Good first day in the books. I think the tide, moon, and weather we may be looking good this week. High tides progressing from around 6-ish and then incoming starting after noon. While conditions weren't perfect yesterday I'll take this shakedown outing as a win.
It's been a while since I thought of fishing so basically I just loaded up the Suburban and hoped for the best. So I had to begin the day trying to figure out what needs to be in the truck or what could be temporarily stored inside Abe's place until we move in to the rental today.
Once that was done it was time to see if I even had a good reel, line, and the right flies with me. As you can see I'm not the most organized when it comes to storing flies, even with those fancy fly wallets that I love. But that's just how I roll. The chaos just helps give the fish a fighting chance.
I got down to Menemsha Pond around 830. As soon as I made the turn onto Lobsterville Road part of me felt like I was home. I was there mid ebb tide but things looked promising. Easy wind, still plenty of water in the tub, but the cloud cover had me just a tad worried. But, like I've said, you can have high sun and wind and still be okay, you can even have clouds with zero wind and be good, but wind and clouds at the same time, forget it.
I did a good job remembering what I needed but I forgot the sunscreen and as I write this this morning I can feel the 3rd degree burns on my face. I wasn't expecting much early that early in
the morning but I did just want to get down there. I set up the ladder and climbed on and watched and waited. Nada. Since the visibility was tough I took my show on the road and went to look for a more sandy bottom so I could see better. Of course, picking out, setting up on, and casting to pairs of horseshoe crabs is always fun. I can pick them out a mile away, but at times they still fool you.
The best part of that move was I saw three fish, probably in an hour and a half's time. I was a concerned because usually I find more fish even if I don't get a shot at them. I then moved to
the pond side of the inlet because I always see a few fish hugging the bank or set up just outside of the hard current and exiting water. But on this day there was none. Now the sun wasn't up yet, but truthfully, I need didn't it see into the skinny water I was hunting in. And I saw no bait, no terns, no nothing.
When the tide was just about slack it looked liked there was a freeze happening on the pond. The horseshoe crabs just sat in place and the wind died down to nothing. This was the time. I switched over to a crab fly and went to find them. My idea was to walk from dark bottom to dark bottom patch to look for those silver flashes, when a bass eats a crab off the bottom, or from the shadows on the bottom of bass on the hunt. I wound up seeing three more fish, one that turned on my fly. They were all singles which I don't like, I prefer wolf packs, where the fish are friends, but compete for a snack. So in the first three and a half hours I saw a half a dozen fish, one that I had a shot at.
So just as the tide turned the sun came out, and it came out good. With the low water I was still able to see well even with a bursts of wind that formed a slight ripple with at times a chop on the water. Winds from the south there push the water at you, which isn't optimal. So I had a new plan. I'm gonna take it to them. While I usually set up on the flat, within casting range of the drop-off and bowl, I decided to move out further. As risk was missing out on those cruisers that swim with deeper water on one side and the incline up onto the flat on the other. It was a good plan, or so I thought.
As I stood on my ladder, well let me talk about the ladder. Somewhere behind the dunes is my ladder from last year. A solid six foot fiberglass ladder. It's heavy, but sturdy. One that has big wide feet. Now this new one is taller, and lighter. Perfect. So when perched on top I'm about eight feet above the water line. As I stood there looking from side to side I noticed a guy walking up the beach, the first human I saw for the day. But as I turned right, I could feel the ladder go left, and I was done, and I knew it.
When I finally lost my balance and fell my one leg was stuck in the ladder. Now I was in a little better than two to three feet of water, but still panic sets in. My stripping basket was filled with water, my leg was stuck, my fly line was now wrapped around me, my sling pack was filling with water, and I didn't know where my phone was. From the beach I must have looked like a seal getting attacked by a great white shark in skinny water, or a panicked infant taking a bath in four inches of water. I then flailed around trying to get up, but I couldn't with the nine gallons of water in my stripping basket. Abe said he would have laid out $300 to have seen it go down. I was a mess out there.
When I did get up, with the ladder still on the bottom liked a sunken boat, I saw two big fish not too far away. I made the best cast I could, split the pair, and had a follow. And that's when the number of fish that came into view increased. It was an incoming tide thing.
