Some of you may know that I lost my grandfather on September 2^nd of this year and, even though he had been sick for more than a year and had lived a pretty full life, it really took a toll on me. He was the person in my family that I aspired the most to be like and he was the center of what makes our family what it is. A hard worker, a lover of the outdoors and one HELL of a great guy. I could go on and on, but I won’t… I just wanted to share an excerpt from the speech I gave at his memorial service, it’s a realization I came to at a time when most of the people reading this will understand, when I was thinking clearest… when I was standing on a rock in the ocean.

…In this last week we have all had realizations. In the most naïve corners of our minds we have been hammered with the sudden fact that he is gone—and that this is final. But not long after coming to that conclusion on my own, I began to realize that this is nowhere near the actual truth. I called one of my closest friends that night and we made plans to go fishing—something that Grampa and I shared a love for. Later that evening I found myself standing on a rock surrounded on all sides by the dark ocean as I began my usual, mind numbing, routine of casting, retrieving and hoping for a bite. In those first few minutes, I forgot that he had been ill, I forgot that I’d said my last goodbye, I forgot all of it—and for those minutes, life felt normal again.

Then I remembered.

But I wasn’t crushed by the weight of his loss or the sadness of its supposed finality—I felt like I could talk to him. I felt like I could finally take him with me. I had described this very moment to him probably 10,000 times but now I felt like he was there. It was a eureka moment—I actually said out loud to the waves, “Oh, Gramp! I can take you with me now!” This may sound like my grief had taken over a large portion of my brain and that a course of strong meds waits in my not-so-distant future. But the fact is—and this is the truth—in that moment, my head was completely clear, my memory was purring like a Cadillac and all of those feelings of love and pride that I’ve described as something tangible that I could feel, almost hold in my hand, for all of the years of my life until now… Guess what? I could feel them again. I could see his smile. I could see his plaid shirt, his glasses, I could see him smirk with a mix of astonishment and approval. “Yup, this is what I do Gramp” I said out loud I again. I could feel our minds working together as they had so many times before when I needed help building something or when he was explaining “the right way” to trim out a window. We were surveying the situation together. And all of the things that I knew he would have seen—a shooting star over the southern horizon, a single seagull’s black silhouette against the dark plum sky—had more meaning because I knew that the fact that I always notice those things comes directly from him. To me that’s goosebump material it’s like unexplained magic, living in a Fairy Tale.

Am I trying to say that Grampa came to visit me that night on the rock in the ocean? I don’t necessarily think that this is what happened. I think that a person’s spirit lives on because they are remembered and I believe that when you’re close to that person, you carry some of that spirit with you, always. That spirit is embodied by the memory of the feeling that the person gave you; and that feeling you felt is their love. And it is so familiar because it was always there, you can’t forget it—you didn’t have to be talking to them to feel it, it was understood, the tap was always on. That feeling is much too strong to go away—he loved [this family] so much that there’s enough left here to last all of our lifetimes. As long as his memory lasts, his love still exists. I have learned that you can call upon these feelings simply by remembering with your heart. Those feelings we all felt from Grampa are still there, we’re never going to forget him and because of that, his love will outlast us all.

Love is an unexplained energy and it lives on in anything that makes you think of someone. No one questions its existence, everyone feels it and you should never let it go. We’re all going to miss you Gramp, but since we can all carry you with us we’ll never feel like we’re without you…

These words came from the center of everything that makes my life worth living, I wanted to share them because that night in the surf really showed me that, no matter what your religion, beliefs or spirituality happen to be, we’re all human and we all suffer these losses. Keeping the memory of your loved ones alive will not only bring you comfort whenever you need it, but it will keep your familial ties strong and it will help you pass along that strong core of family values and self-understanding that older generations seem to have a much better grasp on than what we see on a regular basis today. We all have great men and women in our lives and I couldn’t be more thankful that I had my Grampa around for more than 35 years of my life—every second of that time helped to make me who I am.

