08.23.23 Got one on the way home....

     Well fall is coming quick. In like a blink of an eye the summer is over. I don't know what it is about getting older and time, but it does just fly by. Speaking of flies yesterday on the way home from work I 

stopped and made some casts into the river. The river is up from normal and temps in the mid to low 70's. I got one bite and landed a small smallmouth. It worked for me. But back to work for a second. It's the fall and that means it's a fresh class of students entering the RN program. Over 55 in this cohort, that's a lot of kids. That's all just a reminder that the fall is here. Last week I got a pic last years graduates sent over to the staff. 

     It's them posing with their new work ID's during the new hire orientation. They graduated in May. Soon took the NCLEX licensing exam. Found a job and started working as Registered Nurses. I am honored and proud to have been just a slice of the pie of the fantastic staff at Essex County College that helped them fulfill their dreams. And now this year we'll have a graduating class and then this bunch will be good to go in 2025. 

     So back to fishing, kind of. I had put my pick up truck bed cap on Facebook Marketplace. A few years back Theresa and I found it and made the drive down to Pleasantville (next to AC) and purchased it. Well, the buyer drove from the next town over from to buy it from me. They were a nice young couple who rolled in to what I thought was my sister truck. His was a 2006 (two years older) Chevy 2500 Silverado, a diesel, that he just drove down and bought, like the same time we were there, in Hilton Head. He said he would never buy a northern truck again due to the weather, salt, and rust. His truck is sweet and clean. 140,000 miles, on a diesel, is nothing and for 19,000 a steal. 

     The hundred the cap bought in will go to good use. I took that cash and the coin cash and went and saw my man Andrew over at Orvis. I exchanged that for a $200 gift card that will go to the purchase of the Orvis PRO bootfoot waders I have my eyes on. I'm almost there and anticipate ordering them up in the next few weeks. There's no better feeling than buying stuff with gift cards collected over time. I just feel like I'm not "spending" our real money. I know that's incorrect, but it's how I justify things. 

     So I've been involved with Orvis for about 10 years. Being friends with Andrew and Rob, from Orvis in New Jersey and Manhattan, I was able to attend and then present seminars at their stores. Here in New Jersey we are down to one Orvis store, and that is in Princeton. Since Andrew became store 

manger a few months ago he and fishing manager Bruce have worked hard to increase the amount of activities they offer at the shop. It's more than just a store. Above is a partial lineup of things to come. We talked about doing a saltwater/striped bass seminar and outing this fall. If you go let them know you saw it here. And if you need any advice or gear give them a shot, they are straight shooters and honest. 

     And then there's my tractor. The story of the tractor has been on these pages before. A month or so ago I trucked it to PA to a sweetheart of a guy who absolutely loves working on these tractors. So a few weeks later Theresa and I went and picked it up. Below is the test ride at his house.

     After I got it hopme and taking about 4 hours to figure out how to install the mower deck and belts I was off to the races and mowed my yard, which had got away from me between all of the rain and the week in Hilton Head. Are you wondering why the lead pick is it behind my pickup? 

     I'm not sure if it's good when the spark plug blows out of the top of the engine while you are mowing with it, but it happened. Luckily I didn't have the hood on or else it would surely have a big ding in it when this thing took off. The only thing that held the spark plug from entering the atmosphere was the threads from the block. I don't know how to proceed further with this thing, it might be time to put it up for sale and get it in the hands of someone who loves these things. 

     

08.20.23 Made some casts into the Long Island Sound.....

     On Saturday Theresa and I got an invite to head out to meet our friends for an overnight camp on Short Beach in Smithtown, Long Island. I'm not too well in the know about Long Island but I do know it's long, there's a lot of traffic, and it takes hours, sometimes it feels like days to get out there. I've trailered my boat out to Montauk so I know the pain of trying to get to "The End" in traffic. 

