The night started off like every other night in June and July. A call from my friend Lincoln asking if I wanted to go night fishing, a hurried dinner and biking down the hill as fast as possible to catch the sunset squid bite. We met at the Menemsha Fish Market, a store known for the giant lobsters they sell, and headed on down to the Menemsha Texaco. We both filled our buckets with squid (about 20lbs total that we would later sell) and made our way over to my favorite spot. Everyone fishes there, but nearly nobody knows how to do it correctly.
I put a single small squid on my 6/0 circle hook by hooking it through the tip of the squid opposite the eyes. I always drop the squid in the crack between one dock and another, where the bass always hang out. Putting my Calcutta 251 into free spool, I let the squid float slowly toward the bottom. A jet black shadow darted out and slowly circled the squid, eating it and spitting it out over and over as if tasting its quality. Finally it ate it and slowly swam back to where it came from. I let it swim for four seconds before taking it out of free spool and letting the circle hook do it’s job. Fish on! A largemouth rod, very little drag, light line and lots of pilings and boats don’t go well together. The fish took off and after a blistering run (for a bass) it slowed down enough for me to get a little bit of line back. It had gone directly under the dock I was standing on, and my rod was halfway in the water so that the line didn’t fray and break on the barnacle encrusted pier. I yelled for Lincoln and he rushed over to help land the fish, which we both could see wouldn’t be happening for quite some time. He changed directions and went in between two pilings about 20 yards from us. We ran down the pier passing the rod to each other under the dock lines before hopping onto a friends boat. Passing the rod around the piling was easy enough. We made the same trip back down the dock, threading the rod through the web of lines. Upon reaching the end of the pier, the fish made a short run underneath the dock and I dove into an inflatable dingy and put the rod tip in the water once again. Pulling a big bass up from twenty feet isn’t easy with fifteen pound test, but after some struggling and a lot more drag being pulled, we had the fish at the surface. Lincoln reached out and grabbed the fish by the lip and hauled it over the side of the dingy.
Both amazed with what had just happened, we high fived before removing the hook and slowly revived the fish. With a whip of the tail it splashed my face and swam back into the depth.
A week later that rod snapped in three places and there is no question in my mind as to why.