November 26 and 30, 2023 – Some Minor Frustration Followed by Some Out and Out Elation During the Fall Migration – Ocean County

Birds, sometimes just out of reach.

Buoyed by the prospect of NW winds on the morning of Sunday, November 26, Jeff and I met up at 5:45 AM on a street end in a beach town in Central, not Northern, New Jersey this time.  There was a bit of a swell that the NW wind had not yet knocked down after a couple days of strong South winds, which had dirted the water in addition to roughing it up.  It was not good.  We stayed put at a decent spot for first light, but we moved around when nothing was happening at 7:30 AM.  What little activity we saw during our travels was not in casting distance even with a 15 MPH NW wind.  Sometimes they were painfully close to being in range for me with a spoon!  We tried but suffered another skunk, unless you count two shad I landed on a teaser.  We did find a great rip and bar at low tide that I made a mental note to revisit at a better tide and with cleaner water.  That was the plan for November 30, and it proved to be a good one.

Jeff found a sunrise porker.

We were on the beach again on Thursday morning at 6 AM waiting for the sun and the bass.  They showed up big time.  I knew from some boots on the ground on Wednesday, including young Peter, that there was a bite in the area.  So did everyone else by Thursday, of course.  The beach looked like it was hosting a Saturday crowd.  Who am I to judge, as Jeff and I were both using each other as work appointments!  We both had a hard stops around 9 AM, and we stuck to the plan.  I was home and cleaned up for a Zoom meeting at 12 PM.  But in those three hours of fishing, we landed close to 50 bass.  I know I had just shy of 30 fish, and many, many were emergency slot keeper size, not the bonus slot keeper size, with at least four between us that were closer to 34 inches.  Jeff had a big fat boy just before sunrise, and I also had two over the slot early.  We left them biting too—eyes to the sand, don’t look back, you have to go to work.  It would have been harder to leave had we not torn them up for three hours.

More Jeff fish.

It appeared to be a sandeel bite because it was mostly what I call a no-show blitz.  Nothing showing besides a bass part if you were lucky enough to glimpse one, but the fish were there in waves and smaller packs.  A green SP minnow was definitely doing some work, but Jeff had success on the schoolbus.  After catching 20 fish on trebles, I started tossing the bunker spoon with a single siwash hook, and they ate that too.  The last three fish I caught when it was just a pick from the bars hit a classic yellow/orange Yozuri Mag Minnow that actually sinks and digs into the bar until it flies over deeper water in a slough or cut and gets clobbered.  It was a favorite bait the last time sandeels had dug in along the bars pre-2019.   

I found a few (dozen) too.

It was crowded, but we were lucky to have some good guys and good fishermen nearby.  Jeff and I were separated once the action got hot and heavy, as I have tunnel vision and get focused on the job at hand.  Between us we actually had two Jersey-famous celebs, I guess.  Mickey and Nick.  If you know who they are, you know who they are.  Let’s just say one was once a rock star from Bucks County, PA.  Tangles were kept to a minimum, like maybe two in three hours, and plenty of laughs and good times were had.  I am wired to seek out the bite away from the crowd, but that is impossible of late, so it is good to be in good company at least!  I have had some jamoke-fests, especially in MoCo, and I am not even talking about my good buddy Sandy Dunkin!  Jeff had at least 15 fish, maybe more, and probably wanted me closer to photograph all of them to send to his brother-in-law and my good friend, Dolf.  I told him I got the best one for him, and the rest all looked the same!  Call me crazy, but I may head down on Friday too.  Why not start December right, am I right?  Stay tuned, yo.

SP, Mag Minnow, THex bunker spoon, etc.  A lot of fish between us!

November 18 and 23, 2023 – More Surf Fishing and Blitz Missing – Monmouth County

Nature show, including rutting bucks and and feeding whales.

I made a couple recent surf trips, first with just Jeff on November 18, where we covered some sand and didn’t even get a touch in the dirty water we encountered post-two days of South wind.  It had turned NW by the time we hit the beach around 6 AM, but the damage had been done.  Whale watchers with telescopic lenses were seeing the boats out there on flopping bunker within eyesight of the beach, maybe a mile off, but we were only treated to a whale gorging himself on peanuts.  He must have scared the bass out of the surf zone as much as the grass and rainwater!  The other highlight was seeing a couple rut-crazy buck running the streets.  One old, big-bodied boy, whose chest could have supported a few more tines than he currently had on his head, was right on the beach block sidewalks at 10 AM.  He was probably chasing another smaller buck who snorted and hightailed it into the dunes as Jeff and I were getting sorted for the ride home.  Not great fishing, but quite the nature show!

The Boy with a butterball on Turkey Day morning.

