|
Date: June 23 - 26 , 2022 Body of Water: Casco Bay - Falmouth, Maine Moon Phase: Waning crescent moon Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone or A Target: Striped Bass Time: Various; pre-dawn to dusk; whenever I could! Conditions: Brutally clear and much warmer than usual; Summer sets in. Water becoming more green; water temperatures rise from 55 to 64 in the main bay, and up to 70 degrees F locally along shore. I have been faithful in my efforts to record the details of each and every fishing session, but I just can't do it right now. I am busy, distracted, and tired. Plus, the fishing isn't so great; whatever I am learning is from the negative side of experience. Mackerel are available, but just barely. They are coming in sparse singles and the occasional double from disparate locations. Putting in the necessary time can probably assure a few baits and a bass bite or two, but there's little to no chance of procuring extra bait. Therefore, I am slow-trolling single baits instead of casting to the rocks. And the bass are not thick on the rocks, yet. My mack might swim for quite a while before it gets attacked. Occasionally, that attack is from a seal instead of a bass. Meanwhile, the bass seem to have temporarily vacated my shore area with the rapid increase in water temperatures, and even the tube-and-worm is not producing much. Still, is there anything more pleasant to do with one's time than manipulating a bait along likely shorelines and anticipating that next encounter? I'm not quite sure what gear to shift or adjustments to make. With a little luck, I'll settle into a more productive groove, soon! What do I have to say about this? I am still catching some nice fish, and generally not encountering any problems while trying to do so. I wasn't expecting this mid-season slump (at least not this early in the season), but I do expect that I will land on a real pile of willing bass sooner or later. Until then, I'll appreciate what I've got going while tending to the other life matters that make this all possible. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways
0 Comments
Date: June 20, 2022 Body of Water: Casco Bay - Falmouth, Maine Moon Phase: Waning Quarter Moon Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 9 AM - 3 PM Conditions: Low tide at 10:55 AM. Super clear; NNE wind in excess of 15 mph and 55 - 65 degrees. Water was green and becoming more stained; water temperatures 55 degrees (+/-). A slow start to the mackerel fishing between Sturdivant and Basket Islands, combined with the very strong NNE wind, meant that my first bass attempt was on the protected south side of Basket Island. I'd not yet fished here, despite its proximity to the landing. While I was seeking mackerel, I was noticing the rugged shoreline and various hazards extending into the water. I figured I'd try swimming a mack on the lee side, where I'd have the best bait control. I'd gone the length of the island without any action, but the mackerel sure seemed nervous. As I approached the west end, I maneuvered the boat as close to some boulders as I felt I could and slid through the water. Sure enough, I saw the rod telegraph the hit on the trailing bait. My mini-slump was over. I admired and released the cleanly-hooked 24-incher. It's always a pleasure to find stripers in new spots! Duly noted; this happened one hour before scheduled low tide. I left to find more bait. I expanded my search radius but still hit the lee shore of Sturdivant with only a pair of mackerel. I commenced my search about half-way down the south side of the island and worked to the west; I'd fished the other half of this shoreline the previous day. As I approached some boulders in an inside turn, my mack was cracked on top and the bass ran with it. When the hook pulled, I could still feel the weight of the bait and so dropped it in place. Sure enough, it got picked up again, only for the hook to pull again! I retrieved my bait and saw a nice bass following it. I quickly re-hooked the dead bait through the jaw and nostril (the hook had buried into the mack's side when the bass originally hit) and retrieved it like a jerk bait. Once again, the bass was interested, but did not trigger. I followed up with a pencil popper and then circled through with the other livie a couple of times with no further reaction. So I relocated a few hundred yards up the shore and deployed the tube-and-worm. As I was leaving the boulder field on my first pass in about 14 feet of water, the tube got crushed. A very hard-fighting striper of 26 inches came aboard. I don't know if this were the same fish, but it was the right approximate size of the bass I'd sighted and sure had the right attitude! Duly