06.20.26 Day 9 - Last day on the Vineyard...

     Well we had a good plan for our last morning here on the Vineyard. Up at 0345 and on the water by 4 AM in OB for the outgoing. The boys were parked up near Town Beach and I was a little ways down the wall. During the change from dark to light I expected to see something, some sign if life, terns dipping in the shallows, a swirl, a dimple, a nothing. 

     I had proposed this Down-Island plan due to the tides and times coupled with the fact they had made the 40 minute drive the last two mornings. A very fishy friend to many, Henry, fished in Aquinnah and found a nice fish in the dark. Kudos to the guy behind the camera. 

     Since the tide was outgoing I took the short drive to Little Bridge. Surely something had to be showing where the Senge empties out into the Nantucket Sound. As you can see with the beautiful sunrise I couldn't help but take a couple of selfies while I fished. 

     I stayed for a bit and with each 15 minutes the force of the outgoing tide increased. I worked the seam along the beach as well but there was nobody home. Not home, not in the neighborhood, not in the town, and not around this island. After several conversations with fishy people we've met there just aren't a lot of fish around the Vineyard this week, but that could all change over the course of a few days. 

     I headed back to the house before hitting Tashmoo. Mother Nature was turning on the fans today and was doing it under the cover of clouds. As I got ready I knew this was going to be it. The reason I went sight fishing as 6 AM was because I was thinking my only shot was the possibility of seeing a fish in super skinny sandy bottom waters. 

     I moved around and set up my ladder in spots that would give me some kind of visual cone to see below my perch. Every now and then the sun would poke through lighting up the sand but there was no one home. The boys joined me just as I was about to head out but I stayed and took the walk to the back but even in skinny water I couldn't see, and the 20 mph limit winds didn't help. At least we were able to get a nice group photo for the trip. 

     I took my last bumpy ride exiting Tashmoo leaving the guys behind to hopefully get one. Custom saw lots of bait and Flatwing saw three fish. I hit the couch and fell into an unconscious state to get one last nap before we made our way to Kismet Outfitters for an evening fly tying event. 

     Before the guys left to set up I made them some of Theresa's meatballs and sausage and somehow Flatwing escaped getting sauce on his very Edgartown-ish looking outfit. The two would be holding a "A Battle of the Regal Vices", which really isn't a competition, just two buds tying up their go-to flies, Custom tying his Striper Dragon, and Flatwing his Lemon + Lime Fly.    

     They had a good crowd and it was a nice way to end the day and the trip. Abe joined us back at the ranch for one last quick hang before we finished up packing and turning in for the night. Flatwing is heading out on a 7 AM ferry, me at 815, and Custom at 6PM. I thought the week went at a good pace but we all agreed that looking back it always goes quick. Seven days for them, nine days for me, was plenty, and now I'm ready to get home and relieve Theresa who's been doing the heavy lifting. Starting today we start checking off the boxes to get ready for the closing which is now just three weeks away. 

06.19.26 Day 7 - Play hard, rest hard...

     One thing I can say about this past week is that I have been able to catch up on my rest and sleep. While my sleep-wake cycle has been off a bit, these afternoon nawnys have been a great reset. I've been up everynight between 2 - 4 AM, fished early at times through mid afternoon, but have always found some time to reboot. And those catnaps are more like a journey into a comatose state than just resting my eyes. It will be hard to reset back to my old ways which is usually getting to bed by 8 PM, up at 4 AM, and then running a full and nap-free day.

     Today is our last day, it's the bottom of the ninth inning with two outs. It's 237 AM as I write, and in about an hour the three of us are going to hit it in OB. The weather doesn't look good today with a SW wind predicted to 25 mph. After OB I'll hit Tashmoo for one last shot for a sight caught fish. But first I'll have to say and thank my new-to-me Suburban who made her first trip to the Vineyard. Pretty, spacious, and some how not to bad on gas, she did everything I needed from her. The wheel bearing I put in seemed to be the trick, the only thing I have to do now is figure out the A/C, especially before the summer, of which part of it will be spent down in South Carolina. While things look like all systems go with the house sale, and three purchases, we're not out of the woods and it would only take one thing to cause the whole deck of cards to collapse. 

     I got to Tashmoo at 0630 wanting to beat the wind and catch it at the end of the outgoing. With the wind and low sun getting a shot I knew would be difficult but I'd rather be standing on a ladder then laying on the couch, or worst yet, blind casting somewhere. 

