Fishing rods sprout from beat-up trucks. Human cormorants line the Menemsha Harbor jetties. Caps with a distinctive striped bass logo are the prevailing fashion. The signs are unmistakable for those familiar with the rhythms of the Island: it’s Derby time.

The Martha’s Vineyard Striped Bass & Bluefish Derby – “the Derby” – celebrates its eightieth anniversary this fall. A community institution built around a five-week fishing tournament held from mid-September to mid-October, the Derby’s hold on Island residents and returning visitors is anchored in a shared cultural experience that transcends prizes won and fish caught.

Martha’s Vineyard has long been a fabled sport fishing destination dating back to the nineteenth-century Squibnocket Club in Chilmark, one of many private striped bass fishing clubs that once lined the New England coast. However, it was the egalitarian nature of the Derby that introduced generations of new visitors to the intoxicating experience of fishing the Island’s rock-strewn coastlines, crashing surf beaches, and swirling currents where big fish swim.

For many longtime Derby participants, even as their casts fall a bit shorter, the siren call of one more cast still beckons. Fishing in the Derby is part of their DNA.

Journalist David Kinney’s book The Big One: An Island, An Obsession, and the Furious Pursuit of a Great Fish (Atlantic Monthly Press, 2009) is an incisive and wonderfully entertaining account of the 2007 Derby and its history, culture, and characters. Kinney asked Steve Amaral of Oak Bluffs, who fished the first Derby in 1946 with his parents and brother, and has fished in every one since (but for one year in military service), why he still does it. Amaral answered: “It just turned into a way of life for me. It’s part of me.”

The Derby’s rules, prize structure, and organization have undergone significant changes over the last eight decades. Past prizes have included hotel stays, Gay Head (now Aquinnah) building lots, vehicles, boats, and cash. The eightieth Derby grand prize is an Eastern Boat Works twenty-two-foot Sisu Hardtop with an outboard and trailer. One of the six anglers standing on top of the Derby’s piscatorial hill with the heaviest bluefish (blue), bonito (bone), and false albacore (albie) in the shore and boat divisions at the end of the tournament will win it by luck of the draw.

The striped bass, once the focus of intense competition by skilled bass anglers, was removed in 2020 to comply with federal regulations that now dictate a recreational slot limit of between twenty-eight and less than thirty-one inches. The slot limit is one of a number of restrictions imposed in states along the East Coast route to help build up the struggling population of the migratory game fish. Gone are the glory days when the arrival of a weather-beaten, bleary-eyed fisherman carrying a striped bass over forty pounds to the Derby scale sent a ripple of excitement through the weigh station. But the constant undercurrent remains the camaraderie of a shared state of fishing mania on an Island where, for five weeks, day-to-day life is determined by the wind direction, the tide cycle, and the moon’s phase, as fishermen chase every hunch and rumor of big fish.

Successful Derby alchemy combines perseverance, dedication, fishing skill, luck, and the intangible ability to divine the fishiness of a location. It also helps to be a bit nutty. But doing crazy things in the Derby doesn’t feel crazy when you tell your story to other crazies, because they’ll agree that whatever you did made sense – it’s the Derby!

One year, Bob Yapp of West Tisbury caught a bonito that wrapped itself around a lobster pot buoy. Without hesitation, his friend and school teacher Robert Lane of Oak Bluffs jumped into the water and swam out to free the line, being careful only to handle the pot and not touch the fishing line, which would have disqualified the fish. Only a Derby fisherman would do that.

Derby president John Custer of Vineyard Haven, and Tisbury School principal, grew up fishing and shellfishing on the Island. However, it wasn’t until he returned home after college and joined the Derby committee that he began to appreciate its place in the community. 

“When you live here, it’s easy to take this beautiful Island and having convenient access to water for granted,” Custer said. “So, just meeting more and more people over the years who express how much they love it – that’s given me a broader perspective of how much the Derby truly means to people.”

Custer described Edwin “Whit” Holden of Maryland, who is “definitely in his seventies, but may be in his eighties,” and drives a Toyota Tacoma with an “MVDERBY” license plate. Holden comes for the whole month, and “he fishes hard,” Custer said, giving him the highest form of Derby praise.

