2016 brought the triumphant return of striper fishing on Cape Cod for our annual guy's fishing trip. We last visited the cape in 2009 before a string of years in Florida and a trip to Belize, so we decided it was time to return. Ben, Marc, and myself have all really honed our fly fishing skills over the past seven years, so it was time to get a little retribution. We headed down Friday night after work and checked into our hotel at the Ambassador Inn in Yarmouth. Dinner was had at Sundancer's, a waterfront bar and restaurant right on the Bass River (Which feeds into Nantucket Sound). We woke up at 4am (seriously) and found ourselves throwing flies into Follins Pond search for schoolies no later than 4:30am. We had some early success, each landing some pretty tiny stripers, but the action died down as fast as it started. After some quiet hours on the pond, we hopped in Phil's car and checked out a few spots before settling on Morris Island in Chatham, part of the famous Monomoy Reserve. It was a strip of desolate surf we had fished seven years prior, but this time all four of us were sporting fly rods. After an hour or so, I managed to catch my first striper on a fly rod, and the fight was intense. In all of the fly fishing I've done with these guys over the past 8+ years, the only fish I've fought all the way down to the reel was in Belize, when I was using the resorts equipment (our guide wouldn't let me use my 9-weight, instead insisting on the resorts 8-weight). And all of the fish I have caught on my own equipment I have managed to strip in by hand. So this fish was a big deal to me. I had found a great little sandbar to cast off of, and saw a big striper follow my fly in to shore. My next cast, the fish hit but didn't stay. My third cast was the money cast, as I saw him (her?) follow the fly in, hit it, and get hooked. The fight lasted long enough to drain the battery on Ben's phone as he videotaped it, and it was nothing short of electric. The rod bending, the reel humming as the fish ran, all of it - the sights and sounds that make fly fishing so addictive. I landed him, heart racing, and a mother and daughter who stopped to watch the fight were kind enough to take some pictures for me. Lo and behold, my very next cast? A second striper, just a few inches smaller than my first. The battle was on, and for the next ten minutes Ben and I (Phil and Marc were on different stretches of the shores) cast into a school of stripers, but the most action we had was when fish would tail our flies, but no more. That first striper was the biggest fish I've ever caught on a fly rod and now I know why guys get so hooked on this sport. Fighting big fish on a fly rod is unlike anything else. Now, despite my entry-level Redington Surge reel hold up just fine during the two fights, I'm a true gear whore and have been spending hours researching my next reel purchase. Sage? Seems like the best fit, but maybe I can use the "but you got expensive cowboy boots in Nashville" line on Brooke, and I can drop some additional coin on a really sweet rig. We headed back to the hotel for beers & a shower around 4:30pm and eventually found ourselves dining at the Summer Shanty, another waterfront joint right down the road from the hotel.
We had an 8:15am tee time at Bass River Golf Club, and the pairings were set: Marc and I vs. Phil and Ben, and Marc and I had to give those two goons 7 shots a side. Say what? No big deal, we still won with my par on the 18th. Marc and I were now $4 richer each, and we'll make sure to remind them of that every occasion we get. We grabbed lunch after the round (best lobster roll, maybe ever?) at the clubhouse, and then hit the road for the two hour trek home. Our weekend concluded with a cookout at Marc & Jenn's house, before heading home to tuck the little tikes into bed. It was yet another successful guys weekend fishing and golfing, and I'm already looking forward to next year's trip - with new reel in tow?
We had an 8:15am tee time at Bass River Golf Club, and the pairings were set: Marc and I vs. Phil and Ben, and Marc and I had to give those two goons 7 shots a side. Say what? No big deal, we still won with my par on the 18th. Marc and I were now $4 richer each, and we'll make sure to remind them of that every occasion we get. We grabbed lunch after the round (best lobster roll, maybe ever?) at the clubhouse, and then hit the road for the two hour trek home. Our weekend concluded with a cookout at Marc & Jenn's house, before heading home to tuck the little tikes into bed. It was yet another successful guys weekend fishing and golfing, and I'm already looking forward to next year's trip - with new reel in tow?