Some days you need the big guns.
Some shaky footage from fishing for false albacore last week. [UPDATE: Reloaded the video after trying to take some of the shakiness out. It was making me sick.] [NOTE: For everyone asking, the rod is a Helios prototype, which is why it has a different reel seat and coloration than what’s in production. And, yes, that is floating line. I had on full sink, but when I hooked my first one the line didn’t clear properly and I got a ridiculous bird’s nest pulled tight by a fleeing albie. I didn’t want to miss out while untangling, so I switched out to the floating–all I had–super quick just to get a fly in the mix. Normally I use full sink. The backing is gel…
Match the hatch.
…Faith in humanity, restored.
The Cold Spring Harbor Fish Hatchery, the place responsible for introducing brown trout to the U.S., celebrated its 125th Anniversary this weekend. To celebrate, they threw a party and invited Joyce Dewitt, Erik Estrada, and Adam West. I’d give up 30 days of fly fishing to talk brook trout with Ponch.
I am covered in jelly fish stings and sea lice bites, but yesterday made it all worth it. I won’t pretend to be a great surfer, or even a good one, but–after a 20-year absence–I bought a board at the tail end of last season and worked hard this summer getting back into it. Hanna sent its first warnings to Long Island yesterday in the form of morning beach closures. The early waves rolled in as solid overhead sets. For me at least, they were big waves. All summer I’d put in my time on two-footers. In Northeast fly fishing terms, it’s like spending the season targeting bluefish and then finally getting a shot at false albacore. (Not meant as a slight; I love…
…There’s a manatee in Stony Brook.* *[Editor's Note: Chill out, angry Vegans, it's a joke.]
Reading Peter Matthiessen’s book from 1986 on the lost way of life of Long Island’s south shore surfmen and baymen. I’m a huge fan of Matthiessen’s trilogy of historical novels on frontier Florida, particularly Killing Mr. Watson and Bone by Bone. This book is so far a great read about a culture now buried under glitterati and horrible traffic every summer.