This report is being filed from Oberengstringen, a suburb of Zurich in Switzerland, so right up front, let me attach the disclaimer that I have not seen anything resembling saltwater since last Sunday. I return to Cape Cod next Wednesday, so I beg your forgiveness for no insights or observations based on first-hand experience.
I thought I would open up this week's report by extolling the virtues of June fishing on the Cape & Islands based on the last eight years of FishWire reports for the region. This is, to get to the point, one of the fishiest months of the season, rivalled only by September or October in terms of possibilities, density of fish, and their size. The largest striper I ever caught was caught in June -- this same week in fact -- ten years ago off of South Beach in Chatham. This was a summer or two after the beach breach that completely changed the topography and there
was a fantastic bar about a 20 minute walk south of the lighthouse parking lot that was delivering hordes of 36"+ fish on every dawn for two weeks. Dozens of fishermen were lined up, a respectable distance separating them, fishing sandeels for the most part. It was amazing to watch, in the light of the false dawn, as a big school would move around the bar to enter Pleasant Bay and one by one, like dominoes falling, the rods would bend over and the fight would be on. There is no suspense to compare with watching the guy to your far right get hit and yell "Fish On!" then the guy to his left, and the guy to his left, until the guy to your right was onto the fight, and you knew, just knew that you were next.
I went out with the flyrod one morning and sought an unfished section of beach because I wasn't the world's best caster and I didn't want to be obnoxious in the midst of the guys fishing fresh sandeels on spinning rods. I was fishing a sinking shooting head on a Scott 10-weight with a Valentine reel -- the Pflueger style, not the planatary drive -- and a whopping big Ultra Deceiver tied by Chris Windram, a fly-tyer well known in these waters.
I was on the water around three in the morning -- dawn comes early this time of year -- and after about 45 minutes of casting and untangling my shooting line -- I got whacked hard. Really hard. So hard I almost lost the rod. The fish ran like you read about, straight for Portugal, and the drag on that Valentine (a great reel which I still fish by the way) wasn't anything like the big smooth cork ones you get with a top of the line Tibor. I tried to get control of the situation but the reel's knob nailed my knuckle so hard it began to bleed pretty freely. There was no taming the fish. I was "reel-shy" thanks to my wounded hand, and it ran and ran. Finally I started to get some line back. And it ran again. Etc. Etc.
Finally I recovered enough line to get the shooting head back through the tip of the rod. Then the fish stopped. It went dead. It didn't run, it didn't swim left or right, it just lay there. A big heavy weight that I couldn't gain an inch on, but which wasn't taking any line either.
After about ten minutes of this standoff I started to wonder if I had snagged a log, a seal, the bottom ... anything but a fish. Another fisherman came over and asked what was up. I asked his advice and said, walk towards it. I wasn't too keen to walk into the surf in waders, so I stood my place and waited.
Long story short. The sun started to come up and things began to come into focus. I squinted out into the ocean and after a while I could follow my line down into the water. There, on an exposed sandbar was a 40 pound striper. Beached and dead. I had fought it high and dry but couldn't drag it off the bar back into the water.
I was beside myself with excitement and waded out to see my prize. It was a true trophy but I still felt like a total idiot for standing there in the darkness fighting a dead fish for half-an-hour.
I took the fish home but couldn't bring myself to cut it up. So off it went to Falmouth to the famed taxidermist, Wally Brown, and today the fish hangs in my kitchen, the best striper I've ever caught on the fly or by any other method since.
Reel-Time News:
Monomoy Conclave: Tomorrow is the big day and I know all sorts of logistics, plans and advice have been imparted in the forum.
Until next week, please keep the reports coming.