Singing the blues, singing for joy

I want to talk about the Derby, or more accurately, the amazing new Derby grand prize. But, we should probably talk about fishing first. Then again, the Derby prize is a Jeep Gladiator, which happens to be my favorite vehicle along with a classic Shelby Mustang (’64, ’65, ’68).

OK, I’m hitting pause on my Derby winning fantasies for a moment to talk about bluefish. Last week, we finally saw a few flashes of blue. Ironically, blues were reported on the same night that the Derby released the news of the Gladiator. But I digress.

Last Thursday night, phones were pinging with texts of decent-size bluefish, as in not a school of rat blues, busting in Vineyard Haven Harbor. I was at a beach picnic and missed the action. I did, however, fall asleep with a smile on my face, knowing that I would be driving to Eastville for sunrise in eight hours.

Friday morning, I popped a rod in the holder and drove over the drawbridge. I parked by the jetty and took a walk, casting every few feet. I couldn’t see anything breaking, didn’t feel a hit, and there wasn’t a boat motoring nearby. Then I spied movement across the water toward Owen Park. One small boat, then another glided toward the marina. I walked back to my truck and drove toward town.

Since I was the only vehicle on the road, I moved at a snail’s pace and continued to glance at the water for signs of breaking fish. Just as I reached the first pier, I saw boats working a school of fish. Bingo!

I parked the truck, jumped over the stone wall, and waded into the water. Problem: I was a good five casts away from the fish. I hung out for about 30 minutes, first hoping a ferry would push the fish toward me, then continued casting in case a big rogue blue swam by.

No such luck. I had a plan, however. Kayak fishing for the last three hours of daylight. I texted my friends Sal and Julie Tummino to see if they were having any luck on Chappy and to let them know I’d seen fish in Vineyard Haven. Julie replied that they’d been fishing all day and not even a nibble.

The wind had picked up in the afternoon, so kayaking was out. I thought about heading out to Chappy for sunset with Julie and Sal, but stopped into the grocery store, which led to multiple conversations with multiple people, and then it was 6:30 and felt too late to go to Chappy. “Big mistake. Big. Huge,” as Julia Roberts said in “Pretty Woman.”

A little after seven, Julie texted me a picture of Sal holding an eight-pound bluefish. I gave a shout and cheered Julie on to go catch one. For better or worse, Sal’s fish was the only one.

“It was weird. The water was calm and flat. It was dead high and almost dark,” said Sal. “I had on an Island X [lure] but went back to metal and a nice slow retrieve. Then I got that hit.”

“I was in the truck texting,” said Julie. “I looked up, and Sal had this look on his face. I knew he didn’t think he was going to catch anything, so he didn’t have any pliers or scale.”

“I turn around, and she’s running with the scale and the pliers,” said Sal.

That’s true love, in my book!

I chatted with Sal and Julie on Sunday. They had arrived on-Island on June 26. The next day, Sal caught a four-pound bluefish, which he weighed into the Martha’s Vineyard Surfcasters Association (MVSA) in-house derby. At that point, Sal’s blue was one of only three fish weighed in for the month of June. On June 30, Sal and Julie each caught a bluefish, 6.75 pounds and 5.3 pounds respectively, to become two of the four MVSA members to weigh in fish in June.

On July 1, Sal reeled in a little guy, only 3.65 pounds. But get this: For over three weeks, that little bluefish was the only one weighed in.

It’s now July 27 as I’m typing, and Sal has the only two fish on the board.

Around five, 10 years ago, I was on Chappy with Janet Messineo all the time, and it was a rare day we didn’t catch fish. Now it’s a rare day when we do catch fish. Where have the fish gone?

“Oh my gosh. We were there 30 days, fishing four to six hours a day easy,” said Sal. “I knew I was leaving, so I fished extra hard the last couple of days. Not even a bump. The last four days, we haven’t even seen anyone catch a shark. Lots of people casting, but nothing.

“I threw top water. I threw metal. I was jigging. I couldn’t catch a fish for 30 days,” he said.

“I got one sea robin in 20 days,” said Julie. “We tried every beach out there. We used to be able to catch a bluefish during the day, then get a striper at night. Not anymore.”

As we stand on Chappy and look out at the horizon, we see one telltale difference: hundreds of wind turbines.

“I believe the windmills have a lot to do with it. They’re setting up an artificial reef,” said Julie. “It’s scary, and I don’t know what to think about it.”

“There’s no bait in the water,” added Sal. “We never saw bunker. We saw silversides way up, but we’re just not seeing any bait. And there are so many sharks combing the water.”

None of us know the answer, but we’re all concerned with the declining numbers of fish over the last few years.

All right, I’m done singing the blues. I’m now gonna spend a hot minute singing for joy.

Have you seen the pictures of the new Derby grand prize? Repeat after me: Customized 2026 Jeep Gladiator Mojave X wrapped in an exclusive “Vineyard Slam” camo.

I don’t even know how to speak those words without grinning from ear to ear. I don’t want to contain my joy. I want to shout out a huge thank-you to brothers Shep and Ian Murray of Vineyard Vines, who for decades donated our awesome Derby hats, and now have sponsored the best grand prize ever!

I can’t wait to see this truck in person! Shep and Ian, this is fin-tastic! Thank you! 

As I type, there are 47 days, 3 hours, 40 minutes, and 22 seconds until the start of the Derby. Each second is one closer to the moment we can start casting to win the Gladiator. I’m not wishing away summer, no never, just stating a truth about a point in time as constant as the northern star.

I hope to see you on the beach, and I hope we’re singing for joy.