06.15.26 Day 3 - "Hello ladder my old friend..."

(Sung to Simon & Garfunkel's The Sounds of Silence) "Hello ladder my old friend, I've come to fish you with again". So, today I pretty much went against all the advice and things I said I wouldn't do. It was Flatwing's first full day on the island and of course he wanted to get going. We discussed several options based on some local intel and things Custom and I have seen since we got here. 

     After some I'm-ready-for-the-Lowcountry-grits, which my wife makes better, it was off to the races. In yesterday's post I said I wasn't going to Red Beach and wasn't going to try and sight fish until real late in the dropping tide. Well, I think I was perched on that ladder at first light just as the tide was still filling in.

     Custom had his specials of the day picked out and they were on the menu and ready to be eaten. The problem we’re having is there doesn't seem to be a lot, like hardly any, bait around. A cloud of sand eels here and there and some small baitfish hugging the usual sod bank or traveling back and forth with the tides. Basically the only things that are moving are the horseshoe crabs. 

     We're about 22 minutes from Look Street in VH to the Aquinnah side of Menemsha Pond. In the early morning and without traffic, and without those super annoying bicyclists, it's a nice ride. Remember I said I was going to wait until later in the tide, like 130 PM, well the above pic was snapped at 612 AM, so much for that.

     I started out putting the knee pads back into my everyday-water-logged-waders. I'm wet in both feet and my underwear is moist so the leak must be somewhere in my groin area. These are my favorite waders yet and Orvis have stopped making them. They better be good on the repairs because I will sending them back, in fact I may call them today. I have some other things to talk about as far as repairs, you'll know about that soon enough. And in other Orvis news, Orvis has stopped making their indestructible stripping basket. 

     If you go on their website and type in "stripping basket" the above is what you get. I don't want ECO-friendly when it comes to a stripping basket. I want one that is hard, durable, can be drilled through, and lasts forever. Bad move Orvis, on top of bad moves. 

     The reason I needed those knee pads is because when I stand on the ladder my knees rest on the top rung. After a day without them, because they were drenched, I had red marks on my shins from rubbing on the waders and aluminum. 

     If you know then you know and what you would know is there was a lot of water in the pond when this picture was taken at 8 o'clock. The wind was a tad stronger than we thought coming from the dreaded SW which created enough of an annoying shimmer on the water. But even so if you kept to the sides you could see a passing bass, if there were any. 

     And as far as fly selection there's mixed feelings on that. Go big, like a size 1/0 or go home, or throw size 6 crabs and baitfish flies? Yesterday my Flexo Crab wasn't any bigger than a quarter so I opted for a Brad Buzzi albie fly. It didn't matter in the end I never made a cast with it. On the first drop I saw a trio of fish that came from right to left off in the distance. 

     I was perched pretty high up on the ladder and close to the boys. At one point I could feel the stressed aluminum start to twist below me, I was going over again. But this time I somehow rode it down like I was on a surfboard and was able to stay bone dry. "Are you alright over there Colin?", asked Custom. I answered "Yes", but then said to myself, "Alright this ladder has got to go." 

     I had moved down and pretty far out on the flat thinking I'd just wait them out if my ADHD would allow. That lasted 10 minutes. So I put all my gear on the ladder and went it search

for the original Vineyard ladder. One that I knew was stronger. So I walked over the dunes and through the heavily tick infested brush on the hunt. And then that's where, "Hello ladder my old friend....", popped up in my head. Needless to say I'm been humming it for about 18 hours now. 

     She was sitting right where I left her a year ago. What that tells me is no fly anglers chose that stretch of dune to use as a toilet, only to be pleasantly surprised when they found a ladder to use while there. She was rusted tight, kind of like the tin man in the Wizard of Oz, and I could have used a little oil on her joints but I finally got her to open her legs. That came out kind of creepy. 

     I swam her back out to the ladder I brought this year and was surprised how tall that one is. That just solidifies my belief that there aren't all that many fish up here this year. Being that high above the water should really help me pick out the fish, and in three days I've seen just 43 fish. 43 in fish with about 20 hours on the water, so 2 fish per hour. 

