Burn Baby Burn:
2009 My Surfcasting Year in Review.

By DJ Muller

 

2009 in a word WOW!!!!! I get all jacked up just thinking about the past season! For me 2009 was an absolutely great year in the striper surf!! The road and I were good buddies (we were already pretty good acquaintances), I put a lot miles on my Goodyears, covering multiple locales, experimenting with non-traditional times in time honored places, and dispelled a lot of surfcasting myths. The striped bass showed me just how versatile and spread out and how unpredictable it can be. The road this year took me to Cape Cod early in the season, then back to the Cape Cod Canal a month later for a few days in May. Throw in week long trips to Martha’s Vineyard, Montauk and Cuttyhunk, as well as numerous one and two day, “commando” (quick in an out) runs to Block Island, Cuttyhunk, and Montauk. At every place I was able to take big fish (30 pounds-plus) as well as hit good numbers of fish to boot.

 The loaded red fin shined this year. God I love that plug, what a great producer! I might as well officially call it (trumpet please): “The Year of the Red Fin!” I took so many bass in so many places on that plug, if I were even more of a fool than I am, I would only carry red fins in my plug bag...OK so I am getting a little crazy here but the loaded Cotton Cordell is killer!

Speaking of great lures I also did some serious fish-catching with Dave Anderson’s, Surf Asylum, Flat-Glide Needle, which I now classify as the best wood needle on the market! It’s the needle that beat Hab’s in my book. The two things that make it outstanding are the fact that is doesn’t sink and it doesn’t come to the surface, I have never seen a lure suspend like this, it makes it so valuable in water with rocky bottom, I have no fear of hang ups. The second thing is I love about it is the way it darts while suspended, it darts and then slows down still level where bass then crush the easy target, this lures draws awesome strikes, similar to a darter. I believe the slower action takes huge strikes because a bass can sized it up better. Get a good look at it and then accelerate quickly onto it.

Now while I am in lure mode, I need to add that I have completed my third year of extensive experimentation with loading the Super Strike N-Fish or needle. It has rocketed to the top of my “must have in the bag” list because by loading it I have at least doubled its ability to catch.  Not only does it cast further it also sinks deeper…further and deeper is always better when fishing for stripers. I have loaded all the N-Fish from the one ounce needle, up to 1.7 ounces; to the 1 ½ and 1 ¾ ounce up to anywhere between 2.2 to 3.5 ounces, it all depends on surf condition, wind, and water speed as to which one gets the nod. The amount of fish taken on these this past year was also notable.
(To see my You Tube video of loading the SS needle click here.)

When you mix the 3 lures (the loaded red fin, the Flat-Glide, and the loaded SS) switching them out throughout the night makes you feel… well…like Superman!! At times it is good to keep changing up what you are throwing, the bass like that. I think that sometimes when they are set up in a rip they tend to get used to seeing a certain plug or color and then need to see something different, so believe me the “change up” works. The Flat-Glide stays roughly about a foot or two below the surface. The SS covers the deep and the dark where the big girls like to hang and the red fin stays close to the surface where the profile of a disorientated fish in panic mode is obvious against the night sky and calls bass from the depths.  

The Road

This year I was able to put a lot of time in on the road. I love fishing on the road because I really enjoy the scouting, planning strategies and then execution of the plan, the payoff comes with success (fish caught). To me, finding fish to catch is like is figuring out a puzzle each time out, similar I guess to doing a new crossword puzzle each day.

There are endless areas to figure along the striper coast, thousands of games, some big some small. The striper is such a versatile fish, it adapts so perfectly to its environment, it will go just about anywhere and eat most anything living. For me as a surfcaster it is learning how to hunt them and figuring out how to catch them that makes this game so challenging.

 

Cape Cod Canal

It is no secret that this is a great place to fish. It holds all kinds of possibilities and it is no wonder why it is favored by so many. Not only are there plenty of bass there but there are also numerous techniques and places to learn in that 17 mile stretch. My buddy Tom K. and I had a good trip to the CC Canal where we caught fish on pencils to the mid-20’s in low light conditions as well a good number of teenagers while throwing swimmers and shads in the wee hours. In the daylight there isn’t much not to like about casting to breaking stripers 100 yards away and then watching a bass turn its attention to your offering and blowing it out of the water several times before taking it deep.

