by Steve “Tuna” Tornovish
One of my favorite books to read with my daughters way back in once upon a time land was Diary of a Wimpy Kid by Greg Heffley. The Wimpy Kid books are laugh-out-loud funny and completely relatable. The first book in the series introduced me to the dreaded “Cheese Touch,” a curse of sorts that is to be avoided at all costs. I fully understood that the cheese touch exists in reality. Sometimes the dice go cold. Sometimes they simply freeze up, even in a hot August on our beautiful island of Nantucket.
Man oh man, there’s been some fishing slumps happening on our beaches in the past week or so. The bluefish have been spending their time in the deeper waters. The bonito, in a strange plot twist, have been around in greater numbers than I’ve ever seen—go figure! It’s made for some challenging days for us surfcasting types, let me tell ya. Challenging in a “cheese touch” sort of way.
Slumps are funny things. You never know that a slump has started. Slumps sneak up on you. They’re relatively tough to quantify unless you’re a baseball player. Those poor baseball guys have analytics geeks swarming around them nonstop, examining everything that they do. I imagine that news of one’s slump is being tweeted out before the newly-minted slumpee can make his way back to the dugout after grounding out for the third time in a game. And once you think that you’re in a slump, it can become a self-fulfilling prophecy.
A couple of charters in a row with no fish had me pretty down. I always want my clients to catch fish. Hey, I always want to catch fish!! But it doesn’t always happen. And two consecutive no-fish days sounds mighty like a slump. Or at least a mild cheese touch. Ouch!
Sadaharu Oh was the greatest home run hitter in the history of baseball. During his career, Sadaharu hit 868 home runs. He had a career batting average of .301. He won back-to-back Japan League triple crowns in 1973 and 1974. I read his autobiography when I was a kid. I remember him discussing slumps and how he got out of them. Mr. Oh talked about one time when he had been sucking mightily for an extended stretch. All of those wonderful self-doubting thoughts started to run through his head (and I thought that only musicians got those!). Finally, the mighty slugger Sadaharu sought out the advice of a wise old teammate, who promptly took our hero out for a night on the town. Sadaharu got knee-walking drunk on sake, fell into his apartment and slept on the floor. He showed up at the park late for the next day’s afternoon game, still fuzzy from the night before. He staggered up to the plate, smashed a couple of taters and POOF —the monkey on his back was gone. Lots of life lessons there for a kid to take in, don’t you think?
I’ve been sober for more than 37 years, so I don’t think the sake drinking route is the right way for me. So what do I do when the cheese touch has me in its grasp? Well, if what I’m doing isn’t working, I try to change things up. Pretty simple, right? As I’ve learned, I can only control what I can control. The wind is going to do what it wants. Tropical storms are going to stop by to say “hello.” In some ways, a good storm can shuffle the deck and get the fish moving again. Thus, a big wind shift earlier this week was oddly welcoming. Would it get the bluefish moving closer to shore? Only time would tell.
I had an early morning charter scheduled on Thursday, August 8 with the father- and-son team of David Marrin Sr. and Jr. David Jr. and his wife were on-island for a couple of weeks with their newborn son, Rucker, and his folks came up to spend some time with their new grandson. Positive vibes, right? I drove the Wauwinet Road with a happy mindset, trying not to dwell on the past couple of trips. And then BAM! A deer came bounding out of the bushes, right in front of me. The poor creature never had a chance. Nor did I, for that matter. I had never struck a deer before, and I felt absolutely terrible. The cheese touch had reared its ugly head again before a single cast was thrown.
The Marrin crew were a welcome relief to me, their extremely shaken up fishing guide. I enjoyed getting to meet them and to talk about things other than the freshly diminished deer population. Both men were experienced fishers. The weather was ok, with very gusty east-southeast winds. We got right at it, looking for fish. We tried a variety of spots up, down, and all around both sides of the peninsula of Great Point. Nothing. Not a hit. Oh yeah, the cheese touch was flexing on me big time.
