The Thanksgiving Blitz of 2024

“November is the brand new October.” If you happen to’re a striped bass fisherman from New York or New Jersey, you’ve heard this phrase uttered in bait and deal with retailers, seashore parking tons, or amongst associates throughout an evening tide. Over the previous few years, from the South Shore of Lengthy Island to Northern New Jersey, the autumn run of striped bass appears to peak through the eleventh hour. Gentle water temperatures (by November requirements) have discovered acres of bunker parading west and south alongside the sand seashores close to the Massive Apple. There’s no telling for sure when the ultimate wave of bass will transfer by way of your space, however final week, with a powerful easterly blow and pouring rain forecasted for Thursday morning, surfcasters on Lengthy Island took discover and hit the sand with excessive hopes for some motion in textbook fall run circumstances.

Our plan fell into place throughout my voyage throughout Lengthy Island Sound late on Wednesday evening. The group textual content Nick Cherkas despatched to me and Sean Conway learn, “Stay up for seeing you guys tomorrow. I plan on being within the lot by 7 a.m.” The December new moon was approaching, we’d have the ebb tide on our aspect at dawn, and a storm entrance transferring in from offshore. All the pieces was lining up completely.

Within the car parking zone, it was raining sideways. I took the ultimate swig of a sugar-free Purple Bull and commenced to strap up my waders as Nick pulled in. Sean was operating somewhat behind, which was to be anticipated since he had an extended drive from the japanese North Shore, so Nick and I started the hike out to our first spot. We couldn’t have been strolling for greater than 5 minutes when, within the distance, a frantic scene started to unfold. “Do you see that?” I excitedly exclaimed with my rod tip pointed towards a black cloud of low-flying gulls and gannets instantly forward. Our leisurely stroll become a hustled speedwalk, and as we reached the seashore, a lineup of three or 4 surfcasters to our proper had been tight to fish. Just a few drenched anglers had been already heading in with their slot fish slung over one shoulder and surf rod over the opposite. There have been a handful of heart consoles braving the circumstances, every chasing their very own wolf pack of surface-feeding stripers across the inlet, whereas 100 yards to our left, bunker had been being pinned to shore in lower than 2 toes of water. I’m not an NFL participant, so I don’t know what it feels prefer to stroll out of the locker room tunnel through the Tremendous Bowl, however I’d think about the adrenaline rush feels one thing like this second. “That is what we play for.”

Given the circumstances and the presence of grownup bunker, we packed massive plugs and lures able to chopping by way of sturdy headwinds and digging into tough surf. My single-tube ODM bag carried a choice of yellow and white bottle plugs, darters, needlefish, steel lips, bucktails, paddletails, and minnow plugs. Nick and I clipped on minnow plugs to begin. The inner weight-transfer programs of lures like Magazine Darters, SP Minnows, and Shimano Present Sniper jerkbaits, would assist us to achieve the fish now boiling 60 yards out in entrance of us. We launched our first two casts, and inside just a few cranks of the reel deal with, we each got here tight and landed over-slot stripers. I let loose just a few hoots and hollers that had been all however muted by the 35-knot wind and pelting rain. Two casts later, I bought bit once more and misplaced the fish, together with my whole chief. “Bluefish”, I murmured by way of clenched enamel. I retied, and once more, my 5-inch NLBN paddletail was stolen on the primary forged. In hindsight, we didn’t see a single bluefish caught all day, and my guides weren’t chipped, so I donated two lures attributable to my very own shoddy knot tying, which I attributed to already-numb, moist fingers and being overly wanting to get again on the market. “The place the hell is Sean!?” Nick shouted as we every landed and launched one other fish earlier than deciding to press nearer to the inlet.

Nick and I discovered fish feeding from the inlet to the seashore entrance early on, all of the whereas, praying the chunk would final lengthy sufficient to share it with Sean.

It didn’t take lengthy to understand a transfer to the inlet was a good selection. It was a funnel for all of the bunker that had been being flushed out of the close by backwaters, and the water was way more turbulent. We found Sean had already made his method to the inlet, the place a lineup of 10 to fifteen surfcasters had been clambering over the jetty rocks (and one another) to land their fish. The swell was breaking proper on the jetty tip, sending partitions of sea spray over the heads of anglers fishing the outgoing rip. The three of us secured a spot alongside the within, the place a shoal had fashioned attributable to storms like this one depositing a great deal of sand into the inlet. Because the tide continued to drop, waves broke over the sting of the bar and despatched blankets of white water dashing in parallel to the jetty. Any lure that landed within the frothy, tumbling wash got here again within the lip of a striper. By now, there was extra standing room on the bar, and lots of the casters from the jetty joined us on the base of the rocks to occupy that open area and fish the white water.

Nick Cherkas smiles with one among many wholesome bass he pulled from the wash that morning.

Surprisingly, there have been just one or two tangles the whole time. The etiquette exhibited by this group was a pleasing shock; we silently labored out a casting rhythm utilizing a nod or thumbs as much as let the subsequent caster know they had been good to go with out crossing traces. By way of the wind-driven rain, the one audible sounds had been high-pitched cackles and slipping drags. Guys had been catching on something and every part—surface-swimming steel lips, glidebaits, minnow plugs, poppers, you identify it, it was getting bit.

