebb tide but things looked promising. Easy wind, still plenty of water in the tub, but the cloud cover had me just a tad worried. But, like I've said, you can have high sun and wind and still be okay, you can even have clouds with zero wind and be good, but wind and clouds at the same time, forget it. 

     I did a good job remembering what I needed but I forgot the sunscreen and as I write this this morning I can feel the 3rd degree burns on my face. I wasn't expecting much early that early in 

the morning but I did just want to get down there. I set up the ladder and climbed on and watched and waited. Nada. Since the visibility was tough I took my show on the road and went to look for a more sandy bottom so I could see better. Of course, picking out, setting up on, and casting to pairs of horseshoe crabs is always fun. I can pick them out a mile away, but at times they still fool you.

     The best part of that move was I saw three fish, probably in an hour and a half's time. I was a concerned because usually I find more fish even if I don't get a shot at them. I then moved to 

the pond side of the inlet because I always see a few fish hugging the bank or set up just outside of the hard current and exiting water. But on this day there was none. Now the sun wasn't up yet, but truthfully, I need didn't it see into the skinny water I was hunting in. And I saw no bait, no terns, no nothing. 

     When the tide was just about slack it looked liked there was a freeze happening on the pond. The horseshoe crabs just sat in place and the wind died down to nothing. This was the time. I switched over to a crab fly and went to find them. My idea was to walk from dark bottom to dark bottom patch to look for those silver flashes, when a bass eats a crab off the bottom, or from the shadows on the bottom of bass on the hunt. I wound up seeing three more fish, one that turned on my fly. They were all singles which I don't like, I prefer wolf packs, where the fish are friends, but compete for a snack. So in the first three and a half hours I saw a half a dozen fish, one that I had a shot at.

     So just as the tide turned the sun came out, and it came out good. With the low water I was still able to see well even with a bursts of wind that formed a slight ripple with at times a chop on the water. Winds from the south there push the water at you, which isn't optimal. So I had a new plan. I'm gonna take it to them. While I usually set up on the flat, within casting range of the drop-off and bowl, I decided to move out further. As risk was missing out on those cruisers that swim with deeper water on one side and the incline up onto the flat on the other. It was a good plan, or so I thought. 

     As I stood on my ladder, well let me talk about the ladder. Somewhere behind the dunes is my ladder from last year. A solid six foot fiberglass ladder. It's heavy, but sturdy. One that has big wide feet. Now this new one is taller, and lighter. Perfect. So when perched on top I'm about eight feet above the water line. As I stood there looking from side to side I noticed a guy walking up the beach, the first human I saw for the day. But as I turned right, I could feel the ladder go left, and I was done, and I knew it.

      When I finally lost my balance and fell my one leg was stuck in the ladder. Now I was in a little better than two to three feet of water, but still panic sets in. My stripping basket was filled with water, my leg was stuck, my fly line was now wrapped around me, my sling pack was filling with water, and I didn't know where my phone was. From the beach I must have looked like a seal getting attacked by a great white shark in skinny water, or a panicked infant taking a bath in four inches of water. I then flailed around trying to get up, but I couldn't with the nine gallons of water in my stripping basket. Abe said he would have laid out $300 to have seen it go down. I was a mess out there.

     When I did get up, with the ladder still on the bottom liked a sunken boat, I saw two big fish not too far away. I made the best cast I could, split the pair, and had a follow. And that's when the number of fish that came into view increased. It was an incoming tide thing. 

     The ladder was bent up a bit and once you stress an aluminum ladder it's always weak going forward. I should have checked the safety sticker on the side before I went with this lighter weight option. And I think the weight limit is about 150 pounds, and I'm no 150.

     Things started to look good, and the numbers of fished increased as the flood tide filled in the pond. It was mostly all singles, a few pairs, and a threesome. I saw some from a distance, but most at the last minute, without a really good shot at them. During the afternoon session I had four shots, meaning four turns, two follows, and one inhalation that I probably pulled the fly out of his open mouth. I couldn't see where my fly was but that was an eat, and the miss was on me. 

     And with the tide came the wind and then the clouds. Above me was a cloud about four miles wide and 100 miles long which didn't move, and that kept me in the dark for like an hour. So any fish I did see was too late. And all during the cloud cover I was sloshing around in the water filled waders. I could feel my pants down around my knees with my underwear and socks soaked. It was time to call it a day. It was about 230. I was done, and I could feel the burn from the sun on my face and arms.  

