And now here is where the story gets better....

My employer gives three days for a death in the family, and so far I had only used about one and a half, so I took advantage of that time and also took Friday June 30 th off of work. I had three reasons to use the extra day: 1) I was worried about Dad and wanted to spend some time with him, 2) I could use the companionship and comfort myself, and 3) my grandmother would have wanted us to go fishing. So we did.

I met Dad Friday morning at his house and we decided to see if we could find the schools of large bass that were chasing bunker up to the beach that had been reported the days before. We decided to try Island Beach State park first, and went out to ride Gilikens. Finding nothing we went around the bathing areas and drove down to the jetty. A few anglers were catching small blues, and Dad and I each landed a couple just to bend the rod before stopping to watch. The guys fishing their spinning reels upside down, or the guy whose conventional reel screamed each cast for lack of oil were entertaining. After an hour of amusement, we decided it was time for breakfast.

After breakfast, we went to Betty and Nick’s. I was looking for some plano boxes to organize and store the plugs I had accumulated the past couple of flea market seasons. John Jr let us know the boats were into bass off the Seaside Heights piers. There was also supposedly a whale in the mix. After cleaning John out of his plano boxes (I accumulated a lot of lures), we hit Grumpy’s B&T. We got the same story, and decided to make a run out in the boat.

We found them nearby, along with a thresher shark or two. My brother was into the first fish, which took him around the boat. Unfortunately, at boat side it turned out to be missing its stripes and has somehow gained a yellow eye. It also conveniently bit through the leader for us.

I was up next, and after a few moves to get ahead of the school, I felt a nervous bunker moving around. Not long after, the telltale run signifying the end of my bunker began. I waited a few seconds, flipped the reel into gear, waited for the line to come taut, and drove the hook home. The rod immediately doubled over and the drag began to run. And unlike the spring trip, the drag was set correctly. The fight was a good long and other than some give and take, uneventful tug of war. We landed the fish and I realized I made a mistake. I waited too long to set the hook, and hooked the fish deep. This one went into the box. It hit the scales later at 27 pounds.

The rest of the evening was spent chasing schools of bunker, and swimming a few baits below them. No more fish for us, but we did see a few more threshers and had the whales pass close by. We got going as it got dark. On the ride home, Dad was a little bummed, and thought he may never catch a big fish.

With all the life just off the beach, we decided we would do it again Saturday morning, with one slight difference. My brother and I made a pact that, unbeknownst to my father, we would not fish. We were only going to snag baits. Any fish landed Saturday morning were going to be landed by Dad.

We got going early, and it took a little longer to find some schools of bunker. They were a bit further north, and, although we were ahead of the crowd, we skipped over the first couple knowing everyone else running out of Barnegat Inlet would be stopping there. We did find some being harassed, and there was only two other boats there. We snagged a few baits and set up.

It took a couple of times where we picked up and ran ahead of them again before we started seeing some action. There were still thresher sharks around, and seeing their tails whip up out of the water was spectacular to say the least. Slowly but surely the crowd around this school of bait was growing. That pushed the bait further to the north faster than normal. We were sharing with 20 or more boats, but most people were working it. Very few ran over the school of bait.

On one drift (for lack of a better word) through the school, we stuck around much longer than previous trips. We were making our plan for the next run up ahead of the school when Dad said he felt a run off. He set up on the fish and the rod doubled over. Drag screamed out of the little Abu reel like there was no tomorrow. My brother and I gave each other a look, and without a word, we both knew what the other was saying. This was Dad’s big fish, we can’t f@%k up.

I cleared the deck and rod holders to give Dad all the room he needed, while Jamie got ready to chase the fish if we needed to. I could see the fish splash on the surface, and it.

was out far. Really far. Dangerously far for how many boats were around us. I was keeping an eye on a blue center console to our south, who looked like they were packing up to move. Their bow was pointed so they would run right across our stern, and I was concerned they would do so without even looking to see if it was clear. They started moving, and sure enough they were going in the direction they were pointed.

I yelled at the top of my lungs “Hey!!!!! Fish On!!!! Go around our bow!!!!” Miraculously they heard me. The boat stopped, like they were contemplating what was said to them. Then they saw my father with a rod bent almost to the handle, and my brother and I waving them around our bow, and they got the picture.

Most other boats were away from us by now, and Dad was free to fight his fish. It took a while, but he got it to the boat. From my perspective, it came around the stern of the boat, and up on it’s side just under the surface. It was a huge bronze head followed by a broad flank of beautiful stripes. Dad brought it in slowly, and my brother, and I don’t know how he does this, netted it with the net we use for fluke. He’s netted so many decent fish, or multiples on an umbrella rig, in one swipe it’s amazing. It took two of us to get the fish over the gunnels, and I thought the frame of the net was going to give out.

The fish dwarfed the 27 pounder from the night before, looking like it could have had it for a snack. We unhooked the fish and had Dad step in for a few pictures. He couldn’t even hold it up, so the pictures are of the fish on the deck, with Dad kneeling next to it. Since she was hooked in the corner of the jaw, Dad decided for a release. I got the honors.

I picked her up, put her back in the water, and held her jaw open. She was too big to move through the water by myself, so Jamie bounced the boat in and out of gear to get some water moving over her gills. At first I did not think she would make it, as she wanted to turn on her side, but she began to right herself and move her tail on her own. I wasn’t letting go until I was sure she was good and ready. She clamped down on my fingers, but I still did not let go. After a few more minutes, she gave a good strong headshake, threw my hand from her mouth, and swam off strong.

We made a couple more drifts, but, our mission complete in the eyes of my brother and I, we headed back in. There were a lot of boats, a lot of bunker, but not too many fish being caught. I was happy to go, as I got to see Dad get a good one. I’ve been there for his giant tuna, his blue marlin, and his mako shark. (I should tell the mako story one day, it’s a good one).

We were thankful for our shot at that big fish, although it added a bittersweet highlight to the weekend. My grandmother would have loved to know about it. Although, I think she already does know...

JohnB