THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Friday, December 15, 1995 TAG: 9512140153
SECTION: VIRGINIA BEACH BEACON PAGE: 15 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: Lee Tolliver
LENGTH: Medium: 78 lines
Brisk northerly winds kicked up a nasty white-capped swell - a scene ugly enough to keep a vast majority of this fall's massive fleet of striped bass anglers in port.
Perfect!
Just the kind of conditions that keep fair-weather fishermen at home, leaving the waters wide open for the diehards who fish no matter what kind of interference Mother Nature runs.
And the fact that there were fewer noisy competing anglers than usual out there churning up the waters made hopes of a good evening rise.
But this particular evening was kind of puzzling. It wasn't really that bad and the forecasters were calling for it to get better. And, indeed, it did.
This trip on the Chesapeake Bay turned quickly into a perfect night for fishing along the bridge-tunnel span that is the short-term home of some of the best striped bass fishing in the world.
At this time of year, the bigger fish are caught at the northern-most reaches of the span and with wind blowing from the north, it's usually more calm on the Eastern Shore side.
Still, boats were few.
Fantastic!
And the wind was quickly falling out and changing directions, knocking down the seas and making for almost flat conditions. With a nearly full moon on the rise and a swift tidal current running, this trip had all the makings of a storybook outing.
As Herb Gordon cranked up his 24-foot center console fishing machine and blasted away from the Lynnhaven Inlet shoreline, it was clear the choice to go ahead and go fishing had been the right one.
Our timing had been perfect. The sun was slowly setting in the south west sky, silhouetting the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel before it dropped out of sight - leaving behind a bright orange sky that tricked the senses into thinking all of South Hampton Roads had been set ablaze.
The entire area could have been burning up for all we cared. Only one thing was on our mind at this point - striped bass, big ones and lots of them, caught on tackle that was relatively light for battling such monsters of the fin fish world.
It didn't take long for the anticipation to turn into adrenalin-fueled excitement. The fish were there and - like they often are this time of year - were eager to feed.
We were into fish almost from the get-go and they were nice ones in the 15- to 20-pound class. Light tackle made it even more of a test on the abilities of angler, equipment and boat operator.
We were able to pull some fish away from the pilings of the span, but others were simply too powerful for the tackle being used and Gordon had to skillfully maneuver his vessel under the bridge so that fish could be fought down current without the threat of them cutting the line on the jagged surface of the pilings.
Within a couple of short hours, we had caught our limit of two fish each and they were all between 20 and 25 pounds. We continued to fish in hopes of hooking up with one of the monsters that earn awards from the Virginia Saltwater Fishing Tournament - 44 inches long for released fish and 40-and-over pounds for a keeper.
But it wasn't to happen. Most of the fish were clones of each other and we saw no need to stay all night working for a trophy. We packed it in, took one more admiring look in the cooler and dashed south toward Lynnhaven Inlet - still visible from the Eastern Shore because of crystal clear skies.
On the calm ride in, we marveled at the peace and beauty of an evening on the Chesapeake Bay. But as we approached the second island of the man-made structure, we noticed police lights flashing at the entrances to the tunnel on both the first and second islands.
It was a quick reminder that we had left the casual world of a great evening of fishing and were rapidly approaching the hustle and bustle world of reality.
Oh well, any time away from that environment is a big help. This had been a soothing evening of stress management.
Perfect! by CNB