FishTales 2011: The Bel Canto Bass Blitz; From Montauk to the Met

24 HOURS OF HIT-AND-RUN SURFCASTING AS THE FALL STRIPER RUN FINALLY GETS UNDERWAY

My definition of a good day:

730am: Keeper stripers in a North Bar bass blitz in Montauk. 

730pm: Curtain up on Anna Netrebko singing lead soprano in a Donizetti classic at Lincoln Center's Metropolitan Opera.

Reacting to a fish call from Big Brother Frank, reporting that Montauk finally lit up with striped bass and blues reachable from shore, I hustled out east for a mid-week lightening round of surf-fishing with Tenacious Billy S., who is rapidly showing signs as the equal of any degenerate, eh, I mean “dedicated”, surfcasting rat. The historically productive “Rosh Hoshanah Blitz”, highly anticipated the weekend before, was a virtual non-event, except for the most diligent anglers like Charlie R., the Mickey Mantle of southshore surfcasters, who scored some bluefish and a healthy schoolie bass for his table from Montauk’s north side. 

BRUNCH TIME KEEPER IN THE COOLER

Frank put a brunch-time keeper in his cooler at Jones Reef on Wednesday, so Billy and I were quick to join him for the tail end of the afternoon feed. We didn’t fare quite as successfully, but did manage two good-sized bluefish from Turtle Cove at sundown. Even though our boots were in the water at 445pm, we were a tad late for a tea-time north side blitz that produced child-size bass on the beach from a picket-fence line of surfcasters stretching from Scott’s Cove near the lighthouse to Clark’s Cove to the west.  Reports also confirmed that “all big fish” were caught at the Stepping Stones, Oyster Pond Cove, and Shagwong,further west.

Highly encouraged by the amount of fish caught, their size and the stiff NNW wind that promised to keep pushing the tiny rain bait and feeding bass into our faces, we returned to the scene of the crime at first light.  Billy and I had afternoon obligations so we knew ours was a hit and run proposition: get them early, or go home skunked.

SUNRISE BLITZ AT THE NORTH BAR

Our truck reached the North Bar as the sun broke the horizon over our right shoulders, revealing squawking, diving birds that told the tale: major striper blitz.  Billy threw a shorty Hopkins, I threw a white and red Polaris popper, Frank threw a blue swimmer. Everything–and everyone–caught fish.

All the hits were dramatic, top water explosions. My lure got slammed within a single crank of the reel, accompanied by a vicious tail slap. The feel of the previous night’s fighting-dog bluefish was still fresh, so I knew immediately from the difference that I was on a muscular keeper bass. It was combat fishing conditions, with hard running water, wind-blown fish lines and anglers stacked on top of each other. There was no chance to savor the fight. I horsed my 31-inch fatty onto the beach and extracted the lure that the fish inhaled half way down its throat.

Billy had already deposited his 29-inch bass in the cooler and was now fast on a short.  Frank had one throwback schoolie and then the action died as quickly as it started.  The fish moved offshore to the west.  A quick look at the south side revealed another blitz in the making at Brown’s rock beyond Turtle Cove.  But it was time for Billy and me to hit the road.

MEMORIES OF MAYHEM

Later that evening at the Met, Anna Netrebko trilled her final high C’s before the executionser axed off her pretty head. Then A-Rod whiffed at a 3rd strike in the Bronx, sending the Yankees to defeat in game 5 of the American League’s first round championship playoffs. Meanwhile, I was still grinning with memories of the morning’s mayhem in Montauk–and looking forward to the Columbus Weekend prospects for the lesser known, but up-and-coming, “Yom Kippur Blitz of 2011”.