     I walked back to the truck just keeping my eyes focused on the water. But in the end I tipped my hat and was thankful and grateful I was here. And just as was about to climb up to the 

parking lot, like a mirage, Abe rolled in and held out a sandwich and a Gatorade. I split early yesterday morning before I could put something in my stomach, so needless to say I was water logged, burnt, starving, and dehydrated. But happy.

     As I took off my gear I was interested to see if my toenails were still attached from being in the water logged waders for so long. While looking like raisins in a way, all of them were intact. I then went through my day with Abe who surmised that the reason I didn't hook up because my flies were too big. 

     I had started my day with a Calcevechia inspired mummichog fly, then went to a crab, before ending up with a Ray's Fly. I got looks on all of them but no commitments. By days end it I had seen 21 fish, in about six and a half hours. That not really good compared to years past, but at least there's a few out there. 

     In the evening we took a ride over to Mimi's house for dinner. I was able to visit The Shed again where Abe does his work. And sick work it is. His creative mind runs 24/7, and he's able to put that down on paper or into a three dimensional sculpture. While I was there I grabbed his 

leaf blower to try and dry out the waders before today's hunt for big fish, or just one fish. I don't want to spend the day in wet waders, you know how they, and the wet socks, just chafe the hell out of your feet when you walk in them. So fingers crossed on that. 

     The view out to Noman's Land, three miles off the south side of the Vineyard, is fantastic. Sitting on the deck you feel like you're 

above the canopy in a rain forest. If you're looking for a summer house on the island, luckily for you it's for sale, you can see the listing HERE on Zillow.  Abe, the former chef, threw together a great dinner, but I was too tired to remember to take a pick. Kale from the garden, salmon on pita, and three of the best cuts off some poor cow's hind-quarters hit the spot with a pair of Guinness. But I was beat up, and I could feel the skin on face tightening up as the hours went on, and I was drifting off. It was a great first day, today I'll try and not make any errors, and go to a smaller fly. 

     And in exciting home front news..... While I am up here Theresa is holding down the fort and taking care of things as we get closer to closings. Yesterday was the dreaded septic inspection. I thought we were out of the woods after the home inspection but our town, Hopewell, only requires three things; a septic inspection, a well water test, and some smoke and CO detectors. 

     I didn't know what had to be done but Theresa said the guy had to dig through four feet of shale to inspect the system, and it all passed. Thank You Jesus. And the cost of making repairs or putting in a new one? Forget it. Our neighbor is in the works of selling her house, one that has an old school cesspool. That just sounds gross. Below is what a cesspool looks like and how it works.

     In order to sell her house she has to have a septic system installed. The cost? $10,000 for the engineering and $75,000 for the install. If we had to do major repairs our whole deal, well deals, would collapse. And speaking of deals, it looks like all things are a go in South Carolina, on both places. 

     Above is the Shrimper's Shack that will be home for the boat, my stuff, and my sanity. When I tell you I'm ecstatic to be moving to Sun City with Theresa and spend the next chapter of our lives together in the Lowcountry....all true. But that huge boat port and the attached lovely clubhouse is pretty f'in exciting as well. I spoke with the Zoning Officer from the town yesterday just to make sure I'm all good taking this slice of heaven over, "We'll welcome you to the Town of Ridegland...." Yeah buddy. See you soon.

06.12.16 Arriving on the Vineyard...

     

     Me and the girls were taking a morning break at TPH in their Michelin-rated cafeteria called, "The Trading Post". Let's just if you ever wanted the best grilled sandwich, like ever, The Trading Post is the place to go. I'm disappointed in myself for never having taken a picture of one, and there have been many in from of us over the past four weeks. Perfectly grilled, which means a nice crispy crust all the way around, lightly toasted in the middle with a touch of a taste of butter when you bite down, perfect amount of cheese, no flop, and the most important thing, consistency. Yesterday we ordered five of them and they came out looking like they came out of a cookie cutter. Kudos to the Chef there. If the kids remember one thing from Trenton Psychiatric Hospital it's the grilled cheese. 

