It’s been brought to my attention that my truck has a bit of a smell. While I’ve long since stopped detecting anything malodorous in the vehicle, I’ll admit that the air in there does seem a bit “heavier” than outside—especially on a warm spring day when a wet rain jacket was left in the car from the previous night’s fishing. And, there was the time I dropped the truck off for its annual inspection at a shop down the block from the office, only to later see it driving up and down the road with all four windows open. A few minutes later, I got a call telling me to come pick up the vehicle because no one could stand being near it long enough to inspect it. Almost 10 years later, my co-workers—who’d gathered at the window to watch the mechanic’s fruitless attempts at airing out the truck—still haven’t let me live it down.
All right, so the truck stinks. The potpourri includes whiffs of rancid bait, fetid notes of mildew from the never-dry floors and, just for variety, a sickly sweet tang that’s been emanating from every nook and cranny since my son tossed a full-to-the brim banana-strawberry smoothie like a hand grenade across the backseat. While passengers are quick to comment on the olfactory experience in my vehicle, I have noticed that the complaints dissipate more quickly when we’re headed fishing.
My truck, like many surfcasters’ trucks, has a lived-in feel. It’s more than transportation to and from fishing. It’s a war room, where surfcasting strategies are formed; it’s a motel, where cat naps are had; and it’s a refuge from late-season cold or mid-summer squalls.
A good “striper sled” comes in many forms, not all of them four-wheel-drive trucks. I know of one angler in Rhode Island who ferries himself and his gear in a brightly colored sports car. His vehicle “hides in plain sight” when parked near highly productive, but lesser-known striper waters. Whereas a pickup truck bristling with rod racks and peppered with “Sleep When You’re Dead” fishing stickers might attract unwanted attention from eagle-eyed, surfcasting passersby, this car garners nary a second look. I doubt this was the sole reasoning behind the purchase, but it sure seems like a fringe benefit for the secretive surfcasting types.
Any vehicle can be made more suitable for surf fishing with a few minor adjustments. My additions include two doubled pieces of bungee cord for holding the rods inside and a surfcasting “survival kit” packed into a bomb-proof gear box made by Yeti. I also have waterproof seat and floor covers that collect impressive amounts of sand throughout the season, and a dutifully renewed AAA roadside-assistance membership that’s gotten me out of several jams. I’ve been happy with my truck, but my minor modifications pale compared to the ingenious, full-scale customizations made by some surfcasters.
While surfcasting is best enjoyed as a minimalist pursuit, there are a number of items you can store in your striper sled to become more productive, safe, and prepared for any eventuality. Here’s the surfcasting survival kit I keep in my truck from April to December.
Casting Tape
There are many variations, from hockey tape to specially made fishing finger guards, but I’ve come to rely on Co-Flex, a non-adhesive bandage that fits comfortably, doesn’t inhibit motion, and protects the casting finger from braided-line cuts.
Weighted Trebles
Sometimes the surf offers up a gift in the form of fresh bait within casting range. Having some snag hooks ready can help nab a few choice baits to send back out on circle hooks.
Zip-Top Bags
These are perfect for storing bait, fillets, or anything I might have foraged on a surfcasting trip, including but not limited to, softshell crabs, beach plums, sea beans, and wild grapes.
Fillet Knife
For cleaning fish or cutting bait.
Leader Wheels, Swivels, and Clips
While I keep a few pre-tied leaders in my plug bag, I have enough material to make dozens of leaders in the truck, so I’m never at risk of running out.
Manley Pliers and/or Wire Cutters
Ideally, I only need these for changing hooks on plugs, but they are nice to have when I need to remove a hook from me or someone else.
Split-Ring Pliers and Replacement Hooks in Several Sizes
For quick hook changes.
First-Aid Kit
Self-explanatory.
Spare AA and AAA Batteries
For keeping my headlamp or neck light nice and bright.
Backup Light
Just in case.
Super Glue
For repairing or rigging soft plastics.
Rod Glue and Replacement Rod Tip
For on-the-go rod repair.
Zip Ties and Electric Tape
For any MacGyvering you might have to do, including boot repair, bait rigging, or temporary wader patching.
Spare Boot Laces
We’ve all been there when a lace snaps as you’re gearing up at the start of a trip. Having several spares can save the day.
Hook Sharpener
Touching up the hook points before hitting the water is a good practice to adopt when targeting big, hard-mouth fish like the mighty striped bass.
I used to think my dream beach buggy was an old Ford Bronco until I met Craig Cantelmo of Van Staal Reels. He showed me that for storage space, sleeping quarters, and all-around utility, it’s tough to beat a 4×4 van.
His E350 Ford Econoline functions as his surfcasting home away from home for as many as 30 nights a season. With that kind of road time, Craig needed a full-on bed in the van, so he added one made of 6061 aluminum that’s lifted a foot above the floor to provide ample storage below for plugs and gear. The bed is split and modular, so he can remove half to add his fat-tire bike for reaching remote beaches.
Craig keeps his surf rods on racks inside the vehicle and said that sleeping on his aluminum bed with the aircraft-grade aluminum Van Staal reels above his head gives the inside of the van a kind of fishing feng shui. There’s also a porta-potty.
While an actual bed in the back of a van sounds like the Ritz-Carlton compared to sleeping upright in the cab of my truck with my neck kinked at an unnatural angle, Craig emphasizes the importance of not making striper sled sleeping arrangements too comfortable.
“You still want a reason to get out and fish,” Craig says, cautioning against the gravitational pull of a soft, warm bed inside a vehicle while the outside is getting buffeted by the kind of storm that promises to put big fish on the beach.
“You need just a bit of discomfort so you can wake up and remember, ‘I’m here for reason, not to sleep, so let’s go catch that tide.’”
As long as my truck smells the way it does, I’ll never have to worry about getting too comfortable in there. I do add the occasional “Little Tree” air freshener, but as my friend Tommy Reilly put it after we spent a few days chasing fall-run bass in New Jersey, “Even a whole forest of Little Trees couldn’t cut that smell.”
Surfcasting Essentials to Keep in Your Truck