noted; this was about one hour into the flood. I circled through again with nothing to show for it (except a lost tube). So I was back to making macks again. Expanding my range further, I put three more in the well in about 15 minutes. I figured that should be sufficient for me to end the day. I decided to stay close at first and continued my exploration of Sturdivant's shoreline and the adjacent Sturdivant Ledge. Nothing happened here, and I noted a colony of seals on the rocks at the end of the ledge. Perhaps their presence explained the apparent lack of bass around here. I relocated to the eastern end of Clapboard and surprisingly, struck out. I was off to the western end. This was very exposed to the wind, but I was able to establish a controlled drift in about 12 feet of water. In another boulder-filled corner, I had an extended chase, grab, and drop. Despite swimming my remaining macks extensively in this area and beyond, that was my last action of the day. What do I have to say about this? The fishing wasn't great, but it was a beautiful (albeit windy) day! I ground my way to some mild success, and I now have two new spots that I hope to turn into two new productive areas. It will take some some to develop their potential, but who knows what I will find along the way? At the very least, I know they are fishable during periods of strong, northerly winds. Each bite I experienced was on a presentation directly adjacent to a prominent boulder. Perhaps I'd do better casting macks to these targets, as opposed to slow-trolling them with the boat, but I certainly don't have enough bait (yet) to do so. And perhaps when more fish filter in, their competitive nature will get more of them committed to making mistakes. It was a long day and a lot of effort for just two stripers, but it was still a really good one, in my judgment. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: June 19, 2022 Body of Water: Casco Bay - Falmouth, Maine Moon Phase: Full Moon plus 5 days; waning gibbous moon Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 9 AM - 1 PM Conditions: Low tide at 9:55 AM. Cloudy; Northeast wind in excess of 10-15 mph and about 55 degrees. Sporadic showers/squalls. Water was clear but green; water temperatures 55 degrees (+/-). After a slow start to my day, I headed to Broad Cove to catch the bottom of the tide. I figured I'd find bass in the "gut" again. I quickly donated a couple of worms, but otherwise my tube-and-worm went untouched. I didn't see too may targets on the sonar either, so after an hour of this slow fishing, I decided to look for mackerel, but in a new-to-me location. The channel between Sturdivant and Basket Islands is adjacent to my general "East of Clapboard" mackerel grounds, and perhaps offers more opportunities for current and changes in depth to corral the macks. Trolling a Sabiki weighted with a Hogy Squinnow Jig, I immediately tagged a mack. But that promising start fizzled, and I continued fruitlessly. I resorted to "dropping" my rig down to targets on the sonar. Everything was 30 feet or more down, and usually near bottom. I managed a couple more like this, but never really found a group of active mackerel. In fact, every one I landed came in as an isolated single. Still, a few mackerel should be enough to locate and catch a bass or two or a few. My swimming mackerel caught no attention on Clapboard's east end, despite considerable, focused effort. When my first pass down the length of Clapboard's west end went untouched, I circled around and tried once more. My only action for the day was a chase-and-grab, but that bass dropped the bait before I could connect. The fish were reluctant on this day which was turning truly miserable with increasing wind and rain. I went home, skunked. What do I have to say about this? My funky slump continues, but I did like exploring the area between Sturdivant and Basket. This area is close to home and really should be part of my comfortable, home waters. It felt more like March or April than the last day of Spring. I appeared to be the only sport-fisherman out on this gloomy day. Oh well, they can't all be comfortable and awesome (I guess). Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: June 14, 2022 Body of Water: Casco Bay - Falmouth, Maine Moon Phase: Full Moon Boat: None, shore fishing from landing float. With: A Target: Striped Bass Time: 4:10 AM - 6:10 AM Conditions: Low tide at 5:15 AM; Quadrants II and III. Clear; calm; 55 - 60 degrees. In sum, absolutely beautiful! Water was clear but green; water temperatures around 60 - 61 degrees. This was a mark-the-calendar, can't miss tide. But somehow, it turned out to be a flop and I didn't touch a fish all session. I won't be wrong when I admit; this was a big surprise to me! My simple approach was to suspend blood-worms under sliding floats for whatever time I could manage before my regular work day. I was mildly surprised when my first drift went untouched, and I was very surprised by the lack of action in the first half hour. Still, I figured the bass would arrive at some point during the tide. I'd started with tending just a single rod, but as the light progressed and the action remained slow, I added a second rod to cover more water. At just about sunrise/ 5 AM this second float got pulled under, but the fish dropped the bait before I got tight. I thought that would be the start of the morning's action, but it was an isolated incident. My next bite took place about ten minutes later at the other extent of my drift. This time I connected with the bass, but ever-so-briefly. The hook pulled and I retrieved half my worm. The wind really got knocked out of my sails when my float got pulled under the third time at 5:35 AM. This time, my connection to the bass was broken immediately. My leader had parted mid-way. A month of hard fishing had literally taken its toll. I gave it another half hour, but the bite never materialized. We chose to go home and get ready for work. I left, skunked on the Full Moon of June! WTF? What do I have to say about this? Both rods were taken home for full rigging replacement. Of course, this should have happened before I lost a fish, but I'm not that disciplined, I guess. At least, not all the time. In a weird sense, this was motivating. What is it that I don't understand? What was I missing this morning? Did I break off on my chance at a 40-inch bass? Trying to figure it all out in both particular and broad senses is a large part of what makes this so interesting to me. A mentor's mother used to use "WTF" in a unique manner. To this kind-hearted soul, "WTF" clearly meant "Why, that's fabulous!" And so I'll declare "WTF" for today. It was a beautiful morning, I was with A, who grounds me and is my best friend, there was plenty of avian wildlife to watch, mosquitos remain curiously absent, and these were likely the best two hours of my day. Who could argue with the assessment, "WTF"!?!?!?!???? Post Script A few days later, I wasn't fishing; I was painting the porch and cutting the grass. I took a break to check on the boats and headed to the float. Neighbor and friend D had already caught a nice bass when his float was pulled down again. It was an over-slot beast of a shore fish! It was another example of what I don't know. The tide was "wrong" (in the sense that Quadrant III, the beginning of the flood was late in the morning) and the skies were blue. It was mid-day! Obviously, the best time to fish is whenever you can. That's when you catch them. As I said above, trying to figure it all out in both particular and broad senses is a large part of what makes this so interesting to me. I'll just use this incident as further motivation to gain that understanding while also giving myself a break if fish and schedules do not align. Post-Post Script Right tide; wrong time of day. Still, it's always worth trying and the possibility of such an outcome is truly motivating. And let's face it, most of my boat fishing is during the bright (if not height) of day. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: June 12, 2022 Body of Water: Casco Bay - Falmouth, Maine Moon Phase: Full Moon minus 2 days; waxing gibbous moon Boat: Shore fishing from float and then amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 4:15 AM - 11:30 AM Conditions: Low tide at 3:33 AM. Quadrant III from float at first. Clear and dead calm; mild southerly wind increasing around 10 AM. About 55 - 65 degrees. Water was clear but green; water temperatures ranged from 53 (Hussey Sound) to 57 (float) to 62 (Cousins Island). I was fishing by 4:15 AM and I knew I was running late. Ah, the joys of summer! The session got off to a blistering fast start, with three stripers to about 23 inches landed in the first 25 minutes. I had several other opportunities until sunrise at about 5 AM, but somehow lost my landing mojo, if only temporarily. Still, a few more worm bites and another landed fish kept me at the float until 5:45, when I made the switch to amybaby22. I returned to the grounds east of Clapboard by 6:15, and yesterday's mackerel were found to be... scarce! I managed only a couple in 45 minutes or so. I took these to College Island in Hussey Sound, where the water was quite a bit cooler. I found no bass here, and when I converted to mackerel fishing the rip off the tip of College (and environs), I found only a single (but giant) mackerel and a couple of tiny gaddiforms. (I don't know