Big storm clouds surf fishing

SACO, Maine — The sea gull came sweeping by my fishing rod without seeing the line. A moment later, the large bird was tangled around one wing. I grabbed the rod from the sand spike and glanced over to my right. Another fisherman, one whom I had helped with a big problem the day before, came running over. “I’ll grab the bird; you untangle the line,” I said to him. He made it very clear that he was not about to latch on to that bird. Just moments later, the wisdom of that decision made itself known. I was not fast enough as I reached quickly for his neck and that long, sharp beak came down, struck me on the hand between the thumb and the index finger and drew blood. The bird was in a near-frenzy and I made a second attempt, moving my hand, back and forth to confuse the critter, then finally striking, grabbing the bird around the neck. With a firm grip, but not so tight as to strangle the bird, I held its neck with my left hand and its body with my right while my compatriot slowly untangled the line from around the wing. It took about two minutes and the bird thrashed about constantly, but finally the line was untangled. Finally freed, I placed the gull on the sand. It walked across the beach for a few seconds, obviously confused, then took wing, unharmed. The really strange thing about all of this is that it was the second time in three years that a seagull has flown into my fishing line, become tangled and had to be released. Ironically, earlier in the day, I had a conversation with another angler, a fellow Vermonter and fisherman who has a summer place a few blocks off the beach. I first met Sandy while fishing in Maine some seven or eight years ago. We bumped into each other again last week and fished together, albeit briefly. Despite long years of fishing in Saco Bay, Sandy had never had a sea gull entangled in fishing line. The week started really well with two legal stripers taken on the first afternoon out and two more legal fish on Sunday. On Monday, son Mike arrived from Concord, New Hampshire, and the fishing was slow. We fished both high and low tides and I managed to bring in a striper with a top-water plug. The next day, after Mike returned home to prepare for the opening of school, it was the same thing: A bad wind and bright, sunny weather. Then things turned really ugly. A big storm the night before dropped some 6½ inches of rain on the Portland-Saco area. Early the next morning, on Thursday, I headed out with backpack and rods, and was stunned by what stretched along the beach: lawn chairs swept down from beach-front yards, a high tide that came up to the dune grass and ocean debris everywhere. Not only was the weather a nightmare, the storm introduced a massive gathering of off-red seaweed. The stuff, wrapping itself around the monofilament line, made fishing impossible. But things turned around. Later in the day, Sandy and I walked down hoping to fish, only to discover that the red tide of seaweed was with us again. Making our way along the shore, he discovered a mess of shells, clams, crabs and a variety of other sea life stranded in a dried tidal pool. I was fishing with clams so we went to work, gathering about two dozen of the bait. Sandy got a bucket and, with sharp knives, we proceeded to open the clams and drop the stuff into the bucket. We split the catch of clams, then froze the prize for future use. I fished again, on both tides, on Thursday and Friday, but the seaweed persisted. It wasn’t to be. Sometimes, it just goes like that. The weather was somewhat of a bust, fishing-wise, but there was still a week spent along the coast of Maine — sea glass, sunrises, a storm of the summer, tips from Sandy on how to catch stripers and a long, relaxing week. d.jensen62@yahoo.com

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