09.29.25 I might not be winning The Derby this year after all...

     Well we'll see how this goes, but it's not looking good. During this past week a motorist let me know the brake lights were out on my truck. I still had a working 3rd brake light but the body ones were not. So last night I decided to take them apart and investigate. More later. 

     I do have to be honest that I have been pondering over what this blog has morphed into. Jeez, it's supposed to be a fly fishing blog. What started as a mix of stories of fishing adventures, guiding, and Captaining, has become a personal diary, most of the time, with some fishing mixed in. There's no other fly fishing blog out there like this, which doesn't mean it's what it should be, or what people want to read, but they do, in pretty big numbers. 

     But to the end, this blog, for me is this. It is all about fishing. I've always claimed to be an average angler. A guy who navigates through life doing all of things everyone else does, the good and the bad,  around and including fly fishing. When you pen a blog, and there's not fishing 365 days a year, it becomes the story of life and the challenges in between those quick outings, big trips, and the people I meet along the way. Thrown in there is fly fishing related stuff like the fly fishing shows, fisheries management, and both current and past events which affect fly fishing, now almost exclusively related to striped bass. 

The old Whitehall pocket- Deal

     And in-between those gaps of casting a fly rod are the connections made between like minded and mentally ill anglers, respectfully those obsessed with the passion we share. As you have read, it's not always about the catches and the hangs, real life stuff gets in the way. Those real life interruptions make the opportunities to enjoy fly fishing that much more special and memorable. And when shit gets in the way it's that much more of a bummer. 

     The last few months have been challenging for me, not that they were all bad. A new job. The big trip to Ireland and Tara's wedding. Flooded house. The emotions of August and September as outlined in yesterday's post. While writing yesterday I realized this is also the month when Bob Popovic's was tragically injured on September 23, 2024. And I know, STFU with you and your story and connections, but I realized Bob was hit on the anniversary of when Ryan died. Just to many intersections. 

And now truck issues two days before I was to leave for the Vineyard. I just can't. But what are you going to do. 

     So yesterday morning when I got a text from my Dad that he wasn't using the tickets for the Giants game it gave me pause. My first gut reaction, we'll pass. I'm a half-ass football fan. I guess now you can say I'm an Eagles rooter since I'm living down in Bird Country. Each time Theresa and I go out for a burger and a beer it's either the Eagles, Sixers, Phillies or Flyers on the screen in front of us. 

     I planned on running around like a nut yesterday, finishing the aeration and overfeeding the lawn, changing the oil on the truck, fixing the lights, and maybe installing the toilet in the newly almost renovated downstairs bath before I leave tomorrow night for the Vineyard. But why would I let an opportunity, that we would never have again, pass us by? So we bit. 

     

     My parents have had these seats for decades and I'm not sure how much longer they will have them. I don't know how die-hard fans go to every single game each Sunday. That is a commitment, a little nutty, I guess it's their fly fishing. 

     While this experience is not typical for most fans the people seated near us and in the Coaches Club, before and during the game, were true Giants fans. Yes, I am sure some were just taking advantage of the opportunity of someone's gift but it's every Sunday fall right of passage for many.  

     The tickets come with parking, like right there parking, with an easy off and back on to the Turnpike. The Club has more food options than I could recall and it's important to eat in order, or else your stomach will let you know later. I watched a guy kill the shrimp and crab claws, down it with a beer, only to hit the cinnamon rolls before having a lobster roll and an ice cream after, with more beer. 

     It was a beautiful fall, well really summer, day at Met Life yesterday. We were in the sun and the temperatures had to hit dam near 100 degrees. We were able to snag some front row seats 

inside where we could still see the screens, the top of the players heads, the ball travel through the air, all with the constant blow of cold air on our backs. When halftime came we were only 

feet from the players as they retreated to the locker room. The only players I knew were Skattebo and Dart, who made his NFL debut yesterday. We left at the start of the 4th quarter and enjoyed listening to Bob Poppa and Carl banks on the traffic-free drive home. When we arrived home I realized I was behind the eight ball but then what does it all matter? In 10 years, if I still standing, will I remember tackling those honey-to do's or the fact that Theresa and I enjoyed her first NFL game in style? Get busy living or get busy dying. 

