I’d done some fishing this spring. I’d caught fish, even landed my first red drum, or red fish, on a quick two-day trip to the Chesapeake. But when Dave Balon suggested he was gonna take a couple of days off to fish, I was sorting my gear before we finished our phone call.
Dave and I strategized all week. We really wanted to be on Chappy. The weather looked decent, and we’d be fishing a falling tide until around 3, then have 30 to 45 minutes to fish the change until we had to head out for meetings. Yes, evening meetings that were, somehow, slightly more important than fishing in May.
Fishing reports were hit or miss: hits for bass, and lots of misses for bluefish. We planned Thursday on Chappy for blues, Friday sunrise in the kayaks for bass; Friday afternoon and Saturday were more Chappy time for whatever swam our way.
Driving onto the Chappy Ferry is one of life’s special gifts. It’s the moment you know you’re only a few minutes from the beach, from toes in the sand, from lines in the water, and maybe, just maybe, from a tug on the line.
It’s not all about the tug. Most fishermen I know enjoy time on the water simply because it’s time outside, time with friends, time on the beach, time on the boat, time with family, time soaking up the sunshine after a very long winter. Simply put, time on the water is time well spent.
At the end of the day, if there hasn’t been a tug on the line, it’s still been a great day. At the end of the day, if I’ve felt the tug, listened to my line peel, finessed a fish to shore, released it or put one in the cooler, a great day has become a fin-tastic day.
My teammate Dave has the most organized fishing truck in the history of fishing vehicles. We had everything we needed in that truck. Dave had opted not to bring the big fish cooler, and we still had everything we needed.
Hours of casting and chatting with friends, and not so much as a hit. Time didn’t wait for the fish to arrive, and before we knew it, we had to leave the beach. Ralph Peckham pulled up just as we were gearing down. Ralph is a bluefish magnet, but even he hadn’t hooked one yet.
As Ralph walked toward the water, I looked at Dave and, with a mix of awe and envy, said, “As soon as we leave, he’s going to land the first blue for the MVSA board.” Sometimes I hate being right.
We hadn’t even made it to the Chappy Ferry before Dave’s phone pinged with a text from Ralph. A photo of Ralph with a 6.63-pound bluefish. While Ralph didn’t land the first bluefish of the season — that credit goes to our friend Joseph, who didn’t have a scale with him — he did weigh in the first and only May bluefish for the MVSA In-House Derby. Congratulations, Ralph!
Our plans for kayaking Friday morning changed the minute my buddy Capt. Ed Smith texted and said he was putting Tenacious in the water for the first time on Friday and asked if we wanted to go out. Hello? Forget the kayaks.
We met Capt. Ed, Donnie Benefit, and our friend Anna McLaughlin, who’s going to spend the summer as the first mate aboard Tenacious, at the slip in Edgartown.
We motored out, took a ride over toward Oak Bluffs, didn’t see any big fish, then doubled back and cruised toward Wasque and the breach. The day was near perfect for May, and plenty of boats were on the water near us.
Dave and Anna put the first lines in the water. Within minutes, Dave was on. We all cheered and shouted “Dave on!” or the shortened version, “Davon.” Not only did Dave have a fish on the line, but he was using a lure that he’d reeled in last fall. Capt. Ed had saved it, put new hooks on, and put two words on the lure: “DAVE ON.” You better believe Dave will be using that lure this fall during the Derby.
Dave’s black sea bass lived to see another day, and it was my turn on the rod. I let the line out, watching colors unspool until I saw the second flash of dark pink, my fingers itching to feel the slam of fish hitting the plug.
We saw people hooking up around us. My turn was coming. It was going to happen. Bam!
Adrenaline shot through my veins. The fish tugged. I reeled. I got him to the boat, and the striper was a keeper. No one, and I do mean no one on the boat, said they wanted a fish for dinner. Dave took a couple of quick pictures, and we released him.
Capt. Ed maneuvered the boat back around to the same location I hooked up. When Anna’s fish hit, her rod bent over like a gymnast doing backflips. We knew she had a decent fish. She brought the fish in like a pro. Her striper was over 37 inches and went back into the ocean.
Suddenly, Capt. Ed starts in on not having anything for dinner. Mumbling something about having to eat hot dogs since Anna’s fish was too big and I released my keeper.
We saw lots of other folks reeling in stripers. It wasn’t nonstop fish, but the bass were there. We never saw a bluefish, but those stripers were gorgeous. It was a fintastic morning!
I’ll never hear the end of the hot dogs. You can probably guess what I’m bringing on the boat next time!
I’m gearing up my truck to be back out on Chappy this weekend, and I’m hoping to snag some squid and live-line for bass one night this week. Anyone out there finding bluefish?
I hope to see you on the beach, and I hope no one is eating hot dogs for dinner that night.