Cuttyhunk: The Trip of a Lifetime
by “Grampa” Greg McNamara
I have found over the years that surfcasting for striped bass can be very rewarding. The true fruits of the sport are only given with any frequency to those who put their time in, work hard, and make every effort to put themselves in an advantageous position. One way I've been able to maximize my chances at success is by simply going to a location known for its productivity. Over the years many locations have become very well known. Places like Montauk, Block Island, and the Cape Cod Canal are all popular surfcasting destinations. There is one location that I recently fished for the first time that in my opinion stands out from many. It is a little island with approximately 5 miles of shoreline known as Cuttyhunk.
Cuttyhunk Island is part of the Town of Gosnold, in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. It rests 12 miles south of New Bedford, MA and 8 miles west of Gay Head, Martha's Vineyard. Cuttyhunk does not have bars, clubs, malls, traffic, or much touristy action. However, what Cuttyhunk does have is a quiet, isolated ocean environment that is perfect for relaxing, and of course world class fishing.
I first heard about Cuttyhunk Island as a fishing destination about two years ago when reading DJ Muller's, “Striper Strategies”. In his book DJ mentioned that the Cuttyhunk Fishing Club, which was founded in 1864, is a location where chunking for big striped bass from the surf is very well documented. I decided to look into this further to simply satisfy my curiosity of the club's history and understand the historic influence it must have had on sport fishing from the surf. In doing more research on the fishing club I came to find out that it is now a bed and breakfast that is open to the public. I also found out that Cuttyhunk, year in and year out, consistently produces large striped bass from the surf. This included a world record fish caught in 1913. I came across this fact using Wikipedia. The following is the excerpt I read:
“Cuttyhunk has been a mecca for large striped bass. In 1913 Charles Church caught a world-record striped bass of 73 pounds. That record lasted many years. Charles Cinto, duplicated the effort, landing a 73-pound striper near Cuttyhunk in 1967. Cuttyhunk has been the home port to many notable fishing guides. Many of these guides troll secret lures attached by stainless-steel or nickel-alloy wire along the rocky reefs near the island where large female stripers reside from the spring through the autumn. The most notable reef, Sow and Pigs Reef, was where Mr. Cinto caught his striper.”
The Island Landscape
To put it lightly, I was sold on fishing this legendary location.I immediately contacted two CT sharpies that I fish with regularly and told them about the destination. Shamefully, I have to admit this was a strategic move. The island has no restaurants and only one store with spotty hours, so it is recommended to bring all food with you to the island. One gentleman, Demos, is a chef and restaurant owner and the other, John, is a butcher. You can see where I was going with this. Anyway, both of the guys were really excited to join me especially after I discussed the history and reputation of Cuttyhunk. All it took, at this point was a telephone call to Bonnie, the inn keeper at the fishing club and a room for three was booked for 3 days and 2 nights around the June new moon 2010. I felt this was prime time in a prime location. Needless to say, we were pumped.
Transportation to the island was pretty straightforward. There are only two public services that run to and from the island and both are out of New Bedford, MA. Initially we planned to take the Cuttyhunk Ferry. We arrived an hour before the ferry was scheduled to depart and we came across the Cuttyhunk Water Taxi, a smaller boat and the alternative way to get to the island. The captain of the taxi said he would take us there at that moment, and since we didn't have reservations with the ferry we decided to take him up on the offer. He charged just a few dollars more per person than the ferry but didn't charge us extra for the cargo so the total price came out to less over all. I enjoyed the intimacy of the water taxi and will use this method to get there on return trips. To add, the water taxi seemed to run there and back more often and ran less by schedule and more by available clientele, or at least that's how it seemed to me.
