Strange Allure of Surf Fishing
From Yankee Magazine October 2003
No place on earth has better surf fishing than Martha’s Vineyard. From May through November, surf casters flog these 125 miles of shoreline and catch stripers of 50 pounds and more.
To the uninitiated, surf fishing looks like a terribly inefficient way to catch fish. It is. You can spend an entire night and get only one strike, or none. Some surf casters fish a lifetime and don’t catch a striped bass.
Surf fishing here started centuries ago when the Wampanoags speared the abundant sturgeon and striped bass. The fishermen would lie naked in the damp sands at night, and wake to the sounds of leaping baitfish.
The sturgeon is long gone. But the striper is a living sign that man can stop before it’s too late. A total fishing moratorium in 1984 saved Morone saxatilis, then at dangerously low levels, from extinction. Now strict size and limit numbers exist. Locals practice zero tolerance. Offenders may be turned in, or they may find their tires mysteriously flat, or both. The people of this island have a deep love for this fish.
I would be going out with local guides, learning the local hot spots, what tides to fish, what lures to use, and how to fish with eels. I’d reached surf-fishing nirvana.
My guide, Bob Fischer, is a soft-spoken man who’s pursued the striped bass for close to 30 years. We head for Squibnocket, the extreme southwest curve of the island that juts out into the Atlantic and diverts fish traffic toward shore. We roll over a crest of a dirt road, and before us sits the giant basin of Squibnocket beneath a clear, moonless sky.
“Squibnocket is one big bowl,” Bob tells me, “made by a series of smaller bowls. Big fish like to corner small fish in the bowls.”
“How big?” I ask.