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  The most recent push of big fish has continued to move south it seems, and the bigger bunker have been replaced by smaller peanuts for the time being, so we had to switch to throwing shads once we hit our first blitz and saw the tiny bait scattering in all directions.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.