     A few weeks back we were all jazzed up for when we would hit The Trading Post. I had taken orders from to call it in and when the lady answers the phone it was..."The cook's out today". So that meant a roadtrip over to Ben's in Morrisville. 

     While some who teach nursing students treat the game like it's us against them, I don't follow in that thinking. These aren't kids, they're adults. We can work hard and play hard, and have some fun along the way. Although, I might admit it would hard to explain to my boss how we all wound up in the ER after the Suburban rolled over on Route 29. 

     So yesterday the girls knew the plan, work through lunch and get out early so I could hit the road and make the ferry. Needless to say my mind was preoccupied with getting done and gone sooner than later. That's when one of the girls said, "And what about the World Cup traffic?". My heart sank. And then she added, I think it goes from Philly, to the Meadowlands, up to Massachusetts. "Okay ladies we're done here today", and that was it. Later.

     Getting over to the Vineyard has always been stressful. In all my years going there in June I've always taken a first light ferry over from Wood's Hole to Vineyard Haven. That meant hitting the road shortly after midnight and fighting falling asleep at the wheel. This year I switched up mostly due to the super tight schedule and availability at the Steamship Authority. with lots of miles to cover and a hard deadline of 845 I sweated the entire ride up. And I didn't just sweat the clock, there's no A/C in the Suburban, even though I refilled the freon before I left. And with fabric seats and 100 degree temps, let's just say I felt I was sitting in some old man's Depends. 

     In the end I never hit any of the World Cup traffic. Siri took me over the GWB to the something, to the other thing, onto the Merritt Parkway, until it met 95 below New Haven. And boy does traffic suck around the pizza capital of Connecticut. I wished I had time to stop at Pepe's Pizza but I had to keep the pedal down. It's funny when you use a live action driving app, at any moment the arrival time gets later. At first I was a 458 arrival, and then 6 o'clock, and finally around 730.

     When I realized I was going to make the ferry I allowed myself time to make a pit stop. That was in Fairhaven Mass., just outside of New Bedford. I stopped for some "I'm never eating McDonalds again" only to be happily surprised there was an Ocean State Job Lot in the same shopping center. Outside of the old Christmas Tree Shops this is my next go-to place. There used to one in Shrewsbury when I lived in red Bank and I was sad when it closed. I was ecstatic because I knew I needed one item I know I didn't bring.....shorts. With the feel-like temps around 100 I knew I needed something light inside of those waders. I picked up a few things to snack on for the week and soon I was rolling into Wood's Hole. 

     While Siri told me it was a 5-1/2 hour drive it's a haul getting from Mid-Jersey over to Aquinnah. I left Jersey at 115 AM and pulled into Abe's place in Chilmark at 1015. That's was a 

long day. Up at 430, at clinical at 630, and then bed at 1130 pm. Of course there was some catching up and a Guinness or two to enjoy before hitting the rack. 

     Before we called it a night Abe swallowed down a few of the meatballs Theresa had made for the trip. She went into full production mode on Wednesday, first the sauce, then the meatballs 

and sausage, and then packing it up with a full list of instructions on how to store it and what's for now and what's for later in the week. Before I left she told me she wasn't happy with the first batch so she got up at 330 am, while I slept, and made another. She handed me the carrying case with the "These came out really good" finished batch. But they were too fresh to put into the ARTIC cooler when I first left. They needed to settle, and cool, but gradually. So about mid-way up there I pulled off onto a rest stop and followed the orders. I opened the back door and, let's just say, slide and crash.

     This was a stash of all meatballs, probably two dozen of them. When I heard the crash I felt like I had just broken one of my Mom's Hummel's that felt victim to horseplay around the house when my brother and sister and I were kids. I actually panicked for a second and looked around to see if anyone say when had just happened. I thought about picking some meatballs from around the glass but I couldn't not help foreseeing the Two Joe's hemorrhaging from chards of glass down in their esophagus. So the whole shootin' match when in the garbage. I didn't have the heart to tell Theresa, and luckily she's not one of the daily readers here. So I won't tell if you don't. 

     And all that noise about light's out fishing here on the Vineyard...well that may be good on the social media posts but it's not happening like you may be hearing. There's no fish around, at least from the people who are here, and definitely no slot or smaller fish. But, like every year, it is what it is and you can only catch what's in front of you.