     With plenty of light still around I did change the oil on my truck, clean up all of the mess of the process of doing 112 projects at once, painting the house, finishing the flood repairs, and the most important this time of year thatching, aerating, and seeding the lawn. I did good, and it made going the game that much more of a good call. 

     And then by 9 pm it was time to tackle the lights. Working in the dark was perfect as I could see what lights worked and which did not. I had no brake lights, and by the time I was finished I had no running lights either. I can't take the chance of hurting someone as I travel north on 95 Tuesday night. That's just not cool. 

     I had ordered those lights in August of 2023 and they served me well. If I reordered them they wouldn't arrive till Wednesday, about the time I would be crossing the Middle Ground on the ferry. So I ordered one that would come today but it's different, and I think it'll be a stretch to get it done in time. Tomorrow's a 14 day in the hospital so my time is limited.

     It looks like I can cancel my reservation with the Steamship Authority and maybe rebook. Since I'm heading there next June we'll see if I can do that or just have a credit to my account. I do want to go, some for the fishing, but more to catch up with friends on the Island. Abe's got a bed waiting for me and I'd hate to miss that hang. 

 

     In the end it what it is. I'll be disappointed. Maybe I'll make a trip to the beach here in Jersey as a consolation. But what I will have a few dozen meatballs that Theresa fried up for me to bring for Abe, all to myself over here in Titusville. 

09.28.25 Continue to RIP Ryan F. Hoblitzell...

     Ryan Hoblitzell was 30 years old when he passed away on September 28, 2017, eight years ago today. Born in 1986 to William (Bill) and Maryann he grew up in Freehold with his brother Eric. He attended Georgian Court University where he graduated with his BSN and at the time of passing he worked as a Registered Nurse in the Cardiac Care Unit at Jersey Shore University Hospital. 

In 2014 he married Allison and moved to Tinton Falls. He was a die-hard fisherman spending his childhood fishing Lake Topanemus before moving up and on to fishing big waters for big fish with his brother and father. 

     Since 2017 there are two posts that you can count on each year. August 18th and September 23rd. Those are my son's Ryan's birthday and death day. At the time of his death, which was by suicide, Ryan was 21 years old. Now each late summer my stomach starts to churn knowing those two dates are approaching. Celebrating "anniversaries", not so much. What they are, to me, are reminders of what I, and his family, and his friends, had lost. 

     There are times when I mourn the loss of my son, but then there's times when I'm just pissed off that he chose to take his own life. Think what you want of suicide; end of someone's pain, not a choice, or being a better place. To me, as a parent of a young adult who died by suicide I believe that it's a permanent solution to a temporary problem (usually), and it is very, very selfish. And I've always pointed at the irony of me being a Psychiatric Nurse Practitioner, who has diagnosed, prescribed meds, and provided therapy to suicidal patients from 10 to 80 years old. A big miss there on my part. 

     In addition to those two posts I also know I'll be getting, and returning texts, from Bill Hoblitzell. He and Maryann would send their condolences, and Theresa and I would send ours. What is it interesting is how you never know what road you will meet another person on, and for what reason. They say people come into our life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. Bill and I have been connected, without knowing it, for probably 30 years, so many similarities and a circle of the same friends. I've never went into detail on how Bill and I are connected each September. While I usually don't ask for permission when writing these posts, this time I did and Bill honored my request. I have written about some tough stuff here, mine and others, and always do so respectfully, with the hope of not offending anyone. 

     So here I go. It may be a bit long, but it's a good ride. Captain Bill Hoblitzell is a mans man. I know him from his fishing side. In the 1990's he was one of the OG's (original gangsters) who was a fly fishing guide out of the old Fly Hatch on Broad Street in Red Bank. He did that with Dick Dennis, Paul Eidman, and Dave Choinard. All of those guys I consider friends to this day. 

Harker's Island 2002

Bill, aka Outback Fishing Charters, had the first Jones Brothers 19'-10" Cape Fisherman ( That's my ride) running out of the shop. I am sure I had met Bill back then but remember I could have cared less about saltwater fly fishing when I was a customer or fill-in helper at The Fly Hatch. I was all about Upper Delaware trout at that time.

