Above is one of my favorite images from 2025. It's a smaller fish that was making a turn in the tank. Just love the lines, the fins, and water. Well 2025 is in the books and if I judged the year by the later half I would say it kinda sucked. If I judged it by the first half then it wasn't so bad.
While this blog has morphed from time to time to my personal diary and home improvement newsletter it still remains a fly fishing blog. Believe it or not even with all that non-fishing related content people can still relate. They can relate because for most of us fishing is not life. Life is work and family and stuff with a little, or at times, a lot, of fishing mixed in. And the time spent fishing ebbs and flows like the tides. When you're young you just go as much as you can, crazy hours around the clock. Then life sets in. College. Career. First house. Family. Kids. Then it becomes an escape from the previous mentioned responsibilities. Then it goes away. And then before you die it comes back like a full moon tide.
2025 started for me on March 14th. I was working in Newark and the two rivers near there had become my early season go-to spots when things opened up March 1st. This spring there was only two trips there as I put in a ton of hours at the college. It will be interesting looking forward if I ever make those trips again.
With us now living along the Delaware River and a place down in Cape May which is at the start of the Delaware Bay that is now my home water. It's close. I'm kinda dialed in after 8 years, and it can be productive. But both of those waters can be difficult and frustrating to fish, but that's the way I like it. These places aren't the kind that you can just pop in and fish, well you can, but the defeats far outweigh the victories,
As we all know the weather patterns as of late can drive an angler mad. Droughts then floods. Cold then warm then cold again. No wind then monsoons. The Delaware River is a beast, and at times there are beasts swimming in front of you. But truth be told I'm not a beast fishing kind of guy. Give me a day of 26- 34 inch fish and I'm in my glory. Throw in a big fish from time to time, even one that may become unbuttoned and I'm in heaven. Above is an example of how things can change in an instant, or over a day or two. A river merrily rolling below the norm at 7,000 cfs only to hit near 60,000 the next. It's bipolar at times, but that's where the fun comes in. Being dialed in means you have to break out the strategy and tactics book from your mental library.
The later part of the spring brought good success when the bass met at the intersection with the flows and the bait. I was lucky to have been a part of it mostly alone. Find the bait and you'll find the fish.
I happened to have a several day window where I was available to drop everything and fish hard. While this year I spent more time exploring to the north and south then where I usually fish it paid off. Just when you think you're dialed in all you have to do is fish in another place to be humbled. Each spot has its own sweet spot. Some places it's the tides and flows while other places it's just the flows. And while I won't talk about numbers I will say I had my share of bass
thumb this past spring, alternating releases from hand to hand to reduce the pain. At one pint I had to concoct some finger guards from bandaids and electrical tape. If it wasn't the hard palate
of the bass's mouth causing injury it was the fly line burning cuts into my skin. But hey, I wasn't complaining, but my fingers hurt like hell.
In the big one that got away category came a quick early morning while Theresa slept in Cape May. It was May 25th and it wasn't a fly fishing day. I took a ride to the jetty at the Cape May Canal where the ferry terminal is. It's a popular fishing spot especially for anglers throwing baits out a mile while standing on the large flat that extends off the beach. I've stood there in line making 30 foot casts while the guys next to me toss their 3-ounce plugs 1,000 feet. So you can imagine what my body count was.
It was after first light and after a day or so of 500 mile per winds. The tide was on the incoming but on the low side and I was there, so why not fish. Of all the places I have confidence in this is not one of them. It always seems to be dirty, like a grey nasty ugly color. But that never stops the dolphins which patrol right off the tip of the jetty. Looking at the big picture you can see how it could be a good spot with multiple currents and cuts for bait to get caught up in and predator fish on the prowl.
Needless to say there was no one fishing and not even anyone walking the bay sand with their dogs. I was all alone, and rightfully so. But with the 11 wt in hand I tied on a large darker herring pattern and did my best to overcome the wind. Sometimes my cast died just where the rocks met the water, other times it sailed over the crest of the soon to be breaking waves. While I couldn't track my fly in the water I could see it for a bit after it first landed or just before I pulled it out. Then there was that cast. It was one of those perfect how to cast into the wind casts. High on the backcast and driven low into the wind. As the fly traveled across the crest of the wave a huge bass exploded on it.
I hooked that fish near the tip of the jetty and luckily she made her way up the bay and towards the beach. I figured my only shot was to beach her so she was cooperating well. Needless to say I wasn't prepared for a big fish, or any fish for that matter. She took the line and probably half the backing and I had to high stick it to keep pressure on her. A few times I pumped the rod tip to make sure the barbless hook was set.
I had made my way halfway back to the beach when my fly line went limp. I had broke her off. And what do you do when you drop the fish of the season? You stay. And I did, frantically trying to find another unicorn that may be out there, but it wasn't. It was a one hit one fish outing. To add insult to injury was the proverbial question from a supportive wife who enjoyed the alone time in the sack, "How was fishing?".