if these were pollock or cod, but they were cute!) I took my single remaining live mackerel of appropriate size to Cow Island and scored a nice, fat striper on my first pass. Clearly, if bass were home, they would fall for a live mack, and so I set out in search for more of both. I'd seen a lot of seals in the water between Clapboard and Cow Islands on my way to Hussey, and so I decided to look for mackerel among these predators. When they first showed, I set lines to troll for macks. Not only seals, but a pod of porpoises patrolled this area. In fact, I ended up leaving because a group of three (mother and two smaller children?) took an interest in my boat and persisted in staying close by. Rather than risk any encounter, I motored away. I managed to slowly collect a few more macks from the water east of Clapboard. I went to the west end of Clapboard to find some new bass. This area was generous! I quickly landed three more stripers to 27 inches and lost my fourth mackerel to a huge surface blow-up. Rather than struggle to find more macks, I decided to take advantage of high slack tide and the start of the ebb in new water. I navigated for my first time to the bridge joining Cousins Island to the mainland. Here, I located the "river" channel and trolled a juicy tube-and-worm along the edge. Once again, I marked many likely targets but did not hook up. When I moved into shallower water, the familiar formula of 12 feet of water, "live" bottom, 55 feet of line off the rod tip and moving as slowly as possible quickly produced a smallish striper of approximately 20 inches. Once again, things looked promising, but I didn't connect again in this new-to-me-area. I simply donated enough worms to let me think I might catch more; if not this day, then on some other visit. At 11:30 AM the wind seemed to be freshening. I didn't want to struggle in a head-wind far from home, so I went back. The ride was fine, and the wind actually faded over the course of the afternoon. I thought I'd return for another session, but I didn't. Sunday Night Blues gripped me, and it was easier to just stay home and chill. What do I have to say about this? For 24 hours or so, I've been at odds with myself. Too tired to take on the work of fishing... and yet still able to work! Fortunately, my loss of mojo was temporary, and I'm looking forward to my next effort as I write. I'm doing pretty well so far this season, while still dedicating time to new techniques (fly), locations (Broad Cove, Cousins Island, Presumpscot River) and attitudes (positive and pleasant). Things are working our better than pretty well; I'm catching a lot of nice, quality fish. Still, I'd like to find that adjustment that could mean faster sustained action or bigger fish. I feel like I am on the edge of what's possible as opposed to full realization. But, I don't want to be greedy, and I don't want to waste any negative energy when I need all the positive energy I can muster to get through the week. It was probably good for me to take the afternoon and evening "off". Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Phase 1 Date: June 11, 2022 Body of Water: Casco Bay - Falmouth, Maine Moon Phase: Full Moon minus 3 days; waxing gibbous moon Boat: amybaby22 With: A Target: Striped Bass Time: 7 AM - 10 AM Conditions: High tide at 8:49 AM. Generally clear with high haze; gentle wind and 55 - 60 degrees. Water was clear but green; water temperatures 57 degrees (+/-). After a leisurely start to the day (no alarms, no rush), A and I headed to Broad Cove for some relaxing tube-and-worming. My first pass was up the "gut" and although I was seemingly marking fish, we had no takes. I adjusted to a specific depth range for my next pass (12 feet +/- and preferably with scruffy, live bottom; my tube was about 55 feet back), and quickly the rod bowed to a very strong and feisty striper. This fish crushed the lure and fought way out of its size class. Things were looking good! But Broad Cove yielded only this single striper. I donated several more worms, but these fish just weren't taking with any consistency. I switched to a white, top-water walking bait for a while and alternated in some casts with a small swim-bait, but nothing responded. These can be fickle fish; fortunately, they can also feed with reckless abandon. After a while, I knew it was time to change, and so I decided to catch high slack and the start of the ebb in Mussel Cove. We arrived at Mussel Cove at slack high tide. A fly-fishing boat blocked the entrance to the upper cove for a while, so I patiently worked our way in with lures. As they moved down, we moved up, and A suspended a worm in deeper holes. We even trolled the tube-and-worm back out without revealing