Editors note

Please look into the author heading and you will realize that it was Dave Anderson who lost his grandfather and wrote the blog

Zeno

Edward Sousa 48 inches

Sean Kearny 45 inches

Mike benziger 44 inches

Matt Vaccaro 42 inches

Frank Goncalves 41 inches

Bill Fischer 38 inches

tourney update..

unofficial leader 48 inch

Official Striperthon 2015 TAG

Also of note, both Tommy and I will be traveling for our club contest.Your entry will be recorded when received but we will not be able to confirm the size of your fish to exact length and approve it until we get back on Sunday and blow it up in Photoshop on our giant SJ 90 inch screen. So keep sending the pictures in and we will confirm their receipt

Here is your official contest tag. Please read the rules HERE on how to properly use it. Good luck out there and please be safe

one of the sample shots from past  striperthon

Two things jumped out at me while fishing Thursday and particularly Friday in what was probably the craziest weather ever. Not being able to lift your head to see where your bucktail lands because rain driven by 50 mph wind gusts made your face feel like pin cushion

One

Most of you know Craig VanShtalmo aka Craig Cantelmo, the Super rep for Van Staal Reels. I know Craig for awhile now but I never had a pleasure of fishing with him although I’ve seen his truck in MTK all the time AND he owes me a sight fishing trip I won on a website that doesn’t even exist anymore..haha

Craig is well known as a sight casting captain extraordinare in Peconics and as a magician with a  sissy stick aka fly rod. But although I have heard him talk about surf fishing I never fished with him to actually have an opinion on his skills. Lets be honest, any “pro” or “rep “I ever fished with exception of Roy Leyva and few others i find to be , lets just say “less then impressive” surfcasters

I got a chance to watch Craig fish in a shoulder to shoulder line up on Jones Reef on Thursday where about the only way you could have fit into that lineup would be if you jumped on someones shoulders. Did I mentioned that the conditions were a “little” crazy AND that Jones Reef is probably the most difficult place to fish on  the whole north side of Montauk Point? I wont get into a detail explanation why but I can guarantee  that you will be humbled here with any strong surf running

I tell you what, that dude CAN fish and he’s got a cahones of steel to boot! The fish were not big this day but he put on a absolute clinic and outfished everyone by at least 3 to1. And pushed farther than most were willing to go…

Here is a short video of him hooking and landing a bass[youtube]https://youtu.be/8umx7BUn_sU[/youtube]

the second thing…many of you know that I lost better parts of last two years to elbow tendinitis. One thing I backed off was  using a lot of pencil poppers unless brutally necessary (which happened to me last night). The second thing I changed was switching to a 10 foot rod instead of an 11. But which rod, there are so many of them? In search of answers I went to SJ Lou Caruso this spring and he recommended a new Century Noreaster Kevlar rod. Now you should know that I would trust Lou with my life and my kids so when this is what he recommended, i gave him a go ahead to build it. Yeah, I been loving every minute of using it 

BUT

If you told me few years ago that I was going to fish in the 40mph gusts like I did on Friday with a 10 foot rod and NOT lose any distance compared to those around me carrying bigger sticks I would tell you that you are insane! Just the fact that you would even mentioned to me using a 10 foot rod in a Noreaster to punch a 2 ounce bucktail into the wind would get you unfriended on FB..ok, I am just kidding but the elbow issues have made me change my gear a little.

And the fact that this rod has a sensitivity and yet balls to control the fish in that crazy sweep and rough  water ..I just had to publicly thank Lou for recommendation and a fine build. The man has built every rod I fished for the last few years and this is why. He listened to what I was saying, he knew the action in rod I preferred, he recommended a rod that greatly exceed my expectations

We are lucky to have Lou

Rich Troller, one of the most brilliant thinkers in the world of surfcasting is back with another edition of his Reading the Beach videos.

I strongly suggest you watch also the first 3 installments

there is GOLD in there for most of us

Due  to dangerous surf conditions and impending hurricane this weekend SJ Fall Striperthon 2015 has been postponed until next weekend October 9-11th

We hope all of you stay safe this weekend and we certainly pray  that this hurricane goes out to sea

STRIPERTHON POSTPONED UNTIL NEXT WEEKEND

Here is a video from 2013, on how to duplicate lures. If case you missed it originally in the SJ , 

After the little flurry in Browns died down, we all walked together back to the west. At this point if I remember correctly the tide was almost out. They lined up to fish the hole again while I being the youngest and stupidest had to be the one the furthest onto the reef. For about half an hour we plugged without success. I figured these guys have done this a zillion times, there is nothing my lure will find that they can’t, might as well try few casts straight into the reef. I found a good rock and fired up an overhand cast for the first time that day. Yeah, i got a little more distance but I lost half of retrieve due to the huge belly in the line. Definitely NOT worth it. Next cast was a kind of modified overhand/sideaways,  Cringlish type of cast only I can make. Guess what, I was into a fish and then another and then another. Greg came off the hole to my right and he started to catch few casting straight onto the reef. The conditions were a little too wild for the rest of the crew to join in and Greg and I kept picking at them. Although I was catching I did not like the angle I had, as half of my cast was bouncing over shallow rocks so I moved to another rock to his left. Now I was in much better position to make a correct presentation with a small bucktail and for whatever reason got myself in one of this insane “zones” where you just cant do anything wrong. I picked off another dozen or so fish before tide ran out and bite died.