So we were off. The excitement began to build as we spoke to a couple of Cuttyhunk veterans, getting their advice and stories along the way. Soon the island was in view. It took us about an hour to get from New Bedford to Cuttyhunk. I was told the ferry takes just as long. Upon entering the harbor and looking south we got our first glimpse of the Cuttyhunk Fishing Club, proudly sitting on top of a large bluff. We were greeted at the dock by Bonnie the inn keeper. She helped us load our gear on her utility golf cart and drove us the quarter mile to the club. Bonnie is quite the spitfire. Going toe to toe with our wit she fit right in with our group of guys. I could tell she has had some practice dealing with fishermen. Her free spirit was both welcoming and refreshing for all three of us who were finally getting away from the day-to-day grind of our busy lives.
Once we made it to the club, Bonnie showed us to our room. The room was simple and antiquated yet tastefully decorated. There was no bathroom in the room, but there were two community bathrooms located in the hallway just outside. Perfect accommodation for a fisherman, but probably not so much the case for the fisherman's wife. Once our things were in the room, Bonnie showed us to the kitchen and freezers where we had full access to prepare and store our food just as long as we cleaned up when we were done. The privilege to use her kitchen is only an option during the off-season. During the summer months it becomes a true bed and breakfast and she utilizes the kitchen to prepare meals for her guests.
Our Kitchen
I began to explore various rooms in the Fishing Club. I got an immediate sense of its age and antiquity. The unmistakable antique smells and the old wooden floor creaking beneath my feet convinced me that the club was no doubt very old yet preserved and suspended in a state much like it was 140 years ago. Bonnie confirmed this. She said that much effort has been put in to “keeping the charm” as she playfully put it. When moving from the kitchen to the dining room there is an old step that has worn concave from the years of foot traffic. With a common fishing theme, old black and white photos and old paintings of Cuttyhunk adorn the dining and sitting rooms. Included was a photograph of Presidents Teddy Roosevelt and William Taft standing outside the club. After this brief walk about I headed out back to the edge of the bluffs to view the battlefield. Looking down I saw one lone surfcaster casting from the rocks of the old bass stand. I watched him for about five minutes until I couldn't sit there anymore. I went back to the room, grabbed my rod, korkers, and bag and headed down the bluffs to the waters edge.
When I ran down the gentleman I saw fishing informed me that the fishing has been slow. He told me he was out the night before in the southwest portion of the island and only managed one small fish. With a moderate southwest blow I wondered why. Being an avid and frequent Montauk fisherman I have been guilty following the generalization “wind in your face, fish at your feet”. I carried on to the rocks where the remnants of a bass stand lay. I cast for about twenty minutes until Demos “the chef “ met me. We fished together for another ten minutes and decided to move south along the rocky shoreline.
Let me begin by saying Cuttyhunk's shoreline has the fishiest looking structure I have ever seen, EVER! I saw huge boulders coming out of the water. Boulders with flat tops big enough to accommodate two surfcasters were common. Like Montauk's south shore, the south to southwest side of the island was made up of several points and coves. Unlike Montauk though, the coves were smaller making casting to the deeper water more accessible. My thinking is the fish will be more prone to stay within casting range, as straying too far would put them away from the structure they rely on for ambushing prey. Also unlike Montauk, there are no sandy beaches between points, just rocky shoreline. With this in mind walking along this side was brutal on our lower legs and ankles. We walked on and every time we came around a point and entered a cove, we came across another point. Obligated to see what was around the next point we continued on. It was truly amazing because each new cove seemed to look fishier than the last. Before we knew it we were at the infamous southwest point. Scouting for and finding a few good perches to fish that evening, we decided to head back. What was to be just a few casts ended up being a long tough hike that lasted a couple of hours. Due to my excitement and impulsiveness to fish and explore, I did not put on my waders. As a result my wader boots, which are sized to accommodate my foot in a sock foot wader, was loose and rubbing the whole time. I came home to find 3 large painful blisters on both feet. I will never make that mistake again.
