Most of you are probably familiar with my penchant for night fishing, especially in the Buzzard's Bay area. Tonight I had the itch real bad mostly because I spent the better part of dusk down at the local pond with my son drowning worms and skipping stones. I love doing that with him, but the tease of psuedo fishing kind of gets to me and I usually end up making a bee line for the salt as soon as he nods off.
The tides really stink this week, so I thought I'd try something different. I headed down to Electric Ave. beach but instead of fishing my customary spot that only produces on an outgoing, I decided to wander down beyond the beach and give the deep holes by the rocks a try.
Fishing was VERY slow and I knew it would be a one fish night - if that. A lot of bait around but damn little harassing it. After a little warm up with various patterns I lack confidence in, I decided to take out the secret weapon - my homespun beachglass silverside. This fly has the good fish stink on it - you know, the scent of past successes. My fish radar was going off as I tied it on.
On my second cast with this black beauty, I felt a massive tug. With a solid pull I set the hook deep. I have this fish and I have him good. My line starts peeling out of my basket and my heart starts doing flips. I'm psyched. This is a very decent fish, perhaps the best of the season to date. I'm thinking first keeper of the year and then some. I settle down after a bit and begin to concentrate on getting this fish on the reel so the drag can do it's work.
With only a few feet of line left before I can accomplish this, a little alarm goes off in the back of my head as the fish makes a burning run: I forgot to change the 10 lb. fluro tippet I had tied on for the Monomoy clave! This fish is going to hit the reel and be history. Sure enough, one good tug as the line hit the spool and the rod goes dead. I've lost my best fish of the season and the best producing fly I've ever tyed. Examining the broken tippet, all I can do is chastise myself for foolish behavior.
Despite the outcome, this was the best experience on the water for me this year. Two seasons ago, I never would have thought it was possible to have a great time after losing your one and only fish for the evening. Either it's a by-product of getting older or I'm actually maturing as an angler.... Probably more like I'm getting better at rationalizing my idiocy. (That fish made straight for GregO's anchor in Bass River
tight lines everyone (but not TOO tight),