anything other than the unexpected absence of stripers. Trolling along the Falmouth Foreside shoreline on our way back to the landing, I had two worms plucked off the tube without connecting... just like last week. Despite visible piles of bottom oriented fish, they just were not oriented to feeding heavily. Back to the dock after this very pleasant (if not exactly productive) session, our reward was the potential of a three-hour nap. It had been quite the week! Phase 2A Date: June 11, 2022 Body of Water: Casco Bay - Falmouth, Maine Moon Phase: Full Moon minus 3 days; waxing gibbous moon Boat: shore fishing from float With: A Target: Striped Bass Time: 3:30 PM - 4 PM Conditions: Low tide at 2:49 PM. Quadrant III. Generally clear with high haze; gentle wind and 55 - 60 degrees. Water was clear but green; water temperatures now 64 degrees (+/-) at the float! We returned to the landing for a picnic and then the prospect of a mackerel hunt. When I was done with my sandwich, I checked the water temperature at the float and was surprised to see a sizable jump in temperature. Given that and the current favorable tide, I decided to float a worm before we headed out in the boat. Three quick fish to 25 inches in three drifts emphatically confirmed their presence. We left then biting, though, as others congregated on the landing. It was turning into a warm, gentle, beautiful evening. Phase 2B Date: June 11, 2022 Body of Water: Casco Bay - Falmouth, Maine Moon Phase: Full Moon minus 3 days; waxing gibbous moon Boat: amybaby22 With: A Target: Striped Bass Time: 4 PM - 7 PM Conditions: Low tide at 2:49 PM. High Tide at 9:07 PM. Flood throughout. Generally clear with high haze; gentle wind and 60 degrees. Water was clear but green; water temperatures 58 degrees (+/-). A and I targeted mackerel for the first time this season. We hit the area off the east end of Clapboard Island, between Sturdivant and Basket Islands. Trolling a Sabiki anchored by a two-ounce Hogy Squinnow jig, my first pass quickly caught a double. When I dropped down again, I filled the string with four or five more. This was looking too easy! After another twenty minutes or so and just a couple more in the well, it was time to live-line these mack-snacks to any stripers hanging around the rocks. After a little bit of a slow start at the east end of Clapboard Island (was there too much bait here? My screen showed an awful lot!), I connected with the first mackerel-eating striper of the year. This fish was not alone, either, as subsequent passes caught the attention of other bass. We landed four (including 27- and 28-inchers) and missed few strikes, too. With the onset of the June Full Moon Period, it seemed like summer fishing had settled in. What do I have to say about this? This was, perhaps, the most complete and pleasant day we've shared since moving to Maine. The fishing wasn't extraordinary, but it was pretty darn good at times, varied, and a provided a nice reason to simply be outside for the best parts of the day. Once again we were joined by eagles and seals. Bunker showed themselves in numbers, the modified live well worked like a charm and no longer floods the deck, and in summary, all was good! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: June 5, 2022 Body of Water: Casco Bay and Broad Cove - Falmouth/Cumberland, Maine Moon Phase: First Quarter waxing moon Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 8:45 AM - 1:30 PM Conditions: Low tide at 10 AM. Clear; northerly wind about 10 mph and 60 - 65 degrees. Water was clear but green; water temperatures 56 - 58 With no clear plan, I started my day uncharacteristically late. I used the late start as an opportunity to pick up the last two dozen blood-worms from The Tackle Shop. Reports there seemed to generally reflect my experience, and so I started with the simple and familiar. I decided to make a pass by the landing with the tube-and-worm. Within ten minutes I got my first bite. It stole my worm, but I'd marked multiple fish at this spot in about 11 feet of water, so I motored up-tide and reset. Same result! And then I repeated myself again. Ughh! I hate donating worms and switched to casting a swim-bait. After ten casts or so without a response, I convinced myself that these nibbling bass were small and not worth my time. I decided to use these same tactics, but in new water. Twenty minutes later or so, at just about slack low tide, I was setting up in Broad Cove for the first time. I'd followed my mapping up the "gut" of the bay, and as I idled about, I started marking fish near bottom. I'd perhaps only trolled 30 seconds when the rod bent over and the drag pulled a bit. This was no nibble, this fish had eaten! Glad to have