After a long nap and some TLC to my feet, we were up and enjoying the fruits only a butcher and a chef could deliver. A great dinner of marinated steaks, chicken and burgers all prepared to perfection on the grills located in a small courtyard in the back of the club. For sides we had fresh corn on the cob and pasta and potato salads. We ate, had a few beers and exchanged stories with a few of the other guys staying there as well. It was a good time and an all around a beautiful sunset. We then proceeded back to the room to prepare for the battles to be had that evening. We geared up, headed out and down the bluffs we went. We fished under the club for about one hour for not a touch. In speaking to the guys during dinner they informed us that they fished the coves and the southwest point all night for not a touch. With conditions being identical to the previous night and no fish to be had where we were at that moment, I proposed to John and Demos the option of going across the island to the northeast side. What's great about Cuttyhunk is the island is just small enough to make such a drastic move possible. Demos declined saying we wouldn't catch anything. I think he was just exhausted from the long hike earlier in the day. John on the other hand was up for it, and the two of us trekked there. It proved to be a good move. We were into fish almost immediately. Each of us landed fish to 12 pounds on dark colored bombers and darters. We walked south along the rocky shore and I decided to swim out to a rock about the size of a large shed. John wearing waders stayed back at shore. Once on top of the large flat- topped rock I loaded a large charcoal sluggo to the end of my line. I was soon into 4 more bass from 9 to 11 pounds. The bite slowed and when I saw John walking back the way we came I decided to swim back to shore. John informed me he was pretty tired so we decided to call it a night.
Once back at the hotel, Demos was fast asleep and snoring. He snored so loud I began to worry about the guys in the neighboring room not being able to sleep. You see, he never had a steady, rhythmic snore. That would have allowed me to fall right to sleep. His snoring constantly changed pitch and duration. This by itself made it impossible for John and I to fall asleep. We kept wondering what kind of noise he was going to make next! Honestly anyone listening from outside would have thought whatever was making these sounds was far from human.
The next morning Demos woke up and we told him of our success from the night before. He then proceeded to go on an absolute tirade. He ranted and raved about how we were full of crap and how we didn't catch anything. He then threatened not to make breakfast. It was tough to tell if he was kidding or not because it was really funny. Though reluctant, he did end up making a fantastic breakfast. His rant was nothing less than pure entertainment for John and I as we basked happily in the rays of our successful night. After breakfast we took it easy. I bumped into author and surf fishing guide, Zeno Hromin and we had a nice long chat about the surfcasting industry, rigging eels and striped bass vision and lure color selection. What a great and humble guy. One of the greats in the sport and if he was fishing Cuttyhunk, I felt I was in the right place at the right time. He informed me that he fished the southwest point and coves leading there the night before and actually got skunked. He said that that was a first for him in Cuttyhunk. He did mention that Steve McKenna, another well known surfcaster, landed a couple bass, but overall it was very slow. This reassured me that we made the right move the night before.
During the day we fished around the club and only managed a couple of hits. Again the South-southwest wind persisted. Come sundown, we decided to hit the same spot as the night before. Demos said he wasn't coming again, apparently holding a grudge. On the way out I realized I forgot my head lamp and had to turn around to get it. John carried on without me. Once I had my light I headed back to the northeast side. On the way, I somehow took a wrong turn and it landed me on a trail in the middle of acres of brush. I followed the trail for awhile and saw that it was leading me to the large salt pond on the south east side of the island. I turned around, and all in all lost about an hour of fishing. When I finally reached John, I saw that Demos the grouch was with him. I was pleasantly surprised to see him. We fished there for about an hour through dusk.
Soon after dusk with the new moon and over cast skies, it was pitch black. A big storm blew in with some lightening in the distance. We stuck it out and continued to fish as the torrential rain only lasted for about twenty minutes. When the rain stopped that's when all hell broke loose. Using a Northbar bottle darter I started hooking up. Demos gets a hit. John is into a nice fish as I can hear his drag scream. John unfortunately dropped that fish, but was quickly into another. I had about 5 fish to 13 pounds in a period of about fifteen minutes. Then the bite slowed down so I switched to large sluggos and was greeted by another mid teen fish that fought hard. At first I was estimating it was a nice upper 20 lb fish. John and Demos weren't having any luck at this point. Then I got a nice hit and set the hook. I muscled the fish in and saw that it was a bit bigger. Measuring 41” at 22 pounds, it was a relatively long and thin girl. I decided to take a picture of this fish, but with it being so dark it wasn't easy. The dark night ate up the flash of my camera so the pictures were coming out extremely under exposed. We actually had to add two headlamps to the camera flash to finally got the picture. Thinking that the fish would have a tough time reviving, I brought her to the waters edge and off she went without issue. It was a good night and after another hour we decided to head back. Exhausted, we all slept well despite Demos again falling asleep first. Mixed in with Demos' snoring were the melodies of a reggae band that was playing at a party at the neighboring inn. It was a nice end to a great night.
