Rugged

Back in June, I was into a bite that reminded me- yet again- how rugged the striped bass really is.

That night, there was a pretty good surf rolling, dropping thunder on the first slope, and blasting white water 50-feet up the beach. It was, frankly, exceedingly irritating. One of those nights my wetsuit gets filled with sand from the ankles-up, and I question if the wetsuit really is the best tool for the job.

It was a rare tide where the surf was up, but the wind had laid flat. It felt electric and I just knew it in my soul that there would be fish. I had no trouble hurling my plugs beyond those dark, heavy breakers- which was priority number-one. I just had to get it behind the waves, and the fish would be there.

Except they weren’t.

Instead, they were in the detonating surf, right in the furry of those five-foot slabs. They were on the inside, where the water would go from yin to yang, throwing a maelstrom of frothy white water. I’m sure they were avoiding those waves dropping directly on their dorsals, but I’m not sure how. It’s hard for me to fathom. Were they deftly weaving in and out, always staying clear of the crest? Were they on the shallow side, beach side, of the break, taking a wall of laminar flow to the snout? It was hard for me to imagine.

But in that moment, I also thought of tarpon. I love tarpon. I have made this very clear on the podcast- if we had them, Surfcaster’s Journal would have a sister publication The Tarpon Chronicles©. And while they are known to mix it up in the waves and current, I have a very hard time imagining them holding steady in that wicked surf, taking that pounding, and all to hunt sand eels and squid.

Striped bass aren’t just tough, they’re exceptionally tough. Which is why if you just keep their heads in the water and let them go in a reasonable amount of time (it seems something in the order of 20-40 seconds is always sufficient, less when warm water, more when cold water- but just stick to something around 30 or less) they’re going to survive. I even caught one the other day for the very first time that had an exploded side of it’s face, missing an eye. I’ve asked many times if anyone has ever caught a fish over 40-inches with one eye, and while this fish wasn’t, it was the closest I’ve come yet by far.

And it fought like a freight train.

If you missed this weeks listener question episode, it’s live right now, and look for the second part of that conversation coming monday!