On Turkey Day, the Boy and I planned to fish the early morning bite since we did not have to report to my mom’s house for dinner until 4 PM.  Jeff, who is always ready to fish, met us at 5:45 AM on the beach in central Monmouth County.  Things went a bit better today, with a brief, likely sandeel bite right at that magic hour of the morning.  Jeff stuck a couple shorts on a teaser while tossing a THex, and I stuck a fatty on a bone SP minnow.  The boy got the assist, since he was near enough for me to pass the rod to him to enjoy the brief battle.  I was hoping he could land his own during that window, but at least he got to see some action, which is not a given in the surf.  Young Pete had burned miles and time earlier in the week for nary a touch.  The blitzes are off the coast, so it seems like the only sure chance of success for now is that brief sandeels-on-the bar-for-two-hours thing.  I don’t mind that since I don’t love sharing the beach with 50 jamokes throwing shads and pencils at a blitz, but it is a long ride in the wee hours to catch three fish during a one-hour sandeel bite—not that I won’t be at it again in the next day or two.

Jeff with one of his two shorts, the release, some whitewater, no blitz.

The boy did get to experience the sunrise, a few fish, and even some whales working way too far off the coast.  With the wind and bright sun, the highlight of those sightings was just the plumes of mist on the horizon, but you can’t see any of this at home in bed, so I am glad he decided to join me.  We even got to witness some odd Mennonite courting ritual—couples walking two-by-two down the strand then gathering later on a jetty.  Luckily no one fell in walking over the wet rocks in handmade shoes and clothing!  We took a ride looking for birds before calling it quits, still hoping we could get The Boy on a bass.  His young eyes spotted a brief blitz we were able to intercept, but it looked like sandeels, and we only saw two short bass caught near us before the birds moved on and Jeff learned his left wader leg was full of water.  Sandy Dunkin always lives up to his nickname, but he would be there tomorrow at 3 AM if I asked him!  I may see his new waders on Sunday morning...

Beautiful morning, Mennonite love on the rocks?

November 11 and 12, 2023 – Fishing Like a Googan or Fishing Like a Local? – Monmouth County

Not bad for a short jaunt at sunset.

I was in Asbury Park for a weekend with a group of old friends, only one of which is a fishing buddy.  We have done this getaway for close to 20 years, I estimate, and the last 10 have been in Monmouth County somewhere around this mid-November window.  Many years, I don’t even bring a rod, but there have been enough fish around to prompt me to pack a rod and some plugs for this year.  Saturday night, after walking around Asbury and drinking and eating all day, my buddy Tom gently shamed me into taking a ride up north before the sun set.  He had brought some gear and waders but was probably under gunned. I proposed just bringing my one 9’ rod with a pencil and seeing what we could scare up before dark.  Along with Tom, two other buddies came along for the ride, so it was at least a 3-camera shoot when I actually hooked into an Atlantic mackerel and then a bass that was probably just over the emergency slot limit, maybe 33 but definitely not eating adult bunker today.

A little excitement for the boys.  Harrassing peanuts.

The beach was eerily quiet compared to a week ago, so not a good sign in the cellphone age that the bunker and bass were still around.  The boats were basically trolling or running slowly searching for the bait.  There was a WNW wind when we arrived a bit before 5 PM, so the ocean was glass.  Luckily enough, I spotted a small pod of bait, which eventually got noticed by something.  That something must have been the macks.  One hit my teaser and gave the boys something to photograph!  After that, I handed the rod to Tom and he tried his luck, but the bait pod of peanuts were on the move again.  We followed them for a while, but no more hits until Tom handed me back the rod, and I put on a black SP minnow ahead of the impending darkness.  Sure enough, bang!  Right in the slough a long but skinny bass ate the teaser ahead of the plug.  I am never packing waders and my plug bag again!

The three camera shoot.

I am not sure if walking up on the beach for 30 minutes in my choring boots was a googan move or a local sharpie move?  It accounted for a bass after, by all accounts, a tough surf weekend for most out there.  It motivated me to take it easy on Saturday night and agree to meet Jeff in the morning.  He bagged it at 4:45 AM, the pheasant!  Tom did not get up either, but I was on the beach in my actual waders before sunrise, this time with a total of 4 lures instead of 2.  The wind had changed and was blowing steadily from the north.  The water was clean and looked sexy enough, but it was too choppy for a pencil, and less aerodynamic and lighter lures like the SP or a shad would not cut it once the sun was up and the wind started kicking harder.  I tossed around my fourth lure in the bag, my bunker tin, with a teaser ahead of it.  I covered a few blocks in each direction and saw a short caught off one of the longer jetties.  

Tom giving it a shot.

No other signs of life.  I had hovering birds with a couple prospecting boats at first light, but nothing seemed to be under the bait the birds were tracking.  By 7:30 AM, all the boats were headed north towards the Hook, with a few just slowly trolling.  I got back home around 8:30 AM and had coffee and breakfast with the boys.  As everyone departed, Tom pitched the idea of a beach walk.  We eventually even took a ride south and prospected for birds and bait for several miles in southern Monmouth County, but it seems like we have hit a lull in MoCo.  I was glad to catch a surf bass with minimal effort on Saturday, but Sunday was a reminder that surf fishing is not easy.  I hate to think if it were, as there are hundreds of blitz chasers these days!  So many dudes, in fact, that it is easy to assume no fish are around because there are no report chasers in sight.  That proved true for Sunday, I guess….  Still, we found one.