The next morning we ate and had Bonnie contact the water taxi. They agreed to pick us up at 1pm. I decided to take a walk around the little town and stop by the town gift shop. After picking up a couple of souvenirs I headed back to the club. Bonnie helped us gather our things and both her and her son drove us, and our gear back to the dock. The water taxi took us, and the reggae band back to New Bedford. They were good people. They helped us unload our gear from the taxi onto the dock.
To conclude, Cuttyhunk to me was a spot of spots. There were no concerns about spot burning. No one was tight lipped. The feeling seemed to be that there are plenty of fish and plenty of spots for everyone. We were all there to share the experience together whether you knew each other or not. This was extremely refreshing to me. I also really had a feeling that this was an island which its whole existence is and has been based on fishing. The Cuttyhunk Fishing Club is a place that elicited a feeling of true fishing nostalgia within me. As legend and history suggest, the increased potential of catching a trophy and the impossibility of over crowding due to its remoteness, size and limited accommodations, Cuttyhunk truly was a surfcasting trip of a lifetime for me that I will be doing again and again. I would encourage any serious surfcaster to do this trip at least once. I would recommend doing it with someone who has been there before but, like we proved, it is definitely not a requirement. Between the three of us we spent about $350 dollars each for the entire trip. This included gas, food and drink, round trip water taxi, eels, the room and extra supplies.
The Beautiful Island
by “Grampa” Greg McNamara
I have found over the years that surfcasting for striped bass can be very rewarding. The true fruits of the sport are only given with any frequency to those who put their time in, work hard, and make every effort to put themselves in an advantageous position. One way I've been able to maximize my chances at success is by simply going to a location known for its productivity. Over the years many locations have become very well known. Places like Montauk, Block Island, and the Cape Cod Canal are all popular surfcasting destinations. There is one location that I recently fished for the first time that in my opinion stands out from many. It is a little island with approximately 5 miles of shoreline known as Cuttyhunk.
Cuttyhunk Island is part of the Town of Gosnold, in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. It rests 12 miles south of New Bedford, MA and 8 miles west of Gay Head, Martha's Vineyard. Cuttyhunk does not have bars, clubs, malls, traffic, or much touristy action. However, what Cuttyhunk does have is a quiet, isolated ocean environment that is perfect for relaxing, and of course world class fishing.
I first heard about Cuttyhunk Island as a fishing destination about two years ago when reading DJ Muller's, “Striper Strategies”. In his book DJ mentioned that the Cuttyhunk Fishing Club, which was founded in 1864, is a location where chunking for big striped bass from the surf is very well documented. I decided to look into this further to simply satisfy my curiosity of the club's history and understand the historic influence it must have had on sport fishing from the surf. In doing more research on the fishing club I came to find out that it is now a bed and breakfast that is open to the public. I also found out that Cuttyhunk, year in and year out, consistently produces large striped bass from the surf. This included a world record fish caught in 1913. I came across this fact using Wikipedia. The following is the excerpt I read:
“Cuttyhunk has been a mecca for large striped bass. In 1913 Charles Church caught a world-record striped bass of 73 pounds. That record lasted many years. Charles Cinto, duplicated the effort, landing a 73-pound striper near Cuttyhunk in 1967. Cuttyhunk has been the home port to many notable fishing guides. Many of these guides troll secret lures attached by stainless-steel or nickel-alloy wire along the rocky reefs near the island where large female stripers reside from the spring through the autumn. The most notable reef, Sow and Pigs Reef, was where Mr. Cinto caught his striper.”
