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Date: May 27, 2023 Body of Water: Casco Bay - Falmouth and Cumberland, Maine Moon Phase: First Quarter Moon (waxing) Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 6:30 AM - 1 PM Tide: High at 5:17 AM, Low at 11:41 AM Conditions: Clear and bright with light NW winds <10 mph; 45 - 70 degrees. Water temperatures generally 52 - 54 degrees (+/-), but a degree or so warmer in Broad Cove (55 degrees +/-). Summer arrived with Memorial Day Weekend; the perfect weather didn't seem conducive to fast striper action. Plus, the tides were "off" for my local Falmouth base of operations, and so I slept in a little bit and skipped the shore fishing before running the skiff to the mouth of the Presumpscot River with the beginning of the ebb. I ran under the Route 1 bridge and into the bay. I picked up the edge of the adjacent flats and started a slow, downstream drift, fan-casting a small swim-bait and scanning all directions for any indication of fish. Some gulls were making a commotion upstream; this turned out to be a group of seals riding the current from the river and into Casco Bay. Obviously, they'd expected to find some fish! As did the few boats that joined me (with most pressing further upstream); but most left before I did, looking for something better. Next, a tube-and-worm slow-trolled with the current went untouched for a couple of passes (although I did mark some bait and bottom-hugging fish). I left the river and went to nearby Pomroy Rock. A couple of hours into the ebb, this area had lots of current and seams to hide bass, and it looked really good; but a thorough search with swim-baits found nothing. I repeated that result (mixing in the tube-and-worm, too) at Halfway Rock, The Brothers and Prince Point and Ledge. It just wasn't happening! Approaching 10 AM, the tide was right, even if the conditions were brutal for fishing suspended worms off the Falmouth shoreline. Recalling DV's daytime beast from last year, I decided to give it a shot, if only to kill some time before running to Broad Cove at the change of tide. Spot-locked off a dock a bit west of "home", my first drift with a suspended worm resulted in a solid pull-down and connection. Somehow, the 3/0 circle hook pulled mid-way through the fight, and I remained fishless for the day. Another 45 minutes of effort yielded nothing, and so with slack low at hand, I ran to Broad Cove. I ran as far up the gut as I dared before setting out my tube-and-worm. A long pass along the gut's edge produced nothing! I pulled my line and pondered my next move; another pass, or home for a shower and nap? Fortunately, I noticed some terns off in the distance, up on the three-foot flat beyond the gut's end. They seemed to diving, and were certainly worth checking out. As I slowly approached, I could tell they were, indeed, diving, and there were intermittent surface splashes from fish, too. It wasn't exactly a blitz, but there was at least a congregation of active fish within casting range! They turned out to be selective! I couldn't see what they were eating, but they universally ignored Albie Snax, a dog-walker, and a small 3-inch swim-bait. This reminded me of my experience on Duxbury Harbor, and so I tried a frantic "Bayman Bounce" retrieve with the small NLBN swimmer; and it worked! After six hours of effort, I'd finally connected with and landed a striper for the day. This 23-incher was worth the effort, and there was some gratification in re-purposing experiences to find a new, local solution. When I looked up from releasing this fish, the birds and bass were gone. A few more casts went untouched, and so I reverted to simply watching. Soon enough, the activity reconstituted itself a quarter mile away over about four feet of water. Here, I made quick work on three more bass (23, 25 and 30 inches) before they dispersed again. This had been pretty good fishing in clear, shallow water on a bright day, and I'll look for this pattern to repeat itself again! What do I have to say about this? Stripers are easy to work for, because if something's not producing, you simply have to change. Whether it's location or presentation, the fish have to tell you when you've done something correct. More importantly, you have to listen when you're not. A lot of effort went into this day's modest catch, but I think the experience will ultimately outweigh that simple metric. I crossed paths with a reputable, local fly guide several times over the course of the day, and so my strategies seem valid. He was working every bit as hard as I was, and we ended on the same group of fish! We'd both independently found the same solution for the day's puzzle. I'll be back on this pattern (soon?) to try my hand on these fish with the long wand. I'm a little baffled at the difficulty of the current fishing, but things will certainly settle down into more familiar patterns. In the meantime, I'll keep working and learning. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways
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Date: May 21, 2023 Body of Water: Casco Bay - Yarmouth, Cumberland and Falmouth, Maine Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 9 AM - 3 PM Moon: New plus two days Tide: Low at about 7 AM, High at about 1:30 PM Conditions: Clear and bright after torrential overnight rains; mixed winds and about 60 - 70 degrees. Water temperatures varied according to tide and suspended silt content and ranged from unchanged from 50 to about 58 degrees (+/-). Water temp at ML float was 53 at mid-afternoon. After an overnight front with torrential rain and a subsequent late start to the morning, I chose to stay local and launched from the Yarmouth boat ramp at the mouth of the Royal River. The facility worked out well for me, but the Royal was pumping out pure mud, and I'd made it out into a new part of Casco Bay before I found anything like clear water. Some terns were active outside the confluence of the Royal and Cousins Rivers. Most of their activity was simply squawking, but a few dived and dipped. I prospected with a dog-walker, but rose nothing. I moved into the channel between Cousins and Littlejohn Islands. A tube-and-worm produced nothing, although I marked some "bait" and the occasional arch. I continued my explorations along Great Chebeague Island and focused on Division Point. It's underwater bar is strewn with boulders and reached most of the way across the channel to Cousins Island. Once again, it seemed "fishy" but produced nothing. All this had been new-to-me water. I decided to run to the familiar confines of Broad Cove, where I found more of the same - nothing. Next up; Sturdivant Island. I thought my productive beach and point at the southwest portion of the island might produce, but neither the tube-and-worm, a small swim-bait, nor a fly-casted Clouser caught any attention. A change in family plans at this point directed me towards Falmouth instead of back to Yarmouth. I explored Mussel Cove and the adjacent familiar shoreline with both a tube-and-worm and swim-bait presentations. I'll blame the mud, here; once again, I found nothing. Instead of returning to Yarmouth to pull the boat, I went to the familial landing and launched our Portland Pudgy and moored the skiff. The local striper season has now truly begun! What do I have to say about this? It's difficult to reconcile the obvious presence of fish at the landing with my difficulties in locating any biters elsewhere. However, I seem to recall going through this last year, too, and this is only my second season here this early in the year. There's a lot of learning to do! And a quick review of my notes from last season do confirm that the better fishing kicked in towards the end of May, so it really is still early. It was nice to see some new water, and Chebeague is definitely within my radius from the landing. I need to explore it's points and beaches, and especially the rocky "Chebeague Point" at it's northeast end. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: May 20, 2023 Body of Water: Casco Bay - Falmouth Foreside, Maine Boat: None - shore fishing from ML float With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 4:45 AM - 8 AM Moon: New plus one day Tide: Low at 6:22 AM; Quadrants II and III Conditions: Pleasant; minimal south breeze and about 50 - 60 degrees. Clear, but hazy from Canadian fire smoke; heavy rain expected later in day. I returned to the float for a simple and convenient session. I was pretty beaten up by the previous day's wind, and didn't want to rush any boating activity into the present, apparent calm; heavy and wet weather was forecast. A good chunk of Quadrant II (last half of ebb tide) was available to me, and it did not disappoint. I'd landed three stripers on my suspended bloodworms in the first 20 minutes or so before sunrise, and these included healthy 26- and 28-inch beauties. The bite continued, and in the first hour, I was five-for-seven. The lull around slack low was pronounced; in fact, I didn't have another bite between about 6 and 7:45 AM. The pleasant conditions and the prospect of an improved bite in Quadrant III (first half of flood tide) kept me on post. The harbor was peacefully calm, and I was enjoying the birds, including a variety of waterfowl, raptors, shorebirds and corvids. They all seemed to be enjoying Spring, too. The bite did pick up slightly at about 7:45 (low plus almost 1.5 hours; expected prime time for Quadrant III); after a mystery pull-down, I finished out my catching with another 20-inch schoolie and a missed fish. But after a couple of drifts around 8 AM without another touch, I called it a (good!) morning. What do I have to say about this? Simple and satisfying; and just what I needed from the morning. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: May 19, 2023 Body of Water: Scarborough Marsh - Scarborough, Maine Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Moon: New Moon Tide: High at Noon (+/-) Time: 10:45 AM - 1:30 PM Conditions: Clear and bright; persistent southerly wind in the teens and gusting over 25 mph; and about 60 degrees. Water temperatures 48 -50 degrees (+/-). I launched on Casco Bay's largest estuary system for the first time. The first wave of stripers should seek out the rivers, and five feed into Scarborough Marsh. I also intended to find some opportunities to try to catch some on the fly, and I expected to find some current seems to swing an olive-over-white Clouser through. I had my trusty tube-and-worm setup as well as a variety of swim-baits and top-waters. The water might be new to me, but I expected to find plenty of opportunities. They just did not develop. As I launched from the Pine Point/Jones Creek ramp, I could see a "tern-nadoe" of birds diving on bait over a submerged sandbar just a couple of hundred yards away. A group of cormorants were there, too. It looked promising! As I approached, I didn't see any active fish, and I let the stiff wind push me through the area as I fan-casted a small swim-bait. This reminded me of my September 2021 trip to Plymouth Harbor, and I alternated "low and slow" with a frantic "Bayman Bounce" retrieve. But nothing responded; I never identified the bait and the birds dispersed. I worked my way up the Nonesuch River, which I cross twice a week on my commute to Boston. It always looks fishy from the train, but it seemed barren from today's perspective. I continued to scout with the swim-bait to no avail. I hooked a sand-worm onto my red tube and proceeded upstream with the wind and tide, almost all the way to the railroad trestle. I continued to be surprised by the lack of action. I enjoyed a turkey sandwich at slack high; but my trolling motor battery gave out. I knew boat control was going to be an issue in the wind, and so I started my way slowly back downstream, alternating trolling the tube with casting likely areas with a swim-bait. Nothing happened! There just weren't too many bass in the estuary, this day. I did get tricked into fishing under two more groups of active terns; these were just dipping and occasionally skimming the surface. The tide was now firmly outbound; were they on grass shrimp? I couldn't see anything, and there were no signs of any active fish. What do I have to say about this? Oh well, any trip to new water without any problems is always a good session. It was certainly interesting! Perhaps the water is just a little too cold for the invasion I imagined; and perhaps I should have targeted more effort on the ebb, as clearly the incoming ocean waters suppressed temperatures. But it was a trip I could do safely in the wind, and I did have a cool encounter with a bald eagle as it swooped overhead on it's way to harass some Canada geese and their fresh goslings. There was lots of other bird life to appreciate, too. With the slow fishing (and seriously beaten up by the wind), I headed home early, where I enjoyed a short but intensely deep nap. There's always tomorrow to look forward to and prepare for! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: May 19, 2023 Body of Water: Casco Bay - Falmouth Foreside, Maine Boat: none - shore fishing from ML float With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Moon: New Moon Tide: Low at 5:36 AM Time: 4:45 AM - 7:30 AM Conditions: Raw; WNW wind over 10 mph and about 42 - 50 degrees; as cold as I've been on the float. Quadrants II and III. I had targeted the day to be "Off" from work, and I started my long weekend by targeting local stripers with suspended worms. The tide was favorable, I had bait, I knew fish were around, and I didn't want to have any issues with unfamiliar boat ramps in negative tide conditions. I was greeted by songbirds in full chorus (and a gobbling turkey) as I got out out of the truck; it was already a good day. My first worm hit the water at about 4:45, but I had to wait until sunrise (just after 5) to get my first bite. On the board with a 23-incher (alas, camera issues!), I enjoyed the fastest action of the day between sunrise and slack low tide. I only landed one more fish (22 inches), but dropped a couple and also had some mystery pull-downs; there was some sort of large, unseen bait (herring? squid?) around. The expected Quadrant III bite never really materialized. I scored my third fish (20 or 21 inches) at about 6 AM, and waited until about 6:30 for the best bite of the day, a fit 27-incher. That fish kept me on point for the next hour, but was the last action of the morning for me. At 7:30 (low plus two hours), I felt like I had lost my tide. I was also super cold! I headed home to warm up and to plan the rest of the day. What do I have to say about this? If Tuesday's session exceeded expectations, this one fell short. But that's my problem, because I expected too much! One can hardly argue against such a morning. Perhaps the unusual cold slowed things down, or the new moon's tidal swings allowed the bass to explore elsewhere. With four nice fish before most had begun their day, my weekend was just starting! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: May 16, 2023 Body of Water: Casco Bay - Falmouth Foreside, Maine Boat: none - shore fishing from ML float With: A Target: Striped Bass Time: 4 PM - 6:25 PM Moon Phase: New minus three days Tide: Low at 3:22 PM; Quadrant III Conditions: Generally overcast; southerly wind over 10 mph, but diminishing, and about 65 degrees. Looking for that First Maine Striper of the Season, I took advantage of the muted sunlight, attractive chop, an early start to the work day, and tide. With blood-worms secured, we hit the Landing's float at about 4 PM. Despite a seven-month hiatus, I was reasonably confident that we might find some action; conditions were ripe. The biggest unknown was whether any early arrivals had started spreading out along Casco Bay's shoreline. With the uncharacteristically heavy wind and chop, I used and tended to just a single rod. It took a few drifts for me to get the float balanced properly and to present the suspended worm with confidence. Nothing happened in the first 15 minutes or so, and so I took advantage of the lull to gulp down my sandwich. Still, I kept keen watch over my float, and just as I took my last bite of dinner, I swear I saw my float slip momentarily beneath the waves. I repositioned my float and watched with maximum intent. I sensed, rather than saw, the float's minor re-positioning. I wound tight, the rod loaded, and the fish ran! I knew immediately this wasn't the little schoolie bass that I had anticipated. After a spirited fight with considerable give-and-take, I eased my first Maine Striper of 2023 out of the water for a quick picture. As a bonus, this 34-incher was the earliest I've ever caught in Maine. This fish hit the deck at about 4:25 PM, approximately one hour after predicted low tide. The next 40 minutes or so produced the best action of the day, and before we knew it, A and I had landed another half dozen bass including a fat 29-incher. The others were fit schoolies between 18 and 21 inches. Once again, the middle of Quadrant III (first half of the flood tide) had produced! The action tapered off and I knew I was losing the tide, but conditions were super pleasant and so we stayed through the rest of Quadrant III. I inexplicably dropped a very nice fish mid-way through the fight, but scored another beautiful, 32-inch striper along the way; so staying paid off. Meanwhile, I'd been joined by a neighbor and his nephew. The youngster had a brief encounter with a jig-n-pig on a slow, shaky retrieve, but their freezer-burnt mackerel chunks and swim-baits were ignored. This was about as basic as my striper fishing (or any of my fishing, for that matter) gets; a juicy worm suspended under a slip-float. I've optimized my tackle for this, and I was present at this specific time for known reasons. Hopefully my experience and refined approach to this has yielded improved results. Hopefully I will continue to learn, refine, and improve! All in all, this session had given me everything I could have asked for; a fish, my earliest-ever Maine Striper, a big fish, multiple nice fish, lots of action, good execution of my available chances, and all with absolutely no related problems! I left the float satisfied and possibly even ready to face the next day's demands. What do I have to say about this? Early and big; that's how I like my first stripers of the year! While I was super pleased just to be back at it locally, I was also glad to see a handful of 18- to 21-inch fish in the mix, too. With the most abundant year-class of fish aging out and subject to harvest, we can only expect so many more years of good fishing from them. It was a welcomed relief to have some action from fish representing the future. All the fish came in a singles, too (I didn't see any followers chasing hooked fish), so I am sure there are many more on their way. With a 2023 Striper Cup limit already in my pocket, I can use this weekend to explore some new waters and try to upgrade. I'll bring the fly rod and a pile of other tackle. But I will be hard-pressed to have another session that provides as much relaxation and satisfaction is this one. My local season is off to a great start! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: May 6, 2023 Body of Water: (Upper) Narragansett Bay - Rhode Island and Massachusetts Moon Phase: Full plus one day Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 8 AM - 2 PM Conditions: Local High tide at about 10 AM (empirical); Clear and bright with light, alternating winds but mostly from the north; 50 - 70 degrees. Water temperatures 52 - 54 degrees (+/-). Striper Cup 2023 commenced, and I needed documentation of three stripers for the week! That would be an extremely difficult proposition for me from Maine waters at this point, so I did a day-trip to Rhode Island. I chose to launch from Haines State Park on the east side of the Providence River, and I emerged from the channel into Narragansett Bay at about 8 AM. I was hoping to encounter some bigger bass chasing large baits; not knowing where to start, I picked up the shipping channel and cruised south, looking for any sign of birds, bait or bass. I made it all the way to Bristol's Popasquash Point and Hog Island without a hint of such. I searched the boulder-strewn shoreline of Hog with a swim-bait for a bit without luck before pulling off into the deeper water off the southwest shoal extending from Hog. Some gulls and terns were acting funny; they weren't exactly diving on bait, but they were hanging in the area. A couple of boats were idling about, too, as if expecting something to erupt. I didn't see anything as I fan-casted the area with a small swim-bait. Something (likely a blue) nipped the paddle off my paddle-tail, but that was it. After 15 minutes of silence, I moved on. Still in search mode, I moved north and east into Mt. Hope Bay. I'd either find some bait and activity or I'd sneak into some of the backwaters on the north end. Several miles later, I was easing my way into the Kickamuit River at Bristol Narrows. At the very least, I figured these types of pinch points might create some current seams. As I arrived at about 10 AM, it appeared to be the top of the outgoing tide. When I saw a rocky, wind-blown point with current pushing past and 15 or more feet of water immediately adjacent, I decided I needed to make a few casts. The new 3-inch NLBN (No Live Bait Necessary) swim-bait got crunched on my second cast! I landed a spunky 17-incher, and I was on the board for 2023! Now, my new Minn-Kota Riptide trolling motor with Spot-Lock shined for the first time in the salt. I repositioned, anchored electronically, and continued to fish this feature efficiently and effectively. I landed three more stripers up to 25 inches; that's a pretty good fish for me this early in the year and always a very nice battle on light inshore tackle. My next stop was just a few hundred feet further into the pond. Again, a current seam was forming downstream of a prominent point, and deep water was nearby. This time, my first cast was eaten by a plump 22-incher. I quickly landed a couple of other fish here too. While most of the day's action had been with "low and slow" presentations, one of these attacked just under the surface as I quickly retrieved the lure at the end of the cast. I saw it all go down on the clear water. My gut reaction was "Blue!" but I was certainly not disappointed to land another striper. My next few moves were to various pinch points and current seams in the Cole, Lee and Barrington Rivers. The Cole and Lee (both across the line and in Massachusetts) produced a couple more fish, but I didn't stir anything at the junction of the Barrington and Warren Rivers back in Little Rhody. At this point, it was 2:30 or so and I was out of pinch points. I could either call it a good day or push my luck in my search for size further up the Providence River. With a long drive ahead, I chose to recognize my good fortune and started to head in. What do I have to say about this? I hated to forego any portion of my Maine trout season, but chasing stripers seemed to have more upside. Despite having grown up in Rhode Island, this was all totally new water for me (on my own/without a guide), and while I didn't find blitzing big bass or any big baits (the allure of which had drawn me away from Maine as well as the familiarity of Cape Cod's southern salt ponds), I confirmed some good things. Birds and bait mean bass, but so does current; and it doesn't have to be much to collect at least a few biting fish. These were my first self-guided Rhode Island stripers! They were simply not part of my youth, but I was glad to share their presence on such attractive water. It only took about 60 years! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: April 29, 2023 Body of Water: Upper and Middle Range Ponds - Poland, Maine Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Trout Time: 8 AM - 2:30 PM Conditions: Clear at first but becoming cloudy; calm but developing a stiff ESE breeze over 10 mph; 40 - 54 degrees. Water temperature 48 - 51 degrees (+/-). With the weather "stuck" for the past two weeks, going North to a new pond wasn't going to be the best choice. Instead, I chose the local, familiar confines of Upper Range Pond and adjoining Middle Range Pond. What started as a chilly but gentle Spring morning became a raw grind of an outing. There was plenty of optimism for the day. Gentle conditions, two kinds of airborne insects (midges and tiny mayflies?) and favorable water temperatures all had me daydreaming of a good trout session. The initial spread included the Rainbow Trout Rapala F11 (flat-lined 125 feet behind the rod tip) and a tandem streamer from the sink-tipped fly line, both worked along break-lines and weediness with the electric motor. After a search around half or more of Upper pond without a bump, the substitutions began. I moved to deeper water, where humps and boulders abound, and where I marked plenty of fish. Clouds were increasing and the ESE wind was developing. I mixed in the main motor for increased speeds (above 1.9 mph) and improved boat control in the wind. Two to five colors of lead-core were implemented, and an S7 Rapala in green swam as my shotgun search lure. At about 11, still without a touch, I ventured into Middle Range Pond. The initial spread here included the trusty F11 and a DB Smelt presented off one or two colors of lead in shallow water. I'd searched a good chunk of the shoreline by 1 PM and still had not found any fish. I moved into the main lake basin (attaining depths over 60 feet on this lake) and presented lures from top to almost 40 feet deep with seven colors of lead. At the very least, I imagined that I had now added togue to my list of likely targets. I finally noticed a dense concentration of "something" on the graph, suspended at about 20 feet below the surface. I pulled the deepest core and shortened it to about four colors to run at about that depth. I'd tried to keep the fish honest with shallow presentations over this deep water, too, but perhaps my longest lead had been below any active fish? At just about 2 PM and over 58 feet of water at 1.7 mph, six solid hours into the session, the drag of my two-color presentation (now terminated with an orange-and-black-dotted DB Smelt) finally slipped with some authority and the light rod bowed deeply! But, in what has become something of a disturbing pattern, the small hooks pulled from the fish about half-way back to the boat. I never saw the fish, and my first thought was Laker!, but the spinning head shakes and successful gyrations it employed about 40 feet behind the boat make me wonder. It probably wasn't a giant, but it certainly was a substantial trout. I continued this effort in this area for another half hour, now with spoons presented off two and three colors of lead, but I ran out of time before anything else could happen. What do I have to say about this? I did confirm that my lead-core lines are reaching a little over five feet of depth for each color of line at approximately 1.7 mph when I grabbed bottom in 21.5 feet of water with four colors out. My mixed feelings for the trip include the following: -Half proud of my effort but half ashamed that I am struggling to catch any trout! -Half encouraged by contacting another nice fish but half revulsed by my inability to execute my chances -Half sunny but half cloudy -Half gentle but half raw -Half a decent launch facility but half a cluster -Half shallow but half deep -Half electric but half main motor -Half spoons but half stick-baits (and somehow, a bit of fly) -Half Upper but half Middle -Half loons but half ducks and geese -Half excited to move on to stripers but half reluctant to end this seasonal quest Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways |
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