Old Vets and the Sea  – On The Water

Old Vets and the Sea  – On The Water
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My brother in-law, Ray, was raised in New Jersey with years of saltwater fishing experience, but surprisingly, he never fished for striped bass. Ray served in the Army in Vietnam and saw horrific front line combat duty.  I served a few years later, also during the Vietnam era, but in the Air Force as a combat nuclear missile launch officer and trainer. After the war, Ray ended up a part-time charter boat captain out of Charleston, SC. Now, nearing his 80th birthday, Ray is retired and lives on the Gulf side of Florida, where he enjoys fishing for grouper, king mackerel, snapper, and tarpon—just to name a few. I, on the other hand, nearing my 74th birthday, live in Pennsylvania. I bought a 28-foot cabin cruiser in 2006 and currently keep it moored in Barnegat Light. Soon after buying the boat, I began to learn about and started my journey of striped bass fishing. I was “hooked”.

After not seeing Ray for many years between his hip replacement, shoulder injuries for both of us, and my diagnosis with an incurable leukemia that was in remission with drugs, I figured time was running out to give Ray a chance to experience the joy of catching a striped bass. He had seen many a picture of mine, and my personal best at that point was 46 inches and weighed in at 36 pounds.  As a captain, my boat’s best was caught in 2021—a 48-inch bass that pegged the scale at over 50 pounds.

So, Ray made the two-day driving trip up north from Florida during the fall of 2023 for a week of fishing. Our trip would, unfortunately, be cut short by weather. However, we did catch, during three days of fishing, a number of stripers, including a few keepers between 28 and 31 inches and his personal best at 42 inches. We got to experience different striper fishing methods which included throwing topwater plugs, fishing live bunker amid large schools, and trolling bunker spoons or mojos. Like me, Ray was “hooked” on stripers, and to him, an over-slot bass (of which there were many) were considered a trophy fish. It was a great introduction to these fish for Ray.

Well, spring of 2024 was approaching and the spring migration of stripers would be starting on the New Jersey coast all in good time.  Learning from years of life experience, you take advantage of opportunities when they arrive. I sent an email to Ray asking if he would be interested in joining me for a spring striper run trip. He jumped at the invite enthusiastically. I told him we usually see the stripers arrive in some reasonable numbers when the ocean water starts to reach about 51 degrees, so we picked the week before Memorial Day in May, hoping the target water temperature would be achieved. 

The first day of fishing for these two old vets brought sunny weather with morning temperatures at 55 degrees, which was cool, especially for the Floridian.  But as we left Barnegat Inlet, we saw no other boats outside the bay, which I found amazing. We turned left and started to head north, watching for signs of bunker schools, birds, and/or other baitfish.  As we travelled parallel to Island Beach State Park, all I saw on the sonar were small schools of baitfish, but no bunker, and no birds. More worrisome, I wasn’t marking any stripers. I was worried I had Ray drive two days all the way from Florida only to be skunked. We stopped twice over small bait schools and dropped jigs, hoping to discover stripers that were invisible on sonar. Ultimately, we were unsuccessful, so we set out lures to troll, knowing from past experience that you can hook up without marking fish in the immediate area. We put out a bunker spoon and a mojo, but Ray is used to using deep-diving plugs for grouper, so he pulled out of his arsenal a gold-colored, deep-diving plug that he marked up with spots to resemble a bunker. We began exploring various depths, but the majority of what we saw were baitfish in the 25- to 30-foot depth range. Without a single boat in sight or any radio traffic all morning, it just added to the futile feeling. 

We trolled up just above the north end of IBSP, again, with only signs of small baitfish. The plan would have been to continue to head up to Seaside and possibly further to Ortley Beach, but we figured if fish are migrating from the south and we hadn’t seen any along the 10-plus-mile trip, we would head back south and hope for a better day tomorrow. We knew reports said the stripers had already begun to leave Chesapeake Bay for their northward migration. 

By early afternoon, we turned around and began heading back south, following a path that continued to only show those smaller baitfish.  It wasn’t long when, suddenly, Ray called out, “fish on!” It was on the rod with the deep-diving bunker plug.  It took a little longer than usual to bring in what we assumed must be a large striper. As we got the fish within sight, we confirmed it was indeed a big bass. Netting the fish was a challenge. There was no way the two of us could even lift the fish up into the boat.  I was fortunate to have a swim deck and transom door on the boat, so we were able to lift the fish onto the swim deck and then eventually onto the deck. We quickly unhooked the fish, took a measurement and a picture, and then returned this magnificent striper back to the ocean.  The adrenaline flow in that moment was at an all time high. What followed was exhaustion. This trophy bass was 51 inches long and by the charts, would have weighed just about 60 pounds! There was no way we could have safely weighed this fish after the exertion it took to land and return her to the water. These two old vets could not believe what just happened—we had landed a fish of a lifetime! 