The Island Landscape
To put it lightly, I was sold on fishing this legendary location.I immediately contacted two CT sharpies that I fish with regularly and told them about the destination. Shamefully, I have to admit this was a strategic move. The island has no restaurants and only one store with spotty hours, so it is recommended to bring all food with you to the island. One gentleman, Demos, is a chef and restaurant owner and the other, John, is a butcher. You can see where I was going with this. Anyway, both of the guys were really excited to join me especially after I discussed the history and reputation of Cuttyhunk. All it took, at this point was a telephone call to Bonnie, the inn keeper at the fishing club and a room for three was booked for 3 days and 2 nights around the June new moon 2010. I felt this was prime time in a prime location. Needless to say, we were pumped.
Transportation to the island was pretty straightforward. There are only two public services that run to and from the island and both are out of New Bedford, MA. Initially we planned to take the Cuttyhunk Ferry. We arrived an hour before the ferry was scheduled to depart and we came across the Cuttyhunk Water Taxi, a smaller boat and the alternative way to get to the island. The captain of the taxi said he would take us there at that moment, and since we didn't have reservations with the ferry we decided to take him up on the offer. He charged just a few dollars more per person than the ferry but didn't charge us extra for the cargo so the total price came out to less over all. I enjoyed the intimacy of the water taxi and will use this method to get there on return trips. To add, the water taxi seemed to run there and back more often and ran less by schedule and more by available clientele, or at least that's how it seemed to me.
So we were off. The excitement began to build as we spoke to a couple of Cuttyhunk veterans, getting their advice and stories along the way. Soon the island was in view. It took us about an hour to get from New Bedford to Cuttyhunk. I was told the ferry takes just as long. Upon entering the harbor and looking south we got our first glimpse of the Cuttyhunk Fishing Club, proudly sitting on top of a large bluff. We were greeted at the dock by Bonnie the inn keeper. She helped us load our gear on her utility golf cart and drove us the quarter mile to the club. Bonnie is quite the spitfire. Going toe to toe with our wit she fit right in with our group of guys. I could tell she has had some practice dealing with fishermen. Her free spirit was both welcoming and refreshing for all three of us who were finally getting away from the day-to-day grind of our busy lives.
Once we made it to the club, Bonnie showed us to our room. The room was simple and antiquated yet tastefully decorated. There was no bathroom in the room, but there were two community bathrooms located in the hallway just outside. Perfect accommodation for a fisherman, but probably not so much the case for the fisherman's wife. Once our things were in the room, Bonnie showed us to the kitchen and freezers where we had full access to prepare and store our food just as long as we cleaned up when we were done. The privilege to use her kitchen is only an option during the off-season. During the summer months it becomes a true bed and breakfast and she utilizes the kitchen to prepare meals for her guests.
Our Kitchen
I began to explore various rooms in the Fishing Club. I got an immediate sense of its age and antiquity. The unmistakable antique smells and the old wooden floor creaking beneath my feet convinced me that the club was no doubt very old yet preserved and suspended in a state much like it was 140 years ago. Bonnie confirmed this. She said that much effort has been put in to “keeping the charm” as she playfully put it. When moving from the kitchen to the dining room there is an old step that has worn concave from the years of foot traffic. With a common fishing theme, old black and white photos and old paintings of Cuttyhunk adorn the dining and sitting rooms. Included was a photograph of Presidents Teddy Roosevelt and William Taft standing outside the club. After this brief walk about I headed out back to the edge of the bluffs to view the battlefield. Looking down I saw one lone surfcaster casting from the rocks of the old bass stand. I watched him for about five minutes until I couldn't sit there anymore. I went back to the room, grabbed my rod, korkers, and bag and headed down the bluffs to the waters edge.