    At The Shed the other evening local legend David, "DT", Thompson gave me two crab flies that he had tied up and has had good success with. So I tied on the one on the right and made my way out into the ankle to calf deep water. 

     At times the sun would pop out and light up the place increasing my cone of vision from atop the ladder. I moved a bunch trying to find the right angles and maybe where the fish were. I picked up off the flat, where I had seen four fish, and headed to the back of the pond. 

     But back there the visibility was tough, tough to the point that my head felt like it was on a swivel. At one point I swear my head did a 360 rotation during a left to right sweep. My head was always being cocked left to right trying to get the glasses and the reflection, or lack thereof, just right. In the end I saw six fish, with one decent shot that I worked but couldn't find my fly to feed the good sized bass.

     When the tied flipped the blanket of clouds set in and I knew I was done, but I wasn't. I made way out front and fished the jetty, Jersey style, as the tide ripped inside the pond and around the east side. Custom had tied up a bunch of small baitfish patterns at the shindig the other night and he gave me one to try so I tied it on and gave it a go. You can get a feel of the conditions as you look at the bucktail dancing in the wind. 

     I fished around the tip of the jetty without a tap before moving to the elevated section of the beach. I was protected from the wind and had good visibility but saw no bait and no fish. It's a 

great place to search for fish while looking at the boat action on Middle Ground with a backdrop of the Elizabeth Islands. It was there this week that one of the kids I met found "hundreds" of bass coming up onto a flat. He was in his boat and was caught up more in a swimming than fishing mode, but he did catch a few on the fly rod. 

     Before I pulled out I checked out the inlet on the start of the incoming. It was wind against tide with a steady cloud cover so having put away the ladder was a good idea. When I got back to the ranch the Two Joe's were up in the rack after having fished first light. Flatwing caught two small bass, ones that Custom refused to take pictures of. 

        It was an afternoon of naps for Custom and me while Flatwing went out scouting around. The winds were brutal everywhere you went and he took some video of conditions. 

The only people happy yesterday were the wind surfers. While he was out I ran over to Stop & Shop to grab stuff for dinner and a coffee at Cumberland Farms. Great coffee, and better yet, solid cups and lids. 

     We were on the phone with Levi joking around when my hand came up short as I went to grab the cup and 24 ounces of coffee spilled and found it's way all around the kitchen. Needless to say the spilling was just a bummer, the cleanup just sucked. 

     We ended the day with a nice steak meal Flatwing whipped up. It was a good day, except for the fishing and spilled coffee, for a good nap and good food. After my morning session I was able to get home and finish up the final exam so it was good to close the page on that. We came up with our final fishing plan. This morning we'll be out there at 4 AM in OB, and then I'll break off for one last shot at Tashmoo. Again, predicted are clouds with a cranking SSW wind, not perfect by any means. 

     And lastly the commercial season for striped bass opened up here on Tuesday. The other night at Abe's I met a guy who said he went out fishing that day "Looking for commercial". It took me a second to figure out what he was talking about. But in Massachusetts license holders, including recreational fishermen, can take part of the 683,773 pound-quota set for the 2026 season. "Commercial" fishermen can harvest up to 15 greater than 35 inch fish each Tuesday and Wednesday until the quota is met. 

     While we bitch about New Jersey's Bonus Tag Program but can you imagine if we had a commercial fishery for striped bass? Mass's 683,773 pound quota comes out to 37,987,38 18 pound fish removed from the biomass, coupled with similar commercial fisheries in Rhode Island, New York, Delaware, Maryland, the Potomac River, and Virginia. Add to that the coastwise slot fish and Jersey's Bonus Tag fish and that's a lot of striped bass navigating through people's intestines and not in the water, and not spawning. As we've seen in New Jersey, and up here as well, there's just not a lot of smaller fish around. When fishing it's feast or famine, meaning finding that isolated spot that is holding fish, and mostly larger ones. 

     So in a bit we're heading out to fish the final day. Then it'll be a nice afternoon nap before the packing up begins. Tonight the Two Joe's go head to head in their "Battle of the Regal Vices" over at Kismet Outfitters. We've already talked about plans for next year. The annual trip to the Vineyard will hopefully continue. We're less then a year away. 

     And finally a shout out Happy Birthday to our daughter Lauren who turned 24 yesterday. It's been a big year for the birthday girl as she graduated Rowan University with her bachelors degree and will soon set off on a journey heading south. Luckily Theresa was able to take a break from the house sale related stuff to catch up with two of her three kids for the celebration. That's one thing we'll have to get used to heading to South Carolina, the informal gatherings and catching ups. But with the kids in different states it'll take some planning, and lots of phone FaceTime video to stay connected. 

