Team member "Pistol" Pete Kelly made a 3-hour drive to the end of Long Island for some of the fish Mtk is famous for. I hadn't been catching much and wanted to get some numbers up for the Striper Cup Hobie World Qualifier. More importantly, I wanted to get Pete into some respectable fish. Armed with eels and a formidable arsenal of deep-swimming lures, Pete and I launched into "3-4 foot seas... 20mph gusts," not ideal, but fishable. After each of us landed some bluefish, fortunes changed for me and I found a nice 38inch fish. Pete, despite his best efforts, could not seem to change his luck. He hung in there in the washing machine-like surf for almost 4 hours but couldn't get to anything but the bluefish. As I usually note: Nothing against fighting a big bluefish, but that's not why I drove 75 minutes and not why Pete drove 3 hrs. Like me, Pete tends to get philosophical at those points, remaining optimistic and pressing on. But last night insult piled on top of injury as he also got a ticket for parking in the lower (main) lot while we fished from 8pm to midnight. Personally, I've only gotten tickets for being in the upper lot. I had found some nice bass hunkered-down in one particular spot and was able to work that spot to effect for a nice 38in. bass, a 37 incher and a fat 32in specimen. Pete had taken a beating that night and I asked him to consider whether he believed his misfortunes at the Point were a "test" or a "message," the question that I always ask myself in those circumstances. High hook buys the beers, so we headed off to Liar's Saloon to consider our fortunes, both of us wondering what Pete did to piss off the fish gods. He's a stand-up guy, the kind who takes other people's kids on camping trips, the "fun uncle," and we were both hard-pressed to understand why I had such good luck and Pete couldn't seem to get a break.
Sometimes, I dare say MOST times, God works in mysterious ways. Pete didn't get any impressive fish last night, but by the time we left Liar's, he had the phone number of a very attractive young lady who approached him while we were there.
All I caught were a couple of fish, dammit.
Sometimes, I dare say MOST times, God works in mysterious ways. Pete didn't get any impressive fish last night, but by the time we left Liar's, he had the phone number of a very attractive young lady who approached him while we were there.
All I caught were a couple of fish, dammit.
