06.09.25 MV Day 4

     And finally a fish picture. If Bipolar Disorder is characterized by mood swings that include episodes of mania and depression then I have a diagnosis for Martha's Vineyard weather. Maybe I should be more specific, the MV winds. Yesterday was a good example, almost zero in the morning, the N, then NE, then E, then N and then it was time for bed. Yesterday was a busy but good day.

     When I woke and went to my truck I saw an illusion that stopped me in my tracks..... early sun. When you see good conditions in the making you basically have to stop what you're doing and make a move, and that's what we did. It was Joe and I heading west where we'd meet up with Joe C, well that doesn't help, okay Big Joe, who was taking an early ferry over from Wood's Hole. 

     We took the scenic State Road way to get Up Island. While driving I was giggly thinking of what things would look like because it was just shadows all over the road from the sun beating down on the trees that lined the road, and it was 630 am. 

     But then when we got into Aquinnah my heart started to skip a beat. The other day Abe told me that Down-Island was much sunnier, and I started to see fog hanging in the trees on Lobsterville Road. This can't be happening. Things were like bluebird skies in Vineyard Haven, what's the difference up here? 

     But we arrived and somehow the pond was clear and pretty much as soon as I put the truck in park I was gone. I was thrilled to see my shadow, see a flat pond for the most part, and the ability to see the bottom, where of course the horseshoe crabs were easy to pick out.

    I took a walk around at the top of the tide to see if I could pick out any in the skinniest of water. I didn't see any so I grabbed the ladder and headed out onto the flat thinking I could see fish patrolling the shallow sandy bottom along the deeper vegetation covered bottom along the edge. 

     Shortly after I set up I saw three fish, made a cast, the smallest one came and ate, and I brought that one to hand. That's the fine 40 inch bass you see above. Well, 40/ 2 + 5 - 3 x 1.2. Let's just say it was below slot sized, but I didn't care. It was the fish I looking to catch the way I wanted to catch it.  

     Joe arrived from an early ferry from the mainland and then showed coming by the water to Red Beach. He would be able to cover more water and found a bass under some terns that were working the start of the inlet on the dropping tide. 

     Then the winds started and the clouds rolled in. A combination of a N and then NE wind made for broken water except for an area protected by the dunes on the beach, but that's not were the fish were. I saw an early bakers dozen of fish, caught one, and Little Joe saw about 20 but had all refusals on the many flies he threw at them. We fished about 3/4 of the ebb tide before calling it a morning. 

     Back at the parking lot I enjoyed, well not really as I realized I don't like mortadella, a sandwich Joe made for us before heading out. Joe loaded up his Hobie and we went separate ways, the two Joe's went fishing and I hit Stop and Shop for some items, including a razor for me because I was starting to look a little unkept, and that's not the way a gentlemanly fly fishermen should look. 

     When I got back to the ranch, literally, the boys were still out and the sun was beaming. It was 130 and I was thinking of a Guinness and an over noon nappy nap. But I was here to fish so off I went. I took the back country road drive down to Lake Tashmoo. Every single time I go

there I recall the day, maybe 2015, when we were in Joe C's pickup truck, that's Joe Carey, and Dick backed him up from the passengers side as we turned around to find the right road down to the inlet. "Look's good Joe", and with that Joe reversed, hit a tree, and creased his rear bumper. I think about two days after returning he traded that truck in for newer one. 

     Tashmoo was just about perfect, just about that is. A steady E wind blew down the pond meeting the incoming tide at the mouth of the inlet. Terns and cormorants worked the outside but I wanted to walk and wade. It was as close to bone fishing as you could find. Ankle to calf-deep water that was easy to spot fish even with the wind driven broken water. The only problem was there were no fish. 

     I jumped outside to a high perch to see if I could spot any cruisers but that was just more eye training. The only cast I made was to reel up my line before heading back. If you've ever taken that drive to Tashmoo then you know. It's either the best place to test out your vehicles suspension system or test your recent cervical surgery. At one point I hit a series of bumps and am still wondering if I corrected any spinal abnormalities I have or fractured my spine. Go slow, it'll get ya. 

      It was time for me to make a stop at the gas station for some much needed fuel. At $4.19 a gallon it took $85 bucks to fill it up. If I filled up Up-Island it would have been more as a gallon up there is $4.89. While standing there not talking to the station attendant I looked at the small crowd of outdoor 

diners at The Net Result across the road. I drove across the road and picked up a cup of chowder to put something else in my belly besides the crackers, chocolate covered almonds, and cashews which have been the staple of my diet for the last four days. 

     By late afternoon it was time to get ready for the evening, and or night. With a stiff E wind it was debating where we might find fish and have the wind working with us and not against us. It was a change of lines, new leaders, and picking out the right bait for the dark. 

     One thing about going away with real fly tyers is you'll never be without flies. So Joe, Big Joe, opened up his boxes to me and let me pick out a few for the night. 

     We fit into one car and headed to State Beach. Over the last few nights the squidders have been out there so we thought there was a chance some bass maybe on the beach. 

     The E wind was in our faces and we worked the beach until we started picking up vegetation just about every other cast. Then we started thinking of another plan. Little Joe thought we might be well served in the protection of bulkheads and boats so we headed to a busy harbor. 

     We fished in the dark before finding the Mother Lode of bait under the dock lights. It was YOY herring that was in thick like a carpet and there were some bass that were coming in from time to time to chase them around. At one point a bass chased the ball up to Little Joe's feet, almost flipping itself into his stripping basket, I watched it and it was that close. 

     I watched the bait move into the shallow water being pushed in by patrolling bass and a couple of mallards that were swimming around. The boys fished it hard while I was intent on getting some good pictures and then some good video. Below is the YOY herring which I have never seen before.

     But then I noticed that the mallards, a hard working hen and a drake, who I think had getting laid more on his mind then eating, working the bait balls. It reminded me of the scenes when the orcas push water up on the beach and catch seals that get tossed around on the beach scarp. And what blew my mind was watching ducks hunting and eating fish. I thought ducks ate bread? Well not up here. Check out the video below, it's fascinating to watch.

     We packed it in around 11 and were tucking ourselves into, our respective beds, by midnight. When I woke up this morning to pen this blog I couldn't not think of how much Bobby would have liked last night. He too would have enjoyed watching the bait, and the ducks. So this morning instead of his Coffee and a Fly I offer Coffee and a Bait.