06.18.26 Day 6 - "It's all about the hang..."

     I'll start today's post from going backwards from last night. Last night Abe invited everyone over to The Shed for a night of good company, good food and drink, and good fly tying. It was a mix of local, and not so local, fishy people, local business owners, and and people who call Martha's Vineyard home or a place that holds a special place in their hearts. While Abe said this was a tuned-down version of all the hangs that The Shed has seen it was a solid night, and the perfect weather made it, well perfect. 

      Tucked away off Moshup Trail is the driveway that leads up to Mimi's house. Her home provides a breathtaking view that looks out over Noman's Land,  a 600 acre uninhabited island surrounded by the Atlantic Ocean. The home sits above the trees and gives you the feeling you're above the canopy in a rain forest. And an integral charm of the property is The Shed, where Abe has spent thousands of hours creating his works of art. Last night is was transformed into a meeting place of like minded people.

     Abe had the space set up in a mix of spaces that included a fire pit hang, a food and drink station, and of course the fly tying set up inside The Shed. We arrived early and were able to get some VIP parking up top allowing the Two Joe's to bring their tying stuff inside for a night of good conversation, some teaching, and of course fish, or not, stories of the one that came to hand, or not. The Vineyard has always been a fishy place and its history in striped bass and fly fishing go back for a long, long time. 

     I won't wax poetic about Abe and how I feel about him, but on the way home home I think the comment, "You are so gay for him", was insinuated. If you know then you know, not that I'm gay, but how solid of a person Abe is. He would literally give you the shirt off his back. There's even been times when I've tested him with his works of art. "Abe I really love this", and he would say, 

"You want it?, take it", and he meant it. Good people attract good people and people like Abe freely introduce people to each other growing relationships between similar people and creating a larger circle of friends. Wow, lots of people in that sentence. Ok, Abe love fest over. 

     The magic of the night was what happened inside the shed as the Two Joe's put on an informal fly tying class which really attracted the young guns from the island. They brought their vices and jumped in and listened intently and followed step by step instructions from the Master's. 

     People milled about and split their time between the inside and outside. The weather just drew you outside where the patio lighting and fire pit provided a place for introduction and conversation with someone you were just going to like because everyone there had a good vibe. 

     The soiree lasted about four hours which felt like much longer, in a good way. It trailed off after the group picture as people had to make their way to work, go off to fish, or to hit rack after a long day's fishing or work. But you could tell it could have went on well into the night, as other gatherings in The Shed have done so in the past. 

     But of the things that really impressed us the most had nothing to do with the people or the hang. During the evening we met Ivry Russillo, a local artist who specializes in jewelry, HERE. She arrived fashionably late in her lifted F-250 with the extended trailer mirrors off the side. A guys attention is always piqued when a pretty lady climbs down off a pick-up truck. She's lovely as well and when it was time for the three of us to split I asked if she could move her ride a bit so I could get out. I wish I had a picture of what followed.

     If you've ever been to the Mimi's then you know. It's a long uphill tight driveway that leads up the house and shed. It's hard enough pulling into and up it, and with everyone in attendance there were cars along the driveway, and the shared driveway, leading out to the main road. 

     So I waited for her to pull up a bit, then I saw her reverse lights light up. I thought maybe she would pull a K-turn and just pull out. And that's when her jaw-dropping big and wide truck driving skills unfolded before us. It doesn't matter if the driver was a male or female, it came down to one thing, mad skills. So I followed, with my headlights off, as this chick manhandled that truck and weaved in and out of the cars and the bushes along the driveway, to the shared driveway, out onto the street. It reminded me of one of those scenes in a movie where someone high tails it backwards trying to escape something. When she got onto Mosshup we were all like, "Wow, that was f'in impressive". 

     I stayed behind her for a bit but she soon gone. We talked about it for miles leading back towards Chilmark and every now and then we'd see her taillights in the distance. At one point she must have clipped a raccoon because it was seizing in the middle of the road. A little bit later, with her lights still in the distance, we saw some type of rodent freshly smooshed into the pavement. Pretty lady, big truck, mad handling skills, just mowing through wildlife, of course not on purpose, giving her the title we joked about, "Boss". 

     Before we hit Aquinnah it was a quick stop at Coop's so the Two Joe's could talk shop about flies and fly tying materials for the shop. My first time in Coop's was in 1989, and I have a picture of me there but I just can't find it for this post. 