I needed in on the topwater motion, though poppers weren’t being vacuumed as much as the identical diploma as subsurface lures. However after deep hooking a slot-size striper with a white, 2-ounce Wally’s Pencil Popper, I made a decision the very last thing I needed to be coping with in these circumstances had been treble hooks. As a substitute, I clipped on a white Yo-Zuri Hydro Minnow LC armed with two 5/0 VMC inline single hooks. With restricted area to land our fish, and waves crashing into us within the course of, this was the best transfer. It made each dealing with and releasing the fish simpler, faster, and safer. The plug change got here on the proper time, as a result of moments later, mid-sized bunker had been swimming proper between our legs, looking for sanctuary from their aggressors that had been stacked just a few yards out from the jetty. This wave of fish consisted of barely bigger bass, round 16 to 18 kilos, and so they had been blowing bunker filter of the water. Any forged positioned on the bottom of a furling wave was acknowledged by a hungry teen-class striper. Sean, Nick and I’d have been completely content material catching a pair schoolies on Thanksgiving… however persistently catching fish of this class, this late within the fall run, was a blessing. Nonetheless, getting them again within the water rapidly was my primary concern, and the treble hooks weren’t serving to that trigger.

Even with a half-digested grownup bunker in its gullet, this striper took a swipe at a 7-inch Hydro Minnow. The only hooks had been a life saver, permitting for fast releases and minimal injury to the fish. (Photograph by Nick Cherkas)

By now, it was late morning and the wind had shifted from a stiff east blow to southeast, which introduced larger surf and created a pronounced bow in every of our traces, making it difficult to remain in touch with our lures. At one level, I turned to launch a fish, and an incoming wave smacked me within the chest, soaking my heat layers and quickly lifting me off me toes. I shivered it off, laughed, and, within the curiosity of soldiering on with single hooks, determined it was bucktail o’clock. 5 casts of a white, 1-ounce Useless Reckoning Bucktail with an XL hackle introduced 5 fish handy, and Nick and Sean rapidly reached for the closest copy they had been carrying. What’s to not love a few good bucktail chunk? Subsequent to paddletails and swim shads, I feel a bucktail gives the purest, most direct connection that lure fishermen can have with a striper; there’s no swivels, break up rings, or exhausting plastic concerned, only a lead head and a hook shank. Our bucktails had been in a position to punch by way of the wind and decrease the bow in our traces, and the jigs had been continuously taken on the drop—we had been coming tight earlier than even selecting up all of the slack line from the forged. The three of us stood shoulder to shoulder with 8 different anglers and wailed on stripers from schoolie dimension to nearly 20 kilos till simply earlier than midday.

With extra fish than we may have presumably hoped for over the course of 4 hours, I pulled out my cellphone to snap just a few pictures of the melee nonetheless unfolding in entrance of us. Whether or not it was attributable to my uncooked, chafed thumbs or a beneficiant coating of salt water and fish slime, the iPhone’s heat-sensitive contact display screen didn’t reply effectively. However I nonetheless managed just a few good photographs.

Above, Nick Cherkas (@surfcasting_the_island) will get knocked round by waves after coming tight to a striper on a bucktail jig.

Striper mayhem on the jetty. At this level, many of the surfcasters had been lined up and fishing the whitewater behind us, aside from the few who had been discovering dependable motion from the rocks.

Sean Conway with a chunky bass that hit a Fatty Lures glider. That’s me within the background, reeling in another excuse to be grateful this yr. (Photograph by Nick Cherkas)

Because the wind shifted path, the surf stood a bit greater, the fish fed a bit decrease, and bucktails began producing good numbers of bass. (Photograph by Nick Cherkas)

Grateful for plentiful double-ups. (Photograph by Sean Conway)

Because it seems, the Thanksgiving Blitz of 2024 wasn’t particular to our location on Western Lengthy Island. I later realized, after chatting with household buddy and proprietor of Turtle Cove Deal with, Kenny Lucano, {that a} related blitz occurred concurrently out east close to Moriches. Kenny stated the bass he and associates had been catching had been on the smaller aspect, however nonetheless, it was a Thanksgiving morning for the books. Throughout Lengthy Island, these storm circumstances triggered stripers of all sizes to fatten up and feast with their kin earlier than it was time to go for dwelling. Paradoxically, 90% of Individuals would spend the remainder of the day doing the identical.

Like all good striper fishing story, this one ends with “we left them biting.” Again within the lot, Sean, Nick and I grinned ear to ear as we wished one another a contented Thanksgiving and parted methods to spend time with our households. Earlier than pulling off, I sat for a second in my truck, the place it was nearly uncomfortably heat and quiet. After hours of wooing, shouting, and whistling wind rapping in opposition to the hood of my jacket, the now mild pitter-patter of raindrops on the windshield was surprisingly deafening. If you happen to’ve ever left a loud live performance and jumped right into a taxi cab or an empty automobile on the LIRR, you’re conversant in this sound of uncomfortable silence. Simply then, “Gimme Stitches” by the Foo Fighters started to play over the automobile stereo; I cranked up the quantity, however the uncomfortable silence lingered. I feel it would keep on with me till someday within the early spring of 2025, when will probably be damaged solely by the sound of crashing surf, a slipping drag, or the WOOO! of an exuberant surfcaster.