 

Majestic Martha’s Vineyard

I spent a week in the Vineyard with a group of awesome travel buddies. Murty, Roon, Raymond, and myself. We stayed on the south west corner of the island in Aquinnah, formerly known as Gay Head, at a very good friend of mine’s place. We were literally 5 minutes from one of the most scenic lighthouses in the country, Gay Head. Standing high upon the bluffs at the lighthouse you get the awesome views of the entire south side of the island as well as Cuttyhunk as she lay to the southeast, on the southern-most tip of the Elizabeth Islands, that lay directly to the west.

Martha’s Vineyard is a huge island and we concentrated most of our fishing to the locales in our vicinity and believe me, it was enough to keep our hands full! The south east corner includes some legendary bass waters such as Gay Head, Philbin Beach, Pilot’s Landing, Dogfish Bar, Menemsha, and Squibnocket with its notorious mussel/gravel bar.

The only time we did drift from the south west corner was when we hit Chappaquiddick Island which in and of itself is an endless adventure. I have spent week long campaigns on Chappy with all its good fishing real estate there, but when you mention Chappy you have to mention the crown jewel of Chappaquiddick Island, the rip at Wasque (pronounced WAYS-QWEE).

This is one of the best rips on the striper coast, the water rips around the bottom corner of the island and the bass and bluefish stack up in these rips. We only fished there for a very short period as we had our hands full with all our southwest options.

Based on my observations of the rip I don’t think most of the locals (10-plus guys) that were lined up there really fish it right, I saw a lot of metal, tins, and bluefish while there. I fished it for only 15 minutes and had two bass while the locals looked on in wonderment. Apparently the high riding tins were hitting the high riding blues while the bass, as usual, hung closer to the bottom. Without any kind of penetration the locals where hitting the blues. I threw a quick sinking lure and had a bass within a few cast as did Rooney who was thinking along the same lines.

The trip was so diversified; fishing sandy Gay Head is the total opposite of the rocky Squibnocket, and Dogfish Bar different than both of those. I truly love beach at Gay Head and I have always done well there with fish into the 30’s on eels. It was good to re-visit that beach and even better to find bass there again. Rooney hit a couple big bass near 30 pounds and the rest of us had good fish to boot, mostly on Slug-Go’s.

We spent a lot of time crawling around Squibnocket and had moderate success there as one day we fished it in calm conditions, the next day in a driving wind. It was your typical boulderfield set-up but I was not overly impressed with the gradual drop off into deeper water, I prefer a faster drop-off like the ones Cuttyhunk and Block offer.

 

We had a great and successful fishing trip in the Vineyard I feel that Martha’s Vineyard is a huge and relatively untapped resource in terms of surfcasting. It sports endless opportunities and I am fairly certain that even more big bass, than those already taken, could be had from the surf with more application. I would love to fish there for a month straight from mid-June to mid-July. That said I would like to continue to uncover many of its deeply buried surfcasting secrets, the land of endless options.  

Cuttyhunk Calling

The first run of the season to Cuttyhunk was a two-night commando run with my two good buddies Ray and Turner (he could only do one night mind you) in July. A commando run is where you fish all night and then get out of town in the morning. We did a two-nighter so we needed to stay over somewhere so we booked a quick night at the fabled Cuttyhunk Fishing Club and used that as our base. I have to admit we have very good friends within those walls. They took very good care of us.

The fishing was good! On the rising tide we banged fish mostly teenagers and down on artificials (Slug-Go’s, needles and red fins). As the tide slacked we went to eels and took some good fish. Our nemesis on this trip came unexpectedly and took us down hard…mosquitos!! When the night winds stopped the mosquito’s took over pushing us in to “run, don’t walk mode,” they were the worst I had ever seen! It was unbelievable! They were in my eyes and ears relentlessly and within seconds. It was the worst kind of torture, you couldn't even cast and retrieve with these annoying pests mauling you! Who would have thought to remember to bring bug spray while in Cuttyhunk?