     There's legends and then there's legends. When it comes to the Vineyard and all things fishing, and fly fishing, Coop Gilkes about as top tier as you can get. He serves his customers and the local community as well. He spoke about how he spent the day with twenty or so kids from the local school down on the waterfront in Edgartown taking them fishing. It's not just a business, it, and he are Martha's Vineyard landmarks. 

     And remember when the Two Joe's headed out yesterday morning at 2 Am to fish? Well they did. They took the drive Up-Island and put a beat down on extra sized shad, a few bass, and 

the fish above which Flatwing described as, "There was something wrong with that thing". And after hearing his description of the lumps and bumps, and sores and lice, he probably should have clubbed it to death and left it for the raccoons. Maybe the one Ivry ran over could have ate it for breakfast and died before meeting its demise on State Road. I don't know if the thing was even a pure-strain striped bass as it had more broken lines the solid ones. Was is a hybrid, a wiper?, which is a cross between a striped and white bass. Either way I hope it gets eaten by a shark or a seal before it infects the 50 striped bass that are swimming round the Vineyard right now. 

     And lastly to my outing yesterday. With the weather predictions spotty I decided to hit dead-low at 0645 AM. The winds and clouds were supposed to build throughout the day so I thought I might be able to find a fish or two in the super skinny water. 

My thinking was maybe I could see one patrolling the deeper waters around the elevated and dry flats. So I set up the ladder and peered into the water. Over the next six hours I looked so hard that my brain hurt by the time it was over. But I have a cool story that made the outing worth it. 

     So I one point I positioned the ladder that gave me the best angle to see the bottom. As I stood there I heard splashing behind me. I turned and looked and there was a larger striped bass high tailing its way up out of the deeper water and across the edge of the flat. It looked like one of those salmon from Alaska on their mating runs. I didn't just see one, but two. I made some casts in their direction but their goal was to get to the channel, not stop for a bite. 

     I saw my first fish at 708 and the next two at 745. In six hours I had seen 18 fish, and had two solid shots. One I could see was interested in my fly but I couldn't find it so I wound up pulling the fly away before it could eat. The other was a tank. I was up on the ladder and in a spot in the pond where the WNW wind was strong, which brought out the horseshoe crabs. I convinced myself this one was a mating pair on the move. When it got near me I could see the head was that of a bass, and my half-hearted flip of a crab fly just caused it to blow out.  

     Joe came down for awhile and while we had good sun overhead the wind and the volume of water made it hard to see fish. And the ones we did see were too late to set up on them with any shot at catching them. But it was a good day, they all can't be winners.

     As I write this at 552 AM the Two Joe's are west fishing the inlet where I hope they stay away from the shad and find good bass. My plan was to stay back and finish that final exam, where I'm on question 34 of a planned 50 question test. But as I look out I see the sun coming through the clouds and the trees waving from side to side I have to make the call. Should stay and be a good nursing instructor boy and finish the final or should gear up and try and catch one of those salmon-acting bass like I saw yesterday. I'll let you know tomorrow if I catch anything.

06.17.26 Day 5 - This post's all about me...

     We thought this would be the day. Everything was going to line up between the weather, the bait, the fish, and our skills, and we would be on them good and bring a bunch to hand. In the morning while I worked on the final exam the two boys hit OB again where we found good bait the day before. Before they got back I was already on my way back to the flats. I had my feet in the water and on the sand by 10 AM. 

     It was the end of the incoming New Moon tide so there was plenty of water in the tub. The sun was out but so was the wind which wasn't bad, but it made your eyes hurt as you searched for shadows and signs of marauding bass. Quickly I had seen nine fish, and had three refusals on Flatwing's "Fighting Crab", a crab that landed him the pool winner for the trip last year. But this year they seem to want smaller crab flies, so I made the switch and went on the hunt. 

     Of course I had the ladder in tow and I can't reiterate how a must have that is for me. When you're sight fishing on grade, like not from an elevated beach or you don't have a white bottom, the cone of visibility that increases with the added height is invaluable. It no doubt doubles or triples the amount of fish I see. And the more fish you see, the more shots you get.

     I had some skiffs with sight fishing anglers for company but they worked the channels. The Two Joe's joined me about an hour or so into the day. With each hour the numbers of fish seen increased. And it's funny how those numbers add up. You see three in short order, then it jumps to a dozen, then it slows, then you're at twenty, and in the end yesterday my eyes saw thirty three bass, and I probably made casts to twenty of them. Follows and refusals were in effect, and I just love the frustration that sight fishing brings.

