Rockaway Outdoors/Tales From The Wheelhouse
Taking a little break from the mundane chores of boat maintenance I decided to take the Karen Ann for a little spin around the bay. Wetting a line as we fishermen say. Well wouldn’t you know it, striped bass have arrived albeit a few weeks prior to the season.
Anyway, it was a surprise of sorts and the bass were returned to their home. So, that being said, barring no unusuals it looks like bassin’ should be right on cue for the 15. Across the pond New Jersey is also being treated to an earlier than usual run of bass. Seems like ocean schools of menhaden; bunker in these parts are filtering in the bays with each tide.
I took a ride down south, into Wachpreague, Virginia with Captain Frank last week. An unexpected surprise was the local diner; there we found eggs at seventy-five cents, each cooked to your preference, bacon at a buck and grits seventy-five.
Well we couldn’t pass that up. Satisfied we moved on and as to be expected we found ourselves hitting a few boat yards and tackle shops along the way. It was pretty much the usual chatter from fishermen bragging about their catch and being secretive to their whereabouts, sort of the universal language of fishermen.
Returning from Virginia we hit Crisfield and some other ports just taking in the local flavor so to speak. I noshed on some Maryland crab cakes and fried chicken southern style not bad, not bad at all. Moving right along we crossed Delaware into Jersey.
Jersey’s pit stop found us holding a few Philly cheese steaks or should I say Jersey cheese steaks if there is such a thing. Regardless of the geography they found a home in my stomach.
At last back in New York, and as we shot up Cross Bay Boulevard we had to pull into New Park for a few slices but decided to crack a whole pie instead. Hey this traveling builds up an appetite. Until the next tide …