     So I swapped out the ladders and returned this years to where last years stood. It was getting near low tide so I shouldn't have needed the extra height. When I got up on the ladder I noticed it was lower, which reduced the amount of water I could see through, and it was much more stable. Like I could look side to side without throwing off the center of balance and tossing me into the drink.

     At 1043 AM I took the above pic of two guys who had just blind casted consistently for three hours without a tap. They were done and I followed them out. I wasn't sure if this was a food break or done done with this place for the day. It becomes a risk vs gain type of thing. Like should I stay or should I go? 

     I tried to stay optimistic and offer up a good prediction. "The wind has been dying with the dropping tide and the sun is high and bright?" The they said low tide was over two hours away I kinda thought to myself I was done as well. In the end they split and I stayed. 

     And what did I do with my time? I took the most glorious nap in the back of the Suburban. I haven't had a truck with a cargo area in a long time and this thing is great when you need some shut-eye or are too cheap to get a room. The SW wind just caught the tail end of the truck so it was nice and cool and all in the shade. 

     I woke up before the alarm that I had set went off. I had slept for about 90 minutes which was great. I was ready to go and find them and at least annoy them. I checked the wind app before I went out for round two....

11 knots is 12.7 mph, not too bad, zero would be better but I'll take it. It looked like it would be low water, high sun, some wind, which is not too bad, if there's fish around.

      The trouble with the low water, and wind at 11 knots, with some gusts here and there, is it creates whitecaps across the flat. That creates shadows that creep along the sand below. Throw that in with 100 mating horseshoe crabs and let's just say it's not as fun as it should be, but hey, that's fishing. 

     At one point I was moving from spot to spot with the ladder dragging behind when I saw two nice fish within range. I dropped the ladder, got off a good cast, but they just swam off. I made a longer "going away" cast but I had lost sight of them. After just about two hours I was done. Total fish for the day was 8 fish seen, no real shots, and only about five casts with any hope. 

     Back at the parking lot I met a guy who came over and said he fishes the pond every morning by kayak. He confirmed what we had found, let's just say no bait, not much for fish, and less than perfect conditions. We talked for a bit before we said our good byes. As I pulled away he flailed his arms and stopped me and said, "Do you have your fly rod?", adding, "I know that sound when it slides down a truck". 

     So I got out and found my new Orvis D 9 ft 10 wt laying there. It looked perfect and I thanked him and put it in the Rodmount rod holder in the back of the Suburban. As I drove past Lobsterville I noticed my 

rod tip was missing so I went back to find it. 

     A quick search revealed it wasn't on the ground but dangling in the middle of the rod....yep, I had ran it over. So that and the waders will be going back to Orvis. And oh yeah, I didn't tell you about my new Orvis D 9 ft 12 wt.. While trying to twist off the sections one of those flimsy line guides twisted out, so that'll be a nice package heading back to Vermont. Luckily I have a spare Orvis H2 9 ft 10wt with me to use. I should have brought my stocking foot waders as a back-up, and I would have if they weren't packed away for South Carolina already. 

     I stopped by Abe's on the way home as the Two Joe's were visiting Kismet Outfitters. When they got back we came up with a plan, some nappy naps now, then dinner, then off to fishing. 

     Well we accomplished two of the three, as in the naps and the meal. When it came to fishing Down-Island in the evening we realized it was all dead low, the wind had picked up, and really, I just think we were a little deflated from another disappointing day at Menemsha Pond. We just hung out for hours which in the end was enjoyable and time well spent. But going forward we need to think like a fish and come up with a plan. They say insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results, it seems to just keep going back to Menemsha Pond might just be insane. 

     And while we chowing down on sausage and peppers sandwiches Abe was Up-Island digging into Theresa's meatballs that she slaved over for the trip. Even with the batch I lost on the way up here we still have a bunch in the freezer for some night later this week. 

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.