Surfcasting is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re gonna get.
Once the summer season comes to a close, I open my arms and give local summer a nice embrace. Empty beaches, no traffic, and the opportunity to be that person to kick off the official fall striper run sums it up perfectly.
While resident stripers are available all summer long for those drifting sand fleas or plugging the night beaches, everyone waits for that great promise that the fall run has gifted Jersey Shore surfcasters with over the past few seasons; loaded beaches with miles of birds diving on frantic bunker fleeing the wolf pack of hungry buffalo stripers crusading their way south to their snowbird grounds.
This picturesque concept of what the fall run has become makes every angler hunger for their big catch, the one fish to trump all others, and the classic old salt story that comes with it.
On The Run
During the fall run, especially in New Jersey, we have been gifted with months of great fishing. Last season we had a splurge of fish in October feeding on adult bunker providing the boats their fair share of the bite while the surfcasters watched as most fish were just a bit out of range. Soon after those fish moved in – and moved in heavy – which enabled surfcasters, particularly along the Central and North Jersey coast, to catch them on everything from bucktails to pencil poppers.
After a quick stretch of quietness and an even quieter night bite (loose lips sink ships), more bait arrived and the bite kicked back into gear. Bunker of all sizes, from peanuts to adults, glistened on the surface so thick it seemed as if you could walk on top, their tail flaps ringing like a dinner bell for the striped bass ready to feast at the bunker buffet. Anglers never stopped fishing, driving their buggies on the beachfront, sharing intel to their buddies on patrol and that perseverance shined through. Soon fish after fish were being caught off the surf, personal bests and unfortunately some rods broken.
Following this surfcasting helter skelter that lasts past Thanksgiving, we transitioned into our classic sand eel bite. As the cold began to blanket our coast, many anglers decided to hang up the surf rods, but those who fought through snowy mornings were rewarded with a bite. I had great mornings on empty beaches fishing a simple sand eel soft plastic that is unfortunately discontinued, yet effective. If you can brave the cold, it certainly paid off; my thumbs were scarred for months following all those bites, but it was of course worth it.
These months and months of amazing fishing all have to start somewhere and with someone’s fish sounding that alarm.
That October Day
Everyone remembers the day they caught their biggest fish; it can happen when you least expect it. That was certainly the case for my “first alarm” striper in 2023. It was Tuesday, October 10th, one of those days in the fall when I always walk the beach after work to fish around and collect sea glass. The ocean was flat with light waves crashing down enough to identify the trough and cuts, but no visible life whatsoever. I was casting my old reliable bucktail, which is always the first thing I throw when I fish the beach to test the waters. I had the beach to myself which helps me find peace, an oxymoron of sorts given that I find fishing to be a stress reliever even while it can be extremely stressful working for a bite.
The light crashing waves and the sound of the Ghost song that I had stuck in my head kept me entertained as I walked north working my way up to a cut. At my seventh cast, I stopped to admire the sunset and snapped a camera pic, the timestamp of 5:47 p.m. Just 2 minutes later, 5:49 p.m., I was taking another picture, this time of my 9-foot surf rod bent with line running off the spool fast.
Everything happened so quickly within those 2 minutes between those two pictures. I had just cast my bucktail and was slowly reeling it back with a light jig to imitate a wounded baitfish. As it got closer in the trough I felt a snag; I was confused because there’s usually nothing to get snagged on as its sandy bottom. I thought it was maybe boat wreckage or some bit of debris so I lifted up my rod a bit to try and get a better feel, that’s when whatever I hooked took off. This fish was running fast, giving me a run for my money. The water temperature was still relatively warm so I thought it was a big stingray or maybe even a shark.
While fighting this fish, I scanned the beach and saw it was absolutely empty, figuring I might probably need some help if this was either a shark or a ray. Since they are closely related, and both packing weapons, I thought having an extra helping hand might be nice. During the battle, on one of the solid runs this fish made, I gave my friend Ray from Grumpys Tackle a call to let him know I was into something substantial; he was on the beach next to me 12 minutes. That’s about when I saw those glorious stripes in a wave and mumbled some words I can’t put in writing because my mom reads this magazine, too!
After one wave push I had this striper landed; I had no waders on so my blue leggings were soaked from the waves. I got her on the beach, and after being a bit out of breath and in shock I quickly got some pictures, and carried the fish back into the water. I went chest deep in basically swimming with the fish expecting after a fight like that, a revival was needed. However, she was ready to go once she touched her home, thriving and cutting through the water back on her journey. That striper was 49 inches long and had slight scoliosis which made her even more unique.
I’m not one to brag about size but this was the fish that many anglers dream of for all their years of fishing, and it didn’t take long for word of that “first alarm” striper to make the rounds, bringing droves of anglers to the surf.
I firmly believe that every dog will have their day. Every fisherman is out there to catch that “one fish” and it can happen if you just keep on fishing. I’m not a trophy hunter mind you, I’m just thankful to catch one fish on a trip and grateful to be able to get out there, especially given many folks don’t get that many chances to hit the beach. But just being outside, enjoying the fresh air and focusing on the waves crashing in front of you, you actually become a part of it; dare I say, you become one with the ocean.
Surfcasting is truly a labor of love, and putting that time in gets any angler more familiar with its patterns. But just remember, that big fish curveball can be thrown in when you least expect it. The amount of times where I’ve told myself “one last cast” and continued fishing for an additional hour is what keeps me going out there on the surf, keeps me coming back. Perseverance and patience is key to surf fishing; there will be fishless days but you have to keep the thought of “the one” in the back of your head because that spine breaking big fish will come when you least expect it.
My favorite quote from a very good friend and underground fishing legend is “don’t chase reports, make them” and I certainly did on October 10, 2023. I hope you’ll do the same.