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Date: July 25, 2020 Body of Water: Casco Bay - Falmouth Foreside, Maine Moon Phase: Waxing gibbous; New plus five days Tides: Just about Low at first, rising throughout and ending at just about High Tide Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 10 AM - 3:30 PM Conditions: Sunny and hot (upper 80's) with faint haze and mild southerly breeze. Water ranged from 63 degrees F (incoming tide at Portland Head Light) to 66 degrees (Hussey Sound) to 70 degrees at The Landing in the Bay's interior With the truck full of gas, I figured I could pull off a properly Social-Distanced day trip to my skiff on Casco Bay. I launched at the public ramp at Portland's Eastern Promenade at just about dead low tide; without any problems. Despite the day's promise for heat, there was a parking spot waiting for me, too! With the heat, sunshine, low tide, warm water and late start all conspiring against my success, I decide to simply persevere, explore and take what the day gave me. It gave me plenty! I poked around Pomroy Rock. This appeared to be an extreme, negative tide, and I could see how this humble rock could continue to produce a surprising number of fish. It's a bit more complex than I'd realized, and it drops off into pretty deep water to the east. I tried a few casts with a new Hogy Dog Walker before moving on to new water. Next up was Fort Gorges; I'd always avoided this area due to underwater hazards. Low tide and good GPS mapping revealed plenty of good-looking water, but I chose to keep moving. The western side of Little Diamond Island revealed some other potentially good water. I also spotted the first striper of the day, a very nice fish that chased, but did not eat, a new Hogy Slider Plug in Bunker coloration. By now, the incoming tide was starting to flow, and so I headed out to the channel markers by Portland Head Lighthouse. Trolling for mackerel with the Sabiki, I almost instantly hooked up by Bell Buoy 12. A single, snack-sized mackerel entered my livewell. A second quickly joined it, but that was it for a bit. I chose to re-locate to Hussey Sound for a potentially better mackerel bite. Given the flat seas, I took the Outside Route along Cushing and Peaks Islands. This was shorter, saved time, and let me come across a pod of porpoises! I quickly trolled up another pair of macks, but the promising start was tempered by my inability to put them into the livewell. Both flipped off before I could capture them. It took another half hour to get a third mack into the well; this was not good! Just before 1 PM at about mid-tide, I made my first cast of the day with a mackerel. I had selected a white-washed hole adjacent to the bank of Vaill Island. The tinker was seemingly instantly intercepted by a bass; a fine 26-incher! I ran through my remaining two mackerel pretty quickly; each got clobbered, visibly chased and harassed until dead, but neither was eaten, and I didn't have a chance to hook up with any of these bass. I even chunked my last, dead victim, but this didn't elicit any positive behavior. I ran back to Hussey and got a couple of additional baits; I had similar results along the steep rocky banks of Scussett Island. I tried a popper along this scoured shore, but no bass responded to my artificial offerings. With time starting to run out, I secured my final mack of the day and went to Prince Point off Waite's Landing, hoping to have a chance to repeat the high-tide success I'd had during my last visit. I set this rather large mackerel under a float to keep it out of the grass in about 16 feet of water, and let it swim about 25 yards behind the boat as I drifted toward the underwater bar. I casted poppers and soft stick-baits from the bow, while the active mackerel trailed behind, the bait-runner combo set in a rod holder. Soon enough, line was audibly racing off the reel. I wound down while the rod was still in the holder, and the rod loaded nicely as the circle hook found its spot! My biggest striper of the year (so far) at 27 inches fought well! Nothing else responded to my lures, and since I was out of baitfish, I tried another drift with a floating sandworm. But nothing developed and at 3:30 PM, hot and tired, I was getting off the water. What do I have to say about this? I didn't capture my Striper Cup Limit of three photographed stripers, but I still had a (better than) good day! Had I been able to make more bait, I suspect I could have been on biting bass all day. I explored a couple of new, potentially good spots and re-visited a couple of faithful, old friends. I moved a fish on a new lure, and didn't have any problems. It really was a better-than-good day! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways
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Date: July 17, 2020 Body of Water: Crane Beach Surf - Ipswich, Massachusetts Moon Phase: Waning gibbous; New - three days Tides: Low at about 4 PM; just about mid and falling; slack low; and then starting to rise Boat: None, surf fishing With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 2:30 PM - 5 PM Conditions: Post-rain; cloudy but clearing; generally pretty calm; water clear and reportedly 62 degrees F In my short time in Massachusetts, I have been both pleased and impressed with the state park system and public access to resources in general. I was doubly delighted to find that there's a private organization with similar goals, and it was simultaneously natural and my pleasure to join The Trustees; check them out at www.thetrustees.org . Our first visit to a Trustees property was to Crane Beach in Ipswich on a weekday afternoon. It was nice to get away from work for a few hours, and the controlled access to this beach made the visit both "safe" and pleasant. Once A and M were comfortably set up on the beach, I walked down