December 15, 2020 – Double Double on the Way to a Solo (?) Double Digit Day – Ocean County Beaches

Sunrise and many shorties.

As much as I have fished the surf this fall, I had yet to fish it alone, and think I needed a solo trip today, as I was wide awake at 2:30 AM thinking I should check the conditions online.  The wind and surf looked too good to pass up, especially since the beaches will likely take a beating from a Nor’easter on Wednesday into Thursday—and that may send the fish packing too.  I have a couple spots that are usually productive and have been for several years, and I had not fished them at all this fall.  They are both cuts and sometimes rips that form where there used to be rocks before, you know, the replenishment.  Whether the fish are up on the bars marauding or hanging in and out of the cut, I can usually find something there at the right time of the tide, day, run—I even catch fluke at one of them in the summer because the surf pounds up some clams on a rough day.  Once a season, one of these spots typically delivers a silly one for me, usually on a cold December morning with a W or NW wind.  Granted, the fish used to be 26 to 33 inches, and now they are 18 to 25, but I landed 26 short bass today in three and a half hours with two doubles and one or two dropped fish as well.

Double double.

I used to bring my dad here a couple times each fall because I knew he could catch a mess of shorts on the right day.  He actually passed away last year before the fall run got going, so he didn’t get to take part in a good day I had last year with Dolf, Jeff, and Pete at one of these cuts, but I think he came along and helped me out today.  Having just waxed poetic about how exhausting crowds and spot burning can be, I had the beach to myself today.  I literally could see one buggy a half a mile to the north and three walk-ons fishing bait a half mile to the south.  I caught fish until I got tired, but I probably could have kept picking away once the tide dropped even more and gave me access to deep water again.  I remember two mornings when I was surf sick years ago where I quit at 50 fish, greedy for that tug, especially on a plug.  Working on 3 hours of sleep today, no water or food with me, and eventually a sore shoulder, I kept saying I would quit today at 10, then 15, then 20, then 25.  I did not have 30 in me, and the odds of catching anything larger were slim, so the older wiser me called a soft quit around 9:30 AM—I did prospect some whitewater a couple times on the walk back, of course, so it was definitely a longer late fall morning than normal.  I was working hard hauling in fish from a distance on my little Bomber/SP rod, a Ron Arra 1083, which is my schoolie/rat rod.  Before I knew this was going to last more than the usual hour, I was working even harder to get them in quickly, and I only took pics if they ate something new or showed up in pairs.  I left the only slightly beefier big brother, the 1084, in the car when I saw flat seas and a shore break from the dunes when I arrived and snuck a pre-game piss a few minutes before false dawn.  This light rod and I had to work hard and toss a 2 ounce T-Hex for most of the morning. 

The teaser and the Mag Minnow

I did get a few on a Mag Minnow, but only one of them was part of that 24-25 inch year class; the others were the 18 inchers.  Even at high tide, the slightly better ones, and both doubles that I had to drag in, of course, were at the end of long casts, so the metal fit the bill.  The clouser teaser had not been getting any love this year until today, but if I include the doubles I would say close to a fourth took the fly today.  I did not even throw a plastic eel because the T-Hex was getting eaten so regularly.  I tossed the Mag to give the arms a break or because I saw signs of fish in close—it’s a quiet blitz, the sandeel blitz, but there are signs of breaking fish sometimes.  I had one 18 inch bass leap like a smallmouth after he was hooked, so that was fun and rare for me.  I kept quiet about my success until my 17^th and 18^th fish came on a double.  Then I had to text Jeff and Dolf, and resist the urge to text Pete, who has not been able to fish as much this fall.  Little did I know that 22 and 23 would also be a double, and that was too close to 25 fish to turn back.  The last three fish got smaller and the tide was two hours past high, so at 26 fish I started walking back, thinking about all those cold morning in the past when I thought for sure my mom was going to kill me or congratulate me for losing my old man at sea.  At least I knew if he fell into the rip, I could find a key to his truck in a magnetic key hider under a bumper or wheel well and drive home with a new truck.