I barely even observed the visitors resulting in the George Washington Bridge as I crawled down I-95 with a truck filled with surf gear and a head filled with striper goals. The GPS estimated my arrival—accounting for the gridlock—at TAK Waterman Surf n Fish at a gentlemanly 10:30 a.m. That might give me loads of time to trace down the chew that had set the striper-fishing group abuzz during the last 4 days.
The waters off Monmouth County had develop into a veritable soup of menhaden, from 6-inch “walnuts” to full-fledged adults up 14 inches in size. A passing college of southbound stripers had taken discover, and the anglers there to witness this collision of bass and bait known as it a blitz for the ages.
The time period “blitz” was coined by certainly one of surfcasting’s biggest scribes, Frank Woolner, who served as a navy correspondent throughout World Conflict II, and tailored a few of that vernacular to his writing about fishing. He completely defines a striper blitz in The Full Guide of Striped Bass Fishing, which he co-authored with Hal Lyman in 1954.
“In surf casting jargon, a ‘blitz’ is outlined as a interval of magnificent striper fishing—a half-hour, an hour, or perhaps a entire tide wherein bass compete with one another for the doubtful honor of smashing at pure or synthetic baits tossed into the hissing brine. This occurs when the advanced chemistry of marine life and the weather is fortunately combined, subtly blended, and served up in a single grand riot of teeming bait, screaming birds, and frantically feeding fish.”
The earlier afternoon, whereas gathering intel on the blitz, I talked with TAK co-founder Mike Gleason, who’d caught a number of 30-pound fish throughout a quick lunch break from the store. With an ocean filled with fish and 36 hours to do nothing however forged on the water’s edge, how may I miss?
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A autopsy of the journey would cite a constructing south wind, a warming development, and the folks knowledge that “they only can’t eat on a regular basis” as the explanation the blitz abruptly ended. On my journey again to Massachusetts, after scratching up solely a pair schoolies, I used to be aware of the visitors, grinding my enamel and leaning on the horn whereas I attempted to banish the journey from my thoughts—particularly the final ditch effort.
I’d been leaning over the boardwalk in Lengthy Department, watching a college of bunker transfer about, unbothered by predators, when one other fishermen approached to commiserate over the gradual fishing. I discussed that I’d pushed six hours simply to re-learn certainly one of fishing’s oldest maxims, “I shoulda been there yesterday,” and the opposite angler supplied some recommendation.
“Earlier than you go,” he suggested, you would possibly wish to try Lot G on Sandy Hook. Typically there’s motion on the market when in every single place else is gradual.”
When you’ve spent any time fishing Sandy Hook, you then already know the place that is going. A six-mile lengthy sand spit forming the barrier between Atlantic Highlands and the ocean, Sandy Hook is rife with bars, bowls, and rips, which refill, at numerous components of the season, with stripers, fluke, and albies. It’s additionally house to the biggest nude seashore within the Northeast, proper at Lot G.
All I caught that day was an eyeful of naturalists tanning their nether-regions within the late-October sunshine. It was a potent reminder of the risks of chasing after so-called legendary blitzes, unsubstantiated stories, and unsolicited recommendation—a reminder I’ll certainly overlook subsequent time the surfcasting rumor mill churns out one thing I merely can’t ignore.
If we surf fishermen are nothing else, we’re optimists, with our glass-half-full mentalities driving each forged into Woolner’s “hissing brine.” That high quality might set us on a wild goose chase every now and then, however ultimately, laying naked (pun supposed) our largest misses makes for higher tales than boasting about our biggest hits—regardless that that gained’t but be evident when you’re caught in visitors in Fort Lee.
Watch a Video of the Journey Beneath