     The three of us looked like those mating horseshoe crabs that frustrate the hell out of you when you're trying to sight fish. There were definitely more in Menemsha Pond but we all fell for, and made casts to, the pairs traversing the bottom. If you tracked the steps of the three of us we criss-crossed each other and set up in spots where the sun was working with us. The shimmer on the surface made things difficult, but manageable. At one point we were kind of working in the same area, the two guys on one edge of a flat, with me kind of inside them. As I walked I saw a nice fish moving from right to left and at a perfect angle. I made a nice leading cast, two strips, and I was tight. 

     Now of course everything we me has a story. So I'm in and having my fun with the initial run of the fish and that's when I noticed a huge wind knot in my fly line. It was go back and forth, through the guides, and onto the reel, and then back out, as I fought the fish. Well on one point when it made a run the knot caught the tip section and it was over. There went the tip section, anchored my the wind knot, heading down the line, and for the water. 

     So I had a fish on and had to either hand reel the fish in or get the tip section back on. I thought for sure I was going to lose it, and I didn't want to, why? Because I wanted a nice picture of me and it was one time where one of my buds was nearby. So I played it gingerly.

     The fish had inhaled the crab fly and it easily popped out of the roof of it's mouth. It was an ocean fish who came in on the tide to sniff around for a snack. And while low water is best to see them I think on the incoming tides, when the water floods, is when the fish move in and up and start snooping around. 

     You know I do this blog and I've taken a million photos to accompany the story for the day. There's some places that I can't post images about, otherwise the risk of the spot burn would increase, and other times I can't get a picture of myself with a fish, especially if I'm out in the water. So when I get that chance, like when a friend is near, I'll take it all day. It's not the fish that I need the picture of, it's me and one day having the opportunity to look back and remember how much I love striped bass, sight fishing, and Martha's Vineyard. 

     And the question you may have is, why would you sight fish without a hat on? Well, that brings us to the hat I've been wearing this week. I've gotten some heat over it so I removed it for the quick photo session. The other evening Joe took a picture of me just to show me how 

ridiculous I look. But, I have to say, that hat covers my rear neck fat, the tops of my ears, and even the acts like horse blinders that protect my cheeks from the sun. So I may look like a goof, but I'm better off for it, until someone snaps a picture of me. 

     We couldn't figure out if I looked more like The Flying Nun, for you tots that was a TV show from the late 1960's and early 1970'S, which starred Sally Fields. Or maybe look more like the

cartoon character Rocky from the early mid-century carton Rocky and Bullwinkle. Rocky, above, was a flying squirrel, and my hat kinda looks like I could take off in flight at any time. But we all know I don't photograph well, in fact I hate to see pictures of myself all double-chinned up with sagging jowels and a receding hairline, coupled with a dirty shirt that's past it's fishing life, glasses all wrapped around my sling pack, and a profile where I could double as Alfred Hitchcock. You know him, "Good evening...." But hey, Theresa loves me.

     And as of late the wind seemed to die with the tide but not yesterday. As the water receded the winds picked up, easily to 20 NW which just sucked. I ran out front and saw a few boats on Middle Ground and they must have been getting tossed around pretty good out there. 

     So for a day when I thought everything would have lined up for the three of us God was especially good to me. Yes, it was only one but it was a fine fish that I caught just how I love to catch them. The other boys saw fish, had a few shots, and put the time in between morning and mid-day sessions. But to just illustrate how things are, three guys fishing for four days, four fish in total. Flatwing is determined to shake off the skunk and he just might do that as I write this blog at 345 AM.

     Last night as we ate kinda heathy. I was hankering for a salad so I ran down to Stop & Shop and picked up what I needed and it went along with some calzones that Custom picked up in New Hampshire. It was then they talked about their next fishing plan. "We're getting up and outta here at 145 AM to go and fish the inlet at Menemsha". These boys are fishy, let me tell you. But back to the picture above, you know what I see outside of the zero nutritional value iceberg lettuce covered in blue cheese and bacon, the plastic pill boxes. That shows you you're traveling with old guys. Each of us have one and say everyday, "I've gotta take my pills". 

     So right on point the boys woke me up at 145 AM and asked me to move my truck so they could get out. I hope they hit it good out there. I hope it's bass in the dark on the incoming and then bones, or Atlantic bonito, at first light. If they score tonight then they'll be tucked in for a long days nap when they get back. If not, they'll sleep for a bit and then get back out there somewhere like two buds on a mission. These two are buds, and they're fishy, and they like to catch fish.