Looked sexy on Sunday morning, but no life around after sunrise.

November 4, 2023 – Pete Gives Me a Chance to “Cheat” a Little and Enjoy Some Good Old Fashion Blood Sport – Monmouth County

Pete and me with some fishes.

Pete is more of a diehard surf guy than me these days, so I am sure he will be fine with me pointing out that us jumping on a charter this morning was “cheating.”  Still, I was ready when he let me know a spot had opened up on a trip with Captain Kerber leaving Shark River Inlet on Saturday morning, and I’d be ready again, I am sure.  Seeing those schools of bunker just off the coast and not being able to reach them, it is natural to want to join the fray.  Seeing Pete holding up 20- and 30-pound class fish in the pictures he’s sent me over the last couple of weekends was convincing enough to get Jeff and me on the beach last weekend, and I was eager to get my hands on a big fish this morning too, even from a boat!  Unfortunately, fishing was far from easy—just ask our companions on the trip, a very cool father-son duo originally from Philly but now living in Central PA, who labored more than us to get one on the deck—but we landed a good number of fish.  The emergency slot limit remains one fish per angler over 28 inches but under 31 inches, a tight one based on the number of fish in the last strong year class of 2015.  We had a 6 AM departure time, so we had a conversation with the captain and his mate Drew under the interior lights of Kerber’s 31’ Pro-Line walkaround.  He asked us, “Do you want numbers or big fish?”  We all said, “Big fish,” which meant the original plan was to snag and drop with treble hooks in the bunker schools.

Shad bite.  Wayne's hardcore hoodie for a punk rock captain and crew.

One we got out there, and Captain Kerber started marking bait and fish, I saw all the boat lights.  I was not surprised, of course.  It was a Saturday, and at least five boats had followed us out of the inlet before sunrise, so it was clear even that early that it would be crowded in the area where the large fish had been.  The most recent push of big fish has continued to move south it seems, and the bigger bunker have been replaced by smaller peanuts for the time being, so we had to switch to throwing shads once we hit our first blitz and saw the tiny bait scattering in all directions.  It takes discipline to fish slowly while in the middle of blitz conditions, but it is necessary most days in order to hook up.  Instinct says you can toss a lure into the school of feeding bass and one will surely eat it, but usually you have to pretend you are deliberately fishing for one fish at a time.  Slow rolling big, heavy shads with some pauses worked into the retrieve did the trick.  With so many jamokes and jadrools running over the bait balls, and a previous day of South wind, the bait was pretty scattered, so the captain had to work hard and burn a lot of gas to chase smaller pods under brief blow-ups.

Covered some water with a hard-working captain and mate.

He put some nautical miles in, as well.  We went far enough north to have the NYC skyline in view, joining the Raritan fleet for a while, before fishing our way back south towards our port.  We didn’t head south of Belmar, but we didn’t have to in order to put fish in the box.  Pete had at least 3 bass in and over the slot and lost one on a pencil popper late in the trip.  I put two in the box and had two over the slot, I believe.  Wayne and Alex, the father-son duo, struggled to hook or keep them on the line, but they fished hard.  They were both rather decent fishermen, too, and very good company, so all of us were encouraging them and doing a little coaching along the way.  It was a bit of grind, even for me and Pete, so much so that Kerber had to pick up a rod to show us how it was done.  I took notes, especially of how long his retrieve pauses were, and it helped me dig up a couple fish even when nothing was showing on the surface.  We ended the afternoon chasing one last blitz closer to port that was acting especially allusive.  They ended up being albies!  We packed it in then.  The bass were hard enough to catch today without chasing albies who rarely show for more than 30 seconds at a time.  We had worked hard enough chasing smaller packs of bass all day.

Nothing like Pete's last week, but still a good trip

Because Wayne and Alex only wanted a filet a piece, I went home with enough fish to share with friends and family.  My sister was at my mom’s when I called with the offer, and she was shocked that I had kept a fish.  I have not kept a surf-caught fish in a long time, maybe since the slot started at 24 inches like the current bonus slot these days.  I am sure she enjoyed eating fresh fish.  I also shared the bounty with Wardman, who stopped by to pick up a big filet and have some coffee on Sunday morning, and Ward said I could give one of his filets to young Eric, so I had a very social morning after a very social day on Saturday.  Eric was in the shed quartering a buck he bagged with the bow, so maybe he will fish now?  Jeff and I debated a Sunday afternoon trip with daylight ending an hour sooner, but with light NE winds and more sun, we decided to postpone.  I may be down this Friday morning since I have a drinking and eating weekend planned in Asbury Park with some old, old friends, and I took a PTO day for Friday.  I will have a rod and a pencil popper with me at the very least in case conditions and tides warrant an evening or predawn walk.