The other day as I was fishing for mackerel behind Joe's fish market, located at the east end of the Cape Cod Canal, I had a moment to reflect about the bass fishing this fall. I was fishing pole 75 on the mainland side of the big ditch and the bass were being extra careful not to break the surface of the water. In my intensity to observe a swirl or a color change in the moving east tide that I might cast my plug to I noticed a plug floating by. It was a new Hawg Hunter Mackerel Pencil Popper. The haze on the water this morning, along with the fact that the bass simply were not breaking, gave me the incentive to attempt to retrieve the floating plug. I got on my bike and followed the plug until I was in position to attempt a cast and snag the ever moving piece of wood. The back water eddies made all kinds of motion to the plug as it drifted in the current. No matter how I tried to snag this plug it just kept moving east out into Cape Cod Bay. I finally gave up after chasing the morning challenge for ten poles.

I headed back to where I had started to fish at day break and as I pedaled my bike I continued to look in the water for working fish. The haze on the water would lift every now and again and one really needed to concentrate in order to see any thing at all. In amazement I spotted another plug. This one was a Gibbs Yellow Polaris. Since I had already chased one plug without success it seemed fruitless to make another attempt at increasing my plug bag with another plug. As I rode my bike back to pole 75 I counted approximately 15 more plugs floating in the water. The plugs were in groups of two and three. I started to think that perhaps I should have begun to fish at pole 255 at the west end, which was my first choice that morning, but I changed my mind. I rode down to pole 330 to see if indeed I had missed a blitz. No one had a fish as I rode by many early morning pluggers casting into the moving east tide. As I rode my bike looking for any action I began to think, "Where do all the plugs go that float on the water after they are cast off or broken off by big fish". It seems only logical that all these floating plugs could end up in one spot on a given day.

During the winter months my pal Duchess and I walk the beaches from Town Neck in Sandwich to Popponesett and South Cape in Mashpee. Duchess is intent on looking for some old fish bones to chew on and I keep looking for plugs in the rock line. As we walked Town Neck beach one morning we came across a Rebel swimming plug that had many battle scars. I was overjoyed as I reached down to pick up my prize. Could this be where the lost plugs go? We continued to walk the beach with no further luck. One day as we were doing our stroll along the front beach, Duchess let me know that we were not alone. Off in the distance, in the marsh, was another beach-comber. I inquired as to what he was looking for and discovered he had a hand full of plugs. This was not a great many plugs considering how many are lost in this area by all who fish this place. I now know that we are not the only ones looking for these lost warriors that could tell a tall tail about the big fish they had hooked and how they lost the battle.

One day Duchess and I decided to investigate South Cape Beach in Mashpee after a southeast storm let up after blowing for three day's. We walked the beach beyond the golf course and all the way up to Popponesett beach. I was not able to locate one plug in the rack line left by the storm, Duchess however managed to uncover a few of her favorite tidbits, several dead crabs and old fish remains. We decided to turn around as it was time for coffee at Dunkin' Donuts. About half way back, I noticed a shiny object that was unusually white in the sea weed rack line. I reached down and picked up a new pearl Bomber that did not have hooks attached to it. Walking a few more steps I came upon an orange colored object protruding from the weeds. After removing the sea weed I found a battered Robert's plug that had caught many Bluefish before it was cut of. I could not help but wonder how one plug was in near perfect condition and the other scarred by many battles wound up in the same general place. Look harder I told myself, maybe this is where those plugs everyone loses are now hidden. Unfortunately our pot of gold at the end the rainbow was empty and the remaining walk back would be fruitless.

Duchess, who is a rotweiller/lab mix rescued from the animal shelter, and I continue to walk the beaches especially after an on shore storm. She looks for something to chew and I look for plugs. The walk is good for the heart and every find is good for an adrenaline rush as we keep looking for "Plug Heaven". Please let me know if you find it before I do. I can always look for lead weight, jig, or metal heaven.