broken the ice with a fat and spunky striper in the low 20s (inches, that is), I quickly re-deployed and hooked up again. This time it was a solid 25-incher, a quality fish on any day in my book. I was trolling the tube-and-worm as slowly as possible, and about 55 - 60 feet (nine repeated color patterns, plus leader) behind the rod tip. Both of these fish came from about 13 feet of water in the mapped gut. I gradually expanded my searching/trolling area as I continued to hunt biting fish. I occasionally switched trolling directions as the fickle wind swung around the compass erratically. I also mixed in a few rounds of lure casting (Ben Parker spoons and small, white swim-baits), but other than a single visible follow, these generated no action, so I kept turning back to the tube-and-worm. I lost and found active groups of fish a few times. At the end of my session, two or more hours into the flood, the fish were pegged to a nearby shallow drop-off in 8 - 10 feet of water. By the time I'd burned through my first dozen worms, I'd landed nine stripers to a verified 27 inches, with an additional unverified, flubbed "keeper" boat-side. Not a bad recovery after losing my first three worms to nibblers! This was a solid tube-and-worm session, and in a new-to-me location to boot! This was especially good action given the high skies and bright conditions. I arrived back at the landing at 1:30 PM to pick up A. This was about a 15-minute trip given the extensive path through Falmouth's mooring field. But A and I enjoyed a leisurely return to Broad Cove, where we shared a pleasant, drifting lunch. Just as I approached Anderson Rock to set up a trolling pass, we were approached by a couple of nervous kayakers. They'd lost track of their son and their nephew. With a general idea of the direction they'd taken and a description of "one red, one green" kayaks, I motored across Broad Cove. Soon enough a single reg kayak came into focus. The oblivious son was okay; we pointed him the direction of Cumberland Town Landing and told him to meet his parents there. He wasn't sure where the cousin was, but pointed towards Sturdivant Island. We returned to the parents and told them to meet their son at the town landing while we looked for the nephew. We found him paddling uncertainly near the eastern end of Sturdivant. We beached the boat, loaded him into amybaby22, connected his green kayak with a tow rope, and headed back. Rescue complete, A and I turned to the fishing. But the wind had continued to increase from the southwest, I had little boat control, and we soon called it quits. We had our own long slog back, given the stiffening headwind. What do I have to say about this? Broad Cove had been a good audible. The stripers seemed more aggressive in the slightly chalkier water. It offered a pleasant and peaceful setting (little boat traffic, fewer moorings and lobster pots, etc.). I'll be sure to return to explore it further! It had been a good day, not only for the fishing and the shared time with A, but also because we had helped a few folks in more-than-mild distress. All the kayakers were wearing life jackets, but beyond that, they had not planned well. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: June 4, 2022 Body of Water: Casco Bay - Falmouth, Maine Moon Phase: New Moon plus 6 days; waxing crescent moon Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 1 PM - 4:20 PM Conditions: High tide at 3:35 PM. Generally clear; Southerly wind in excess of 10 mph and 55 - 60 degrees. Water was clear but green; water temperatures around 59 degrees. Any benefits of my recent vacation have been seemingly erased. After a hectic week and a morning of work, I needed to take it easy. I focused on simply casting a Clouser Minnow to the edges of visible rocks and weeds. A stiff southerly breeze affected both my casting and my drift. I tucked behind Clapboard Island. Pretty early into this endeavor, a striper revealed itself and chased my fly in just a couple of feet of water. Despite the brightening afternoon skies, I wasn't totally crazy in my modest expectation of a fish. That was it for Clapboard, despite my persistent casting at both ends of the island. So I decided to catch the end of the flood and slack high in Mussel Cove. The wind pushed me up the cove as I casted to known cover and deeper holes. I was about as far up Mill Creek as possible when my line tightened and I connected with a good fish. It turned out to be a really nice fish for such tight quarters, and at 28 inches, my new Personal Best for stripers on the fly! This had gone down at the approximate end of high slack tide; but the persistent wind up the axis of the cove was perhaps maintaining the water height