Off to Herb’s to get a sandwich, texted Silver Fox that I am going back to south side, filled up the thermos with coffee again at 7/11 and back in the water for the incoming within the hour.

At this point I am the only person on the south side in the best looking water I’ve seen all year. On the first eight casts I landed eight fish, all while looking over my shoulder for Silver Fox who I was hopping would show up. He was fishing under the light and north side all night without a bump so I was really hoping he would show. Lo and behold here he comes and after landing two fish the bite shuts off. I moved around the reef a bit trying to find them while I left him in more calmer conditions and managed another two but that was all she wrote. Tried another spot together further east but no one was home in spite of great tide and conditions. Its really sad what this fishery has become in relatively few short years. Smaller and smaller schools result in shorter and more localized bites, if you are not in the “right” (lucky) spot, you are often out of luck. Nothing like years ago when good fishing was spread along the coast.

By afternoon I was heading back home, my construction boots waiting and ready to work. A  solid trip in my mind considering the state of fisheries, yet at the same time very disappointing to see only flurry of activity in those conditions. Yeah, I’ve heard all the excuses, the water is too warm, the fish are staying offshore, bass cant afford NY taxes, Sandy damaged the beaches, Kate’s breast are too large (they are perfect if you ask me)

I been saying this for years and I will keep saying it, we are in for some very unpleasant catch rates for the next few years. Saturday I fished all day and probably made a thousand casts with even better conditions for 3 dinks that took pity on me. I hope I am wrong about this

On a personal how-to note, If I do point out something to someone about what they might try to do to increase their catch rate, its not because I am conceded asshole. Its because I like seeing people catch fish and continue to improve their game and skills. That is why we keep making how-to videos. I learned two things about a particular spot on Wednesday that I was not aware of, even after fishing here for 15 years. My point is never stop learning, because if you do then you will become a conceded ahole..lol

One thing on these type of conditions…..heavy crosswind means a HUGE belly in your line if you cast overhand in most locations on south side . On the north side you get a benefit of casting right into the wind, you can easily fire off an overhand cast without a huge bow. But even there, the point of impact , meaning where your line is at the point of your bucktail landing in the water is insanely important. Of course those who have been doing this for ages will pooh-pooh but because its a second nature to them. But I see a lot of guys struggling with firing off a good cast and then losing half of retrieve by picking up a slack. If you put your line on the roller BEFORE your bucktail hits the water you will take off MOST of your slack out and be ready to catch fish AS SOON as it hits the water. Casting into the right portion of the wave is a whole other story that i will get to at some point but its no different than what I wrote in The Art of Surfcasting with Lures about metal lip swimmers. Same concept, different presentation. Eventually you will know exactly at one point during your retrieve you can expect to get a fish..even with fishing not being what it once was

(There is MUCH more to this , particularly the size of bucktails , retrieve rate, cast angles and retrieve thought the foam speed variations but unless you make a good cast, all these other things will be irrelevant)

Short video on expecting the hit..unlisted so please don’t share

[youtube]https://youtu.be/iuIQrDCukqM[/youtube]

If you wondering why this story is a week old, its because that bite is long gone and over, but it might help you the next time it happens

FALL SJ STRIPERTHON THIS WEEKEND..get your hooks sharpened

Let me get what’s on my mind out first, you’ll find all the giveaway winners at the bottom of this blog.

I have a hard time eating, sleeping or concentrating on work during NE blows in the fall. Its a disease I caught long time ago and just not can shake it of regardless how bad the fishing gets..and its getting downright scary. If you told me only three years ago that I would be fishing yesterday in those type of conditions at Montauk Point, I would have told you that after catching a fifty or a hundred fish I would have called it quits…by noon. Instead of making three thousand casts for three rats in caswels…but back to my story

I arrived in Montauk Tuesday night. Monday they had a wicked NE wind and no one more or less caught a single fish. Tuesday they had better day as they picked and picked at them all day on south side. No, nothing like it should be or nothing like it used to be but then again, we are not like we used to be.

