As most of you know, the American Revolutionary War was begun some 229 years ago, with many of the engagements and battles being fought in the soil and on the waters of New England..... Well, come with me now to the present... August 6, 2004... to the coastline of New England.. on a small fishing pier, just offshore of a sleepy Connecticut town called West Haven... where history will repeat itself once again... or... will it?....

The troops were gathered together on the pier and were ready for action. They had been skunked constantly in recent days, and were experiencing severe strain on their wallets and other resources,(bait and gas )as well as an affront to their fishing abilities.....So there they stood, primed and ready to go... on an insignificant pier that would hereafter be known as.... "BUNKER PIER".....

The battle of Bunker Pier began at approximately 8:00 pm, when the sun was low on the horizon, a gentle breeze was wafting the salty smell of the sound into shore, and a flock of frenzied birds were spotted just to the west. "OH MY GOD, LOOK OVER THERE! ( just to the west, over by Stowes pier) The water was boiling like "a hot tub party in the 80s".... A quote was heard: "Those lucky Bast$%rds, they're right on top of them!" OHHHHH!, curse our misfortune of being in the wrong place at the wrong time!... Well before anyone could stop him, one of our "scouts", Oswaldo... sprinted with rod in hand, down the pier...300 yards across the beach... and up the other pier (a pretty impressive jaunt if you ask me) cast a spoon, and proceded to land a bluefish so big that he couldn't get it up on to the pier, he had to land it on the beach.

All of a sudden voices were heard saying: "I'm goin too... "Watch my stuff"... and... "Wait for me!"( maybe we should have let them go, but more on that in a minute) then a commanding voice was heard above the ruckus: "Stand firm men... Hold your ground... That is not your fight... Your fight will be coming soon enough!"...

You see, Oswaldo, in his haste, only got one shot at them because they were on the move. But where, you ask?... You guessed it!..They were on their way over to the pier where we were entrenched....and we were locked and loaded, ready to fire our spoons, plugs, and poppers,

"Here they come!" They're just out of reach... "Don't fire till you see the blue of their fins!"...(Or something to that effect. ) The names of the valiant that day were: PENN... SHIMANO...TICA.... UGLY STICK... SILSTAR... and even the oft frowned upon... ZEBCO...."I got one!".... "So do I!".... "Me too!".... Thus the battle went, both up and down the pier! Anyone who was in a postion to throw a lure was having the time of their life! As these where no small local militia blues that we've been getting in past weeks. Indeed, these were big, fat, nasty, chomping, "bluefish army regulars." :p

Now when the blues hit us, the first volley went off with precision and order. Then the "Fog Of War" set in, and "all hell broke loose!" I had just finished landing my third fish, when before me was the largest tangle of fishing lines this side of the Mijoy or any other party boat!.. Lines were everywhere, and I couldn't get my line back in the water! I actually got hooked in my shirt sleeve by an overzealous teenager! It amazes me how seemingly polite, civilized, sportsmen, become undone when the water is churning with bluefish.
"Get out of my spot!"... "Don't even think of coming over here!"..." Move it kid!"..... What a mess!... What an ordeal!.... What a great time!

Anyhow... very soon after the incident of the "Bloody Tangle", the blue fish army was done and retreated out into the sound, thoroughly whupped by the "Boys of Bunker Pier"...This entire event lasted all of 12 minutes. Everybody got at least a few blues in the 20"-25" inch range and survived the battle with little or no casualties. All in all, it was quite a heart pumping, adrenalene rushing filled time. It was a surf casters dream... the kind of action we landlubbing, "Pier Pilots" and "Jetty Jockeys" always hope for but seldom see.

So... the next time you pass by the piers of West Haven Ct, on the way to the blue waters of Long Island Sound and beyond ...Think of us who were in the struggle that day... We few... we happy few... who rose up and seized our 12 minutes of glory!..... Hmmmm... Maybe I'll go back tomorrrow