and delaying the ebb. After another pass through this water, I worked my way out of the cove without another sign of fish. I was somewhat surprised by that; and so I dredged some known haunts with a swim-bait, just to make sure I hadn't missed any fish. Nobody answered, so I guess I confirmed to myself that nobody was home at this time. With only a single hook-up for the session, I still left pretty satisfied. What do I have to say about this? My casting has significantly improved. I'm glad I spent so much time on the lawn practicing over the course of the fall and winter. I still need some help with my line management. I never got this fish on the reel, but instead fought it by stripping. I didn't want to provide any slack, and I didn't trust myself to successfully transfer the line to the reel during the fight. I'll keep working on it. This lone strike of the day also came on a cast where I gave the fly extra time to sink. Maybe that had made a difference. It didn't matter for the rest of the day. However, I have tucked some sinking tips into my boat box, just in case. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: May 30, 2022 Body of Water: Casco Bay - Falmouth, Maine Moon Phase: New Moon Boat: Shore fishing from Landing float and then amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 4:20 AM - 7:20 AM; and 8:00 AM - 11:30 AM Conditions: Low tide at 6:03 AM; Quadrants II and III for the shore session and then flood tide continuing through the remainder. Clear; generally flat calm; 55 - 70 degrees. Water was clear but green; water temperatures 58 +/- Every so often the current at the float flows from left to right. This is unusual and rarely bodes well for the fishing. Still, as I watched my float on its first drift with a bit of dismay and assessed the situation, it disappeared. I wound tight to a sporty striper in the 20-inch class. Things were off to a good start for this highly anticipated tide. I started with only a single rod in use as I watched the float intensely. Over the last couple of seasons this strategy has resulted in more fish landed and fewer gut-hookings. Sometimes the bass take the worm very delicately, and being quick to wind down on these fish leads to more action and fewer stolen worms. I am hooking these bass before they've taken enough line from the bait-runner reels to announce their presence. The extra attention has paid off. About 15 minutes into the session, my lighted float wobbled slightly before being pulled slowly just beneath the water's surface. You never really know what might be eating the worm, and this time I was surprised by a lengthy and fast run past the first line of moorings when I came tight. I finally brought a stubborn and lean 32-inch striper to hand; it was still before sunrise, but my morning was already made. The bite never got fast and furious, but it was relatively steady. There was an expected lull at the turn of the tide and as the day brightened with sunrise, but the bites piled up and by 7 AM I had landed 10 bass, all on the suspended float and blood-worm. I missed a few chances, too, including my first break-off of the season (15-pound fluoro does chafe). I noticed groups of bass following hooked fish for the first time this season; they are still arriving. The fish were very respectable, too, as several were in the 25-26 inch range in addition to the 32. While none were "micro bass", a few were in the 20-inch range and so several year classes were represented. Regardless, the fish available so far this year are nice, high-quality fish; let's hope there are enough behind this class to keep things rolling in the future! The ninth bass of the morning was my first of the season to be hooked deeply. Circle hooks work! The previous 20 had all been hooked in the outer regions of their maw and easily released with minimal damage. After a short break, I set out in amybaby22. Skies were high and clear, the water was flat calm. I simply hoped to convert my remaining few worms into bass action and to stretch my fly line. I ended up donating the remaining worms over the course of the morning to short-striking bass along the Falmouth shoreline. I was surprised to encounter fly-fishing guides on my first two selected spots for fly-casting. One was posted inside Mussel Cove with the rising tide, the other worked the rocks close to Prince Point. I simply worked around these boats and set up at the end of the Prince Point reef. I rode the current along the southern face of this, casting my tan/white Clouser to the edges of submerged weeds. I was mostly enjoying the simple, process of casting when I noticed several bass appearing from under the weeds and following my fly. I hastened my retrieve and a