I suited up alone in Camp Hero around 11 PM and took a walk to caswels. The conditions were awesome and quite a bit intimidating, 5 to 7 foot sets with NE wind gusting to 20. Not as strong as it usually is associated with noresters but enough to get fishing going I was hoping. How has the fishing been? I have a personal friend who has been plugging Montauk during the week since summer and he caught a LOT of BIG blues. He hasn’t seen a bass on the north side in weeks and weeks. And he was not  the only one. As such I wasn’t expecting much, few dinks would make my  night.

I really truly respect those who hunt for big fish. It takes a dedication to concentrate on one part of the sport, and probably the most difficult one. I am on the opposite side of the spectrum, I just love fishing “conditions” more than catching big fish. If I had to pick between 50 dinks at Caswels  that night or catch a one 50b bass I’ll take dinks six days a week and twice on Sunday. This is probably why I get psyched up for the storms. I just love that crazy white water, crazy wind and small 3/4 to 1 ounce bucktails cast sidearm.

After arriving at Caswels and finding a rock on the reef I thought for a minute what would happen if I cracked my head here as there wasn’t a single guy fishing on the south side. That proved to be premonition of sorts as getting off the rock later I severely jammed my thumb in the rock and I am still dealing with repercussions 5 days later. I am always looked as being weird for not carrying my phone when fishing rocks but I just don’t. I want to be alone, I want to enjoy these few hours in peace and serenity only Montauk or Cuttyhunk can provide for me. I want to get immersed into the nature, the rocks, the waves. I want my arm to become a long wand that will move in the rhythm with gyrating waves and will pluck bass from the milky foam one after another before I get to tired to lift my arms. I don’t want to be disturbed….and if something ever happens, if I need assistance? We all got to go someday, I’ll just crawl up on the rock and wait for what God has in store for me. Besides, good luck getting reception on the south side

Fortunately the jammed thumb was all the abuse I took other than some pummeling by waves, even better , it was on my non-casting hand..haha. I fired up a cast, cut my cast by a quarter so I can control my bucktail and I put my line on the roller. Immediately i felt the bump and I set a hook hard. Would you believe that  was my only fish for then next two hours!!!

The jinx of the first cast fish strikes again !

With a  tail between my legs I got back to my truck and took my gear off. After a very uncomfortable night in the truck I was up for dawn at Camp Hero again. I did not bother checking the north side at all, if there was fish there, they can have them, there really wasn’t anyone there to fish for them. I saw Vito, Donny Musso, Pat Abate  and crew plugging the Rat Hole but I did not see a bend in a rod. There might have have been one more guy in Kings and one in Browns but that was it. The water look absolutely gorgeous with big sets of breakers rolling over the reef and white water everywhere, hard to believe their rods were not bent. They were getting out of the water and walking towards Browns, where there was a single guy fishing the corner and it looked liked he was into some fish

I had to run to the restroom in upper lot and by the time I got back , they were all in Browns casting away. I suited up and joined them. I cant explain to you how awesome is to fish with these legends of the surf, especially during the week when you literally have a place to yourself. I found a rock where the reef met the cove and fired a sideway cast into a big roller. I managed five fish while the legends picked few each, I just got lucky on a better rock, plus don’t forget I can get out further as they are all about thousand years old….haha

A slow pick but it got better..at least for me..stay tuned

The winners of this past week giveaways

MTK LTD shirt winners and Big Poppa winner. Please reach us at info@surfcastersjournal.com with your shipping address and size

ERIC MATUZSAN

Pete the polish pistol

James Donnelly

The shirts are in the online store for a limited time while supplies last

The winner of Guides Choice Big Poppa giveaway is

Lonell Rodgers

stay tuned for NE wind…as Harvey would say..the Rest Of The Story

PS

On Saturday, October 3rd on north side of Montauk there will be a little ceremony for Jack Yee and after which his ashes will be scattered over his favorite place, Weakfish Rock. If you are in the area, please stop by to honor this extraordinary surfcaster

About a week ago I was out fishing one of my favorite spots. It’s an area that has given up dozens of big fish over the years and it will forever be a place that I keep near and dear. After fishing the first stop on this particular stretch of beach we made our way out to two of our favorite rocks, one of them I call the Corner Rock because it makes up the outer corner of a boulder field, and the other I call the Forty Rock because the first night I fished it, I caught a 40—both rocks have given up 40s since. I set up on the corner rock and my fishing partner, Dave Daluz was on the 40 Rock. This night had no fishy excitement in store.