 

The next night we did indeed bring a couple gallons of bug spray and we were right back into fish again. I flirted with a good bass but in the end the hook pulled (for no apparent reason, Grrrr!) leaving me scratching my noodle for answers. The night was curtailed when Ray broke his (one and only) rod at around 2:30 a.m. while wrestling a lunker in the neck deep waters of the boulderfield. We hadn’t slept in two nights and easily decided that we would walk back to the club and get some much needed sleep. The morning came too quick as we almost missed the only ferry off the island, the trip was as good one can get needless to say.

 

Block Island Commando

It was about 3 weeks later when Raymond, Lell, and me met up in Galilee and got ready to board the Block Island Ferry. We sat on the deck of a waterside restaurant and planned how we would attack the island in another commando raid. The ferry ride was beautiful, as always, and we hit the dock in Old Harbor and then we B-lined it for the taxi stand. We were then transported to our premeditated destination were we did a walk and then donned our wetsuits and got a feeling for the area as night began to fall. The fishing was slow…until the lights went out and then it was, as Ray always says, “Game on!!!” We hit fish good for two nights straight. We all had endless fish to 20 pounds and I had the good fortune of a 30 pound-plus when the eels came out. The first night I did major damage on Asylum’s Flat-Glide needle, my new number one needlefish! On the second night it was the loaded red fin that they preferred for the encore performance. It was lights out fishing until the tide slacked and the water dropped out and then it was time to curl up on a cozy rock pile for some shut-eye. YEAH RIGHT!! It was a new definition for pain!

 

As morning came we peeled off our seal costumes and were found sitting on one of the benches at the ferry terminal fighting off sleep in our civvies, waiting to board the first boat to the mainland. The road called and I think we all took long distance calls from our soft comfortable beds back home in NJ. The adrenaline and the stories kept our sleep depraved minds entertained all the way home, until our exit sign ended another great trip. Put it in the books!

 

Sleeper in Montauk

It was late August and I was determined to make a trip to Montauk for some summer large. I called my good LI friend Matt and he was up for the task. I took the train this time (and probably the last time) from my local train station in Manasquan to Penn Station and then from there to the Merrick station on the LIRR where Matt was going to pick me up. I think I only poked two or three people with my rod while carrying it on the train and through the station. Gee you would think that people would be more understanding. I told the one guy that they can put eyeballs back in nowadays...I am not sure he believed me though.
Anyway we were off and we were psyched (for no obvious reasons) and we were happy to be hanging again and heading to the Mecca for an all-nighter on the rocks.

Well it happens some times. We fished our asses off, north side, south side, under the lamp and all for naught. Not a damn hit all night. So we hit Johnny’s for breakfast and headed west…I had to catch a train.

 

Celestial in Cuttyhunk

On the next trip the travel team once again reassembled and what a team it was!! Murty, Raymond, Doc, Lellis, Koz (a first timer, but you wouldn’t know it), ace Jolliffe, and yours truly, we were headed out for a week on the legendary island of Cuttyhunk, a place of myth and legend. This crew is like a dream team, all great fishermen, all independent fisherman that have their own goals and work ethic, no follow-the-leader games here. Each very component, complete and loaded for serious fishing. Not a jean and sneaker fishermen amongst us! The thing I love about my travel team is that it is a collection of independent fishermen that have no problem wondering out alone into the night and feeling perfectly comfortable working alone. That said each member also knows how to fish correctly with other members, if and when a small group heads out to fish. The group either paired off in small groups or fished alone and each guy had his own highlights of the trip, awesome people to compare notes with at the end.

 

Cuttyhunk is highly hyped and misinterpreted by the unknowing. A great place to fish but not the “guarantee” some would convince you to think that it is. Cuttyhunk is big time hit or miss, if anyone thinks it is a sure thing, prepare for disappointment and let me say as a neutralizer, all that glitters is not gold, and some that speak do so with forked tongue in mouth and dollar signs in their eyes. Cuttyhunk has equals and many of them. If you go to Cuttyhunk, go with big work ethic in mind not with big dreams. All you can hope for is that you hit it at the right time, for if you do…the world will be your oyster. 