     While I had hoped of sleeping in and catching up on some rest my body is programmed for early rising. I was up at 515 AM and soon enjoying a cup of coffee while on the patio. In year's past I would have already been at, or close to leaving for Red Beach. The truth is I don't even know what or where my fly fishing stuff is in the back of the Suburban. So why rush? I could feel the humidity and dead air as I sat there. I can tell you this early prediction, I'm going to have a real hard time breathing down in the Lowcountry. I am going to have to somehow retrain my lungs on how to oxygenate in that thick and humid air down there. During these hot spells we've been having the work of breathing for me has increased. But we'll deal with that when it comes. 

     But one thing I know, and it's been since 2013, the Vineyard is a special place for me, and definitely my happy place. Theresa wished she were here, and I'm thinking that I might need to get the fishing out of my system the year, meaning fish hard, and then bring her next year. One things that's good about that, she can cook those meatballs and sauce up here, and I don't have to worry about losing a batch on the ride up. 

06.11.26 Off to the Vineyard....

     And I'm off.... It'll be a quick last day of clinical today at The Trenton Psychiatric Hospital before I high tail it up 95 to Woods Hole where I'll catch the 845 pm ferry over to the Vineyard. I'm splitting at noon so that'll give me 8 hours to get there. With rush hour and the dreaded 95 slow-downs due to construction and accidents I may be cutting it close. Today was my last day at 

Capital Health and it was a good day. Some mental health, some trauma, a stop to the med/surg floor, and my last day of cafeteria grits, which I might add are quit good. 

     But getting over to the Vineyard these days is no easy task. I liken it to taking the family to Disney World where you have to plan every step of your vacation a year in advance. These days at the Steamship Authority there are no more standby's to get over with a vehicle, it's reservations only. So say good-bye to last minute trips or running ups there because your buds have a cot for you to crash on. If I miss this 845 I'm screwed, like maybe for the entire trip. 

     There's been good reports coming out of the Vineyard as of late. Some of my favorite and not so favorite places have reported that squid have invaded and are chewing on tiny baits, and the 

bass are having all the calamari they could want. Today I stopped by the storage unit to find my fly tying stuff and I just couldn't bring myself to start flipping lids, so I grabbed what I could and will go with that. Having Calceveachia, Cordiero, Buzzi, and Pieciak means I'm good as far as flies go. If I need to I'll swing by and see Stephen at Kismet Outfitters or Coop over at Coop's Bait & Tackle. No doubt he'll try and sell me more of those red floating sliders. I already have some, never used them, but maybe with squid around it's time to give them a swim. 

     Cordiero ties up his LuluSquid and I'm sure he'll have an extra to help a brother out. I did find my crab tying box so at least I'll be able to tie up some crustaceans for some sight fishing. 

     In other exciting news it looks like the Shrimper's Shack purchase just might be a go. There's only one thing that has everybody in our camp puzzled, why is it still available? It's in to good a 

location and and sits near brand new construction so why hasn't anyone gobbled it up just for the land alone? Is this Yankee just hitting the real estate jackpot and I'm gonna be sitting on an oil field? 

     There has to be something up, but that's why you have real estate agents, attorneys, and town planners to ensure everything is on the up and up. One thing that I needs addressing is the fence. They pulled a permit, built the fence, but the fence is in violation of location and height. But to be fair to the seller, it's all on the permit. The only other thing I could see is the town just condemning it and wanting the whole thing gone. Time will tell, but right now, we're under contract. And they went and changed the Sun City house listing on to "Accepting Backups"

so things are all headed in the right direction. Until they are not. It's kind of like building a house out of a deck of cards, at any time it all could collapse. But so far, so good. 

     Back to the Vineyard. Our rental begins Saturday afternoon so getting up there early means I'll be crashing at Abe's place. The bed will still be warm as Dee Muller just spent a few days visiting. It'll give me a chance to jump on Red Beach for two days before the boys come up. I think I'm all packed and ready to go. while the timing isn't perfect, Theresa will have the wheel as far as all the buying, selling, inspecting, and moving stuff is concerned. Friday's the septic inspection, and if you live in rural New Jersey, you know how important passing that inspection is. See you here tomorrow for Day 1 at the Vineyard.