     Short Beach looks like it's about halfway from Manhattan to Montauk. I might be incorrect with that but that works for me. I've never fished the Long Island Sound but I can say after this weekend I at least made some casts into it's waters. It took just under four hours to get there mid-Saturday and the weather

was beautiful. A light wind kept the bugs away and "camp" was all set up by the time we got out there. Their town has this beach camping event once a summer so luckily the weather was perfect for a good night. Neil and Kathy and their family and friends did a great job with the food and drinks that kept us

busy, and full, from late afternoon till we left Sunday around noon.

     During a break in the hang I grabbed my basket and rod, and goofy river shoes that I got down in Hilton Head, and headed towards a boulder field on the dropping tide. I saw some birds way out 

working over bait that was getting harassed. It could have been blues or bass. I couldn't help but think I was Martha's Vineyard, like Menemsha, because it was a right turn from the parking lot. It looked like a 

super fishy place because due west just a bit the Nissequogue River empties into the Sound. On a dropping tide, a 7 foot tide, the bait must run out of the river and into that boulder field, where I know bass must lie in wait. It looks like a perfect topwater spot, either big plugs, or fly-rod poppers that will just get annihilated by big bass. 

 

     This morning the water was calm and quiet. There was no need to fish. Instead Kathy, Theresa and I took a ride around Smithtown and it's many villages and hamlets in the search for coffee. When we got 

back Kathy put together a nice camp breakfast after a delivery of fresh bagels from her daughter and son-in-law. Theresa has known these two lovebirds since the early 1970's when they were growing up in Baldwin which is about 45 minutes from the beach we were on. They have a real hoot when they are together. It's kind of a like a full circle of life. Fond memories and a ton of laughs reliving their childhoods. I mostly sit and take it all in, but really enjoy watching Theresa light up when she's around them. 

     On the way home on the BQE I spotted a smoke condition in the distance just before noon and by the time we got to Williamsburg, Brooklyn a raging five-alarm fire was at it's peak. It was a row of stores, or as we call them in the business of fire, a taxpayer. You never know what you're going to find when you go out and enjoy and explore life. For the FDNY it's just another day at the office. 

08.17.23 On Ryan's would be 27th it's time to let something go....

 

     Today would be, well is, his 27th birthday. Only thing is he's not down here to celebrate it. I hope he's having a hoot with the rest of the people up in heaven. Like I had said the other day I usually start his birthday morning at first light on Ryan's Rock on Phillips Avenue in Deal. Since I had a magical morning there a few days ago I decided to break tradition and do something else. 

     But first about Ryan. Born August 18, 1996. Died September 23, 2017. There was so much good life and good times in between those two dates. He was fantastic. PIA sometimes but just a gem. I can honestly say that about all the kids. All good in their own right and continuing to grow and mature in fine adults. I do wish I could have seen where Ryan ended up, "Oh the places you can, could have, go....."

     So my plan today was to get going on Ryan's car. The old Vue. It's a car that has been around since 2003 when Jim Dowman and my ex-wife Cindy purchased it. It was a fine car and has served so many people in the family well. Jim ran in until he died, then Cindy had it, then I had it, and then Ryan had until he died. Truth be told, if I went through with what I had planned I am sure I would have died also. My early plan was to "restore" it and pass it along to Erin as her first car....thank God that didn't happen.

 

      I can't find the pictures but Erin and I did put a ton of work into this car. After Ryan died I had to drive down to Glassboro near Rowan where Ryan was living. He had been in an accident. The trans was shot. It looked like hell. So what I did was find the same exact car in Philly and purchased it and transferred all of the body parts over to the original Vue. Well I didn't do it but an auto shop did. I had a rebuilt manual trans put in and we were off to the races. Money was no object because "It was Ryan's car". Theresa, since Ryan passed, has been a voice of reason, it just felt on deaf ears. Old. Putting in to much money. You don't use it. Erin can't drive it and doesn't want it. And the monthly insurance premiums. I heard it, but, "It was Ryan's car". 

     So today was my day to get working on the Vue. It doesn't start, just needs a battery. It could use an oil change and I could do that. I had bought spark plugs a few years back and never put them in because you kind of have to take apart half the engine to switch them out. Well, today would be that day. I would be into the project for a couple hundred dollars, hey, "It's Ryan's car". Before I hit Auto Zone I took a look under the car......

