We had New Brunswick's 5th ward, 6th ward and Dewey Heights represented today. The circus came to town. Kooz, Skunk, Poor Dog and T-bone and I got an early jump on things. This was supposed to be a limited crew but I made a late week call to Poor Dog for a guest appearance from the depths of South Jersey. T-bone had a late scratch on his plans on the T-Bone so he joined the party too. Great mix of guys. The usual highjinx, nut crackin and just good fun was the order of the day. Busted lines at 6:00 went up river in search of bunker. A reliable source had them up there just the other day. We made the rounds and came up donuts. Skunks raggin about we just wasted time, pleasure tour looking at mansions, could have slept in another hour, blah, blah, blah. He’s in rare form this morning! Going to make for a good day. So, we make way through the river with a bag of cracked reds from Belford bait hut, and 8 dozen fresh ones. Nicky B (T-Bones son) made a clam donation after giving it a good shot last night on the beaches of Sandy Hook. Thanks Nick! Tuning the hook, we point the nose of Z'Ob south in pursuit of birds, marks and whatever else we can muster. Seas flat, light winds arrival in no time. We're among the fleet of predominately trollers and witness plenty of rods bending. Not a fancier of this technique, but will absolutely drop a rig to put a pig in the box. We hold off on the troll and elect to jig. Paddles in bunker, bunker and red, white with spot, Croks, Avas, and gold hammered avas make an appearance as we are trying to figue out what these fish want. A little frustrating at first. Fish are picky. A slow, I mean real slow, retrieve on the swim shad works the magic. Casting up current, a tumbling action and slight cranks on the spin got them to strike. A nice 29” is first to find the box. The guys are switching things up as we hear some hooting and hollering from a few boats around us. There are fish here but not in the numbers that showed last week. T-Bone and I worked the starboard side. I stay on the shad feeling confident after the first pick up. T-bone goes to the tackle box and breaks out his 9” pearl shad. The one that got obliterated by a blue fish last week. He’s got this puppy mended up with super glue! I’m cracking up. He did such a fine job, he could have repackaged and brought it back to Dicks for a refund. Cosmetics were great but the thing swam like it had a bad case of scoliosis. I put another fish in the box. T-Bones getting frustrated. He hates to see someone catch fish if he’s not. What the F he mumbles. On port side, Poor Dog and Kooz are hanging tough. Out of nowhere, Kooz is about to do cartwheels. He’s laughing like someone possessed. He’s got his go to metal on. Hammered gold AVA. Six inches from the surface boat-side, a bass attacks his offering. Damn near jumped into his arms. Poor Dog’s scratching his head. It’s his turn , I hear the, what’s wrong with me mantra, “What the F” again. Kooz’s day is made. He makes a contribution to the grocery cart. Skunk has the balance of the dance floor to himself and getting jack happening on the croc. He’s not a happy camper. I’m back on it with my third bass. This ones a short. T-Bone still working the Trevala/Flueger with his shad that needs to see a chiropractor. I suggest he slow down the retrieve to barely a crank. Sure enough…. Ol’ crip gets destroyed by the next fish. He’s working his stuff. Everyones on high alert… jigs flying, lines peelin, retrieves are in motion. We’re at this for 2.5 hours in absolutely picture perfect almost summer like weather conditions. By 10:15 5 fish in the box and one released. We’re working for them but there coming. Skunk is getting antsy. He and Poor Dog can’t seem to get it started….
We witness the troll. It is definitely producing a fair share of fish. Nearly every boat within spotting distance you can routinely see rods bent . No body likes to be the goat, especially Skunk. He throws the bait at the crew “we always get fish when we troll, let’s put the 9ers out”. I guess we all feel a rare moment of compassion and agree it time to give it a shot. The custom Bogans are pulled from the rack. Niner tubes retrieved from the cabin. We have a spread of chartreuse on the port and a spread of white for starboard. I get a text from Donnie needing an update. He’s back at the shop doling out those Tastee subs and living vicariously through us. Give him the lowdown that we just put out the spread, and two minutes into it, we have our first hook up. Skunk gets rid of the stink!! Thank the big man for that. It could have been a miserable day. We mark scattered concentrations of fish on the plotter and run these patterns for the next hour. Poor Dog get his turn at bat. He’s got a grin from ear to ear. No one is sucking wind today. We also miss a handful of fish. Rods pulsing like the rhythm of a piston. It is a cool thing to watch and I‘m often amazed by the creative talent of the inventors of these ideas. The majority of the fish we bring to boat are short. We do put a couple of more in the box.
Tide is changing, we‘ll have incoming and there’s a ton of clam to dunk. The shoals seem to be the perfect destination. Lines are pulled. Everyone got fish. Anything else is a bonus so we motor North. Nice ride back in. Can’t say I’ve seen too many days we’re the seas were this flat both ways. T-Bone breaks out a couple of subs courtesy of Tastee that his wife Anita prepped for us. Skunks’ got the fried chicken thing going on. A beverage for the boys and a full belly. We’re ready for round three.
Lot’s of boats anchored up from the shoal to the knoll. We nose around a bit and find a perch on the nest. Incoming and wind out of East. No fighting winds and tides. After hook is set we stay put in a perfect line. Batter up…..clams busted, mussels mashed, a handful of last season salted gars. chum slick du jour! BANG!!! T-bone sets the lever strike on the Avet and launches into one in no time. Skunks not to be outdone. He lets the bait runner peel for a bit and BANG!!! He’s hooked up. Kooz, Poor Dog and I watch as the battle lines are drawn. We can’t buy a touch on the bait so we resort to the bench making the chum our primary chore. We do a count on the box. We have nine in. Time clicks off the clock. At two, I call an audible. Lines out at 2:30. Everyone’s going home with meat. T-bone is not giving in. 2:28 and would'nt you know it, he catches the whistle fish. Although he had a slow start today, the boy was on fire. He ended up high hook, whistle fish and pool winner. Nicely done T!
Total count for the day. 17 stripers confirmed. 5 man limit.
What a day. We had the Tri-fecta. Jig, Troll and Bait. Awesome bunch of guys with the Brunswick connection for well over 40 years. Glad to be party to the circus!
Till next time.
