NUMENON |
PONDERING CORE ESSENCE
NUMENON |
Birds and bait were abundant, and the New Moon current was ripping. I was presented with different conditions on my two mornings, and good things could have happened. Still, false albacore action was limited and I had only a few casts over two days anywhere close to working tunoids. Another year shall likely pass without me connecting with one of Fall's funny fish. Oh well, I learned a bit and there's always 2023. Of course I knew that tangible success during this annual Albie run was something of a shot in the dark. I was dependent on fish presenting themselves to me at a given, fixed location and on my schedule. Plus, they'd have to be inclined to eat, and I'd have to execute. This just didn't pull itself entirely together, once again, for me in 2022. Still, I'll call this a good effort and I did learn a bit. I arrived, armed with three rigs in hand; the universal epoxy jig, an Albie Snax soft bait, and a Pop-and-Fly for finicky fish. This had been confirmed for me as the go-to trio by an article earlier in the week. On Saturday, all three baits swam for me quite a bit. Thick "rain" bait was obvious; snagged silversides were common, and I'd see rivers of peanut bunker later in the day. Fiona-related winds diminished over the course of the morning from well over 20 mph from the north, to a mere 15+ mph. From daylight to slack high tide, there were constant tornados of birds over bait, but always well out of reach. A single small pod of fish (7:20 AM and about half an hour before high tide) gave me hope when it chased bait on the surface within casting range for perhaps 15 seconds. I got a couple of casts in, but my smallish, natural-colored epoxy jig was ignored. I was joined on the stubby pier by a vacationer from Colorado. He reported good albie and bass action from this location before the blow. For the most part, he only would cast to visible fish, but given their prolonged absence, he made a few blind casts before searching for greener pastures on Martha's Vineyard. He also preferred the afternoon dropping tide at this location. After 300 or more minutes of casting while standing on the concrete, my body told me to pace myself. I'd not seen a shot for about four hours; I saved my luck and energy for the following day. I was a bit peeved to find a pair of anglers already in position when I returned in the dark at 5:40 the next morning. I was blocked from my preferred position at the pier's end. But conditions remained fishy (overcast and now with a more manageable westerly breeze) and there was plenty of room. Plus, the water was moving hard and there was still lot of bait around. Things got very fishy at about 6:45 AM. Bass blitzed bait trapped against the rocks and nearby seawalls for about 20 minutes. Amazingly, I never got touched. I knew these fish were on peanuts, but they were selective! They ignored my Albie Snax, Hogy Slow-tails, Crippled Herring, and even the Popper-and-Fly. I did note, however, the guy at the end scoring a few bass on a small white swim-bait retrieved at Albie Speed through the mayhem. I'd later learn that this was a 3-inch Al Gags', and he was hoping to find an Albie mixed in with the feeding bass. Lesson learned! Once these feeds thinned out, this same tactic produced three Albies for that same gentleman. I'd switched to my closest approximation, a 4-inch thin Hogy on a jig-head. This never got touched, the albacore seemed to need that thumping Al Gags tail. Another lesson learned! A few local fishing celebrities showed up, and one caught a decent bass on a float-and-fly. Another interesting rig I noticed was a large hookless epoxy jig with a RonZ sand eel trailer. Folks were getting more creative at imitating the small bait in place. I got knocked out of the action for a couple of hours with sudden onset stomach illness, but when I returned later in the morning, the crowd had thinned and the rest were giving up. The fish were still feeding, but very sporadically and usually out of reach. Only a single small bluefish had been landed by my new friend from Colorado. He'd been totally skunked on the Vineyard the previous day; it had just been a tough day for fishing. I casted for another fruitless hour before heading home. I couldn't help but feel dejected, and I was angry about not being able to make my best sustained effort. But I'm already thinking about 2023. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways
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It didn't turn out to be much of an albie chase, but my recent week on Cape Cod was a worthwhile fishing trip! After a brief encounter with some visible funny fish, including a few casts with an epoxy jig in their general vicinity on the first evening, I'm not sure I had another shot all week. The wind and the good striper fishing kept me inside the ponds, and when I did make it out to Vineyard Sound, I just never found the tunoids. Oh well, I'll run into them someday. Our temporary neighbors did, right outside Waquoit Bay outlet, on the evening of Saturday, September 26. I'd covered miles of ocean that day without knowingly crossing paths with a funny fish. Despite that, I still managed to learn some new spots and entertained myself with a variety of fish. All of the fishing details for the trip are chronicled at www.numenonfunfishing.com/numenonfunfishing/archives/09-2020 . While it was awesome to enjoy such quality, light tackle fishing for the week, it is still the prospect of catching an albie that will likely bring me back next fall. Enjoy some pictures of my Cape Cod "Albie Chase" for 2020; I enjoyed taking them! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways For well over a year, I had planned to take an autumn vacation in New England. Now free from the constraints of the public school calendar and having cleared my work schedule, I could claim a week or ten days in late September without negative effects. Of course, I planned on fishing; but the additional bonuses of seeing and sharing time with loved ones, experiencing favored spots with less competition and finding new spots all appealed. Then again, there was the chance to chase some of fall's "funny fish"; and maybe I'd win the beautiful boat at On the Water's Striperfest 2018! Whatever "plans" I had developed were still pretty ill-formed by the time A and I hit the road on the first day of autumn. Even A's participation was something of a late addition to the trip. There were specific, stated milestones (a couple of days at the Maine homestead, a ballgame in Boston on Tuesday, utilize Uncle M's generosity as host on The Cape for a few days of chasing albacore and be present when my Golden Ticket was pulled for the boat), but the details around these were still a bit fuzzy. Plus, in my mind, these same goals sounded more like "get to Portland on time to get bait and catch Saturday evening's tide, explore Plum Island and find some fish in the surf, recover and rest in Boston with K and A, incur and cure a case of Albie Fever and be present when my Golden Ticket is pulled for the boat!" As for the other logistics, I'd adopted Eisenhower's philosophy along the lines of "Planning is indispensable; but Plans are worthless." That is, I'd thought this all through and I had the gear and means to execute my plan; but I was more than willing to scrap the specifics and adjust along the way, as necessary. There is little in my life that I find more relaxing than my time in Falmouth, Maine. But when there, I am always burning the candle from both ends; I try to catch every dawn and dusk (and that means, in practice, every pre-dawn and post-dusk) since that's when the crepuscular striped bass are vulnerable. In June or July, that can be awfully wearing. I found it to be much more manageable during the shortened days of September. I even had a little time and energy to be mildly sociable, post-fishing, in the evenings! My biggest source of "stress" is often obtaining sufficient bait; but The Tackle Shop's 2018 relocation has reduced that, and they always have taken care of my local bait and tackle needs. And so our first stop upon arriving in Portland was The Tackle Shop. There, Dana reported that there were plenty of bass still available; but obtaining live mackerel might be difficult. I left the shop with some frozen mackerel and a couple of dozen sand-worms, as well as a Smack-it popper and reinforced confidence. Within a couple of hours, I proved to myself that the bass were still available; the fishing details are here at www.numenonfunfishing.com/numenonfunfishing/maine-2018-part-ii. I was fortunate to have arrived during a favorable tide schedule, and the fishing during our stay was decently good. Over the course of the couple of days, I landed 20 stripers. And while the stripers here are rarely large specimens, during 18-plus years of experience on the float, I have refined my tackle to the point that each and every bass I encounter can give a good account for itself, while still providing me the edge in landing them. Like good home cooking, I find this fishing to be familiar, satisfying and satiating. Yet somehow, I never seem to get enough! Now with 36 hours or so to enjoy before the scheduled First Pitch at Fenway, and having caught some fish in the familiar comfort of our New England "home", it was time to explore! A and I casually worked our way down to Newburyport, Massachusetts. The east wind was building and a Nor'easter was in the forecast. The next day's ballgame was certainly in doubt, but so was this day's fishing! Driving down the coast, I assumed it would simply be too rough to fish the east-facing surf of Plum Island. But "Metal Mike" at Surfland Bait and Tackle set me straight. I turned out to be productively happy in the surf (see www.numenonfunfishing.com/numenonfunfishing/massachusetts-north-shore-surf-fishing), while both