To end May I joined the two Leif's up on the East Branch for some Upper Delaware trout fishing. It's amazing that Delaware River. Dry flies for wild trout in its upper reaches, a mix of smallmouth and walleye through the middle, and a mix of migratory fish like shad and striped bass in the lower sections. Throw in that a muskie and it really is a world class fishery.
It took a while for me to get my trout on. I have become so used to fishing with a stripping basket that I feel naked without it. That's even when tossing dry flies off a 4x tippet on a five weight. I just can't manage that line off the water like I do when it comes from the basket. To make my "What's that guy wearing?" look even worse I carried the tank and a bucket to fill it
with me. If the striped bass made for pretty pictures swimming in the tank surely a 20 inch brown would as well. The only problem was there were no 20 inchers for me and trout aren't as hardy as a striped bass. The goal is always to reduce the stress and get the fish back in the water as quickly as possible. With the flows up and most of the fishing done at water waist level backing to the banks and then doing the whole tank thing would be not fish friendly. It would be easier done from the comforts of a drift boat.
And then it was off to my happy place. Martha's Vineyard has become one of my favorite places to fish for striped bass, ever. Yes I'm decades late from when it was the bomb but that's okay. Put me on a ladder on a flat and I'm just happy, well more obsessed and possessed.
And this aspect of fly for striped bass wouldn't have been if it weren't for that invite in 2013 from Bob, Dick, Steve, Joe and Jerry. For that I am eternally grateful.
This year I had the pleasure of sharing a house with the Two Joe's, in Calcevechia and Cordeiro. Two buds who are sweethearts and just great guys all around. We had a great house that located just outside Edgartown. While I prefer to stay more towards Aquinnah, like everything else, the expense of a weekly rental isn't like it used to be.
Fishing Martha's Vineyard in June can be as frustrating as it is anywhere else, maybe multiplied by 10 if you plan on strictly sight fishing for striped bass. Not only do you need the fish to be in front of you you need Mother Nature to cooperate. Things, fish, tide, sun, and wind need to all line up. Take one aspect out and you're in for a frustrating day. And the winds the last few years up there in June....brutal.
I was able to spend some time with my, well everyone's, buddy Abe Pieciak. Of course great artist, and a just great all-around and giving guy. It was Abe who convinced a couple of the
Vineyard young guns to take the above off my hands. I say "above" because I don't know what to really call it. A boat? A pontoon? Anyway its new home is on Menmesha Pond, where it was destined to wind up from its birth in Northeast Philly. Abe labeled it the SS Archer, very nice.
The week plus trip was fun, but it was challenging. Between the weather and the fishing those dam 1/2 inch sand eels it was more standing and hunting then catching. I did land a few
fish while there but none of the absolute tanks that I saw swim by. It's funny this sight fishing for striped bass. Just because you see them, and present a fly properly, equals a solid eat. While we know striped bass are opportunistic feeders no doubt there are patterns in their day. There's a time for moving, for eating, for digesting, and resting. A look is a look. A refusal a refusal. Not getting bit doesn't mean you suck, it might just mean the timing is off. Imagine coming out of a an All You Can Eat sushi place and someone outside offers you a Big Mac. You might look but not take a bite, or you'll throw it all up.
I nicknamed the Two Joe's early in the trip as Big Joe and Little Joe. It worked for a bit but I didn't like the connotations that came with it. So I chose Custom Joe (Saltwater Custom Flies) and Flatwing Joe (Flatwing) in the end. It was Flatwing Joe who had the pool winner for the week although Custom Joe had his fair share of fish to hand as well.
One thing I learned from these two guys over the week is to just fish. While I maniacally traverse around different spots on the water with ladder in tow these two just buddy up and fish, and catch. I loved being off in the distance hearing them talk and get excited when one of them hooked up. They are truly fishing buds.
One of the highlights of the week was when we had a picture perfect morning before the winds kicked in. It's also one of my favorite photos of the year. That morning I got Abe up on the ladder at Red Beach for his first time. And of course a fishy guy does what fishy guys do, bringing his first laser sight fished bass to hand. The picture was just about perfect to me until Andre Hamilton from Orvis let me know I was wearing the sling back off the wrong shoulder. No wonder why I didn't like wearing it. Duh.
Back in New Jersey I ended the year catching a striped bass on June 27th. While there are still striped bass in the mid-Delaware River warm water striped bass aren't my thing. When the water temps creep into the 70's I'm done. It stresses the fish too much in my opinion. And in addition to that the whole scene is just different. The water is low, it's warm, and the migration of bait is just about done. The cold water of the Delaware with the high flows just brings with it signs and smells of life.
In July I received a package from Massachusetts. Flatwing Joe, who enjoys painting with a brush, sent me this framed painting of Abe and I at Red Beach. For me it started the countdown to next years trip back to the Vineyard, which today is just six months away.