     I think I first "met" Bill around 2008 when I started fly fishing for striped bass on the Jersey Shore and created what has become The Average Angler. He was one of the regulars with the fly rod I would hope to catch each morning. I would usually see Billy with his buddy Marco somewhere around Belmar. 

     Our circles of Jersey Shore fly rodder-friends would overlap. Guys like Massey, Shapiro, Denny, Doherty, Phiefer, and Petterson. It's a relatively small group so we were brought together through our passion of fly fishing for striped bass. When Bill was solo I would catch him up in my neck of the woods which was what I considered my home water being the groins in Deal.  

     In 2012 I caught Billy throwing the fly rod one beautiful morning in Deal. It was then he told me that his son Ryan was graduating from Georgian Court University with his BSN. I had been in that game since my graduation in 1995 so it was something we had in common to talk about. Thanks to Bill I was able to turn that image into a paycheck as The Fisherman Magazine picked it up to accompany an article or advertisement in one of their issues.

    When my world was shattered in 2017 I got lots of love from so many people. And my fishing buddies didn't disappoint. I remember that difficult night at Ryan's wake on September 27th at the John Day Funeral Home in Red Bank.

     As I stood at the podium giving Ryan's eulogy I remember seeing Billy seated with the other fishermen in the wake room that was pretty much standing room only. It would be that night where me and Billy's lives would intersect again, this in the worst possible way. 

     One thing I always say and try to live my life by, "Don't tell other people's stories". Well, from this perspective it's kind of a co-story between Billy and I. 

     Bill came to Ryan's wake after a day of work. Work can be tiring. And wakes, funerals, and weddings can be exhausting, both physically and emotionally. So when his Ryan, yes we both had and lost Ryans, called him that night to join him for a late night fishing excursion Bill gently declined. It's just one of those things. You say no, you don't call, you don't go, and in the end you just didn't know what would or could have happened. It's like the morning of September 11th, how many what-if stories have we heard.

     Ryan was planning on going fishing, which he did when not at work saving others whose heart was broken, in search of catfish the state had stocked into Lake Topenemous. Lake Topenmous. That was his home water. He knew it like the back of his hand. 

     I knew Lake Topanemus as well. I was super fishy when I was a kid. I grew up in Millstone fishing the farm's irrigation ponds. But I went to grammar school at St. Rose of Lima in Freehold and would spend a lot of time at my buddy Jody Gilpin's house. He also liked to fish. So we would drive some bikes from his house on Hull Avenue to Pond Road to the lake. That was like 1980. A few years later, when I could drive, I would go on to date a girl from Monument Street, of which Pond Road was the extension, and the parking lot at Lake Topanemus was the place for some late night star gazing and ....

     On the morning of September 28th I learned that Billy's son Ryan had been in a boating accident and was missing. The younger Hoblitzell, like a die-hard fisherman, stayed with his plan and went that night with a friend. Something happened in that boat around 3 am and Ryan went missing. Circumstances regarding the incident were hard to digest then, and for some, remain to this day. 

     Twelve hours later Hoblitzell's body was found and he was pronounced deceased. 

     While I can't imagine what Bill and Maryann and their family were going though I can tell you it hit Theresa and I hard. But this isn't about me, but it kind of is. You see, if Ryan hadn't taken his own life then Billy wouldn't had been at his wake. The two, well all three of them, Hoblitzell men were fishy, and if you're fishy you know what that means..... you go fishing. So in addition to the "What are talking about?", when I learned what had happened on the night of Ryan's wake, the chance circumstance of it all was a gut punch. Did my son's selfish act of suicide cause my friend's son's death? 

     I think, for 8 years now, I've struggled with that without really knowing. You see, that trauma we all face is a nasty thing. It's right there, or it's been healed over, or, it hides itself deep in your brain and alters the way you think and live until it rears its ugly head. So I now understand why, in some part, those September thoughts and prayers between me and Bill bring on an extra dose of uneasiness. Now to be honest, at some pint early on I apologized for what happened to his Ryan because of what my Ryan had done. I know there's no blame there, but.... you have to wonder, and that's what I do. Every action has a reaction. Actions have consequences. And some things, when they occur, cause collateral damage. 

