It was October of 2004 and I was on my annual two week surfcasting adventure. It was towards the end of my vacation and I was fishing the dawn tide one morning. I was walking and fishing along a stretch of beach that had been very consistent with daily bass blitzes and while I saw quite a few other anglers early on, it had been a slow morning and everyone else had left. After three lackluster hours of casting, I headed back to my camper. I was taking a slow walk back and just before the trail that leads off the beach, I came across what appeared to be a brand new Van Staal plug bag sitting on a rock. Upon inspection of the contents I found all the plugs and bucktails had shiny hooks, which confirmed that the bag was new. I looked in all directions and there was no one in sight so I picked up the bag and headed back to my camper. I had breakfast and then drove to one of the tackle shops in town. I dropped the bag off and as I headed out the door of the shop the owner said my deed was good karma and should pay me dividends. I laughed at his suggestion and all I could say was, “I hope so.”
I was into the second week of my vacation and while I had caught quite a few fish I had landed nothing bigger than 20 pounds. On the afternoon of the same day I found the bag I received a report of bass from 25 to 35 pounds caught by a couple of friends the night before. I made plans to wetsuit the same general area while rigging some eels and packing my plug bag. My friends had caught their fish around 11 p.m. and the first game of the ALCS between the Yankees and Red Sox was happening so I figured most guys would be staying in to watch the game. Sundown was around 6:15 p.m. this time of the year and I decided to get into the water shortly after that. With the ball game on I figured I’d have the area to myself unless there were other Met fans around (Yes, I’m a Met fan.) and when I did arrive at my spot around 7pm there was no one else there. This area has a couple of big, flat submerged rocks a short swim off the beach. Depending on conditions and the stage of the tide it can be difficult to find a good casting platform. On this night the tide was almost high when I entered the water, so it took me almost 30 minutes to find my rock. I started by casting a darter and managed a small bass almost immediately. I was reluctant to change over to the rigged eel as they sink and can get snagged on the bottom very easily if you’re getting pushed off the rock. When I first got on my rock, I was getting knocked off by waves every so often. Getting back on the rock is easier if what you are casting floats, which is why I started off with the darter. Anyway, as the tide dropped, I was able to stand on the rock without getting pushed off, so I switched over to the riggie. On my third cast with the eel it was suddenly stopped cold. Bass often hit rigged eels hard and it’s one of my favorite reasons to fish it. This fish was immediately into my drag and made three runs before I got her under control. I could feel she had weight and after several minutes of back and forth battle I got her within eyesight and flipped on my neck-light. She looked good and I figured she was in the mid 40-pound range. As I was attempting to get her close to me a rogue wave came out of nowhere and knocked me off the rock and into the water. Rather than get back up on the rock I made the slow swim back to shore with the fish still attached to my rigged eel. I reached shore exhausted and pulled the fish up onto the sand. It was then that I saw how big she really was and the thought that she might be over 50 pounds suddenly came to mind. I was full of adrenalin but didn’t feel up to going back out to find the rock. I secured the fish and made the mile long walk back to my camper with some extra weight on my shoulder. The next morning, I took her to the local marina to weigh her. She pulled the digital scaled down to 51.25 pounds. Good karma had certainly found me, just as the tackle shop owner had predicted.
I found out later that afternoon that the owner of the lost bag was located. He was someone who had come to Montauk from the West Coast for a day or two of fishing and just as I thought, had purchased the bag and its contents the day before. Needless to say, he was thrilled to have it back. Remember my story and if you find something that doesn’t belong to you, make an effort to find the owner. Maybe some good karma will find you too.