I worked extremely hard to dispel myths and to find big bass on this trip. I based all my locations on what I considered good looking water, not based on places of historical significance. I chose four areas where I believed big bass would pass by or hold, areas that I thought would produce a lunker or two. At each of the four points/areas, (all of areas were diametrically opposed to each other yet all produced the same result) the numbers were good with fish up to 20 pounds, each night I produced double digit catches, yet the big fish didn’t come, not unusual for Cuttyhunk. I knew that it wasn’t just me as there were a good number of surfcasters out and about and news travels fast of a big fish on a small island, all week there was not one big fish taken. The big fish simply were not around the island. Again…it happens there.

Finally after a week of fish, none over 20, a stiff wind made enough of a change that I hit a high 20 pound fish on our last night a good sign that possibly some better fish had moved in around the island. Now mind you I will agree with you that a high 20 isn’t a great fish, but after a week of hard work and small fish, that 20+ sure felt good! It is all relative, right?

The loaded red fin and the Asylum Flat-Glide again ruled the roost although my trusty loaded SS needle also held its own.

Did I mention about the food and social side of week-long trips? Ah maybe later. On we go.

 

Windy Montauk

It was a very quick turn around and a large reason why I love my wife so much, it is because she is so cool...and understanding…either that or else she just wants to get rid of me! Hmmm I will have to ponder that! Anyway, I got home Saturday and Monday morning I drove into the village of Montauk for a five day adventure (Montauk is always an adventure!) It was early October and the excitement raced through my veins the way a big weakfish races through a school of spearing.

The trip was marred by foul, hard blowing westerly wind. A good wind is always welcome in Montauk…except for the ones that we had. Even a good northwest is alright but not at 40-50.

Me and my group worked hard, we did a lot of scouting and searching for some good, fishable water. On Tuesday night the winds went south and I hit the south side rocks, wetsuiting in a decent swell. I spent a lot of time in the water on that Tuesday night as the waves or swell would knock me off and back a few yards, it built as the tide came in. The waves and swell started around foot level, a couple hours later I was taking them in the knees and thighs. However the beating has its reward as I hit good fish, 14 I believe it was to 18 pounds for a good hour or so on bucktails. The good hit felt good but the moon popped out and the fishing died so off I went.

The next morning the gale blew south real hard so it was to the town beaches, huge driving surf with a mix of sand eels and bluefish and bass. I got off to a terribly slow start as one of my buddies smoked the bass on almost every cast, they were digging the yellow teaser he had tied on. I finally got my pattern/technique down and started smoking as well in the raging, angry surf. The lure that was getting the deed done was the A-47 with no tail. I was able to drive this far enough through the wind to where the bass were sitting just beyond the break. All were keeper-size. Once I had the pattern figured out I just stuck to it, banging fish on almost every cast until the conditions deteriorated to the point where it was sweeping so hard that I couldn’t keep the tin down and in front of me at all. The beach, which at one point had a hundred plus guys, was now vacated as it became unfishable. Eggs and sausage sounded good, time for breakfast!

Thursday night the good Lord finally turned the fan off and the winds were almost non-existent, just slightly puffing out of the NW. It was back to the southside rocks. I once again found a leading boulder which I never fished before and set up on it and began casting. This night was much different in regards to conditions. Where the swell and waves pounded me on Tuesday night, knocking me off my rock at least 25 times, tonight was just a gentle swell that rose over my feet and through my legs. The night started quiet but then came the first hit followed closely by the first bass, it was a decent bass, over 30” and it was the first of several that would come over the next hour all teen-sized…and up. The good fish came towards the end of that hour-long hit in a bass that went thirty-plus maybe bigger I don’t know, I didn’t weigh it, but it was decent. On this fish I was fortunate enough to have a couple buddies sitting behind me on the beach, so I swam her in for a quick photo shoot and then release. I find a lot more satisfaction in the releasing of a big “egg producer” than I do taking it for other reasons. I had no good reason to keep it.

 

And Again…The Mecca

Ray, Doc and me planned a quick trip back out to Montauk, we were going to meet up with our buddy “The Fish Finder” Dave R. who had been out there a couple days already. We planned to fish a southside spot and began our trek before dusk. We did not get very far when we ran across some very heavy fish feeding activity right in a cove, the action built and built before our eyes until an all-out, classic Montauk blitz erupted right in front of us. Hey what were we to do? So we did. We blitzed bass and blues for two hours non-stop, fish on every cast. An incredible site! Bass at 360 degrees, all around us, chasing white bait in between the boulders, bay anchovies jumping up onto the boulders to escape a certain doom. The next morning the wind howled ugly again and home we went.