     So for the rest of my life, every August and September, as I have done for the last eight years, Ryan Archer's death, isn't remembered alone. There's another Ryan, Hoblitzell, who is part, to me, of the bigger story. And while you can just shake your head and say, "That's just all f'ed up", it's hopefully part of God's plan. It is written in the Bible that God said, "No temptation has overtaken you what is not common to man. God is faithful, and He will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation He will provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it".  To note, temptation is Greek for pierasmos, or suffering. We've dumbed that down to "God won't give you more than you can handle". For some things, that's way easier said than done. But you gotta believe, or not. 

     Those boys were good boys. Ryan H. maybe a little more of mans man than Ryan A., who was more cerebral and a genius type thinker. The earlier could probably kick your ass where the later would destroy you in a debate on the theory of relativity. I hope they have met up in heaven, brought together, like their father's, in this thing called life and death. 

     And I hope they, like Billy and I, are able to share a tide this fall where the weather is perfect, the fish are biting, and God's space, either down here or up there, is beautiful in every way. You just never know what's going to happen each and very day, so much of a reason to enjoy it and keep your family and friends close. And strangers as well, as they can become part of your life in the future, and then forever. 

09.26.25 They say we're not in a drought...

     Things are looking kinda dry out in these parts as of late. A quick look at the numbers for the Delaware River show a flow of 3120 cfs. That's a trickle of what we see in the spring during the runoff and rainy season. I remember my best days fishing were when the chart was rolling over 40,000.

     Following the ASMFC meeting I realized how long it had been since I had some waders on. So after burning off some more lead paint in preparation for some new coats I took a short ride to the river. Low is an understatement. I easily made my way across the river looking for some deeper water to cast a fly into. I surely thought I'd have some luck, but I didn't. Not a tap. 

     I also realized that I have take some time to get ready for the MV trip next week. I have two days of work at the hospital, stuff to get done around the house, and maybe a run down for an overnight at Cape May. My truck is loaded to the gills with just about everything from fishing stuff, tools, and even things from when I cleared out my office at Essex County College a month or so ago. 

     The water temps are running around 73 degrees which is far better than those 85 plus degree days we saw in the summer. Any holdover striped bass surely are seeking refuge in the faster and better oxygenated water or deeper and cooler holes. While some still target them through the summer I feel it's best to lay off them. If it's by-catch then fine, but to target them not so much. But to each his own. 

     Luckily the dissolved oxygen is right where it should be, 8.2, with the higher the better. There were times when parts of the river had less than 1, which was just a dead zone of water without much life. Cool water with plenty of oxygen is what striped bass need. 

     And then there's the turbidity. It's now about 1, which is pretty much gin clear. My best days this spring were when it was over 15. The happy medium is around 8. The best times I feel are when there's visibility, but not too much. Higher flows mean higher turbidity, generally, and fish are holding in spots out of the current, and need to make quick decisions as baits move downstream past them.

     I went and checked to see if we were in a drought here in Mercer County. The weather has been beautiful but there hasn't been much for rain as of late. Interestingly the NJ DEP lists Hunterdon and Mercer Counties as "South-west" New Jersey, 

I thought we'd be more like Central-west. I don't consider us any kind of south. But yes we are dry but not droughty. According to the NJ DEP rainfall monitor my neighborhood has had .53 inches of rain in the last 72 hours, but it was weeks without a drop from the sky. 

     And for any readers of this blog who happen to be on the Vineyard this week don't miss a fun night tonight at Kismet Outfitters in Edgartown. My buds, The Two Joe's,

Calcevechia and Cordeiro, not Chiavarone and Armenti, will be battling it out on the vices tonight. It'll be "The Clash of the Regal Vices". Joe said they'll have some swag as a give away and flies on hand to purchase. I wish I was up there for the hang with those guys this week. If you're fishing The Derby and need some go to's for those bonito and albies stop by Kismet tonight. 

09.25.25 Attended the Pennsylvania ASMFC public hearing on Addendum III...

     I took the ride over to the Silver Lake Nature Center in Bristol PA for Pennsylvania's public hearing on the Addendum III draft to Amendment 7 of the Interstate Management Plan for Striped Bass. The addendum was filed down during the August meetings and following this public hearing and comment period it will go to the committee for a vote. It will then be implemented in 2026, unless there is some need for an emergency action, like they did with the slot in 2023. 