bass visibly pounced! This 25-incher set the new standard for fly-caught fish on amybaby22, and it was cool to witness the strike and fight in the clear water. And this wasn't a fluke, either. After my best cast of the day to the edge of some weedy cover, a boil indicated a take and I came tight again. Unfortunately, I broke this fish off (I was aware of a wind knot in my leader but chose to think it was still heavy enough/strong enough to withstand my schoolies bass). I re-tied with a home-made olive/white Clouser and scored another 25-incher on a fast retrieve along another weed edge. My casting is getting better, but my line management if pretty terrible. Oh well, if my practice sessions can still yield some nice action (especially during fairly brutal conditions), I'll keep practicing! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: May 29, 2022 Body of Water: Casco Bay - Falmouth, Maine Moon Phase: New Moon minus one day; waning crescent moon Boat: amybaby22 - after an early shore-fishing session from Landing float With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 4:15 AM - 1:30 PM Conditions: Low tide at 5:22 AM; Quadrants II and III from the float, and then using the boat for mobility. High tide at 11:33 AM. Very clear skies and 50 -70 degrees; SW wind calm to over 10 mph after about Noon. and 55. Water was clear but green; water temperatures 55 - 60 depending on location and tide. I got a little antsy after my first cast; my blood-worm had been ignored! I was relieved to have a confident pull-down on the next drift, and I broke the day's ice with a teenager bass. By dead low tide, I had landed a couple more, including a 26-incher. The bites disappeared as the tide reversed, but resumed in a short spurt at about 6 AM, one-half hour or so after the turn. I landed number four for the session and fished until about 7 AM before deciding to board amybaby22. With no real sign of bait or groups of bass, I decided to slowly cover water with the tube-and-worm. After a pass along my familiar stretch of Falmouth shoreline (I got absolutely hammered right in front of the landing but failed to hook up), I mostly covered new water, especially in the vicinity of Sturdivant Island. I didn't generate any further action here. Still, I'll have to return because a deeper channel sweeps from my mackerel grounds right along the north side of this island, on its way into Broad Cove. With nothing going on, I decided to catch the last 1.5 hours of incoming tide at the mouth of the Presumpscot. After the 15-minute run, I did several passes along the channel behind Mackworth Island, under the Route 1 Bridge and a bit further upstream. Several other boats were working this broad area, but I didn't see anybody with any action. My single bite consisted of another explosive hit immediately upstream of the bridge, which somehow (again!) failed to result in a hook-up. I then ran to Mussel Cove, arriving at slack high tide. I worked my way up as far as possible, exploring and casting a tan/white Clouser Minnow on my 9-weight fly rod. I found a single bass in a deep pocket way upstream and landed the first fly-rod bass aboard amybaby22! I couldn't replicate that fish, and with the tide now starting to fall, turned to the tube-and-worm as I exited the upper portion of Mussel Cove. With just about 25 feet of line out, I hooked up with a surprisingly strong fish near the old mill dam ruins. That fish pulled some serious drag as it fought in the shallow water, but the hook pulled and I never saw it. I continued my tube-and-worm troll back to the landing. With about 50 or 55 feet of line out and going as slowly as possible in about 13 feet of water, my tube got hammered one last time. I finally converted a bite into a solid hookup and landed a fat 26-incher. Given the high skies and bright conditions, this was a beautiful, mid-day bonus fish. What to I have to say about this? This was quite the effort for half a dozen stripers. But it included several nice fish, my first on the fly, and I covered some new, intriguing water. Plus, with the holiday weekend, I could look forward to doing it again the next day! Before I forget to mention; my time on the water is sprinkled with plenty of wildlife. I am sharing the water with seals (sparse so far, but they will return), bald eagles, ospreys and loons... not to mention eider ducks, herons, terns, etc. I am fortunate to have this restorative time and place at my convenience now. I have to periodically remind myself that I do, indeed, live here and I am not simply visiting. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways |
Steve LachanceRI --> NH --> MI-->MA-->ME Archives
June 2024
Categories
All
|
Proudly powered by Weebly