About a year ago Steve Kgb and I were surf fishing near the entrance to Islands Beach State Park when we first had the idea to get kayaks.  We stood there on the beach and watched with envy a couple of kayakers pull in very large bass by snagging and dropping bunker (menhadden).  The journey from that point had begun.  By the end of the summer 2011 we had kayaks.   We were practicing surf launches/ landings and self-rescues.  Getting your kayak flipped in the surf is one of the worst feelings.
     I always kept that image in my head of a 40lb bass being caught on snagged bunker.  Yesterday all of the elements lined up.  I had off work, wave height was 1 to 2 ft, wind was less than 10mph, schools of bunker out front.  I bought a new snagger and after checking out the beach a little further north went to the same spot we saw the Bunker (and whale) last year.  First thing was to take a look.  The wind was strong enough to make little white caps, which made looking for bunker pods/ splashes a little difficult, but they were there.  They we there, and not more than 50 yards off shore.   My heart races, after all, for a YEAR I've been thinking about this moment.
    Minimal gear, that's the key.  We've been fishing in the bay with our kayaks and taking the kitchen sink, but now it was time to take a year's preparation and put it to test.  One rod. No hooks on it.  Strapped   down.  Paddle strapped down.  Snagger, and two lures sealed in the hatch between my legs.  It's a pain to get flipped in the surf in your kayak, it's a bigger pain to be flipped then impailed by one of your own hooks.  Everything tightly stowed and ready to go, I drag the boat to the surfs edge.   I only forgot one thing, a bottle of water.  Back to the car, bunker splashing.  Time is of the essence.

birds

     I get near the pod of bunker and first try I snag on.  I wait.  Nothing.   It kind of drifts towards me.  I pull it in, put it by my feet and snag another.  I don't know how long they'll be here and If I should have been collecting bait.  (I probably should have been)  Nothing was attacking my Bunker.  I'm  a little disappointed now.  The pod dissipated pretty quickly, maybe ten minutes later, though it felt like an eternity.

     There were birds working farther out, so I troll my wounded Bunker out to them to see what they're onto.  As I got closer I noticed that only the smaller birds were diving, probably for spearing or sand eels, and i was looking for Bunker pods.  Since I'm alone I'm hesitant to get too far from shore.  I start to make my way back towards shore.  Just about an hour into this ordeal, and feeling pretty disappointed (only because I was so excited to begin with) I feel it.  Tap tap.  Tug tug.  My heart races.  Bunker splashes around me.  Tap tap.  My baitrunner zings, then stops.  Slack line.  I reel it towards me to take up the slack.  Tension, but is it hooked?  I pull a little more.  She pulls. It's on! I reel hard thinking that I'm setting the hook, tighten drag, get her closer, can see her shadow, her long body, she says hi... lets go of the bunker and swims away.   Not hooked?  After all that, not hooked!  Over the course of the next two hours I reeled in two half eaten bunker (bluefish)  and had another close encounter with a bass.  I was down to drifting a half eaten bunker and had that tapped on.

Half eaten bunker

    The pods of bunker had come and gone.  The sun was behind a cloud.  I had been out there for three and a half hours and had that feeling that I needed to call it.  I still planned on fishing after dark in the Sedges, so I needed to reserve some energy.  
     Now the dreaded part.  Ask anyone, surf landing is tricky.  I am not well experienced in it, and my success rate is low.  If the kayak gets turned at all to less than a 90 degree angle from the waves, the smallest wave will flip your boat over.  It's really simple, your boat will flip.  Since this is my feeling on the matter, I'm not looking forward to it.  Plus the swells were pretty big, even though the wave action at the surf line was low.  I go for the reverse landing.  Face the waves, (the beach is behind you, you can't see it) let them take you in to shore, keep the boat perpendicular, when you can, jump out and push your boat towards the shore while holding onto a rope.  Next thing I know, I'm on the beach.  Done......

the view from sea

     I make my way to Betty and Nicks and buy four eels (they were all very small).  I have a funny feeling like no other fishing will ever be as exciting, even though I didn't even get a solid hook up.  I try waiting until dark to fish, but it takes too long.  I fished from 8 to 10:15 p.m. Not much, but I guess I had enough excitement.  8 to 9 I fished an eel, nothing, but I kept him just in case.  I had the next two of my eels tangle up line and unhook themselves.  I was cursing.  My last live eel produces a bass, both the bass and eel come undone at the side of the boat.  (I am now cursing louder.)  I'm down to one dead eel, and ready to leave.  Tide is slack and has been feeling that way since I got there.  Also the tide as low as I've ever seen it.  The dead eel produces a short, landed, about twenty inches, released quickly, no pictures, I was done.