     Interestingly Pennsylvania falls in line with the other East Coast states as far as having the same regulations, even though the salt line in the Delaware River falls between the states of New Jersey and Delaware, around RM 70, +/- a few miles. In 1906 there was a record drought and that salt line creeped up to the City of Brotherly Love. 

     While Pennsylvania isn't really, in my opinion, a big contributor to the mortality (F) numbers in the legal harvesting of striped bass, which leads to a real blow in the SSB numbers, there's plenty of (F) with poaching and poor catch and release practices. Now New Jersey shares the Delaware River with Delaware and PA, but the nethanderals who fish New Jersey are known for what they do along the beaches and from the boats in the bays and inside the three-mile line. 

     The Delaware River is a border water for the three states. I'm just going to talk about the mid-section, where NJ and PA share water because when back in his heyday Tiger Woods could hit a drive from one state to another. To note, there are different regulations depending on 

which side of the line that runs down the center of the river you're on. It's confusing to the anglers, and I'm sure for the fish as well. New York's Hudson River, the number two spawning river, is completely within the state of New York so those regulations protect the fish from both sides. Where I am those different regulations cause confusion, and allow various interpretations, in when, where, and how you can fish. An example would be during the months of April and May, the Jersey side is closed but the PA side is open and anglers can harvest one fish per day 22- less than 26 inches. Enforcement on both sides is limited, and practically ineffective. Writing tickets for fishing without a license doesn't protect the resource, it only generates revenue for the individual states. 

     Now that discussion wasn't part of the public hearing but it is an important thing to consider if the states and the ASMFC truly want to sustainably manage a spawning river fishery. 

     Emily Franke, the fisheries management coordinator for the ASMFC and Tyler Grabowksi, a fisheries biologist from PA, guided the meeting which had about 60 in-person attendees with more virtually. Franke does a great job and I have heard her during public hearings and during commission and committee meetings. Last night she outlined what is up for public comment and which will be decided "...no later than October 2025 with implementation in 2026".

     

     There are things in the addendum that are on the table which have a limited effect on some anglers but more more to others. How to measure a striped bass for harvest? Pinch the tail or not. I'm not harvesting nor looking for records so it doesn't matter. The point at when a commercial operation should tag a striped bass that going to be sold? Either at the hooking, the landing, or the selling point. I say when it's on the deck. Maryland and the Chesapeake, that could always be its own meeting. But, what is interesting, was the sniff that they may be considering opening up more of the bay and rivers for no-harvest, if it is decided that alternate plans of seasonal closures will help meet the required 12% reduction. 

     And then the good stuff rolled in. Slot limit's. It's out there that recreational anglers may have two different regulations. For shore based and boat anglers the 28 - 31 inch slot would continue, but for those recreational anglers fishing on a fire-hire (FH) boats, that slot would be 28 - 33 inches? WTF?

     Needless to say I am out on mode splits. Why should anglers that have access to get to the fish, by boat, using all kids of technology, and various methods of fishing, snagging, rehooking (circle hooks), and dropping, trolling, live bait, lures, and flies, be able to harvest a bigger fish then a guy perched at the end of Phillips Avenue waiting a bass to swim by? I'll get to more of that later. 

     Now remember, all of this has to do with rebuilding the SSB, or spawning striped bass biomass, by 2029. And that in itself leaves room for intrepretation, discussion, or argument as 

some say that the SSB target and threshold isn't as bad as it is being reported, compared to rebuilding years in the 1990's, or to too pie in the sky, meaning it doesn't have to be that high. As it stands now, like status quo, if nothing is done then the chance of "rebuilding" sits somewhere around 30% by 2029. A 12% reduction pushes that to 50%, 18% reduction moves the chances, to 60%. There's going to be an updated stock assessment in 2026, so we'll see if the numbers have improved since the slot was mandated and circle hooks only was instituted. 

