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Horrendous Night

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DZ

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Think you've seen everything? Enjoy..

 

DZ

 

Al and I hiked down the 100-foot bluff towards one of our favorite haunts along this stretch of Block Island shore. Once at the base of the cliff we headed west toward Lewis Point. It was 3:00 am and the full moon cast a glowing light along the cobbled shore. The wind was calm and the surf had a gentle role. Last night's success at this location was still fresh in our minds. Our anticipation was high for another night of catching Roccus, some topping the 40-pound mark. I trudged along saying nary a word while enjoying the sound of the receding waves. About 50 yards from our destination I spotted a familiar shape lying on the high tide line. Years of walking the beach had honed my vision so that I could spot a plug washed up even on the darkest of nights. This one was easily seen because its lime green back reflected the light of the moon. It was a Super Strike Needlefish. As I knelt down to pick it up Al mentioned he saw another a few feet away and went to claim his find. Two plugs in a small area had me wondering whether they had fallen from the surf bag of another unlucky angler. We both picked up our newfound needles and before I could put it in my surf bag I heard Al screech in pain. As I turned toward him I felt the treble hooks of the plug bury into my hands. I struggled to comprehend what was happening. Al was screaming in obvious pain and running back toward the bluff. I was also struggling to tear the trebles from my palm and fingers. As much as I flailed I could not gain my release from the barbed hook points. At that moment I could feel myself being pulled toward the surf. It then became apparent to me that the plug in my hand was attached to a line and that line lead into the water. Someone was pulling me in! I continued struggling to rid myself of the trebles. I began to tire and could feel myself being pulled closer and closer to the water. The soft gravel at the surfs edge began to shift under my weight causing me to fall and slide into the wash. It was at that point that Al came running down to my aid, the needlefish still stuck in his left thumb. With his right hand free Al was able to use his pliers to cut the line that was attached to the needlefish embedded in my hands. We fell to the beach exhausted and bloodied from our battle. Al then pointed seaward toward something about 30 feet out. There, right next to our favorite rock perch were two huge striped bass each holding a surf rod and both hurrying to retie another needlefish. We both started running back towards the bluff as two needlefish landed off to our side. We dared not touch them. As we climbed the trail back up to our buggy I could hear the sound of my car horn getting louder and louder and I wondered why it was sounding. As I reached for the car door handle I awoke to realize I had my alarm clock in my hand. I had awakened from a horrible nightmare and the car horn was actually the alarm buzzer. I gathered my senses and then woke up Al. It was time to head out for the rising tide, catch a few bass, and maybe, if we're lucky, find a plug or two.

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"I came into this world naked, screaming at the top of my lungs, and covered in someone else's blood. I got no problem leaving it that way."
Who can hope to be safe? Who sufficiently cautious? Guard himself as he may, every moment's an ambush. Horace

 

 

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DZ, you rule buddyicon14.gif Fishing dreams, the really strange ones you have after fishing dozens of tides in a row, they are some of the most bizarre, but most realistic dreams I've ever hadcwm24.gif

 

TimS

Show someone how to catch striped bass and they'll be ready to fish anywhere.
Show someone where to go striped bass fishing and you'll have a desperate report chaser with loose lips.

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