The waves were mostly small but there were a few pesky 3-footers mixed in and when you’re standing on a rock that’s a foot below the surface, a 3-footer can be hard to shoulder through. I had been on the rock maybe 40 minutes and I’d had to battle maybe three of these waves. My needle wasn’t getting any love, so I decided to switch to a metal lip. I reeled up, ripped my bag open and turned on my light. After removing the needle from my line I felt a sudden impact. A wave had snuck up on me and now I was falling over backward with a needlefish clutched in my left hand, my rod in my right and my plug bag wide open! I landed kind of sideways but on my back, I plunged under the water, my butt hit the bottom—I’ll never know exactly how, but when I gathered myself, my bag was closed and no plugs were lost. This occurrence got me thinking about a night more than a decade ago—the night I first heard The Hiss.

It was late-June 2005 and I was fishing with my former fishing partner, Dave Parrillo. I know it was a Monday night because I had Tuesdays off back then and we used to fish through the night quite often on Mondays. The surf was downright sloppy and it was dark as hell. If faced with the same surf conditions today, I would probably stay home. But we were, clearly, hungry to fish.

There had been some very nice fish around and we were trying to find a place that we could fish safely while still reaching some deep water—we settled on a large offshore rock that was tall enough to protect us from the waves, it was wadeable on the backside and dropped off sharply on the front. As I remember it, the wind was not all that bad, the swell must have been caused by an offshore storm or maybe it was residual heave from winds the days before.

We stood on the beach and watched the waves—they didn’t look that bad—we peered out at the large rock we were hoping to fish from, it didn’t look bad either. Relieved that we had made a well-informed choice, we set off on the long wade and, when we arrived, we climbed up to the one of the high spots and made a closer assessment of the seas. The sky was low, black and cloudy; it could rain any minute—the ocean looked the same except for the glints of white that flashed as the waves turned over on the outer reef. There was no rhythm to the swell, no sets of waves really; it was just washing machine sloppy. After three minutes of watching we decided that it was safe and headed out to fish.

As we walked out I remember there was a geyser of water that keep exploding out of a small crevice in the rocks, every wave that passed was punctuated by what looked and sounded like a whale spout. We had brought a ton of eels with us that night, probably because of the ferocious eel bite we’d experienced a few nights before, and we had them in a large bucket instead of the soft cooler we usually carried. Dave set the bucket down on the rocks behind us; I grabbed a rag and got ready to grab an eel as I flipped on my headlamp. In that same moment, I heard it. It’s a sound that’s hard to describe, it’s almost like pouring a gallon of ice water into a searing hot pan, an explosive and crackling hiss! I swung my head around and saw a garland of white foam draped over a wave that was more than a foot taller than I was towering in the low-glow of my headlamp.  I yelled out, “Holy shit! Hold ON!” I felt Dave’s hand grasp my dry top as the massive wave smashed us. I heard the bucket clattering around on the rock as the overflowing water spilled over the edges. Within seconds, I heard it again and another mammoth wave washed over the front of the rock as Dave and I clung to each other like scared school children. “We have to get out of here, NOW!” I yelled as a third, but slightly smaller wave crested over the reef and flooded us out again. And then there was a fourth!

The first two waves were large enough the my hat was soaked and they hit hard enough that I think if Dave and I had not been close enough together to grab one another, we both would have been bowled over and who knows what would have happened when that second one came! We scurried around the rock like two guys in a silent film, trying to gather up our scattered gear before another set of rogues came along. Only when we were back on shore did we finally allow ourselves to laugh it off. In the moment, we were literally fearing for our lives, but on the way home laughter was the only way to celebrate not being swept off that rock into a wild sea.

I make light of the situation now, but the raw truth of it all is that the ocean has no empathy. Every year people are killed in situations like this one and, even though we all think we’re invincible, we’re not. These days, especially now that I have a little girl, I crosscheck multiple sources for wind and wave data; NOAA is my number one, but then there are those nights when you look and you just know it can’t be right. This is when I look at the more optimistic wave data that comes from the surfer app WindFinder. You have to take it with a grain of salt because it will give unrealistic data for back bays and rivers but this has more to do with the fact that the app includes “beach locations” that no one would even think of surfing—but for the open ocean, it’s often right on the money particularly on those tricky wind nights. Your last lines of defense are your eyes and your instincts, listen to them. Getting knocked off a rock by a 3-footer might be almost fun in the right situation, but being smashed into a reef by a 7-footer really could cost you everything. Learn from my mistake.