     So then it moved to the hot topic, well, really it's lukewarm. No Target. Meaning it's closed. Everywhere. Done. Okay. Try enforcing that. "Hey, we're fishing for bluefish", "...fishing for walleye". Pick your species. Are the law enforcement folks going to pull out a lie detector test? So then it moves over to No-Harvest, or catch and release. Now this has some traction, but it's also slippery for others. Basically it calls for there to be a shut down of harvesting for a certain number of days during the Waves, two month increments January to December, numbered 1 through 6. I've explained it before here and I can't do it again. 

     Alright, just a bit. If they were going to do an All Ocean closure during Waves 3 (May & June) and 6 (November and December) there would be 22 days, in each Wave, where you couldn't target, and 31 days where you couldn't harvest. Doing it all ocean wide creates some controversy because these are migratory fish. July to New Jersey is different than July in Masachusetts. So they may have different Waves for different blocks of the states. New Jersey falls between Rhode Island and North Carolina. In order to reach a 12% reduction, during the months of November and December (Wave 6) there would have to be 26 days, 

during that two month period, where there's no targeting, or 36 days where's there's no-harvest. You could add a wave, and that would reduce the number of days a touch, but either way, there will be seasonal closure, coming to a fishery near you. 

     And the thing to watch....those snakes in the grass, like Adam Nowalksy and his buddies, is this. Don't think for a hot second that the lobbyists and the commercials aren't calculating right now if it's better to take the No-Target, with a reduced number of days over a No-Harvest, which is more days. They know it's not enforceable, especially when there's similar predator fish around. It's like taking the plea deal, you take the 5 years behind bars, rather than the risk of coming away for 10. Watch that meeting when these appointees get together, it's greasy, and dirty, and digesting. They're thick as thieves some of these states. And to boot, they are all trying to calculate how they already or will meet the 12% reduction. NY will claim the April 15th start, NJ will say they NEVER meet the commercial quota with the Bonus Tag Program (In leu of having a commercial fishery in NJ). 

     Anyway, then they opened it up to public comment. I saw some familiar faces like Bill Veldoff, Chuck Many, and Jim Hutchinson from The Fisherman Magazine. Veldof opened up talking about if any studies have been done regarding the damage beach replenishment has done to the Jersey Shore. Manny suggested that maybe the Raritan Bay needs to be regulated a little more tighter, as far as seasonal closures, because these pre-spawn Hudson River fish gather en masse there, and get hammered each spring. While New Jersey opens up March 1st, New York angler have to with until April 15th. That will work to New York advantage when they have to prove how they are contributing to the 12% reduction. 

     There were other points as well. There was a lot of mention about menhaden and the Virginia based boats and their affect by reducing the amount of forage fish for striped bass have access to. As it says on the Menhaden Defenders sticker, No Bait = No Bass. And bass love bunker, or porgies, depending on where you're from. 

     I even stood up and offered a couple of comments. I've been writing letters and it was time to stand up and be on the record. I guess kind of put your money where your mouth is. And I have to say, Emily took notes during everyone's comment while up at the mic. I started with choosing the No Harvest over No Target, mostly due to lack of enforcement. I endorsed for no mode splits. I again brought up to Emily that it is my belief that for-hire operations should fall under the commercial sector. They are commercial! Licenses, insurances, it's a business. Money is changing hands. Shockingly, she said they may be considering making them their own sector. That is huge. Imagine taking all of the mortality, (F), from the party boats and the six-packs and putting them in with the commercial operations. Then what would recreational (F) numbers look like? In addition to the straight harvesting numbers, no doubt higher with the for-hire fleet. I just think of the Captree Fleet conglomeration. And that somehow those numbers get glommed in with a guy casting flies off the beach. 

     I asked if they have considered using different data than the current volunteer fishing effort survey (FES) provided from NOAA in MRIP. And, have they ever surveyed the people who come to these meetings if any of them have filled out the form and sent it back in? It's not a good system, and therefore the numbers are not even close to being accurate. I discussed the Delaware River being a border water between two states, which have different regulations, and how they should be managed together as a fishery. Easier to compile data, easier for law enforcement, and easier to come to decisions on seasonal closures and size and bag limits. And lastly, even though I hated to say it, I suggested that the ASMFC consider rotating the slot. A 28 -31 inch slot may work, or have worked, for a year or two, but then the survivors grow out and the next year class of fish grow in. Maybe, one year it's 20-26 inch fish only, followed by bigger slots, and then even a trophy slot, if you have to, for maybe part of a season. We have to protect the good spawn year classes at any cost. 