“I probably see him three, four, maybe five times during the Derby, and every time he expresses how much he loves it, how much it means to him.”

***

The first Derby was held in 1946 when a group of Vineyard businessmen, looking for a strategy to attract tourist dollars during the slow, post–Labor Day off-season, turned to a resource the not yet fully electrified Island had in abundance: good fishing for New England’s premier game fish.

It was one year after the end of World War II. The nation was adjusting to a post-war economy. Martha’s Vineyard’s tourist economy ended on Labor Day weekend. This was years before a celluloid people-eating great white shark or the arrival of a sax-playing president from Arkansas helped make the Island a staple of the national tabloid press. There was no Steamship Authority and its myriad of rules for securing a coveted car reservation; only the newly established Massachusetts Steamship Lines, a private, Islander-owned ferry company that provided year-round service and struggled financially to stay afloat.

Public relations expert Nat Sperber, a passionate angler, hit on the idea of a fishing contest for striped bass to rival similar competitions along the Atlantic Coast. The Martha’s Vineyard Rod & Gun Club in Edgartown agreed to sponsor the event.

The first two years of the Derby were a striped bass–only affair. Bluefish were added in 1948 when the toothy fish with the personality of a Cape buffalo began appearing in greater numbers in our waters. Speedsters bonito and false albacore were added in 1981. The here again–gone again weakfish made a brief appearance in the lineup between 1981 and 1986.

In a story published October 18, 1946, “Bass Derby Ends In Blaze of Glory; Prizes Awarded,” the Vineyard Gazette – a booster then and now – reported, “A weary group of committeemen, of judges and of sports writers from far and near gave a concerted sigh of relief, but in the same breath acclaimed the derby one of the finest ever staged, and successful to the final detail in every respect. The talk of the day centered around next year’s derby, and the declaration was oft repeated that the derby is to be an annual event, the fame of which will continue to spread as it has started to do this season.”

How many entered the 1946 Derby? The Gazette reported that “nearly a thousand total was the way the committee expressed it.” Two-thirds of the entrants were from the mainland, “representing 29 states and the territory of Ontario.” The 1946 contest categories included Islander, non-resident, women, senior, juvenile, and veteran. Prizes were handed out for fish caught in the surf, from a bridge or anchored boat, and while trolling.  

Gordon Pittman of New York caught a forty-seven-pound striped bass and won the grand prize of $1,000 and the non-resident first prize of a one-week July vacation for two at The Harborside Inn in Edgartown, with “air travel from New York or Boston and return.” The second prize in the non-resident category, if offered today, would be all the incentive needed for anyone to take up fishing. Daniel Huntley of Buzzards Bay won a buildable lot in Gay Head, donated by Cronig’s Real Estate of Vineyard Haven.

The prizes handed out in undesignated categories included various fishing lures, one case of canned peas, one bottle of Sandy Macdonald scotch whiskey (which has significantly increased in value), two bottles of Southern Comfort bourbon, and 300 chopsticks (because apparently, fishermen ate a lot of Chinese food while drinking whiskey and fishing). 

Demonstrating an environmental awareness that would continue as the Derby matured, a conservation prize went to the participant who caught and released the most stripers in any twenty-four-hour period. That went to L.D. “Pop” Adam of Illinois, who also, in an achievement described as “outstanding,” won the first prize for the largest fish landed with a flyrod: a fourteen-pound, four-ounce striped bass, “taken in the rough waters of Devil’s Bridge Ledge.”

Mental health was not overlooked. A “consolation” prize of a weekend on the Vineyard, all expenses paid, was given “to a person catching no fish, to be drawn by lot.” Harleigh Everett of Waltham took that honor after “18 hours of consecutive fishing with no fish.”

Those early years saw the establishment of a tradition of hardcore fishing that would continue in the decades that followed. In a story published on October 21, 1955, the Gazette reported, “In all the tumult of a savage easterly gale accompanied by lashing rain, the 10th annual fishing derby came to a close on Saturday, with contestants fishing, or certainly attempting to fish, up to the final hour.” In a Derby first, Louise deSomov of New York hauled in a forty-five-pound, nine-ounce bass and became the first woman to win a Derby grand prize for visitors: a $500 U.S. savings bond and a redwood hunting lodge to be built on land donated by the Cronig real estate agency.