       I know cars that sit, well, car that just sit don't do well. I was shocked, but I guess not surprised, that the entire bottom of the car was rusted, and in some parts rusted out. It looked the gas tank was just about ready to fall out. The rockers were rusted through, like if I sat down hard in the drivers seat the car would just fold, or at least the doors would be unable to close.....

     That's it. It's time. And so I just pulled out my phone dialed Carsforcash.com and did the input of information and got an offer. $254.00. It was time. I saw the light. Ryan gave me the nod. I'm good. I don't know why I felt so the need to hold onto his car. In grief, who know why we do and feel the things we do. The funny thing is Ryan wasn't a Vue guy, or a car guy, outside of very expensive cars like Rolls

Royce or Corvettes. Maybe it was the memory and the meaning the car had to Jim Dowman, and Cindy, and my daughter Juliet, who's biological Dad was the Jim Dowman. Maybe I felt like I was left holding the cards, well car, and had an obligation to see it live forever. 

      So I'm sure Ryan is looking down and watching this unfold. He, and Jim, have watched that car sit for six years. Every now and then it got a jump and took a ride, either fishing or to work, but mostly just sitting there settling and rusting away. It's time to move on. Time to give it a slap on the trunk and watch it go away. Looks like they'll be picking it up Wednesday the 23rd between 8 am -12 pm. 

08.16.23 Happy Birthday Ryan, a few days early....

     It's been a thing I do every August 18th since Ryan passed in 2017. I make sure I make my way down to Ryan's Rock on the Phillips Ave groin and spend some time. This morning I had to be down in Monmouth County so I went fishing. I had planned on coming back Friday, which is the 18th, but today would do. It's funny how routines and rituals arise after someone's death, or a day of remembrance after either a tragedy or joyous occasion. I don't know if they do more good or bad. 

     Of course it deluged last night. It's a new weather system that we in the Northeast are now accustomed to, at least for this year. Rain. Lots of it. All in short order. As I made my way down 195 the rain and weather wasn't too far behind. When I got to the ocean it was clear but soon grew dark. I had put on my rain jacket anticipating the rain that never came. I can say, after an hour I was soaked to my drawers because the dew-point was 75. It was humid to say the least. 

     I found two groins occupied by anglers so I made my way to the third and made casts up and down the beach without a tap. If you look at the above pic you can see an all to familiar landscape. Plenty of shoaling on the south side with water and maybe a deeper spot here and there on the north side that makes it's way up the beach. The problem with this pattern is you just lose any structure and finding a 

good trough is hard to come by. That's why anglers work the rocks because exiting water at least creates some structure and current. But for me I couldn't find a fish. 

     I was on Brighton and though on calling it a morning figuring I'd be back on Friday. Besides, Ryan and his Rock haven't been kind to me in the last six years. Maybe I caught one small bass perched on his rock, if that. But I was here, I had some time, so I made the walk to Phillips. 

     When I got to his rock clouds were covering the sun. I made some casts just waiting for him to finally give up a fish, it's like an ongoing joke that we have. Then I put on the song that reminds me so much of him, Blackbird, performed by Paul McCartney. As soon as the song started to play I could 

could feel an intense warmth from the sun on my face. It was well, like a sign. I know that stuff can be hokey but you know what I felt it, and needed it also. It brought me great joy and a feeling like I didn't need to come back on Friday. I was good. So of course not a bite and I turned and chalked it up to 

another skunk on his rock. I know, one morning, I'll catch that all out blitz of striped bass chasing bait and that too will be good. 

     Before I left I made my way to some different rocks and had a fluke torpedo out between the rocks for one of my flies but I didn't react quick enough. In a span of 10 minutes I landed two other fluke.

      So today was a good day. I spent some time if you will with Ryan. Caught up with Sean at Rook at the Little Silver train station. Grabbed Erin and went to Bed-Stuy to see Juliet and finished up the day with Lauren when she dropped by for a visit. Tomorrow it's a dinner date with Lauren and Brandon and then Thursday the same with Patrick and Infiniti. The only one I won't see is Tara down in Texas but I will reach out to catch up in the next few days. 

