Spring is an iffy season on the Vineyard. The ocean’s chill delays the reawakening of color and blossom for a seeming eternity while blustery winds keep summer at bay. But something is going on beneath the sea that keeps pulses racing: the spring run of striped bass, which brings these magnificent fish back to our shores from wintering grounds in the Chesapeake and elsewhere. What could be a greater affirmation that we have survived another winter and that all is right in the world of nature?

Kib Bramhall

For me, fishing is generally not a social activity. It is intensely personal, private, and intuitive. Except for family, I tend to be an angling loner. The concept of a fishing friend was an oxymoron until I met Luciano and was introduced to KLP.

Kib Bramhall

This year will be a busy one for the cadre of Islanders who keep a close eye on what’s going on at Norton Point. From fishermen to scientists, the two-and-a-half-mile barrier beach that sometimes connects Edgartown’s South Beach and Wasque on Chappaquiddick is a source of fascination. In April 2007 a northeaster broke through the beach, creating an inlet that connected Katama Bay and the Atlantic Ocean. In the years that followed, the “opening,” as it is known in local parlance, migrated eastward.

Sara Brown

The most important game fish in local waters is in deep trouble. The writer, a renowned fisherman and longtime conservation columnist for Salt Water Sportsman, thinks he knows why.

Rip Cunningham

There’s a tendency to think that Island fishing ends after the derby’s final hurrah in mid-October. But wait a minute! They may be premature.

Kib Bramhall

Dana Gaines's boat isn't a traditional one with a motor or even a sail. And yet he's taken it around the Island – twice.

Ivy Ashe

While the leaves changed color, along the waterfront crews planned and fitted out for the annual voyages of vessels determined to follow summer.

Matthew Stackpole

One of the most famous of all striped bass plugs, the Reverse Atom was born on the beach at North Truro on Cape Cod on a hot August afternoon in 1949.

Kib Bramhall