A and I were super happy with our overnight cottage accommodations at The Blue hotel. While the next day was a fishless, rained-out mess, this was an awesome mini-vacation within our vacation. Who's one to argue with striped bass success, the company of your best friend, watching the Full Moon rise into clear skies over the Atlantic from a hot tub, and breakfast delivered to your doorstep? The Red Sox - Orioles game for September 25 was rained out. That was okay; it gave us more time to spend with our Boston Daughter, K. We enjoyed her company and hospitality and shared some local delicacies. I was momentarily conflicted; the game was rescheduled for the next afternoon. I could stay the extra half-day; but that would be at the cost of my timely arrival in Falmouth, Massachusetts. That lost time would threaten a full day of lost fishing; and my Cape Cod Albie Chase was one of the primary motivations for the trip itself. It turned out to be an easy group decision; I'd skip the game and proceed to The Cape while the girls would attend the game. A and I would somehow re-unite in time for Saturday's Striperfest 2018 festivities. I'll skip right to it; I did not catch a false albacore during my time on The Cape, despite being steered straight by Todd and Christian at Falmouth Bait and Tackle. The specifics are here: (www.numenonfunfishing.com/numenonfunfishing/cape-cod-albie-chase). Much of my available fishing time was very windy and/or rainy, and the locations and tactics were all new to me. Tides were crazily mixed with the full moon and crazy wind. The quarry is highly migratory and their presence is ephemeral. Odds were stacked against my fishing success. In the end, despite not landing my small tuna, I'm not sure I could have had more fun. Let's face it, in my "failure" to land a tunnie, I was outside for long periods of time in bracing conditions. I was fully engaged with the tasks immediately at hand. I witnessed seals, gulls, tuna, bass and blues foraging and at their wildest. I shared time with my interesting uncle; some of my passion might have even rubbed off on him. I befriended strangers on similar quests. I learned a lot. I accumulated a lot of information for current and future utilization. I enjoyed my gear. I didn't have a single, meaningful tackle failure. I had everything I really needed, including waders and top-quality rain gear. I caught drag-pulling fish on top-waters! I had some near misses and I even had my chance; my tuna was defeated and at my feet! I simply didn't hold it. This was no failure! Any one of these three areas offers a lifetime of fishing possibility. I'd tried to cram it all into a week; and I'd done pretty well doing so. The week had been filled with modest fishing success and a bunch of new experiences. These were all modest (striper on a Diawa SP Minnow; striper from heavy surf; bass and blues on Hogy epoxy jigs; repeated albacore refusals), but in the long run, they are all meaningful. I'd been legitimately in the game for the entire week; and all these learning moments, if remembered, would help me stay in the game on future trips. All of this had been executed without any real problems! Any of the things that could have gone wrong (car failure, gear failure, slips, trips and falls, minor viruses) simply did not; and for that I am grateful. Meanwhile, there were many tangible things that went right! My gear selection (and my ability to supplement this gear smartly, courtesy of local expertise) was spot on. I found the right shops to dispense pertinent advice. I had fish in front of me during every session. Heck, the food was good throughout the trip, and I even enjoyed all the driving. I was very pleased with the performance of this LL Bean Travel Series rod paired with my Shimano Stradic 4000 reel. Filled with 15-pound Spiderwire Stealth Braid, I could launch my Hogy epoxy jigs (here, shown supplemented with a few Crippled Herring, Deadly Dicks and surface tension lures) as far as anybody on the pier. Reaching the fish was NOT my problem! Finally; I did not win the boat at Striperfest! I am still, somehow, mildly surprised at this outcome (at least in my heart, if not fully in my brain.) I did win a beautiful pair of Costa sunglasses, and I left with a couple of new lures in my bag. It was a fun, unique experience, and I suspect that I shall return. And, I am somehow filled with hope that the family who did win the boat will enjoy it and use it wisely. The winning family had a young, teenaged boy; and I remember how my life was changed for the better when my father came home with a shiny new boat. If it works out half as well for that young boy as it has for me (40 years or more, later!), then he's going to be all right! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways |
Steve LachanceVia Rhode Island, New Hampshire, Michigan and now, back to New England! Archives
June 2024
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