The Productive Grounds East of the Gateway National Park System
Got the call Friday to suit up as 3rd mate (first class) to hit our nearshore waters for Saturday (8/8). *Target: *The Summer Flounder. *Minimum Size: *18 inches or above. *Cap called me beforehand to review the roster of prospective anglers. *After the reading, it was clear he wanted me to be on my "A-Game" because Cap's beloved, the Admiral, and the gifted Swami of the Surf (aka: *"SOTS") were both going to try their hand on the soft wet structure. *While Cap always likes the way I keep the ice cold, he needed me to step up this trip. *You see folks, proper rigging is an often overlooked task in this pursuit of ours. *Swivels, snaps, sinkers, leaders and hooks all have a way of going together in a precise order. *Regardless, we steamed out of our no wake zone against a prevailing noreasterly breeze. *The success of our last trip was still wafting throughout the cabin and I could feel the pressure to produce piercing the gunwales given the high profile nature of our guests. When the engines throttled down, we felt ourselves ebbing into low slack and it was soon game on for the Admiral as she caught flounder like she was a guest lecturer at an off season Raritan Bay doormat seminar. *At one point, we even found ourselves in the middle of a blitz to end all blitzes of cocktail sized bluefish chasing so-called "rain bait." *(FYI, when these prolific bait fish land after porpoising out of the water, it appears that precipitation is hitting the surface despite bluebird conditions....to the untrained eye that is.) * Needless to say, I had my work cut out for me and my tired hands are feeling it today. *But, with those kind of results Cap had a smile on his face, dialed up the Wilburys and we were headed back to the dock by noon with a lumberjack's handful of single-footed doormats. Until next time, tight lines.
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