     But one of the best questions of the night and one that piqued my interest was....What percentage of Delaware River fish contribute to the SSB? For years, like forever, it was a few percentage points, like maybe 3% at the max. Grabowksi, the PA fisheries biologist, stated it was now somewhere around 15%. Wow. That is big. Like huge. He kind of Danny-downered it when he suggested they may be Chesapeake fish in the end. You see there's something called the Chesapeake and Delaware Canal, a 14 mile long, 450 foot wide, 35 foot deep cut that runs from the Delaware River to the Elk River, which is a tributary of the Chesapeake Bay. Some think those fish come through and over and up. They might, to chew, but I don';t think to screw. 

     During the 1970's the Delaware River was a dead-zone. Nothing, well maybe a few, made it past Philadelphia, at least migratory fish, like striped bass, shad and herring. There was a 0% dissolved oxygen (DO). When the stripers "returned" studies were done to find out where they came back from. Like were these Hudson or Chesapeake fish that expatriated? In the early 1990's a study was done and samples were taken from 191 striped bass and it was determined that they were, in fact, the original Delaware strain of fish. So there. (Original of the Present Delaware River Striped Bass Population as Shown by Analysis alf Mitochondrial DNA, Waldman & Isaac, 1994). 

     But then, more recently another study and paper were published outlining the different strains of striped bass, and, it looks like there may be some interloping between the Chesapeake and Delaware striped bass going on, from the article,

    What's interesting is about a year ago I wrote about the chances of having striped bass stocking programs. Some laughed me off. But if you look above there are genetically similar fish in the Hudson and Kennebec fish, because they stocked the Kennebec with Hudson fish over a period of nine years starting in 1982. So there. The above comes from, River-of -origin assignment of migratory striped bass, with implications for mixed-stock analysis, Wojtusik, et.al, 2022)

     So it was a very good public hearing, in my opinion. What will the ASMFC do with it all? I don't know. They've disappointed before and I am sure will do again. It's the reps from each state that make me nauseous. Changes are a'coming so get ready, but so is the fall run. Please consider reming that second treble hook on your plugs and for spin and fly anglers pinch those barbs down. Always carry hemostats, not your Klein tools linemans pliers. They should be long and skinny to pop out those barbless hooks. And Keep Em' Wet as best as you can. 

09.24.25 Mmmmmm....I'm digging that...

 

     This image made its rounds on social media a few weeks back. I really have to hand it to this guy for his ingenuity. While the image was posted there was little information that went with it. In the photo we see a beach buggy with a striper sticker on the door with the caption, "Dry Land Tuna Tower". 

     So I did a little digging and found out some more. On the top of the ladder is Robert Francis. A Cape Cod fishing guide from back in the day. Francis started guiding clients on the beach during high school in an old Model-A Ford. I was able to find an article from The Washington Post from 1979 titled, Stripers Make Memorable Day, featuring Francis. 

     Seeing that image, and thinking of ladders, always brings me to Martha's Vineyard. I have brought a few different ladders up there over the years and next years will be one I am

designing, well really modifying, for those flats I so love to fish. And speaking of ladders I'm currently all laddered up myself trying to finish up some projects before I head north next week.

     What started out as flood damage repair inside somehow brought me outside to repainting part of the house. It's not connected, but it is. The windows in the main room where the busted pipe poured thousands of gallons swelled up the windows so I had to remove them 

and while there I decided to burn off the 100 years of lead paint and caulk and paint them. And then my undiagnosed ADHD and lack of focus kicked in. So here we are now. 