Not surprisingly, the Island’s natural beauty was as much of an attraction as the fishing. The Gazette reported, “Many of the visitors regarded the fishing as secondary to the vacation program, and fished only when conditions were most pleasant, without particular regard for possible prizes…no report has reached the Gazette of any clash between fishermen and land-owners, nor of disgruntled visitors, soured because of bad weather or poor luck, all of which is novel and suggestive of fruition of the derby committee’s prime aim, to extend the Island vacation season. The reappearance of numerous visitors also supports this belief.”

Surfcaster Mark Wrabel of Connecticut, a retired pharmacist, has fished in the Derby for more than thirty years. He returns year after year, he said, for the fishing and the pleasure of standing equal before Neptune, casting from the beach. “It doesn’t matter where you live, what you do for work, how successful you are, or the tackle you own,” he said. “The common denominator is, are you catching fish?”

He added, “Over the years, I’ve celebrated weddings, anniversaries, births, celebrations of life, and graduations; I’ve witnessed the growth of families; and enjoyed casual get-togethers and formal dinners with friends I’ve made fishing the beach during the Derby. I keep in touch with friends I’ve made, and I look forward to meeting and making new ones every Derby.”

In the early 1950s, the Martha’s Vineyard Chamber of Commerce took over the Derby sponsorship from the Rod & Gun Club. Following the 1986 Derby and years of faltering leadership, the Chamber handed the fishing tournament off to a new nonprofit corporation led by civic-minded Island fishermen, many of whom were already closely associated with the contest. Edgartown School principal Ed Jerome was named president of the corporation, a position he held until his death in 2018, and businesswoman Carol Koser was named vice president.

Jerome played a pivotal role in the creation of the scholarship program and worked tirelessly to support it. “Our goals are simple,” he said in the 2013 souvenir book welcome message. “Give back to the community, preserve and protect our natural resources and help young people in their efforts to further their education.” By any measure, the Derby has achieved that goal. In 2025, with the support of various foundations, groups, and families, it awarded $115,000 in scholarships to Martha’s Vineyard Regional High School graduates.

Chris Scott of Edgartown, retired executive director of the Vineyard Preservation Trust, has served as Derby treasurer for the past twenty-five years. “The Derby today is just as important to the Island as it was when it was first established, maybe more so, because there are fewer traditional things that we hang on to,” he said. “It just seems like so many things go by the wayside, but the Derby hasn’t.”

Last spring, Scott and other committee members handed out scholarships to eleven regional high school graduates. Zak Potter, Mason Warburton, and Volkert Kleeman were among the recipients. “I remember them, you know, lugging in bluefish when they were five and six years old,” Scott said.

The calm, collected, and affable 2025 Derby chairman, Joe El-Deiry of Vineyard Haven, is at the helm for his fifth year. The former Wall Street trader visited the Island one summer with a broken heart, but it was mended when he met an Island girl and started fishing; he never left. Since 1994, he’s kept the wheels moving smoothly for John Keene Excavation in West Tisbury.

“Yeah. It worked out well,” El-Deiry said.

Watching parents with their kids come to the weigh station is particularly gratifying for him. “I know how important those moments are for families because I know how important they were for my son, Luke, and me,” he said.

***

From mid-September to mid-October, the heart of the Derby beats inside a small, weathered shack on Edgartown Harbor when the door to the Brigadoon-like weigh station opens for business morning and night for thirty-five days.

In the evening, tourists, locals, and envious fishless fishermen gather to watch anglers bring their catch to the official Derby scale, which is often manned by forty-plus-year volunteer veteran Mike Cassidy of Edgartown. If a huge fish arrives, all eyes fix on the blackboard where the names of grand and division leaders and the weight of their fish are displayed. On the last day of the tournament, leaders and their supporters, and the other volunteers who make it all happen, wait anxiously for the final ritual: the 10 p.m. ringing of the handbell, which signals the end of the tournament. There have been some dramatic finishes.

In 1983, a young Steve Morris of Oak Bluffs, owner of Dick’s Bait & Tackle in that town, weighed in a grand-prize-winning 49.96-pound striped bass on the last night. In 1992, a school of big bluefish hit Chappaquiddick on the last Saturday, and a 17.35-pound bluefish propelled Larry Mercier of Edgartown to the top of the shore division.

