Fog Rolls In, So Do Fish
In May, the sea draws a gauzy shroud over the southerly half of Montauk just as a blanket of white blossoms eases winter’s final chill. It’s as though the light, ghostly fog whispers a wakeup to the shadblow, “You can come out now.”
The spring fog bisects the peninsula right down the middle, north and south. We know we can drive to the sunny north side if we tire of the fog, or descend into it, especially east of Deep Hollow Ranch into the Montauk moorlands, to experience our unique bond to the sea.
On Monday morning, I had some business at the Bridgehampton National Bank on the Circle in Montauk. Downtown was fogged in. I brought my deposit to the counter and as the teller added my pittance to the bank’s coffers we remarked on the beauty of our fog, how lucky we were to be able to drive out of it if we wanted. “And, you can smell the fish,” she said.
So true, and what a gift. The fog that whispers awake the shad also carries redolent proof that the spring fish migration is well under way — a sweet smell that no doubt includes the fragrance of blossoming seaweeds.
Surfcasters, who also take their cues from the fog, have been working the regular spots. The short jetty in front of the old East Deck Motel is producing small striped bass. The Georgica jetties in East Hampton, too. Bigger stripers have not arrived yet, or at least they are not being caught. As of Tuesday, those competing in the Montauk SurfMaster’s spring tournament have not brought one fish to the scales. The ocean remains unusually cold.
Big bluefish, the skinny ones called “runners” that scout out front of the voracious herd, have arrived in and around the Accabonac Harbor inlet.
As usual, bass have made their appearance at the South Ferry slip on North Haven, and around Orient Point. Harvey Bennett, owner of the Tackle Shop on Montauk Highway in Amagansett, said he heard reports of fluke already arriving in Gardiner’s Bay where pound traps are catching a smattering of squid. Anglers are jigging them from docks that cannot be named.
Someday someone’s going to take a video camera underwater to record the dramatic moment when a school of bluefish meets a school of squid, and the squid high-tail it in an explosion of black ink. I think Justin Burkle, Montauk surfer, founder of the 41-Degrees North brand of clothing, and an extraordinary photographer with a gift for capturing underwater images, will be the one. He coined the phrase “If something’s going to happen, it’s going to happen out there,” and it’s happening now.
I always think of Tom and Francis Lester this time of year. If it’s warm, May is the month when winter flounder work their way out of their muddy winter cocoons. When there were flounder around, the Lesters would leave their Bonac environs to set fykes (underwater traps) along the bottom of Lake Montauk to catch them. I made a few trips with them. There is no humor like Bonac humor. Finest kind.
The sport season for flounder began on April 1 and ends on May 30. Two fish per day are allowed, measuring at least 12 inches long.
Surely, the essence of summer flounder, fluke, makes up part of the sea’s spring fragrance. Montauk’s smaller draggers have been working the “backside,” that is the ocean side, of Montauk for fluke. The recreational fluke season begins on Sunday with an 18-inch minimum size limit, and a five-fish-per-day bag.
Watch for the lilacs to bloom. Their fragrant purple blossoms signal the arrival of squateague, as the Indians called them, or tiderunners — weakfish by any other name — a species with some of the most beautiful coloring in nature. They taste good too.