Thursday, June 18, 2026

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.


Wednesday, June 17, 2026

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.


Tuesday, June 16, 2026

06.16.26 Day 4- That's one handsome dude...

 

     Some guys just have it like that. Custom Joe is one of them. He just photograph's really well when it comes to fishing. While most of us have tons of fish and fish holding photos of ourselves most of them just fall short in one way or another. In pictures with Custom you can see that his smile and happiness is not staged, it's genuine. Over the last few years we've worked on his finger placement and fish holding techniques and he takes the cues well, and the quality of the pictures has improved. When I see his face I can only go back 50 years ago to a cute little kid over his Grandmother's house for the Sunday family meal of meatballs, pasta, and sauce. And as each family member that enters the house they grab his cheek and give it a squeeze, and say, "Joey my boy, you're just so handsome". 


     So on the other side are guys like me, who don't photograph well and have no history of getting my cheeks squeezed. That's me above taking the morning to write the students final exam for next week. I started around 5 am and worked as the boys got ready and went out fishing. I have to get this done and this morning will do more of the same. But as morning wore on I got the itch to fish somewhere, anywhere.


      With our rental in Vineyard Haven making the run Up-Island to Menemsha is more of a journey then a quick outing. So I decided to stay local and hit Tashmoo. It's literally less than 10 minutes away. I arrived around 1130 and found conditions pretty good. Dropping tide, bright sandy bottoms, high sun with sporadic cloud cover, and a wind that was there, but settled down with the dropping tide. 


     There was another guy on foot and two in skiffs patrolling around looking for fish. I set up the ladder at a point where the sand meets the darker vegetation covered bottom. I wasn't up in the air but for a minute before I saw my fish fish coming towards me going from left to right. I made a cast leading him that got no notice and then just as he disappeared in the darkness I saw him follow my crab fly out. I stripped, I twitched, and then paused it before he refused it and moved on. 


     Over the next two hours I planted the ladder down in several spots and walked across the flats. It was a good day, saw nine fish, had five that showed interest, with three solid refusals. I had a crab fly on, obviously not the right one, and wonder if a baitfish pattern would have got it done. I didn't see any bait, that's why I went with a crab fly. 


     If you know then you know. Each year various state's publish their own, "Most Dangerous Roads". Massauchetts should include that small section of a dirt road leading to Lake Tashmoo as one of them. If you take it slow, or fast, it really doesn't matter, in the end you're going to get jostled around. 


     When you look at from the driver's perspective it doesn't look all that bad, but be warned. At some point your head is going to hit the roof which could displace your cervical spine or whip you from side to side only to have your head hit the side window exposing you to the chance of suffering from a subdural hematoma. And since it's one lane there's always someone coming from the opposite direction. 


     The three of us were running on the same cylinder. Rest in the mid-afternoon before hitting it before the sun went down. In the morning while I worked and then hit Tashmoo the boys were out in OB where we would return to later in the day. Custom caught the fish up top and Flatwing broke off a good fish while I worked. 


     We found a parking spot by the stairs near Inkwell Beach in OB. Inkwell, or Town Beach, has a long and strong history dating back to the Nineteenth Century as it is a well known and travel destination for black, or African American, travelers. While the names, like Chicken Bone Beach in Atlantic City, may have had derogatory undertones during their initial labeling, these locations have become annual destinations that have been passed down by families for decades. 


     We had to navigate just enough of a small crowd of late beachgoers to find some water that hadn't been splashed through throughout the day. We made out way down towards the Oak Bluff's ferry terminal and I chose to poke around through the pilings looking for patrolling bass while the boys made their way out onto a sand bar.


     I saw a ton of bait circle-eighting around the wood and could feel the warmth from the eyes that were trained down on me as people waited for the next ferry. Two came when I was there, one was from the  Steamship Authority and the other a passenger only Seastreak ferry. 


     I did this for a bit making a handful of casts before moving out to check on the guys. Flatwing had a solid follow without a commitment and Custom just did his thing, cast after cast after cast. He tells me he can't do what I do, stand and wait, and needs to be in motion while fishing. You can't catch fish when your fly is dangling in the fingers in your non-dominant hand, that's why he catches more fish.


     So I moved down to Town Beach and saw the "jetty", as they call it, leading out from the beach entrance. When I got to it I could see it was kelp covered from beach end to the tip, which can only mean one thing...slippery. But groin tips are just so fishy. So I started out. 


     I fished both sides around the tip and the pole without a tap. I did see bait, in fact OB had the most consistent bait we had seen, a mix of sand eels and, I don't know what they are, but I'll say minnows. Luckily I made it up and back without taking a spill. Not only is the kelp slippery, but the stands are like hair covering the rocks so it's hard to see the gaps in between the, One wrong step and it could be a easy ankle, foot, or leg fracture. 


Like we've said there just doesn't seem to be a lot of fish around. Before calling it quits we stood there and came up with a plan. Grab a slice at Giordano's before heading 


up to Menemsha. The slice hit the spot and if I were doing a Dave Portnoy, "One Bite Everyone Knows the Rules", pizza review I'd give it a 7.6. No flop, not running or greasy, with a nice 


crisp and crunch as you made your way around to the crust. The $4.75 a plain slice, I guess that's just welcome to Martha's Vineyard, but for me, a tad much, but Custom treated anyway.


     While we had high expectations about Menemsha there was some things we forgot to factor in. Tide rushing in on New Moon, NW wind from 15-20, and tons of people on hand for the sunset. There was some people out fishing, from fly rodders on the rocks and docks, to kids 


tossing live bait, to a line up of spin guys down by the boulder field. There were some birds working and word has it there's bonito around in the early morning. With two hours left in the flood tide the harbor was chock full of water, and construction equipment as well. You can see the water up above the boards with plenty more to have came in.


     In the end we decided to not stay and headed back to Senge. But before we left Flatwing made me pose for an awkward picture at the Swordfish Harpooner Sculpture. You wouldn't see Custom posing for pictures like this, maybe I should do the same. Horrible.


     Today it'll be more of the same, work for me in the morning and then a quick run over to the local waters. The boys are hitting State Beach at first light before working a plan we talked about last night but I can't remember all the details. We'll have good sun, but some wind around as well. It seems it will die with the dropping New Moon tide so that should be good for me up on the ladder. 


     My prediction today is we will all have the opportunity to have a picture taken with a fish in hand. Today may even be a numbers day, like more then one each. But success for me isn't hooking, fighting and landing them, but just finding them and seeing if they are interested, or not, in what I'm throwing. I still believe this trip could be a big fish trip, so we'll see about that.


     We have some socializing to do while we're here and tomorrow night we'll be hitting Abe's "The Shed" up in Aquinnah for a gathering of like-minded fly fishermen. Then on Friday at Kismet Outfitter's the Two Joe's will do a head to head fly tying tie off before we head for home Saturday morning. There's still days of fishing to be had with a mix of sun, rain, and clouds. It's all real good, I'm just happy to be up here. And thanks to my wife who's holding down the fort, and tackling all the house selling and buying stuff that's going on everyday. Thanks bud.