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?