the beach to the left with a backpack full of surf tackle and a single spinning rod in hand. I'd never fished here, but had surprising success from the shore of Plum Island (directly across the mouth of the Parker River; see the October 7, 2018 post at: www.numenonfunfishing.com/numenonfunfishing/archives/10-2018) in my other fishing visit to the area. With the mid-day, mid-tide conditions I didn't expect much, but the water did look promising; and the gray skies and cool waters offered the chance at finding some active fish. My first location was a sandy point guarding the southern edge of the outlet's mouth. Deep water swept near shore here. The outflow from the estuary collided with the wind-driven current along the beach. But there were no signs of birds, bait or fish, and nothing responded to any of my presentations. These included pencil poppers, diamond jigs, swim-baits, and bucktail jigs. This was a good-looking spot, but I didn't want to burn up all my time in an empirically unproductive location. Fifteen minutes later I was set up amongst a rock pile to the northwest. A mild current rip was setting up, and a few boats worked the area, too. I was a little concerned about lack of depth (at least for the nearest half of my casting range.) I started here with a small swim-bait, just looking for a bite, but quickly switched to a Hogy popper to cover water and try to expose any fish activity. On my second or third cast with the popper, a small striper intercepted my bait near the transition from the deeper water to the rock field. It wasn't much of a striper; just 15 or 16 inches, but it was something! And, it brought in all its schoolmates as I reeled it in; it was accompanied by a half dozen other excited bass up to the mid-20-inch range. My GoPro was surprisingly dead, and the bass became unhooked while I searched for my camera; it was gone before I could capture a photo. There were fish to be caught! But the popper revealed no others in the next half hour, and when the tide slackened and the skies brightened, I switch to scratching the bottom with sand eel imitations. This produced nothing. Now with the tide beginning to rise, I returned to the waters surrounding the sandy point where I'd started. A couple of fisherman were fishing the point with bait on the bottom to no avail. I explored the adjacent waters with a Hogy epoxy jig in olive, but by 5 PM, I'd joined the girls on the beach to simply relax and watch the beach for signs of life. What do I have to say about this? Although the fishing was not great, it's always gratifying to get hit in a new location. And it was very cool to watch the school of stripers chasing my hooked fish in excitement. But the real value of the day was getting away from work and enjoying some actual fun with family. This has been a bit lacking in this Season of COVID. We were all happy to share this new place on our own terms, and we enjoyed some sightseeing in the area as well as an excellent take-out meal from a small restaurant in Essex. We returned home, tired and satisfied. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: July 5, 2020 Body of Water: Casco Bay - Falmouth, Maine Moon Phase: Full Moon Tides: Dead low at first, through and past high tide Boat: Landing float and then amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 4 AM - 7 AM; 10 AM - 1 PM Conditions: Foggy and misty! Cooling water temperatures down to 62-63 degrees F. Persistent southerly wind and the fog never relented. With another chance at a favorable tide, I was back on the landing, in the dark, at 4 AM. On the first drift, my lighted float slowly sank beneath the water's surface, extinguishing its red glow. Another early-bird striper in the 20-inch range had gotten the sand-worm. Soon thereafter, while still in full darkness, a very scrappy 22-inch bass inhaled my Kastmaster spoon. By the time I landed this fish, retied the leader out of an abundance of caution, and made my next cast, the light level had increased and the bite had shut down. Another hour or so later, a very small micro-bass (perhaps my smallest ever Maine striper) hit this same lure; once again, on the fall. Near the end of my session, at around 7 AM, with some current finally stirring after slack low, a long cast with the Kastmaster was violently intercepted at the surface. The fish immediately leapt clear of the water's surface; this was no striper. As it came closer, I noticed spots, and I was dumbfounded by the Salmo I had captured. It's intersection here, with me, was truly unlikely. Nevertheless, I enjoyed this spicy encounter, and the brown trout (or Atlantic salmon) was carefully released to a very uncertain future. Plans for the day became uncertain because of the dense fog. I still had sand-worms and some time, so after breakfast, coffee and gas, I hit the water in amybaby22. I plied some rocky shorelines near the landing with the coming tide, but the extreme tide heights and southerly wind made this entire area unfishable with floating weed. I relocated to Waites' Point. Throwing poppers and a white, 7-inch Hogy Original soft bait from the bow, I allowed a suspended sand-worm to trail the boat while I drifted around and across the reef complex. In addition to visible objects, kelp and color changes, I targeted any obvious current seams. I missed my first chance on the worm, but I now noticed the micro-rip in which my float had been presented. On the next cast with the worm, I watched the float go down before the fish took a searing run towards deeper water. Soon, I was pleased to land a fine 23-inch striped bass. That seam proved ephemeral (as so many of the Bay's opportunities are), and so I moved on to the next rocky point. Here, I received my first contact with the Hogy Original; but I failed to hook up. Still, that fish and the attraction of the cover and structure kept me in the area, and perhaps 10 minutes later, the float-with-worm jumped to life. After an excellent fight (during which I anticipated my first landed "keeper" in a couple of years), another surprisingly short fish (24 inches, but still the trip's largest) came aboard. That proved to be the last one, although I missed a showy strike on the popper presented over nearby open water. There were a lot of chores to be done; I was done fishing for the weekend. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: July 4, 2020 Body of Water: Casco Bay - Falmouth, Maine Moon Phase: Full Moon minus 1 day Tides: Dead low at first, through and past high tide; low slack to start of incoming tide in evening Boat: Landing float first, but then amybaby22 With: Alone, although joined by A in the evening Target: Striped Bass Time: 4 AM - 7:30 AM; 10 AM - Noon; 5 PM - 7 PM Conditions: Cloudy start, quick clearing, but thick, persistent fog settling in by 8 AM. Air and water temps about 65 degrees F. Building southerly wind and cooler off-shore water maintained foggy conditions. Once again for these reports, please consider an approximated 12-hour Tide Clock, with each High Tide at 12 o'clock, and each Low Tide at 6 o'clock. This will divide each complete cycle into four quadrants, with mid-tides at 3 and 9 o'clock. Let's call Quadrant I the period from High Tide to mid-ebbing tide; Quadrant II from mid-ebbing tide to Low Tide; Quadrant III as predicted Low Tide to mid-flooding tide; and Quadrant IV from mid-flood to predicted High Tide. From past experience, I know that the best fishing at my spot on the landing is during the lower portions of the tide, i.e., in Quadrants II and III, with the very best action usually occurring about 1.5 hours before or after the predicted Low Tide. Quadrant IV is better than Quadrant I; but a worthwhile fish can happen at any time or tide, especially if bait (usually in the form of mackerel) is available for the fish. And, every spot fishes differently; so now, with a boat to fish from, I can try to go find some fish under any set of prevailing conditions! With a 5 AM low tide, my morning session from the landing was prime; I'd be fishing the best periods of Quadrants II and III. Things got off to a rousing, quick start with two 20-inch class stripers in the first 15 minutes. These both ate sand-worms suspended beneath my lighted slip-float. But after the initial action, things slowed. As I kept an eye on my float, I casted a variety of baits. A charteuse-and-silver Kastmaster produced a couple of hits, a follow or two, and a solid 21-inch striper. Notably, all the touches occurred on a slow retrieve and specifically on the fall. Between 6:45 and 7 AM, I enjoyed another flurry of action on sand-worms. While not the kind of action or size of fish I'd dreamt about, I now had five stripers before most folks were awake; and I still had the day and many opportunities in front of me! After some breakfast and more coffee, it was time to launch the boat at Falmouth Town Landing. A drove amybaby22 to the landing while I returned with the empty trailer and brought my gear down to the float. After spending a little time acquainting myself with the now-installed ten-inch Garmin ECHO Ultramap HD (my sweat equity from the day before should pay off for quite some time), I hit the water for some high-tide bass. Foggy conditions kept me close, and after a half hour or so poking around flooded grass near Mussel Cove with no success, I headed out to the reef that extends from Waites' Landing. The edges of the kelp-covered reef had produced a few stripers for me in 2019; I thought I should at least check it out. The extreme full-moon high tide and persistent southerly wind had the reef completely submerged. I tried to position my Hogy popper near any color changes or visible objects. In the thickest part of the kelp jungle, a 22-inch striper annihilated the scurrying popper in one of my best-ever visual strikes. This fish thought a lot of itself, too, as it pulled much harder than its length warranted. Shortly thereafter, I moved over to the fishy-looking reef complex at the west end of Clapboard Island. One bass followed but could not quite commit to the popper, but otherwise nothing reacted to my casts. The fog persisted, but A and I wanted to try making bait (mackerel) in Hussey Sound, and then live-line the baits to bass along rocky shorelines. Our timing was off, and I knew it. Our arrival at Hussey was just after slack low tide, and there was little water movement; the reliable mackerel fishing here coincides with moving water. Nevertheless, we trolled a spoon-weighted sabiki rig at about 3 mph. It took almost an hour to get the first bite, and we collected three macks for bait before they inexplicably disappeared again. We moved to the familiar shoreline of Vaill Island, where one of the macks got hit; but the circle hook turned into the bait's head, and I pulled the bait out of the bass' gullet without the hook touching flesh. Oh well, we had our chance; but now it was time to beat the increasing fog and darkness back to the landing! What do I have to say about this? This was a full and pleasant day. The amybaby22 provides a mobile but stable platform to new places, techniques and opportunities, and I intend to investigate these while refining the techniques with which I've already enjoyed some success. The day went too quickly, and the fishing was never consistently great; but it's still a building block for future success and enjoyment. I especially appreciated the quiet solitude I shared with A on Hussey Sound. While there wasn't much going on, we still caught a glimpse of some porpoises, enjoyed the bell buoy, got along well and relaxed, together! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways |
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