There’s a 14-year-old somewhere in Nassau County right now who just landed a schoolie striper under a bridge, GoPro strapped to his chest, hoodie up against the wind. By the time the sun sets, that catch will be sliced into a 20-second edit, layered with lo-fi beats, set to slow-motion release footage, and posted to TikTok with hashtags like #stripedbass #longislandfishing. It might get 3,000 views. It might get 300,000. Either way, it’ll potentially reach a heck of a lot of people. This is the world we’re fishing in now.
For those of us who grew up learning how to tie a uni knot from the back page of The Fisherman, or who spent more time in the tackle shop than on social media, it’s a cultural shift that can feel a little disorienting. But like it or not, the next generation of Long Island anglers is being raised on Reels – not spinning reels, but Instagram Reels. It’s fast, it’s flashy, and it’s changing the face of fishing in real time.
And honestly? That’s not entirely a bad thing.
The first time I saw a teenager breaking down how to properly cast a 3/4-ounce epoxy jig into blitzing albies – on TikTok – I had to watch again. He was 16, maybe 17, filming from the bow of a kayak in Huntington Bay, and he knew what he was talking about. He wasn’t just flexing a fish for likes. He was giving actual, thoughtful information. He even reminded viewers to “handle fish with wet hands and get them back fast.” Not bad for a vertical video under a minute long.
That’s the upside: kids are fishing again. Maybe not always in the way we did, but they’re out there. They’re exploring creeks and back bays, learning tides and moon phases, asking for Van Staals for Christmas instead of PlayStations. And they’re sharing what they learn, instantly, with a digital audience that spans far beyond Long Island.
On the other side of the coin anyone who’s spent time on the South Shore jetties lately can tell you, the rise of “content culture” in fishing has its downsides. You’ll see kids doing backflips off rocks between casts, drones buzzing overhead, and a few too many schoolie bass being held out of the water way too long for the perfect shot. There’s also the issue of “spot burning” – when a video shows just enough background for a hidden gem of a fishing hole to be overrun within a week. One viral clip can turn a quiet marsh into a parking lot circus overnight.
It’s easy to roll our eyes. To get frustrated. To mutter something about “kids these days.” But that’s not helping anyone – and it’s certainly not going to keep the next generation hooked. The truth is, these young anglers aren’t doing anything that different from what older generations did. They’re just doing it faster, louder, and with a phone in one hand. Prior generations took Polaroids. They shoot 4K. We passed down spots over coffee and handshakes. They drop GPS pins in group chats.
So instead of fighting the current trend, maybe it’s time we started going with it. If we want to protect the future of fishing on Long Island – and not just the fisheries, but the culture – we need to meet these young anglers where they are. We need to invite them into the fold, teach them the unwritten rules, and help them balance the rush of going viral with the slower, quieter lessons that fishing has always taught.
That means mentoring. That means hosting digital-friendly tournaments. That means showing up in the comments section once in a while, not just to critique, but to congratulate. And maybe – just maybe – it means filming a clip or two ourselves.
We’re not losing the culture. It’s just evolving. But if we pay attention, if we engage, and if we lead by example, I think this next wave of anglers could be one of the best things to happen to Long Island fishing in years.
So let them film. Let them edit. Let them hashtag. And if you see them out there, rods in hand, phone in the other – maybe give them a nod instead of a side-eye. They’re not ruining fishing. They just might be saving it.