The Marrins had no interest in getting caught up in the evil fromage that was afflicting me, however. They kept on casting. We had a couple of hits that were spaced out just far enough to keep our collective spirits up. Finally I heard David Sr. say the magic words: “I’m on!” I watched as the elder Mr. Marrin skillfully fought and landed a beautiful bonito.
I asked David Jr. what his dad thought about the experience. He told me, “This was their first time on Nantucket. They loved it. He loved it! As a predominately (largemouth) bass fisherman, he wasn’t prepared for the fight but thought it was awesome. Such a powerful fish, considering the size!”
David Jr. told me by text that he could get used to the way we fish up here. “I thought it was such a cool way to fish. I can’t wait to do it again. Our surf fishing in VA / MD is mostly bottom fishing, which isn’t that fun imho. Also, the scenery was incredible, never fished anywhere like that. Unreal natural beauty!”
Could this successful trip be the start of something good? Only time would tell. I had a trip scheduled the next day with Liz Sullivan and her son, Rivers. Liz had told me in her original message that the 8-year-old Rivers loves to fish. Hmmmm, I thought, that’s a real young age for surfcasting. But I’ve seen some 8-year-old fishers who could really cast. I explained my concerns about both the required skills and conditions (still a big, honking Debby-inspired wind). Liz was so positive about her son that I agreed that we’d get out there and see how Rivers would fare.
When I got my first look at Rivers, I began to comprehend why Liz had such confidence. This awesome little guy is as determined as any adult that I’ve ever met! He looked me right in the eyes and shook my hand. Wow. It was clear that he’d been brought up right. Rivers was wearing a United States Marine Corps. hat. I asked him about it. He told me, “It’s my dad’s hat. He graduated from the Naval Academy and served in the Marine Corps.”
Young Rivers glowed with pride as he told me about his father, Wilson Sullivan. Liz filled in some blanks for me, telling me that Wilson graduated from the U.S. Naval Academy in 2002. He served as a Marine Corps. Officer and reconnaissance platoon commander until he left active duty in 2007. Wilson was back at work in Charlotte, NC, as Liz and Rivers took an extended vacation with Liz’s parents, Kathy and David Cheek, at their house in Siasconset. Although I did not have the honor of meeting Wilson, the love that Rivers had for his dad told me everything about this man.
Liz, her mother Kathy, Rivers, and I discussed the task at hand. I told them that we would have to fish into a wind that was now blowing somewhere around 30 knots. It would be a tall order for me, never mind a little dude who’s heading into the third grade. Rivers was up to the challenge. We got down to business.
It took some effort but I was soon able to hook a fish. I passed my rod to Rivers who battled the surf and the fight of a medium sized bluefish. It was fantastic to see the joy on his face as Rivers gave me his fishing pliers to remove the hook. We released that fish and shortly thereafter replayed the scene with a second bluefish. Rivers was determined to catch his own fish so that he could enter the August Blues tournament, but the wind was just a bit too much for him. Still, we had two fish on the beach and the smell of cheese had faded from stinky limburger to a mild cheddar.
I was very impressed with everything about young Rivers. That feeling only grew when Kathy, his grandmother, told me that Rivers had broken his collarbone a couple of months earlier. Clearly, this was not the kind of guy who was going to let little things like broken bones slow him down. “I’m going to join the Marines one day and fly the F-22 Raptor. I practice all the time on a flight simulator!”
Rivers, you have the spirit, smarts, and determination to do anything that you want to do. And an awesome head of hair! Come back and fish with me any time—you’re a fine edition to my ever-growing team of amazing young fishers. And thanks so much for helping me get past the cheese touch!
Steve “Tuna” Tornovish is a Nantucket native who has spent his life fishing from the beaches of his beloved island. He loves to introduce clients to the joy of fishing with his Nantucket Island Fishing Adventures: stevetuna.com