I'll circle back around to the start of a my day in a bit. But today was a very, very, very beautiful day to be on the beach, and I guess a boat as well. 80 degrees for late October. A Saturday. West wind. A swell for the surfers. Water temps warm enough for the swimmers, kiddies, and dogs.
Now, how was it for the fly rodder looking for some striped bass.....it sucked. I had a plan and worked it. I was at the gate before 530 and knew exactly where I was going and why. One, to be away from the crowds, and two, maybe thinking there would be a ton of bait up closer to the bay.
While driving I stopped and checked out the bay with the off-by-a-day Hunter's Moon working towards it's first light set. I was confident in my plan and I was sticking to it at least for a few hours. I didn't want to get into the drive to find fish quagmire I usually find myself in. I took Dominic's advice the other day and brought along my folding chair and some coffee to enjoy the day.
I was sitting down alone as first light came up but soon there were some anglers to my left and right. When I say I don't like fishing with people I don't mean anyone just the larger crowds. But it was
nice to just sit and watch the boats start to make their way south coming around the Hook and other's heading into the bay coming from the Shark River and Manasquan Inlets. There was a good swell
with the incoming tide and a south to north sweep. The wind was west and I thought the table may be set for a good day. The swell might make it a bit tough but if the birds were up, and the bait in, the bass would find them. The stretch of beach where clothing is optional isn't the easiest to fish. There's a point
a bit south and one to the north and the rollers come into the beach off the southern point and kind of die when they hit the northern point. In between is when you get those waves that roll right along where the trough meets the beach scarp. I threw some casts but wasn't feeling it. So I decided to sit down and enjoy my coffee and just sit and wait for something to show. And boy did it.
And in the c'mon man category. So I'm sitting their in my half-busted chair sipping a coffee with binoculars and a camera around my neck, and dressed up in waders that were starting to raise my body temperature. I would raise my binoculars from time to time and look to see if there were any birds. Well, on one pass I noticed a chap doing his morning stretches facing a person that was by herself. What I found strange was that there is no protocol or etiquette for loosening up a bit with some morning wood working. Like wouldn't you face away from the stranger that you set up next to?
I don't know it's not my scene. But I know that a guy on a nude beach with binoculars and a long lens camera may be frowned upon so it was time for me to jet.
I knew my day was over when I left the park. I had passed each parking lot that was loaded with cars. I knew it's wasn't just fishermen but I just didn't want to worry about every backcast hitting and old woman, child, or dog as they walked past. I stopped in the usual spots and some I didn't because there
were anglers bunched up at the parking lots, beach access points, and boardwalks. If there were 300 fishermen out there this morning 22 of them were fishing. I pulled into a nice overlook. It's perfect for
the lazy fishermen who wants to see what's going on. There's a few choice spots like this where you can just nose in and take a peek. That one north of here was lined with vehicles so there was no easy peek.
It was getting near 9 am and the tide had ebbed for a few hours. There was something going on in the waters off of Long Branch down to Belmar. While writing this I see that the big fish are still here and on
the adult bunker. The above pic was taken by Capt. Chris Buchta and he was in front of me while I fished from the boardwalk with my binoculars. I thought at that point there was a lot of boats out there but little did I know. Throughout the day I was on, near, or looking at the water and I saw no peanuts in tight, well at all, and no point at which the adult bunker were pushed in. I saw basically a shitshow out there. More than a ton of boats that my pictures don't do it justice as far as quantifying the shear number. Just look at the guy below in the center console motoring
through the fleet on the inside near the beach. It it wasn't the boat traffic it was the surfers enjoying the swell. There were at every rip from Sandy Hook down to Belmar, in big numbers. Fishing along a groin today? Forget it? That's the path surfers take to get back out to the waves. So after seeing that and I wasn't going to really fish I knew I was done. But then I got excited because I knew where I was and
I wasn't too far from Neptune and Bagel Talk. That's right, another pic from my new favorite bagel place. But I didn't want to be done fishing even though I had taken all my stuff off to cool down
and put my gear away. But then I thought. What about that one spot. If no one is there I know I have caught fish there before. I parked, looked over the dunes, and it was angler free. I quickly dressed and made my way down. I was going to catch, even just one, which would be good for my morale. I passed the grandparents, the parents, the kids, the dogs, the surfers, the priests, the cyclists, ones on crutches and in a wheelchair. "Excuse me", I said out loud as I passed closely to someone, but in my head I was saying, "Excuse me professional fly fisherman getting ready to catch a striped bass".
So I turn the dune and it's just perfect. There's a guy soaking something on the south side, which is where I wanted to be, but that's okay I'll go to the end. On the north side there were two young children playing with their father. I walked out the end and started to strip off line and I saw something out of the corner of my
corner of my eye that got me nervous and real quick. It was a building swell and the first wave in a set of four that pounded the front of the outflow/groin. Well the wave hit and the force of the water rushing across the top nearly cut my feet out from underneath me. And then I stepped back on the green covered
metal plate that had me go into a partial split. The blow holes cut into this contraption, used to relieve the pressure from the waves underneath, let loose and it was water like a geyser into my face. I turned the other way and another spout hit me. And then the second wave hit. It was the same thing all over again, only this time my fly line was out of my basket and down into the water on the north side. A few more spouts in the front and the back and I was saturated and my hat slightly askew on my head.
Calmly I gathered myself and the waves had stopped. It was flat again. I looked like a drowned cat and as I left with little dignity I looked to that pocket on the north side where the kids and their dad were playing in the shallows.
"Daddy that man almost fell in", the kid said his dad.
The dad chuckled, "No he's okay".
I walked off the rocks, tipped the brow of my cap and smiled at the kid.
And to myself I said, "Excuse me professional fly fisherman getting ready to catch a striped bass".