After a four and half years run teaching nursing at Essex County College it was over. Some things that were going down there coupled with a torturous commute had me searching for greener pastures closer to home. So before the calendar turned to August I had to clean out the
office and drag that old striped bass mount back to Titusville. After a fall semester at Capital Health school of Nursing I can say I still love the game, but Essex County College and those students will always be home.
The summers for me usually meant making the early morning trek to the beach for some pop em' up or crab fly fishing. Along the Jersey Shore we used to have a healthy summer over population of striped bass but that no longer seems the case. While there are fluke around patrolling the troughs that's not enough to get me to commit to the half a days fishing.
For times better well spent Theresa and I took the girls for a trip of a lifetime over to Ireland. It always amazes me how this big trips go. You plan and save for over a year and in a two-weeks span it's over and back to reality. I'm telling you that in another life I was a fly fisherman or nurse in Ireland, or maybe a farmer. Who knows, either way I feel at home there.
I started the "Fall Run" with an early trip down to the beach in mid-September. By then the summer crowds had gone and the chance to hook a dog or a person on my back cast had been reduced. While pretty at first light there were no signs of bait or bass.
These mornings used to be my favorite hands down. It were those days when we had a solid mullet run and the bass, either resident or early migratory, would intercept them along the beach. While my first outing for the fall left me skunked I was hopeful for a solid fall run that just
never materialized, at least for those fishing in waders. While I was super busy with work and projects around the house I kept my eyes and ears open for signs the fall run was going, but it never did. I did pack my stuff into he car when we headed out to Long Island in November
but that was more a "If I see something" kind of look. While I passed on the Atlantic Saltwater's Fall Classic weekend I did venture down for a long and tortuous day at the end of November
where I brought two small hickory shad to hand. So much for the 2025 fall run, which most anglers I know said was their worst year in a long time, like a very long time.
I ended the year on a cold December 8th morning. while hopeful when I got there in the dark it soon became a morning of just not feeling it coupled with sour milk from a bagel place stop. If you couple the disaster from the lack of action from the ASMFC to the disappointing fall run it's no wonder why I was feeling less than inspired to fish, which is sad. Fishing isn't always about catching, but it should be fun, and there should be some hope that's there's a fish out there to be caught.
So how could I rate 2025 with my last striped bass caught on June 27th and only a few trips out during the last six months? Well, not all that bad, thankful to the first half of the year. The things that got me through were a solid spring, a monster that got away, and a great trip to the Vineyard.
And what will 2026 bring? No one but God knows for sure. We never know when out time here is going to be up or if we're going to physically able to fish anymore, but the anticipation and hope of being out there with a fly rod can be life support when life gets in the way.
I'll be starting 2026 off with a trip down to the Hilton Head area where I'll put in some directionless time searching for redfish during their winter season. While it's not a fishing trip it will be nice to visit that area where we hope to continue our last days here on earth. We've only been there during the dog days of summer with Africa like temps, so being there in waders with a light jacket will be a nice change. Hopefully the fish will be more cooperative then I have found them during the summer.
Then it'll be time for The Fly Fishing Show which hits at the crest of cabin fever. This year I'll only be a one day attendee as my ER rotation with the kids starts on the 23rd of January followed by a must attend 90th birthday party on the night of the 24th. And as far as going on a Sunday, you know how those days are. On the 25th will be the NFL Conference Championships and by then most of the people working the show want to Get Out of Dodge. So Saturday from the bell opener to about 2 I'll be wandering around with Theresa.
After that, like many others, I'll reacquaint myself with my fly tying room, which now stands as a storage space for everything from window unit air conditioners to bins from the Christmas decorations. As usual I'll be tying up those bigger herring style patterns that I have come to love to tie and fish so much. One thing I know I'll have to grab from Brad Buzzi at TFFS is some AHREX Bob Clouser hooks in 4/0 and 5/0 which are my favorites. But I'll also have to tie up some crab and micro sand eel patterns for our return trip to the Vineyard in June.
Above is where we'll be staying in Vineyard Haven. While it is in town and Down-Island it's still a place to call home with plenty of water and opportunities to fish in the area. We'll be right off State Road with a clear 24 mile shot Up-Island to Aquinnah and my favorite places to fish.
One thing I can say is running up to Martha's Vineyard for a weeks fishing isn't like it used to be, it's pricey and that's even before the summer season kicks after the third week of June. It's big money these days so ANY place you can get is worth it's weight in gold.
As far as a continued wish list of things to come? As I look outside I see me and Jim's Jones
Brother's 19'10" Cape Fishermen spending another month under cover. One day she'll take a ride south to get refurbished. That'll mean a new tank, new deck, and some new power. While I prefer to fish with boots on the ground there is definitely fun to be had when out on the water chasing birds and bass.
So have a Happy New Year and be safe if you're out and about tonight. 2025 is just about in the books and it's another year traveling around the sun. Just for some fun facts. Each year, well in 365.25 days, the earth travels 584 million miles around the sun at 67,000 mph. That .25 days each year is why we have a leap day every four years. Now you know.