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Date: June 27, 2020 Body of Water: Barnstable Harbor and outlet - Barnstable, Massachusetts Moon Phase: Waxing gibbous; New Moon + 6 days Tides: Falling until 11:15 AM, slack tide and then incoming well by 1 PM Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 7:30 AM - 1:30 PM Conditions: Quite pleasant, with the exception of afternoon crowds and congestion; clear to mostly cloudy; 70 - 80 degrees; mild southerly winds; water was quite clear; a beautiful introduction to an interesting port. A few things attracted me to Barnstable, but chief among them were the prospects of schoolies in the harbor, with purported easy access to the deeper and potentially bait-filled waters of the channel and Cape Cod Bay. I arrived with some anxiety about crowds and the ability to launch; but that was wasted discomfort, as neither were a problem until after Noon. By then, I'd had a full, enjoyable day, and I was able to cope with what is the simple reality of Cape Cod in Summer. Once again, I was fishing "blind" (without sonar), but between my GPS mapping system and the clarity of the water, I was all set. With the tide still outgoing, I decided to stay in the harbor and fish my way out. After a few truly blind and unproductive casts in some deeper water near an island, I continued toward the harbor's mouth. I stopped at the hint of a current seam along an isolated beach. I casted an olive Hogy epoxy jig up current and tried to dance it along the bottom; and instantly got hit. It was just a small striper, but several others of more interesting size followed, and I knew there was a group of fish here! I quickly tagged another small teenager, and I was on my way to another small Striper Cup Limit of three photographed stripers. Barnstable was showing well! Action slowed here after the first few casts, but I still had many visible follows, often with multiple fish at the same time. Some of these looked to be near legal size, too, so I stuck around, trying to coax some additional bites. When the next fish crushed my bait on a fast retrieve as I gave up on a cast (a nicer, 20-inch bass, too), I decided to go a bit heavier , faster and flashier with my favored Crippled Herring. Once again, the first few casts were greeted enthusiastically, including a couple of fish in the 22-23 inch range. Things were looking up! Things were really looking up when I noticed the day's first (and only) visible bait chase. I heard it more than saw the chase, but a striper immediately jumped on my Rebel Jumpin' Minnow. After a dogged fight, I landed my nicest striper in a few weeks, a solid 24-incher. Once again, I started seeing more fish than I was getting to bite. I decided to employ an entirely new-to-me technique to see if I could fire these fish up. I casted a Ben Parker Magnum Flutter Spoon (in the color "Undead", as pre-selected by A) up current, counted it down to the bottom and started a ripping/falling retrieve. I got touched on my first cast, but got absolutely hammered on my third. This was another stout 24-incher (still not a big striper by any means, but certainly worth fishing for), and this was the start of a productive hour or so. By now, the outgoing tide was at full force, and current seams and rips were obvious. The stripers seemed to prefer the deeper, slower holding water, but they maintained a steady aggressiveness towards the spoon. While I caught fish as small as 15 inches on this 8+ inch spoon, most of the fish were solid 22 - 24 inchers. And many truly crushed the spoon; in such a beautiful setting, this was fun fishing! I attempted to troll tubes-and-worms down-current with the tide, once again with no success. As I approached Green Can No. 1 near the channel's end, I decided to employ the flutter spoon in this deeper water. Once again, the first cast got touched, but the next cast got demolished. The biggest bass of the day (25 inches) came aboard. When the spoon bite slowed, I did manage another bass or two, as well as two 5-pound bluefish, on sand eel jigs; all near Green Can No. 1. As the tide slackened, I explored the flats beyond the harbor, as well as the deeper water of Cape Cod Bay. I found several groups of pogies, but none seemed to hold any bass. I saw no evidence of mackerel, and no other boats were trying to make bait. I trolled for blues with a single Yozuri swimmer for a while, and added the last bass of the day. With the incoming tide starting to build, I revisited my areas of success; and while I have no doubt that there were still fish to be caught, at 1:30 PM I called it quits on account of the crowded conditions. The day had been good to me; 17 stripers, 2 blues, and many fond memories. What do I have to say about this? I will be back; hopefully with A and/or K. And perhaps not on a summer Saturday. But other than the rude boating, crowds at navigation pinch points and the rather dysfunctional ramp, this was a very high-quality experience. I very much look forward to returning in the fall. But for now; amybaby22 is relocating to her "home" waters of Casco Bay, Maine for the remainder of the summer. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways
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Date: June 13, 2020 Body of Water: Waquoit Bay and Vineyard Sound - Falmouth, Massachusetts Moon Phase: Waning gibbous; Quarter Moon Tides: Just about High at first, falling throughout Boat: amybaby22 With: K! Target: Striped Bass Time: 7:30 AM - 1:30 PM Conditions: Nice day! Clear and sunny, 60 - 70 degrees F; winds swinging through easterly to northerly, about 10 mph; high tide dropping to low. About 1 foot chop out on Succonnessett Shoal. With K joining me for the day, I altered my plans from Going Big! to accommodate a little more relaxation and action. Instead of launching in Falmouth and heading directly to the boulder fields around Nobska Point or beyond to the Elizabeth Islands in search of bigger bass, I decided to launch on Waquoit Bay and get some bites under our belts before we headed outside. The change in plans also meant that Striper No. 1,000 was realistically within the day's grasp. The tenth striper landed for the day landed would be the thousandth documented to come into my possession! Conditions were peacefully quiet as we made our first casts along a flooded seawall at the junction of the Eel and Child Rivers. I threw a popper while K tossed a white swim-bait. She started getting bites almost immediately, but my popper was ignored. She missed a few before pointing her rod directly at the bait during the retrieve. Then, she started hooking up! She still lost a couple before I missed my sole chance on a topwater for the day. Then she got dialed in and landed a couple; unfortunately, these biters were small! I didn't want to "waste" our limited time with such small fish (if that's possible; but we were both on a time budget), and so as the outgoing tidal flow increased, we relocated to the cut behind Menauhant Yacht Club. I immediately connected with a one-ounce Crippled Herring spoon bounced along with the current. But this fish was tiny, too! While I was busy with the next one, I noticed a mini-blitz taking place immediately along the opposite shoreline. Now with four micro-stripers for the day, we crossed the channel and found a wealth of tiny bait along the undercut sod bank. This fishing was almost too easy, as either the swim-bait or an olive epoxy jig tossed into the current seam right along shore was attacked almost immediately. These were all small bass in the 14-inch range, though. Soon we were at 9 for the day and 999 for my lifetime. Should we leave these fish to find a more suitable specimen to commemorate 1,000? Or, should we stay and hope that a more respectable fish would be next to grab the lure? We had, indeed, seen a couple of much nicer fish here and elsewhere during the morning's effort. We chose to stay; and when my epoxy jig stopped and momentarily seemed glued to the bottom, I thought maybe this had been the right decision. Soon a gigantic sea robin came into focus, much to K's horror, disgust and dismay. But we didn't have to wait much longer for the next striper. As No. 1,000 came alongside the gunwale and I grabbed the leader (completing a legal, saltwater catch-and-release capture, in my book), it popped off. No picture was possible! But that was okay, this fish had been no bigger than any of the others this morning. And when No. 1,001 came on the next cast, it was a twin; good enough to capture the moment! I next pulled a nice scup out of another mini-blitz. We decided to ride the current out of the cut, and K immediately hooked the best bass of the day (but still just a middle teenager) in this very picturesque setting. After a short period of inactivity, decided to move and hunt bigger bass to end the day. We tried Waquoit's main outlet, but boat traffic and the lack of action kept us moving along. We motored to the middle portion of Succonnessett Shoals, and we fished the south side here with tube-and-worms. Trolling with the current as slowly as possible, we were able to reach bottom with five segments of lead core line. But other than sponges and mung, we never hooked up. Next, we moved into about ten feet of water and trolled quickly (3.5 mph, +/-) with a pair of Yozuri stick-baits. I'd heard that some sizable bluefish were present, and this seemed as likely as finding a bass in the depths. It didn't take long for a rod to jump and for a surprising amount of line to spill off the reel, and quickly too! We saw the blue jump a couple of times in the distance, but just as I settled into the fight, the rear treble bent out and the fish swam away. We now had some confidence, but nothing else happed as we approached Waquoit's main outlet. We decided to call it a day; we still had enough energy to deal with the likely situation at the ramp and Boston traffic. This turned out to be a good call, by the way. What do I have to say about this? Any day I can share with K on the water is a good day, and to have her aboard for No. 1,000 made both the day and the "event" more enjoyable and memorable. Yes, the stripers for the day were small, but they were fun! And what else could we ask for on such a relaxed and beautiful day? Meanwhile, I am still learning about these fish, their habits and habitats, and also about the abilities and capabilities of amybaby22. At 14 feet and with a broad shallow draft, she clearly excels inside; but even a chop of a foot represents a barrier to comfortably and efficiently moving around outside the salt pond cuts. That's okay, I will learn to pick my opportunities. If I have to spend some days watching stripers dart out from underneath sod banks to grab a lightly presented lure or fly instead of casting or trolling big baits in big water for bigger fish, I can be happy with that. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: June 6, 2020 Body of Water: Cape Cod Bay - Sandwich, Massachusetts Moon Phase: Full + one day Tides: Just about Low at first, rising throughout Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 7:30 AM - Noon Conditions: "Breaking Tide" on the Cape Cod Canal; canal flow into Cape Cod Bay; gray and foggy after a line of pre-dawn thunderstorms, but clearing by Noon; winds from the southwest at 15 mph; about 70 degrees; water seemed considerably colder than on south side of Cape With fog, thunderstorms and wind all playing a potentially significant role in the forecasted conditions, and having had a lot of recent fun with schoolies already on the Cape's south side, I decided to try a new port and target (potentially) larger stripers. The Sandwich Marina is almost at the eastern/northern mouth of the Cape Cod Canal, and provides easy and quick access to Cape Cod Bay. With offshore southwesterly winds, I expected I'd be able to fish around the mouth of the Canal and along shore to Scorton Ledge or beyond; while I expected that these same conditions would keep me inside the ponds with smaller fish at Falmouth. I'd never been to Sandwich, but I knew from my scouting that I'd have current, boulder fields and miles of potential trolling to check out, if I weren't otherwise distracted by birds and bait. The twin facts that the Full Moon's low tide just about coincided with dawn and that the largest fish of the year could/should be arriving in the area on any tide helped my decision, too. The day turned into an investment for the future. While I didn't catch much (three schoolie stripers at 14, 21 and 22 inches, only), I successfully executed a safe trip to a new port without any problems. I got a sense of local logistics, put in some time and scoped out some good potential water. I bent the rod and enjoyed the company of a pair of seals working the same boulder-strewn flat. I even used some time and energy to scope out the Barnstable Harbor ramp; that looks even more promising. Both of these ports might offer productive alternatives to the south side in heavy winds, with big-fish potential, to boot! I enjoyed drifting out of the mouth of the Canal with the tide. Under gray skies, I started with aggressive, 10-inch Hogy Original baits on unweighted hooks and also on the 3/4-ounce jig head. With no signs of fish, bait for birds, I then tried a heavy sand-eel tin and a 5-ounce swim-bait. The only other boat in the area trolled; but after 20 minutes or so of no activity, I decided to check out the boulder field just to the south of the Canal. Still at very low tide, most obstacles were visible, and I was pleased to note the correspondence between what I saw and what was mapped on my Garmin. Again, I started aggressively, with topwater and Hogy, but downscaled to a small ZMan swim-bait as I searched unsuccessfully for bites. I alternated between drifting and motoring to new locations, based on visible targets and mapped obstructions out to 12 feet of water or so. I decided to move south/east along the shoreline to give the last visible targets for quite a stretch (Old Sandwich Harbor jetties) a try with the swim-bait. This produced my only bites and fish for the day, as I quickly contacted two from the tip of the western/northern jetty and a single from this jetty's smaller mate across the barely discernible channel. (When I returned here later in the day, near high tide, these were almost completely submerged; this served as a stark reminder about the height of tidal change here; maybe as much as 8 feet or so.) Now with my "Striper Cup Limit" of three fish secured and photographed for the week, I decided to look for bigger fish. I headed out to 18-30 feet of water and trolled along this depth range with a tube-and-worm on lead core (one color per every six feet of depth) and a Rapala Giant Shad Rap. The mapping was useful, but I still have not yet installed the Garmin's transducer, and so this fishing was truly blind; this might have been my biggest handicap for finding fish or realizing I'd done so on this day with virtually no visible bird, bait or fish activity. This seemed to go well, however, as I was able to fish "clean" and at speeds below two knots. The only thing missing was any indication of positive feedback! After a bit of this, I decided to motor to Scorton Harbor and Scorton Ledge. The tide was incoming now, and I fished a little rip at the harbor's entrance with no luck. I was inclined to go inside the harbor and find a rip or deep hole, but surfcasters were guarding the inlet, and I couldn't pass without disturbing them; and so I left it to them. I then motored out to Scorton Ledge and re-deployed my trolling spread. After three-quarters of a circuit without a bite, I decided to drift over the crown of the ledge and bottom fish. A single drift with a Hogy Heavy Jig bounced on bottom went unanswered. I called it a day and was pulling the boat from the ramp at Noon. What do I have to say about this? I'll do better next time here, if only because I'll be armed with this little bit of experience, and probably be complete with sonar! Finally, the two seals I encountered seemed much larger than the ones I am used to seeing in Casco Bay, Maine. There was also something "different" about their snouts. What do you know, based on this article (www.capecod.com/lifestyle/the-seals-of-cape-cod/ ), I believe these were Gray Seals. At least I can suspect that I was around some fish while I was in their company! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: May 31, 2020 Body of Water: Waquoit Bay - Falmouth, Massachusetts Moon Phase: Waxing gibbous; Full - five days Tides: Just about High at first, falling throughout Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 7 AM - 12:30 PM Conditions: Crisp and clear with NW winds to 15 mph or so; about 60-65 degrees F; quiet start, but finishing with a True Cluster situation at the White's Landing ramp After a stretch of hot, humid days with southwesterly winds, the forecast called for substantial winds from the north. I knew I'd have to fish the Cape's south side, and I thought the wind my keep me "inside" Waquoit Bay and nearby salt ponds, so I launched from the familiarity of White's Landing. I wanted to find some bigger fish (they should be showing up!), but it's difficult to ignore water that you suspect is holding fish. I decided to fish the junction of Eel and Child Rivers quickly. The slack high tide wasn't offering much water movement, but it was offering flooded cover. After a few unanswered casts with the Z-Man swim-bait, I picked up the Jumpin' Minnow and re-located to a flooded, rocky edge. The first couple of bass were welcome, but small. However, I enjoyed a tremendous, missed explosion on my bait, and that kept me interested in the area. As I approached the tip of the rocks, I could see some surface action right up on shore, and sure enough, the day's first "nice" bass of the day responded properly. She wasn't a giant, but she was certainly a quality fish, and so I gave this area some more time. I scratched out another small one, another "nice" 24-incher, and enjoyed some additional, explosive bites. Before I left this area for good, I swam the Z-Man through some deeper water, now with a little current with the falling tide. Three casts; three fish. But two were micro schoolies, and the last was literally a "fluke" flounder of about 14 inches. With outgoing flow increasing, I decided to try the little outlet behind Menauhant Yacht Club. I had an image of riverine stripers thumping my 1-ounce Crippled Herring tin jig as it bounced along the bottom. I trolled a swimming plug to get there; a single "tick" along the way was the only "action" I had. I beached the skiff at the outlet and cast, quartering upstream. Just after my lure hit bottom, I felt a distinct tap and set the hook. This was the first of 15 stripers I would take here with this technique. Most were very small, and only one approached 20 inches. I dropped a couple of heavier fish and put on a decent show for the parade of boats coming and going through this narrow inlet. When the boat traffic cleared, I decided to go try the larger, main outlet. Here I managed just a single, modest bass, again on the drifting Crippled Herring. I also tried poppers and sand-eel jigs here. I had no other touches, nor was I observing fish, bait or birds. By now, the wind was more westerly and seemingly building. I had planned to go to Succonnessett Shoal, but the only boats I could see in that direction were seemingly very distant. (In hindsight and reviewing my maps, these boats were likely on other, distant shoals; Succonnessett was just east of me). Anyway, I decided that this was not the day to push any of my luck, and so turned to my Garmin mapping system; the western end of L'Hommedieu Shoal was directly in front of Great Pond Outlet and within reach. It was a bit of a slog out to Green Can 15, but I got there safe and dry. I'd intended to troll with my tune-and-worm, tipped with a real sandworm. Unfortunately, I discovered that the current and wind were working against each other, and the water was infested with mung. I referred to the mapping system again and picked out a wreck in about 20 feet of water outside of Falmouth Harbor. I'd still be fishing blind (without sonar; I've yet to install the transducer), but I thought this might be a good test of the accuracy and utility of my new mapping toy. Sure enough, in a half dozen drifts, I caught a similar number of porgies (scup) and sea robins on jigging tins. I missed at least that many bites, too. These were not giants, but this part of the mission had still been successfully completed; I think this tool will keep me both safe and on fish! What do I have to say about this? Continuous exposure to new water and conditions, accompanied by refinement of techniques that I've successfully employed so far have made amybaby22 and Cape Cod a refreshing and challenging combination. That was one of the goals with her acquisition! As for the new Grand Slam, I am pretty sure that this was my first day ever with stripers, flounder, scup and sea robins. Not necessarily what I'd planned for, but I'll take it, and use it as a tool to remember this pretty fine day! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways |
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