What a Mess - The Fisherman

What a Mess

North Chatham Outfitters Line recycling tubes
Line recycling tubes like this one sponsored by North Chatham Outfitters can be found at many popular fishing spots.

Today I went for a short, early-morning outing for striped bass. It was actually my very first dedicated striped bass trip of the season as I have been able to come up with far more excuses not to fish than to wet a line lately. In any event conditions lined-up for a spring spot that I used to look forward to hitting with great anticipation each year, but a spot where I had not set foot in at least four if not five seasons. My absence from this spot for the last few years was due to a variety of reasons including excessive fishing pressure, diminishing results and discovery of some other spring options.

That all said, when I got word of a decent if not good bite the last few days the temptation was simply too much to ignore. I hastily packed a surf bag, pulled my waders, boots and dry top out of their winter lair, grabbed a new rod that I had finished over the winter and decided this would be her christening. The ride to the spot seemed to go by much faster than I remember and before I knew it I was turning down the road that led to the parking lot. I quickly geared up and marched down the trail with a renewed hop to my step that I hadn’t seen on recent trout outings. Arriving at the water’s edge, the conditions looked perfect with a moderately high, rain-fed flow that would most certainly put striped bass at the advantage over any herring making their way upriver. I clipped on a 2-ounce JoeBaggs jighead and Freedom Fish and made a high-confidence cast before my boots were even wet. I repeated the motions for a good 20 minutes, working every inch of the water before changing lures and beginning to make my way downstream. I stopped here and there hitting all of the casting perches I could find from my old days fishing this spot with great frequency. To make a long story short I only succeeded in raising a single fish—with a Guppy pencil popper—but the lack of catching wasn’t my takeaway from the outing. Instead what I couldn’t get over was what a mess this area had become. Sure there was always some trash here and there in the past, but what I saw that day was downright disgusting. From residential trash to piles of building materials to beer cans and bottles to fishing gear, there was a bit of just about everything to be had. I even found the remains of what looked to be no less than three separate “tent cities” from the local homeless population. I did what I could to pick up some of the trash and deposit it in nearby receptacles, but to make a real dent in things would have taken 100 people and a fleet of dumpsters.

While some of the trash I found was most certainly left by local anglers, the vast majority was obviously from other sources. But the problem here is that it’s not the local kids looking for a place to drink who are going to lose out when access is eliminated, it’s those of us who seek to enjoy a little bit of time in the fresh air, maybe catching a fish or two, who will be punished. I hate to say that I don’t have some sort of profound wisdom to pass along here today, but I felt compelled to relay my story as I fear I am not alone in my disgust.

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