SURFRATS.COM ARTICLE SECTION

Chasing Fish
By: Paul Melnyk
Oct 16th, 2007

Chasing fish

Sooner or later we will be into the big schools. I guarantee it… When these fish do show up, how should you fish them?

There are those who will sit in the weed bowl all day and wait for that boil to get 100 feet closer… Waiting is the key to this technique. Daydreaming is the key to sippin’ schnapps, B.S-ing and getting skunked. All to often the fish will stay that golden distance, leaving there lips for the fly boats and wet-suiters. As for me, there is nothing like having bass surround your rock, splashin’ and thrashin’! We of the wet-suit ilk just love to drop one bass after another back into the surf, as the Budweiser crew long for a single rat to swim for the beach. If you sit, watching and waiting for the fish, I think you will be disappointed.

The method system is more productive. Set a plan of attack and follow it. You should be aware of the eddies and tides that hold the fish at certain locals around your favorite holes. I will usually pick a day where I can get the meat of a tide at sunrise and sunset. These are the days when you will see me spend an afternoon at the weed bowl with the sleepers and gossip hounds.

Hunting is the factor that differentiates those that are successful from the Googans. Finding and stalking big fish is what has kept me at this sport for thirty years. The trick is knowledge and information. Plan a reconnaissance session. Bring your field glass. A good bet in Montauk is to hit the fort cliffs and spy. You will have a view, miles down the beach. When the bite is on, the fish could pop up anywhere.

OK, here are some maxims: The Wong- the drop. North Bar- drop, Jones’- drop or flood. Point- drop. Turtle- drop, Sewer pipe- drop. The Fort, Kings, Caswells- either way. Enough for now. (by the way, I know where the fish are all the time- send me $100 and you will know too). [You will find the dough in your wife’s purse, right next to her physical trainer’s telephone number].

Chasing birds can be fun! The splash of gannets can make a surfcaster swoon…. I have had great success chasing those sandy clouds of churning beaks and feathers. The trick is to realize that they will be moving down tide. A good truck will be needed, as you will never get to the birds if you try to walk or run for them.

Sand beaches on the south side will hold fish for a week or so in the fall. The locals love this fishing, and may be seen digging great furrows into the beach, burning gas by the tank-full, while jumping and bumping. I have had many days of 100+ fish on the sand leaving my arms aching and tired. It is not rare to be able to stick with a school of fish for miles and hours. These are the days when nothing will get done in Montauk. The whole freakin’ town has gone fishin’!

The sand blitz of 2000 was one such time. It started with a wedding at Gurney’s Inn. All the sharpies were stationed to give the bride a good send-off. (We all know that weddings are for women. We go along with it to have someone to clean the fish…).

As the party progressed, a rumor spread that there were big bass right there in front of the Restaurant!

Real fishermen never go near the water without a rod. As was to be expected, the bass- horny crew caught wind of the bait and split for the surf, leaving the bride to think hard about her new life. I heard that many cows were landed that afternoon. Heck, this eventful wedding day even made a great article in “The Fisherman”!

A day later the big fish were back and all present had a crack at a slob. A young lady in her early teens took a 40 pounder that day. Her photograph was on the cover of “The Fisherman” soon after. I remember a 50 pound Blue fin tuna was taken from the surf by a hapless teenager. It made the newspaper, which cost the poor kid a $500.00 fine from the D.E.C. Fishin’ without a permit, don’t you know…

Dennis and I were there on the third day. This will forever stick in my mind as the day of the weakies. The morning started off with a bang as I fought a case of the trots. [I gotta stop puttin’ those eels in my mouth….] I squatted on Robert DeNiro’s back lawn, with steam emanating from behind as I watched Denny start to hall in fish.

“Hey! It’s no time for a dump! Get ova heea! I’m into weakies!” Denny howled.

Well, the thought of weakfish cured me quick. Jigged bucktails brought us ten to fifteen pound weakfish. A regular pick.

I love the way a weakfish will fight! That ratta-tap-tap on the jig is my signal to excitement! Weakfish, also known as Atlantic Sea Trout, are named for their weak mouths. If you put any sort of pressure on the fish, you will end up with a piece of lip on the end of your hook.

We limited out on the school and then took to bothering the natives. This was the season of the whistles. Some of the Locals decided to fish with a police whistle attached to their mugs. Of course, I was the instigator of this trend, which evolved from my skishing paraphernalia and my desire to promote harmony among my brethren.

A whistle can be very expressive, as Harpo Marx illustrated in 1932. I can remember when we came upon Percy Heath that afternoon. Dennis on one side, and I, on the other. We whistled and chirped and chortled at each other, never saying a word. As we would retrieve the line, we would warble like a sick teapot. A hook-up would be followed by great bleats! Percy threw his hands up and swore in disgust! He stormed away, muttering under his breath and left a great cloud of dust as he sped away in his truck…. Great fun!

Ahh! The fall air! Ahh, sun, sand and fellowship of the kindred spirits!



(c)Paul Melnyk 2007, written exclusively for Surfrats.com

Back to Surfrats.com or Striper Message Forum