When I ran down the gentleman I saw fishing informed me that the fishing has been slow. He told me he was out the night before in the southwest portion of the island and only managed one small fish. With a moderate southwest blow I wondered why. Being an avid and frequent Montauk fisherman I have been guilty following the generalization “wind in your face, fish at your feet”. I carried on to the rocks where the remnants of a bass stand lay. I cast for about twenty minutes until Demos “the chef “ met me. We fished together for another ten minutes and decided to move south along the rocky shoreline.
Let me begin by saying Cuttyhunk's shoreline has the fishiest looking structure I have ever seen, EVER! I saw huge boulders coming out of the water. Boulders with flat tops big enough to accommodate two surfcasters were common. Like Montauk's south shore, the south to southwest side of the island was made up of several points and coves. Unlike Montauk though, the coves were smaller making casting to the deeper water more accessible. My thinking is the fish will be more prone to stay within casting range, as straying too far would put them away from the structure they rely on for ambushing prey. Also unlike Montauk, there are no sandy beaches between points, just rocky shoreline. With this in mind walking along this side was brutal on our lower legs and ankles. We walked on and every time we came around a point and entered a cove, we came across another point. Obligated to see what was around the next point we continued on. It was truly amazing because each new cove seemed to look fishier than the last. Before we knew it we were at the infamous southwest point. Scouting for and finding a few good perches to fish that evening, we decided to head back. What was to be just a few casts ended up being a long tough hike that lasted a couple of hours. Due to my excitement and impulsiveness to fish and explore, I did not put on my waders. As a result my wader boots, which are sized to accommodate my foot in a sock foot wader, was loose and rubbing the whole time. I came home to find 3 large painful blisters on both feet. I will never make that mistake again.
After a long nap and some TLC to my feet, we were up and enjoying the fruits only a butcher and a chef could deliver. A great dinner of marinated steaks, chicken and burgers all prepared to perfection on the grills located in a small courtyard in the back of the club. For sides we had fresh corn on the cob and pasta and potato salads. We ate, had a few beers and exchanged stories with a few of the other guys staying there as well. It was a good time and an all around a beautiful sunset. We then proceeded back to the room to prepare for the battles to be had that evening. We geared up, headed out and down the bluffs we went. We fished under the club for about one hour for not a touch. In speaking to the guys during dinner they informed us that they fished the coves and the southwest point all night for not a touch. With conditions being identical to the previous night and no fish to be had where we were at that moment, I proposed to John and Demos the option of going across the island to the northeast side. What's great about Cuttyhunk is the island is just small enough to make such a drastic move possible. Demos declined saying we wouldn't catch anything. I think he was just exhausted from the long hike earlier in the day. John on the other hand was up for it, and the two of us trekked there. It proved to be a good move. We were into fish almost immediately. Each of us landed fish to 12 pounds on dark colored bombers and darters. We walked south along the rocky shore and I decided to swim out to a rock about the size of a large shed. John wearing waders stayed back at shore. Once on top of the large flat- topped rock I loaded a large charcoal sluggo to the end of my line. I was soon into 4 more bass from 9 to 11 pounds. The bite slowed and when I saw John walking back the way we came I decided to swim back to shore. John informed me he was pretty tired so we decided to call it a night.
Once back at the hotel, Demos was fast asleep and snoring. He snored so loud I began to worry about the guys in the neighboring room not being able to sleep. You see, he never had a steady, rhythmic snore. That would have allowed me to fall right to sleep. His snoring constantly changed pitch and duration. This by itself made it impossible for John and I to fall asleep. We kept wondering what kind of noise he was going to make next! Honestly anyone listening from outside would have thought whatever was making these sounds was far from human.