Fisherman and artist Kib Bramhall of West Tisbury fished in his first Derby in 1951. He holds the shore striped bass flyrod record for a forty-two-pound, fourteen-ounce fish he caught on Cape Pogue after twelve hours without a hit on the last day of the 1981 contest. It is his favorite Derby memory.

Not surprisingly, the Derby evokes a range of conflicting emotions. In his lovely book, Bright Waters, Shining Tides: Reflections on a Lifetime of Fishing (Vineyard Stories, 2011), Bramhall said he dislikes the fact that it causes overcrowding at many of his favorite fishing sites. “Yet, I love the Derby because of its history and traditions, because of all the wonderful fishermen I have met, and, yes, because of the competition.”

The Derby confers significant fishing glory on the members of the Island’s tight fishing fraternity. Although rare, fishermen have cheated. A man from Connecticut arrived at the weigh station in a taxi on the final Saturday of the 53rd Derby with a cooler holding bluefish, including one over eighteen pounds. Before the awards ceremony, following a quiet conversation with Derby officials who’d learned he’d only arrived that day, he agreed to withdraw his fish. 

That same year, a local fisherman carried a 55.5-pound striped bass into the weigh station and took over the leader board in the boat division. However, when the weighmaster cut open the fish to examine its stomach – which is a requirement when any fish takes the lead – he found that the fisherman had stuffed frozen squid in its gullet to increase its weight. The irony is that the fish would have taken and maintained the lead without the weight of the added squid. Both men were kicked out of the Derby.

The Derby has also experienced its share of tragedy. In 1993, as the contest drew to a close, devastating news rippled through the community that four Islanders, Sonny Beaulieu and his son Joey, and Fred Loud and his son Adam, had died in a tragic boating accident while fishing in heavy seas south of Nantucket. The Derby’s Beaulieu/Loud Memorial Award is awarded each year to honor family members who fish together and exemplify sportsmanship.

Like a long-running fishing soap opera, the Derby awards ceremony always ends on a dramatic note. The Derby president calls each grand leader in the shore and boat divisions to the stage, where they draw a small envelope containing a key out of a box. The president holds up a padlock and steps up to the first person in line amid raucous cheers from well-wishers. He inserts the key into the lock. The crowd holds its collective breath, waiting to hear an audible “CLICK!” – the signature white smoke of the Derby awards ceremony. If the key doesn’t turn, he moves on to the next person in line until it does. Whew!

In 2024, 3,177 anglers registered in the Derby. They caught 761 bluefish, 405 bonito, and 424 false albacore from shore and boat – 1,590 fish in total – using conventional and fly tackle. For many of them, winning one of the small gold, silver, or bronze fish pins awarded for a first-, second-, or third-place finish in the daily bluefish, bonito, and albacore competition was enough of a prize.

Marjorie “Midge” Jacobs of Vineyard Haven is small in stature – she stands barely five feet – but is a dynamo of fishing energy. She is one of a tight-knit group of women who staff the weigh station, and she loves it. The retired Boston special education schoolteacher fished her first Derby in 1981. She was inspired, she said, when one year earlier on the beach: “I saw this amazing woman surfcasting, and she was my idol, Janet Messineo. And I just went, ‘I have to do that.’”

The legendary Messineo, who died at the end of last year, became Jacobs’s inspiration and mentor. “And I’ve been fishing the Derby ever since,” she said.

Volunteering at the weigh station has given her insight into what makes the Derby special. “I think it’s the people that join it and, you know, participate in it. I love being part of their stories as they come in, and their joys or their disappointments…. Those moments, those few hours in the evening, the Derby becomes alive and real and it has a lot of heart and depth to it.”

She caught a second-place bonito from a boat and won a woman’s weekly prize of a necklace in the 76th Derby. “I haven’t taken it off in three years,” she said.

More precious, she said, are the memories and the daily-award pins. “You can’t buy the pin, so it’s priceless. And I know it’s just a pin with a fish,” she said with a laugh. “But it’s still so important. And it took me forty years to get a pin.”