 

 Back to the Block

The phone rang and I answered it, the road called again and the next trip was to Block Island again in late October. I had to sneak one more in before the curtain dropped so off I went with Doc and Mike for a quick 3 day bass barrage. Block Island is a lot of fun and this year it was very good because the sand eels moved in and then stayed there all year, the bass did like-wise.

The thing I like best about the Block is the wetsuiting opportunities. Block Island in my estimation is the best wetsuiting island of them all, just because well located boulders with access to deep water are all over the place. I like leading rocks on rocky, bouldery points, it’s heaven to me, with good moving, deep water, with structure in the form of submersed rock piles out in front, it doesn’t get any better than that for stripers. 

The first night was great we hit one of the south corners of the island before dark to get a feel for the terrain. After dark we found bass in good number. This was a wild hit because the tide was dead low and the water was rolling across the long shallow gravel bars and then dropping into the deep trough at our feet. The bass where stacked up in the troughs and they were of fair size (up to 20 pounds, nothing under 12 pounds). They hammered the red fins unmercifully. The other hot spot was on the deep edges of the rocky points where the water was dumping back out to the ocean. It seemed the bass were in there waiting in ambush as these waters dumped. We walked down a ways, working up bass all along.

It was a long day and we were whopped after the good hit and the boys wanted to hit the rack so I dropped them off back at the B&B. I was still amped up so I went back out to a place where I had done well in the past. The swell was fairly big and I needed to be careful wetsuiting alone (I like to team up) but I was fairly familiar with the stretch. I cautiously made my way out to a good rock and fished for 45 minutes where I was able to hit 2 more bass to 18 pounds on a red fin and an Asylum Flat-Glide. That seemed to satisfy my insatiable desire to fish for that day either that or I just ran out of gas. The hit petered out and I had to get some sleep before the next adventure so I headed back for some rest before the next opportunity presented itself.

The next night Andy, my buddy from Pa. showed up and we started on the south end of the island at dusk where Andy promptly hit a nice 20 pound bass on a Junior, it was what I called his welcome to the island. He accepted it gratefully and on we went.

And then I saw Doc hit 3 nice bass beside a distant point. I was in a bucktail mood and the bass were too. I caught several. The bass were super high energy bass, man they fought incredibly hard! These were real black-backed, well-fed, high octane bass.  

We left there and again hit a south corner and the fishing began again. The wind had changed direction and the water was much different scenario from the night previous, we worked the same pattern but it wasn’t as good as the previous night. I eyed the boulderfield then went hunting for a good boulder, found a good leading rock and went to town. The town was good to me. Good sweeping water pulling left to right, the red fin again worked great short while the new acquired afterhours stubby needle did the long range damage. What a good lure!! The hit wasn’t smoking hot but the fish were “juiced”!!! Man the power of these fish was scary, twice I knew I had 30 pounders hooked only to find they were only just under 20 pounds when I lit them up. I think I pulled a muscle in my jaw from the long drops.

Day three provided a massive blowout with winds exceeding 50 m.p.h. I thought for sure the house that we were staying in was going to get blown down. The ferry was shut down and we were stuck on Block with nowhere to fish. The winds subsided enough the next afternoon allowing us to escape. Another memorable trip was in the books.

 

Home Sweet Home?

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention my own home waters of New Jersey which sports possibly the best spring/summer striper/bunker run on the east coast and I might go as far as to say perhaps one of the best runs in striper coast history. Your chances for a big fish are very good while this takes place. There is one small speed bump mind you and that is that you will in all likelihood have to take a beating and get abused in order to get one. The sheer numbers of people trying to catch a lunker is oppressing and it takes most of the fun out of the fishing. The internet and the cell phone crowd have in essence ruined the fishery. If you happen to be lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time with fish in front of you, once you have been spotted by a cell phone spy, one call and with in minutes you will have more friends by your side than you can imagine. I have seen jetties go from 3 guys (the ones actually fishing) to 28 guys in fifteen minutes thanks to the cell phone contingency. It really stinks because say you hook up to a nice 30 pound fish in broad day light, you know that within minutes you will be completely and thoroughly mugged. So your overall feeling instead of shher excitement is that of panic and haste. You want to hurry to get your fish in and unhooked and try to get off at least one more cast before you end up in a web of braid. I have nicknamed it ‘combat fishing’ where it would not be a bad idea to wear a helmet, safety goggles, chest protector and shin guards (and oh yeah guys…a cup) when heading out onto a rock pile…lures, gaffs, and Mexicans flying all over the damn place.