The next morning Demos woke up and we told him of our success from the night before. He then proceeded to go on an absolute tirade. He ranted and raved about how we were full of crap and how we didn't catch anything. He then threatened not to make breakfast. It was tough to tell if he was kidding or not because it was really funny. Though reluctant, he did end up making a fantastic breakfast. His rant was nothing less than pure entertainment for John and I as we basked happily in the rays of our successful night. After breakfast we took it easy. I bumped into author and surf fishing guide, Zeno Hromin and we had a nice long chat about the surfcasting industry, rigging eels and striped bass vision and lure color selection. What a great and humble guy. One of the greats in the sport and if he was fishing Cuttyhunk, I felt I was in the right place at the right time. He informed me that he fished the southwest point and coves leading there the night before and actually got skunked. He said that that was a first for him in Cuttyhunk. He did mention that Steve McKenna, another well known surfcaster, landed a couple bass, but overall it was very slow. This reassured me that we made the right move the night before.
During the day we fished around the club and only managed a couple of hits. Again the South-southwest wind persisted. Come sundown, we decided to hit the same spot as the night before. Demos said he wasn't coming again, apparently holding a grudge. On the way out I realized I forgot my head lamp and had to turn around to get it. John carried on without me. Once I had my light I headed back to the northeast side. On the way, I somehow took a wrong turn and it landed me on a trail in the middle of acres of brush. I followed the trail for awhile and saw that it was leading me to the large salt pond on the south east side of the island. I turned around, and all in all lost about an hour of fishing. When I finally reached John, I saw that Demos the grouch was with him. I was pleasantly surprised to see him. We fished there for about an hour through dusk.
Soon after dusk with the new moon and over cast skies, it was pitch black. A big storm blew in with some lightening in the distance. We stuck it out and continued to fish as the torrential rain only lasted for about twenty minutes. When the rain stopped that's when all hell broke loose. Using a Northbar bottle darter I started hooking up. Demos gets a hit. John is into a nice fish as I can hear his drag scream. John unfortunately dropped that fish, but was quickly into another. I had about 5 fish to 13 pounds in a period of about fifteen minutes. Then the bite slowed down so I switched to large sluggos and was greeted by another mid teen fish that fought hard. At first I was estimating it was a nice upper 20 lb fish. John and Demos weren't having any luck at this point. Then I got a nice hit and set the hook. I muscled the fish in and saw that it was a bit bigger. Measuring 41” at 22 pounds, it was a relatively long and thin girl. I decided to take a picture of this fish, but with it being so dark it wasn't easy. The dark night ate up the flash of my camera so the pictures were coming out extremely under exposed. We actually had to add two headlamps to the camera flash to finally got the picture. Thinking that the fish would have a tough time reviving, I brought her to the waters edge and off she went without issue. It was a good night and after another hour we decided to head back. Exhausted, we all slept well despite Demos again falling asleep first. Mixed in with Demos' snoring were the melodies of a reggae band that was playing at a party at the neighboring inn. It was a nice end to a great night.
The next morning we ate and had Bonnie contact the water taxi. They agreed to pick us up at 1pm. I decided to take a walk around the little town and stop by the town gift shop. After picking up a couple of souvenirs I headed back to the club. Bonnie helped us gather our things and both her and her son drove us, and our gear back to the dock. The water taxi took us, and the reggae band back to New Bedford. They were good people. They helped us unload our gear from the taxi onto the dock.
To conclude, Cuttyhunk to me was a spot of spots. There were no concerns about spot burning. No one was tight lipped. The feeling seemed to be that there are plenty of fish and plenty of spots for everyone. We were all there to share the experience together whether you knew each other or not. This was extremely refreshing to me. I also really had a feeling that this was an island which its whole existence is and has been based on fishing. The Cuttyhunk Fishing Club is a place that elicited a feeling of true fishing nostalgia within me. As legend and history suggest, the increased potential of catching a trophy and the impossibility of over crowding due to its remoteness, size and limited accommodations, Cuttyhunk truly was a surfcasting trip of a lifetime for me that I will be doing again and again. I would encourage any serious surfcaster to do this trip at least once. I would recommend doing it with someone who has been there before but, like we proved, it is definitely not a requirement. Between the three of us we spent about $350 dollars each for the entire trip. This included gas, food and drink, round trip water taxi, eels, the room and extra supplies.
The Beautiful Island
