Cuttyhunk Chronicles Part 5

And there we were…last day at Cuttyhunk. We caught few small fish, other than Tommy’s 20 on the first night, we didn’t have much to celebrate. I call it the curse of rigged eel for me. When you stick with rigged eels and large fish are in the area, you have a pretty good chance of having a night of your life while you friends pluck out occasional teen size fish on plugs. But when mostly small fish are around, your rigged eels often ends up being ignored.

We had a big slab of fillet mignon slated for diner with corn and all the works. But it was only 11 am. No one was really in the mood for another nap but no one was in the mood to venture outside either as heat was still oppressive. Tommy declared he wanted to go to Churches to make a few casts to make a day go by. That and the fact he has never been to Churches before.

Churches beach is located on the “wrong” side of the island, on the back side, a place that I only fish when desperate or when the conditions force me. Nothing wrong with the place, it has plenty of deep water and large rocks, and from what I have heard, plenty of big fish have been landed there over the years. It’s just that I preferred the south side. I told Tommy I will take him there and then return back to the house and sit in shade. Ray said he would go but he would not take a rod. Rob said might as well take a rod and a plug, but not plug bag or belt.

So there we were, four guys, one camera, two rods and two plugs and one pair of pliers in someone’s pocket. No leaders, no scales, no bags or Korkers. Hell, at least the rest of them had shoes, I had flip flops on. We walked through the town and onto the backside of it, to Churches beach. We got off the paved road and onto the beach. I figured since I was already there might as well take few shots with my  Nikon. That is if I don’t kill myself or break the camera in flip flops.

The three of them were walking west along the rock and I followed about 10 feet behind. I looked at the water about two hundred yards out and said, “why is that? looked like the water was washing over a HUGE rock”. Except there are no rocks that far offshore and there was no wind of waves. Then the water boiled up and it looked like someone tossed a Fiat 5000 into the water minus JLo. “Its tuna!” Ray yelled and for all I knew it could have been. For a week already we been getting reports that the harbor was loaded with adult bunker but no one has seen any bunker outside the harbor.

Tommy quickly got onto the flat rock and cast a Yo-Zuri Surface Cruiser about fifty yards short of a boil that now dissipated. One, two ,three whips of the rod and fish exploded on it.

“Bluefish” Tommy declared as he pumped the fish in. Few moments latter he exclaimed “Its got stripes!” and he slid a teen size striper onto the rocks.

Rob was hooked up to on the same lure and was guiding his striper about the same size trough the boulder field.

There was a house located right on top of the short hill underneath where we fishing. The owners have gathered up on the top and watched the boys catch fish. One of them remarked that they never seen anything like it and I said to myself, my neither. I never seen  fish this aggressive on the rocks of Montauk without ten guys appearing out of nowhere and getting in on the bite.

Tommy released his fish and made another long cast. All three of them, Ray, Tommy and Rob were exceptional casters. Might be the three best casters I have ever fish with. If I get half of the distance they get, I am tickled pink. I have no idea what was going trough Ray’s head as he sat on the rock and gave advice and encouragement but I am pretty sure he wished he brought his rod. But the walk back was soooo long

Tommy was working the pencil popper when he struck gold. It is hard to tell how big the fish is when you first hook it. But then the drag starts to peel…and rod started to bend….

and then you make this face. You know what you have on is not regular fish

Take a look at the angle to the water. This cow was hooked more than hundred yards out and it was peeling drag like he was hooked into a boat. And then the line…went limp. The only plug Tommy brought with him was gone. And probably his best fish ever along with it.

But like they say in those late night infomercial, “But wait…there is more!!!”. Because Rob was smart to bring a spare Super Strike Popper with him. Since Tommy did not have a leader, he tied it direct. I am not sure if he landed a fish of two , I think he did, it’s kind of hard to keep track. I believe Ray made few casts with Rob’s rod and landed some fish.

Then Tommy set up on the fish and the plug was gone…again.

Now we were left with one rod, one plug, and four guys. No one was willing to go back to the house, a long walk over the big hill in a midday sun. By this time it was 1PM and sun was as strong as it can be. I was fine in flip-flops and camera, I had no desire to go back. The three of them were alternating with one rod. First Rob nailed this beauty

then he gave Ray the rod and this is what Ray nailed on his first cast.

I think Tommy got a fish and then back to Rob who kept picking fish with his monstrous casts that landed in Rhode Island. Tommy kept telling me to make a cast but I had flip flops on and no tape for my finger. Rob made a cast for me and gave me the rod but I was too preoccupied with pictures that I worked the plug too fast and handed over to him. More on not fishing during blitz at later date. I was perfectly happy being a spectator

Fortunately we were able to hold onto Rob’s last plug and eventually the tide slacked off and I am going to guess the fish spread out. They decided right then and there that they were going to come back here and fish the nighttime. I was noncommittal at this point. I would prefer to give one more shot to south side but I was a bit tired of fishing alone. I said I will make a decision later.

We stopped by the general store on the way back and got ourselves some well deserved ice cream. Within an hour Chef Tommy was grilling filet mignon and we ate like kings. One more night for me to maybe experience a full potential of this place as I often did over the years. Like Manny said a day before “One night in Cutty can be better that a season back home when it’s on”…and it definitely looked like the fish were perking up. We had a southwest wind, which came over our back this afternoon, making that “bunker feeds into the wind” very plausible. But now it was a time for a nap. I haven’t been in the bathroom in 5 days and I felt like a summo wrestler. About the only thing I could do to get myself comfortable is unzip my pants and lay down. Those Sam Adams bruskies were making me woozy. I drank more beer on this trip then I did in a last year. Four to be exact…lol. What can I tell you, I am not much of a drinker.

Last night coming up…

[issuu width=550 height=213 shareMenuEnabled=false showHtmlLink=false printButtonEnabled=false shareButtonEnabled=false searchButtonEnabled=false backgroundColor=%23222222 documentId=120506203543-c51ab24feba744638c866c3e3d74b3c4 name=issue13 username=surfcasters_journal tag=fishing unit=px v=2]