     There's something beautiful seeing your kids grow into adults and run their own lives, but there's sometimes sad about it also. I realize any time spent with them is a blessing, in person, or in memory. 

08.14.23 Someone found the bass...

      Saw this report from a charter boat thyat runs out of Raritan Bay. The bass must still be around and chewing on bunker. Not sure if they're making bait with adult or peanut bunker but it seems to be the bait of choice. Striped bass do summer over in the deeper channels that run the New York Bight. While they might be up on top it reads like send a bunker down and reel a striper up. All overs to boot. 

    While the angler above is happy with his catch in an undisclosed location the bass's wound is a little upsetting. It looks like it came from a bang stick, or maybe even a gaff, but I am not assuming anything. There are cormorants and other birds that dive for bait, maybe not in 30-50 feet of water, but hey you never know. The ASMFC is managing, or claiming they are managing, striped bass stocks to reduce F, which stands for mortality. The emergency action reducing the slot size to 28-32" hopefully protects the 2015 year class of fish, the last good recruitment year. All of this is being done, or talking about getting it done, to rebuild the striped bass by the target year 2029. 

Keep em' wet, or as wet as you can please.

08.13.23 Kind of like a fall shakedown trip....

     I know it's only the second week of August. You still may even have your family vacation still to come before school starts up again. But this summer has been a weird one. Last night it was 66 degrees out here. The early mornings feel like fall. It was time for a late summer/ way-to-early fall trip. To be there for first light means I have to be up and out of the house by 330. I WaWa coffee on my way east and then stopped to check and see how the nursery was looking. Lot's of silversides, rainbait and peanut bunker all doing their thing. Ebbing and flowing with the tide, putting on some mass, and trying to not get eaten by the predators, which come from overhead, along the surface, and from underneath. 

     Conditions looked good. Cool air temps and maybe a tad too cool water temps for the fluke, Spanish, and maybe albies. There must have been some days of a south wind that upwelled the surf. Even 

though it was only an hour on the ebb tide there wasn't a ton of water, or structure, along the beach. The groins were like staircases, especially on the south sides, where shoaling had occurred all summer due to the south wind and littoral currents (south to north). 

     I started with a popper and had one bass, that I saw, jump it on the top of the wave. Between the wave and slack in the line I didn't have a shot at the hook set. As I was trying to air out the casts I kept trying to figure out what was wrong. This line, I don't know who made it, had more memory than an elephant. I had stretched it out, had even put it in hot water, but it's like trying to cast a giant zip-tie. 

     While I was back at the truck switching lines and baits Leif was down at water's edge unhooking a fluke that took a crab fly and spit up a rain fish. With the sun up the terms started to concentrate in front

of us picking at bait. I didn't see any swirls or blow-ups but Leif said he saw some small snapper bluefish running through bait for a hot minute. I went with the crab/baitfish combo and only had what I think was a small fluke hit it. I was a good morning. Got it out of the way. Now I can wait. 

     But on the way home I stopped at another fishy looking spot. The crabs were up and out of the water either sunning themselves, working on hardening their shells, or anticipating another molt coming soon. But what caught my eye were the eels. There were three that were coming out of this small 

outflow pipe and running past the crabs. Then there were singles that swam out, then another. I thought, oh my, can you just imagine the right time and the right tide? Bass just lying in wait waiting to exhale. Like, you know, at night.....

     So I went back late Friday evening for the drop. Not the same place with the eels but another fsihy spot. Tons of kelp, or whatever it is. Every cast, especially since I chucked that zip-tie intermediate line earlier in the day. I saw bait, but not like crazy bait. A few blowups at almost dead low tide out in the deeper water. It was all bad. They say, "Go make reports and don't wait for reports". You don't know if 

if you don't go. It wasn't all bad. Last fall, in the parking spot, I found a pair of Sanuk's that someone had left, like right where the drivers door would have been. So I placed them on the fence for them to find them when they came back. That was last fall. So all through the winter, spring, and summer, in rain, some snow, and heat, they stood, waiting for me to come back. I now am sporting a size 11 pair of Sanuk's.