Sorry I 'haven't blogged and taken the time to post fotos or a report lately. It's like what they say about fishermen having that passion for life and it never leaving them.
Are there times like this for yall where you can't get on the water. The bite from any species doesn't feel fresh and the last time someone asked you when you went fishing you really had to think....
I dream of the lack of sleep I will lose over being excited to fish. That never leaves me and neither does the drone of the alarm I set for myself and others so that we can make good to our spot before the tide brings in the bounty.
I dream of the night drive from spot to spot while on the NJ coast and at the same time deciding the next best location based on tide, location, water clarity, temperature, wind, and your gear. The mule of your trucks engine turning off while you dismiss the beam of your headlights in order not to spook the fish and other fishermen.
I dream of that sod smell while trekking through head high brush and hearing the crackle of clam shells underneath my boots. The greeting from fellow backbay angler that has been putting time into the spot for the last hour and is still as excited to see my arrival as when he first arrived.
I dream about that long walk on the jetty to the first sandbar casting access spot...that smell of salt, sand, and slime between the rocks when landing the night striper... The lonesome walk on the beach out front when you know there are fish out there but the tide is slack, the companionship of your buddy walking up and saying dude, fish are not biting but man, it's a beautiful night.
I dream about it, jigging and setting the hook on the upswing after said species has my lure for it's taking...
I dream about it, stepping on board before that first grey light and that rush it gives you when you prepare your gear for the day of fishing...That irresistible excitement when the engines roar up and you know it's time to leave the slip.
I dream of the smell of menhadden oil, makeral, butterfish, & bluefish being chopped up ready to be part of the chumslick that will attract the greysuit at the Misty blue. That consistent rock of the boat before the drag clicker sets off on a terrible run. Nothing beats that international when it comes to gifting adrenaline.
I dream about that sail back into the marina and the warm autumn glow of the sky around us as the flags are flown and the wake is slowed right before we are greeted back by smiling faces and outstretched voices of delight.
Above all else, I miss the hunt of whats on the other side of the next wave, the experience of it all that lets me know I have been like others, one man that is fully appreciative of the beauty and awe of our
great earth and the lifetime experience we not only long for but indeed chase after.
Thank you for reading.
***
Are there times like this for yall where you can't get on the water. The bite from any species doesn't feel fresh and the last time someone asked you when you went fishing you really had to think....
I dream of the lack of sleep I will lose over being excited to fish. That never leaves me and neither does the drone of the alarm I set for myself and others so that we can make good to our spot before the tide brings in the bounty.
I dream of the night drive from spot to spot while on the NJ coast and at the same time deciding the next best location based on tide, location, water clarity, temperature, wind, and your gear. The mule of your trucks engine turning off while you dismiss the beam of your headlights in order not to spook the fish and other fishermen.
I dream of that sod smell while trekking through head high brush and hearing the crackle of clam shells underneath my boots. The greeting from fellow backbay angler that has been putting time into the spot for the last hour and is still as excited to see my arrival as when he first arrived.
I dream about that long walk on the jetty to the first sandbar casting access spot...that smell of salt, sand, and slime between the rocks when landing the night striper... The lonesome walk on the beach out front when you know there are fish out there but the tide is slack, the companionship of your buddy walking up and saying dude, fish are not biting but man, it's a beautiful night.
I dream about it, jigging and setting the hook on the upswing after said species has my lure for it's taking...
I dream about it, stepping on board before that first grey light and that rush it gives you when you prepare your gear for the day of fishing...That irresistible excitement when the engines roar up and you know it's time to leave the slip.
I dream of the smell of menhadden oil, makeral, butterfish, & bluefish being chopped up ready to be part of the chumslick that will attract the greysuit at the Misty blue. That consistent rock of the boat before the drag clicker sets off on a terrible run. Nothing beats that international when it comes to gifting adrenaline.
I dream about that sail back into the marina and the warm autumn glow of the sky around us as the flags are flown and the wake is slowed right before we are greeted back by smiling faces and outstretched voices of delight.
Above all else, I miss the hunt of whats on the other side of the next wave, the experience of it all that lets me know I have been like others, one man that is fully appreciative of the beauty and awe of our
great earth and the lifetime experience we not only long for but indeed chase after.
Thank you for reading.
***
No comments:
Post a Comment