     In the short time I've been at work on a surgical/ trauma floor I've been reminded how the tiniest of missteps can lead to serious injury. We hear about them from time to time but everyday, somewhere, someone is having a trip, a fall, or a twist which leads to fractures and brain bleeds and injuries that require long healing and rehab. And the older you get, forget it. And ladder falls while painting?- they happen more than you know. Now I'm a ladder guy, having  

spent several years as a ladder company fire captain in Downtown Newark. But that was then, and my day to day life doesn't involve ladders nor heights anymore. So when I'm up 20 feet and Theresa says to me as she leaves for work, "Be careful up there", I pause for a moment thinking how I don't want to be that guy that falls off a ladder while painting. It's been a while since I've been banged up and don't know how I'd be able to handle it at my advancing age. 

     Today I am heading over to the Philly airport to drop off my Mom who's heading back to Florida post-wedding visit. I was supposed to accompany her as she was scheduled for a Watchman insertion procedure (more on that later) but it was postponed. Being here will hopefully allow me to finish up, well let's say complete 75%, of some of the projects I got working on around here before I leave for the Vineyard next Tuesday. I have a Wednesday ferry but I'm swiping out of the hospital at 7pm Tuesday night and heading up. 

     It's been beautiful around these parts for the start of fall but there's some weather coming in. I'm not a weather knower but there's some storms out somewhere over the ocean which will bring some rain, wind, and waves to New Jersey. We all know what those storms can

do to any mullet run we may have going. A day or two before a storm any fish that may be around will chew but they usual blow the mullet out. Some years you'd have a billion before a storm and then the next day there's not a one. I'm not sure what that weather will do to the

fishing up at The Derby on the Vineyard. My buddy Joe's up there now and posted the above picture. No doubt there's some Crown Royal in that flask which was Bob's go to cocktail. This will be my first time up to the Vineyard in the fall and while the drive and the ferry may be annoying, as Bob said the best part of the trip is stepping foot onto the island. It's T-minus seven days, if I don't fall off the ladder. 

09.23.25 It's been eight years now....

Ryan Michael Archer 8/18/96- 9/23/17 (21 yrs)

     Not much you can say. Death. Dead. Gone. Forever. Some sooner, or too soon, then later. If it's not the age, as in young, then it's the means. Medical, traumatic, self-induced, or victim of a crime. Those only add to the confusion and the pain. Now, for those that are dead, there is no pain, and hopefully they are all in that better place we call heaven. I'm a believer in that.

     Burying a kid. Yeah, that sucks. They say it shouldn't happen, but for a million people out there it does. For some, they bury two, or all of them, before it's their time. That must really suck. 

     I think the thing that bothers me most, besides him being dead, is that I will never to get to see what he would have become. Stupid smart, musically gifted, a real nice all around kid. I would have liked him to be seated with the family at Tara's wedding this past weekend, or at family dinners, or maybe even out fishing. But I what I think I would have wanted to see the most is him happily married with his own family. 

     I think when your kid passes before you you at first think of them everyday, and that hurts, and then you don't think of them everyday, but when you do, it hurts more. It's all part of it. It's the gift that keeps on giving. And I won't even get into the whole suicide thing, and me being in the business, go figure, right? 

     Time doesn't totally heal all the wounds but time does help them scab over. But they can easily picked open and that isn't always pleasant when they do. I try and stay positive and remember the good times and the good, well great things, about Ryan.

I sure do hope he's up there with his buds, and hopefully he's met some of my family and friends as well. I know one day we will meet again...

09.21.25 Our first wedding weekend is over...

... and what a weekend it was. We did it! Well they did it! Congrats to our Tara and her husband Simon on their wedding day. Many of you have been down this road before but this was out first rodeo. And rodeo is appropriate because the kids live in Texas, but married at St. James 

in Red Bank and had the reception in Freehold. They did a great job planning everything from across the country and coordinating guests coming in from Texas, Long Island, Florida, Spain, and Taiwan.

     Above are the happy parents, yes there's six of us, of the bride and groom and I couldn't be more proud and happy for them. 

It's been a busy year for me and now I feel I can finally exhale. I took on the extra work during the spring semester, actually doing the work of three professors, opening up Cape May, heading off to Martha's Vineyard for a week, a big trip to Ireland, dealing with the busted pipe flooding in the house, and then the wedding. I'm not complaining because it's been all good, but now I hope to settle in a bit and concentrate on work, the house, and fishing. Fishing, what is that? 

It's about 10 days until I leave for the Vineyard and fishing The Derby. That should be fun.