Midge Jacobs tossed a handful of Goldfish crackers into the water off the shores of Wasque on Sunday morning, a gesture that has become a tradition for her and the group of women she fishes with each year during the Martha’s Vineyard Striped Bass and Bluefish Derby.

“To the fishing gods!” she called out, nodding to her friend Trish Lyman.

“Apparently, we were throwing Goldfish in the water when I caught my prize winner,” Ms. Lyman said.

Ursula Kreskey, Midge Jacobs, Trish Lyman and Molly Reed enjoy a day on the water.

Gwyn Skiles

Ursula Kreskey, Midge Jacobs, Trish Lyman and Molly Reed enjoy a day on the water.

Gwyn Skiles

That was in 2017, when Ms. Lyman’s 12.23-pound albacore won her a brand new Subaru Crosstrek. This was back when boat anglers were eligible for a separate grand prize from shore participants. That moment is one of many memories the women have shared over the years.

Sport fishing has long been a male-dominated activity, but on the Vineyard the participation of skilled female anglers has continued to grow and form tight bonds over the decades.

On Sunday morning, Ms. Jacobs and Ms. Lyman met up with Molly Reed and Ursula Kreskey at the finger piers near the Edgartown harbor, where they boarded Charlie Ashmun’s boat, the CayLee of Great Harbour Sport Fishing Charters. The women discussed the snacks they had brought and who had purchased the new lilac derby hats. 

Whether or not banana bread was allowed on board was also debated. Bananas are the subject of a common fishing superstition that originated in the 17th century and are thought to bring venomous spiders and other bugs on-board while secreting ethylene gas as they ripened.

The women decided Mr. Ashmun would be the deciding factor.

“It’s cooked, it’s fine,” Mr. Ashmun said. 

Once out at sea, lines trolling in the water, Ms. Kreskey, 85, talked about her long history with fishing, which began when she immigrated to the United States.

Ms. Kreskey was born in 1940 and lived in German-occupied Czechoslovakia during World War II. She and her family had to flee the country on foot to Germany, which at the time was a safer option. Eventually, six years later, they managed to settle in New Jersey.

“I was so lucky to get to America,” Ms. Kreskey said. “It was good to us, you know. I got my citizenship when I was 18. Went to high school, to college [and] to graduate school.”

She studied psychiatric social work and went on to have a career in special education. In 1970, when she was 30 years old and working at a preschool, she met her husband, Joe Kreskey, who was the superintendent. 

“He had a boat and our first date was going out fishing...” she said. “I said ‘I don’t think I could ever learn this.’ He let me pull in some fish to make sure I would fall in love with fishing.”

Midge Jacobs and the rest of the Lerby Dabies have been fishing together for years.

Gwyn Skiles

Midge Jacobs and the rest of the Lerby Dabies have been fishing together for years.

Gwyn Skiles

Ms. Kreskey said she fell in love with her husband and got hooked on the sport that same day.

“He was so busy looking at me and relating to me that he forgot he had the outriggers out,” she recalled. “We went under the bridge and [it] snapped every fishing rod. He said, ‘You caused me to snap my beautiful fishing rods. That’s it with this date!’ Then he left, and he [later] said, ‘I think we’re gonna be together.’”

They married in 1973 and fished all around the country until he died soon after they moved to the Vineyard fulltime in 2003.

On those trips, Ms. Kreskey said she rarely saw other women anglers. The first time she did was on a trip to Chappaquiddick, when she spotted Fran Clay, who co-owned a family auto dealership that donated trucks to the derby — the same company that gave Ms. Lyman her grand prize Subaru. 

Later, Ms. Kreskey met Karen Kukolich and Janet Messineo, two legendary Vineyard anglers.

“Slowly I got to see that there were quite a few women anglers on the Vineyard, compared to New Jersey, where I never saw them,” she said. 

By the ‘80s, Ms. Kreskey said she noticed an uptick in the amount of women fishing, many of whom are now committee members and volunteers at derby headquarters.

The women on-board Sunday are also avid derby volunteers who call themselves the Lerby Dadies, a spoonerism derived from a friend’s slip of the tongue.

“It just stuck,” Ms. Lyman said.

Molly Reed reels in another one.

Gwyn Skiles

Molly Reed reels in another one.

Gwyn Skiles

On Sunday, luck appeared to be visiting elsewhere as the women only caught some black sea bass or bluefish too small to weigh-in. But their optimism never wavered. 

“Barbie always catches them,” Ms. Reed said while casting a bright pink diving lure. 

In between casts they conversed over charcuterie and dried fruit stored in their ‘snacklebox’ — a tacklebox with each compartment filled with snacks.

Ms. Jacobs shared that she has been participating in the derby since 1981, and this year is enjoying seeing her four-year-old granddaughter fish the tournament for the first time. 

“I can say that now, after 41 years, the people’s children, and now their children’s children are all fishing and coming to the derby,” Ms. Jacobs said. “It brings families together.” 

The women agreed that the Island’s fishing community is nurturing and has been welcoming to them. 

“It’s just becoming more normal that women are out fishing on their own,” Ms. Reed said. “They don’t need men to teach them.”

Ms. Kreskey said fishing, whether in a group or alone, offers a special fulfillment that has enriched her life.

“You’re standing there by the water when you’re casting, looking at the blue sky...the people up and down the beach, the waves coming in, and you’re wondering if you’re going to get a fish,” Ms. Kreskey said. “It actually doesn’t matter. It’s so peaceful and so beautiful. It’s all positive.”