The ladder was bent up a bit and once you stress an aluminum ladder it's always weak going forward. I should have checked the safety sticker on the side before I went with this lighter weight option. And I think the weight limit is about 150 pounds, and I'm no 150.
Things started to look good, and the numbers of fished increased as the flood tide filled in the pond. It was mostly all singles, a few pairs, and a threesome. I saw some from a distance, but most at the last minute, without a really good shot at them. During the afternoon session I had four shots, meaning four turns, two follows, and one inhalation that I probably pulled the fly out of his open mouth. I couldn't see where my fly was but that was an eat, and the miss was on me.
And with the tide came the wind and then the clouds. Above me was a cloud about four miles wide and 100 miles long which didn't move, and that kept me in the dark for like an hour. So any fish I did see was too late. And all during the cloud cover I was sloshing around in the water filled waders. I could feel my pants down around my knees with my underwear and socks soaked. It was time to call it a day. It was about 230. I was done, and I could feel the burn from the sun on my face and arms.
I walked back to the truck just keeping my eyes focused on the water. But in the end I tipped my hat and was thankful and grateful I was here. And just as was about to climb up to the
parking lot, like a mirage, Abe rolled in and held out a sandwich and a Gatorade. I split early yesterday morning before I could put something in my stomach, so needless to say I was water logged, burnt, starving, and dehydrated. But happy.
As I took off my gear I was interested to see if my toenails were still attached from being in the water logged waders for so long. While looking like raisins in a way, all of them were intact. I then went through my day with Abe who surmised that the reason I didn't hook up because my flies were too big.
I had started my day with a Calcevechia inspired mummichog fly, then went to a crab, before ending up with a Ray's Fly. I got looks on all of them but no commitments. By days end it I had seen 21 fish, in about six and a half hours. That not really good compared to years past, but at least there's a few out there.
In the evening we took a ride over to Mimi's house for dinner. I was able to visit The Shed again where Abe does his work. And sick work it is. His creative mind runs 24/7, and he's able to put that down on paper or into a three dimensional sculpture. While I was there I grabbed his
leaf blower to try and dry out the waders before today's hunt for big fish, or just one fish. I don't want to spend the day in wet waders, you know how they, and the wet socks, just chafe the hell out of your feet when you walk in them. So fingers crossed on that.
The view out to Noman's Land, three miles off the south side of the Vineyard, is fantastic. Sitting on the deck you feel like you're
above the canopy in a rain forest. If you're looking for a summer house on the island, luckily for you it's for sale, you can see the listing HERE on Zillow. Abe, the former chef, threw together a great dinner, but I was too tired to remember to take a pick. Kale from the garden, salmon on pita, and three of the best cuts off some poor cow's hind-quarters hit the spot with a pair of Guinness. But I was beat up, and I could feel the skin on face tightening up as the hours went on, and I was drifting off. It was a great first day, today I'll try and not make any errors, and go to a smaller fly.
And in exciting home front news..... While I am up here Theresa is holding down the fort and taking care of things as we get closer to closings. Yesterday was the dreaded septic inspection. I thought we were out of the woods after the home inspection but our town, Hopewell, only requires three things; a septic inspection, a well water test, and some smoke and CO detectors.
I didn't know what had to be done but Theresa said the guy had to dig through four feet of shale to inspect the system, and it all passed. Thank You Jesus. And the cost of making repairs or putting in a new one? Forget it. Our neighbor is in the works of selling her house, one that has an old school cesspool. That just sounds gross. Below is what a cesspool looks like and how it works.
In order to sell her house she has to have a septic system installed. The cost? $10,000 for the engineering and $75,000 for the install. If we had to do major repairs our whole deal, well deals, would collapse. And speaking of deals, it looks like all things are a go in South Carolina, on both places.
Above is the Shrimper's Shack that will be home for the boat, my stuff, and my sanity. When I tell you I'm ecstatic to be moving to Sun City with Theresa and spend the next chapter of our lives together in the Lowcountry....all true. But that huge boat port and the attached lovely clubhouse is pretty f'in exciting as well. I spoke with the Zoning Officer from the town yesterday just to make sure I'm all good taking this slice of heaven over, "We'll welcome you to the Town of Ridegland...." Yeah buddy. See you soon.