A Martha's Vineyard Shark Tale

Over the years, I’ve experienced many exciting moments fly fishing the beaches of Martha’s Vineyard. Last night made the list. 

An eight-weight Sage fly rod and Valentine reel loaded with a floating line and 30-pound tippet — I was looking for a Derby bluefish — was no match for a big brown shark.

I was with Gary and his daughter’s boyfriend, Alex. They’re from Los Angeles. I wanted to introduce them to the experience of catching a striped bass from the beach.

The sun had just set. Prime time. On his first cast, Alex hooked a small striped bass on a Kastmaster tipped with a teaser. There was excitement all around.

I noticed a subtle spray of bait off the beach a short distance from where Alex was casting. I walked past him and cast a “red devil” fly, a floating fly tied on a long shank hook, I hoped would keep me from being cut off by a sharp-toothed bluefish. I wasn’t expecting a set of teeth further up the food chain.

On my second cast, a striped bass smashed the fly. I felt a sense of satisfaction that my hunch that there was something other than bait was correct. The fish made a run. When it stopped, I began trying to bring it to shore. It made another run.

My Sage fly rod is very light, perfect for an aging shoulder. The Valentine 95 fly reel, made locally in Massachusetts 40 years ago by a machinist fisherman and no longer in production, is a simple yet fine piece of equipment. 

It is a direct drive reel, meaning one turn of the handle picks up one turn of line. When a fish is running, that spinning reel handle can deliver quite a whack to my fingers if my hand gets in the way of it. Turning a nut on the side plate increases pressure on matched concave-convex stainless steel washers that create friction on the spool and, in turn, drag on the fish.

I’ve landed some big stripers with this setup. But I learned I cannot force a fish to shore.

I was bringing the striper to shore and expecting to slide it up the beach when there was a large swirl, and a fin broke the surface about 15 feet off the beach in about three feet of water. 

It’s a shark. What the hell. (The striper and I were both thinking the same thing.)

As I was trying to reel in the frantic striped bass was trying to get the hell away from the shark. This drama was playing out less than ten feet off the beach. 

Then the shark had the bass. Instead of a fly caught striper, I was now battling a striped bass caught brown shark, which I estimated weighed about 80 pounds and was about six feet long. Wild.

One bite and I was left reeling in what remained of my unfortunate striped bass. I unhooked the still gasping head and threw it into the water.

The shark swirled and swam off with its dessert.

Gary and Alex cast standing on the sand for the rest of the evening.