Ray smiles with his 51-inch striper before we put her back in the water to fight another day.

After gathering ourselves, still in awe of the memory we just created, we began the journey back to port. We had accomplished and exceeded the mission we set out to accomplish: catching a once-in-a-lifetime fish. A fish that made Ray’s trip north to New Jersey more than worthwhile. 

With time, the adrenaline rush waned as we continued back to port. Eventually, we put out a bunker spoon and the same plug, with expectations being that we could not top today’s already remarkable experience.  It was about 20 minutes into the slow troll home, when Ray once again yelled out, “fish on!” This time, I took the rod that had the bunker spoon on and engaged the fish. I could tell that this, too, was a sizable striper.

As we brought the fish to the boat, we struggled just as we did with Ray’s striper, to get it into the net and onto the deck. What astonished us even more was the measurement of this fish—exactly 51 inches! This was the impossible dream; what were the odds?  We took a second measurement out of pure disbelief. It was clearly 51 inches. Being blessed to have caught two magnificent creatures on a day that we were about to give up on, we quickly and safely returned this fish back to the sea. Having landed this second fish, Ray and I were totally spent. We pulled our lines and called it a day after one of the best experiences striped bass fishermen can have. 

The next day, my friend Howard from PA joined Ray and me for another outing. Prior to yesterday’s trip, Howard held my boat’s best catch—a 48-inch striper that weighed over 50 pounds and maxed out my scale. 

This time, we started fishing a little later in the morning. We left Barnegat Inlet, again, without another boat in sight and radio silence.  The weather was sunny and cool with calm seas. We figured the best course of action would be to use the same tactic that worked for us the day before. Again, we did not see any bunker schools on the surface or on sonar, only small bait schools in the same 20- to 30-foot depth range, and no large fish. So we started a slow troll north out of the inlet, varying the depth to see if anything was hanging out deep. There wasn’t, so we just continued trolling to the north end of Island Beach State Park, with no signs of any stripers. It was early afternoon, and by that time, we figured yesterday’s catches were a random stroke of luck.

Only moments after we began the return to port, Howard yelled out, “fish on!” As the day’s guest, it was his turn to reel in the fish that hit the deep-diving plug—the same lure Ray caught his fish on the day before.  Once again, as the fish approached the boat, we could tell it was a massive striper. We netted and brought the fish on board, and rejoiced in the remarkable luck we had over these two days.  The fish was a hefty 48 inches, but we did not try to weigh it; our desire was to get this fish back into the water as quickly and safely as possible.  We also knew the scale would most likely max out at 50 pounds, like Howard’s prior striper. With this fish, he tied his personal best once again. We fished a good part of the afternoon, continuing the troll back to port. Eventually, we had another “fish on!” and Ray took this one since, again, it was on his deep-diving bunker plug. Unfortunately, as he was bringing it in, the fish got off.  We can only imagine what size that one would have been. No matter. The second day of fishing ended with yet another personal-best striped bass. 

Days three and four were just Ray and I, and we were gifted two days of good weather once again. On day 3 we decided to follow our game plan from the previous two days. This time, a commercial boat out of Barnegat Light was fishing for bunker, but it was the only other boat in sight.  

Day four was a little different. We still had good weather and relatively calm seas, but shortly after we left the inlet and began heading north, we saw some signs of bird life. Nearby, we could see bunker pods lightly breaking the surface. We stopped and did some snag and swap, switching our snagged bunker to circle hooks per the regulations. But, after fishing with no success, the bunker school eventually moved on. We were unsuccessful in connecting with a striper on this last day of fishing, but we were not at all disappointed with our 4-day journey. 

There are a few lessons learned during these trips that I have reflected on and will share with other fishermen. 

1. If you have the chance to go fishing – DO IT!  You shouldn’t wait for fishing reports to tell you what happened – go make the reports.  The lack of boats fishing on very fishable days after the migration had started, was surprising. I wish the same success we had for every striper fisherman. 

2. You are never “too old” to fish.  It may be more difficult to do with age, so, if you can: help an elder, someone with a handicap, or a veteran (as a thank you for their service). You just may help them make a lifetime memory. 

3. Since these trips, I have added deep-diving, bunker-patterned plugs to my arsenal. I sent Ray home to Florida with a few bunker spoons—which he had not seen before this trip— to try for grouper.  They didn’t respond positively, but at least he tried. The lesson here: don’t be afraid to try something new. 

4. While the restrictions on stripers has severely limited the taking of fish for the dinner table, it is still a remarkable and revered trophy fish that will hopefully, through conservation efforts, rebound as it did after the 80’s.

One of my favorite quotes, as I look back through almost a lifetime of fishing, is: “The charm of fishing is that it is the pursuit of what is elusive but attainable, a perpetual series of occasions for hope.”  – John Buchan  

Source: https://onthewater.com/old-vets-and-the-sea

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