Into Darkness – Cape Cod Surfcasting Report

With ambient light from cities, highways and harbors infiltrating most of nighttime fishing spots in the Northeast—from the streetlight-lined banks of the Cape Cod Canal to the boardwalk-bordered beaches of the Jersey Shore—it’s easy to forget what  it’s like to fish in true darkness. Last night served as a solid reminder as I walked out of the parking lot and into the can’t-see-the-hand-in-front-of-your-face blackness of a cloudy night on the Outer Beaches of Cape Cod.

There’s something uncomfortable about being in complete darkness, the primal fear of the things that go bump in the night. I fought the urge to walk back to the car, drive back to my house, and plunk down in front of the soothing light of my television set.

As I made my way over the sand, to an area where I’d had luck last spring, I strained my eyes to see something, anything. I could just make out the lines of white as breaking waves approached the shore. Phosphorescence ignited the waves and formed a green-glowing border at the high-water mark.  I thought I saw a figure at the water’s edge, but wasn’t sure until a red headlamp illuminated a thrashing bass.

I waded shin-deep into the foam left by the breakers and cast the lure I’d clipped to my rod before sundown—a yellow Daiwa SP Minnow.  With nothing to see or be distracted by in the pitch darkness, I concentrated entirely on my retrieve, feeling the plug work down-current as it was pushed and pulled by the surf. It took just two casts to find a striper, a small one, but with the waves and current working in his favor he put a good bend in my beach rod and even stole a click or two of drag from the reel.

After several follow-up casts with no hits, I switched to a yellow needlefish. A few casts and a little way down the beach, a better fish grabbed the needle.  This one took more drag, and was far more difficult to steer onto the beach.  Eventually a wave left him high and dry, and in the beam of my light I made out the big white belly of a well-fed 20-pounder.

Over the next few hours, the fish came in waves.  Two eclipsed the 28-inch mark, but most fell short. A very large fish made off with my SP Minnow after a long run and some shoulder-wrenching headshakes that left my hands quaking and my head spinning.

Tonight’s forecast is partly cloudy.  It won’t be enough to completely block the moonlight, but it may obscure it enough to bring the bass back into the surf. I bought a new yellow SP Minnow at lunch, I’ve tied a fresh leader, double-checked my knots and I’m ready for another trip into darkness.