Now all that said, these bass blitzes when they come in on the huge bunker schools are truly an amazing sight to behold. I have had the good fortune of being in on these blitzes and watching first hand as the bass go crazy on their favorite food. Again it is amazing!

As an example, a couple years back we had what I labeled “The Blitz of the Century.” Bass attacked the beach in unison over about a 5 mile stretch. Every jetty in that stretch had bass to 50 pounds, (don’t get excited most were 20-30). On my jetty that night me and five others hooked up on every cast for hours, I finished the night with over 20 bass to 38 pounds. I was totally and completely exhausted. I stopped fishing only because I simply couldn’t fish anymore.

Last year I was in on another in the middle of the afternoon, it was your typical bass-bunker blitz, where I got something like 14 bass to 38.6 pounds, I released all.

 

Before each season starts, I sit down with my journal and I pen my goals for the upcoming year. I have done this for years; it gives me something to work towards. This year one of my NJ goals was to catch a big bunker-bass, in what I call the honest way; night time, throwing artificials. Anyone can catch a big bass in a bunker blitz, no real skill is needed just luck. If a Mexican can pull a 40 off a jetty, anybody can, I see nothing special. When it gets nuts, hitting a big bass is as easy as catching snappers in the river on an August evening on a snapper popper, the only difference is everything is bigger, from tackle to fish. Working the night waters for a wily foe and then taking one to me is the essence of our sport.

 

I am grateful. This season, late one night, while working the tides at 3 a.m. I was able to hit a good bass (36.5 pounds) in the dark. That fish meant so much more to me than most of those big blitz fish because I had to really earn it. It was a huge battle with wave and rock and fish, the kind where all of your skill-sets are called upon for completion of the task. Battling a great fish in the dark, waves knocking you around as you get low to the water, near the edge on slimy rocks and trying to gaff a big fish in darkness, while trying to keep your light on her, where at any minute she can suddenly turn and cut you off on a barnacle encrusted rock, it was clearly a classic battle! God I love that stuff!
 

I checked that one off my goal list.

 

All this big bass talk brings me to my last point of this exposition and that would be…our future as bassmen and the future of the mighty striper. If we want to continue to have bass fishing like we do now all along the striper coast we need to seriously consider tomorrow. Each of us, need to realize that our future lies with these big fish and we as striped bass fishermen, both from boat and surf, are killing way too many of them! A 30 pound-class bass lays roughly 4.5 million eggs per spawn and these fish spawn every year. Once they get bigger (mid-40 pound-class and up) they become less fecund and spawn maybe every 4 years and laying fewer eggs. For every 30 pound-class fish you kill you take that many eggs out of next years Young of the Year (YOY) index. Please remeber this.

 

Now maybe you want to point the finger at me, feel free. I do take big fish every year for a tournament I fish in, The Striper Cup, but I do it for team camaraderie and for good competition. That said I have set rules for myself, I will take two big fish for the Cup and that is it. I could take a hell of a lot more, like some do, but I want fish for tomorrow and for our children to enjoy. It doesn’t mean anything to me to kill just to kill or to kill and then cull, this is bull and it has to stop!! I have instilled a personal standard of “Love ‘em and Leave ‘Em,” or as my good friend says, CPR, catch-photo-release. When heading out when huge fish dominate the scene I make sure that I have two essentials along with the usual and obvious; my scale and my camera. I bang the fish, weigh it to eliminate “lies and exaggerations,” photograph it for the ages, and then I give my girl and honorable release because she deserves it.

I would ask that you strongly consider this as an option and I would ask that you consider it while being of sober mind and spirit, no I don’t be booze, I mean adrenaline. If you make a decision after a battle with a large, you are then faced with a huge and emotion-filled decision…should I keep her? If you have run through your options while calm and collected it can make the decision much easier for when you are in the heat of the battle.

See you on the beach!
THE END.