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Date: August 22, 2021 Body of Water: Casco Bay, Falmouth, Maine Moon Phase: Full Moon Tides: Low Tide at 5:34 AM; Quadrants II and III Boat: None, shore-fishing from landing float With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 4:45 AM - 7:00 AM Conditions: About 65 degrees F; foggy; strange and persistent ESE wind > 10 mph; water clear and about 68 degrees; bioluminescence! Leftover blood-worms in the fridge and the Full Moon of August got me up before 4 AM. I was in place on the dock's float, in the dark, blustery fog by 4:45 and my first drift with a suspended worm was intercepted by the biggest bass of the day. The 25-incher was ablaze with blue bioluminescence as it approached my feet. This was the coolest display of this I've ever seen. I re-created it at will with my rod tip, but my attempt to video this with my phone camera failed. Two of my next three drifts also resulted in bass (about 18 and 21 inches). I was off to a hot start, but then a lull settled in around slack low. Each drift resulted in pulls-down, but instead of bass, these were bait marauders. I lost several worms in a row. A little after 6 AM, a half hour or so into Quadrant III, I got several more bass in quick order, but by 6:20 AM, the action was over. My last four bass had all been teens, including one true micro. Even though the good action had petered out, sporadic pulls-down kept me glued to the dock, waiting for the next real bite! I wish I truly understood the rush a simple, disappearing float still provides to me! What do I have to say about this? Once again, Quadrant II produced better quality while Quadrant III provided more action. I'll have to see if this trend is real or imagined. In the dark and with no lighted floats, and knowing that even the bass seem to be taking the worms lightly, I fished with a single rod, held the entire time. With the reel's bail open and the free-flowing line lightly across my fingertips, I could detect the bass bites and react accordingly, but I was surprised to lose so many baits with no tactile indication that something was going on. Still, I have been able to react to the bass bites more appropriately and more effectively than simply relying on the bait-feeder's noise or a loosely-wrapped bottle toppling over as my strike indicator (like the good old days). With Hurricane/Tropical Storm Henri heading towards a New England landfall, I had some chores to do, including bringing the Portland Pudgy ashore. The weekend's fishing was over, but it had been a pretty good one! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways
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Date: August 21, 2021 Body of Water: Casco Bay, Falmouth, Maine Moon Phase: Full Moon minus one day; waxing gibbous moon Tides: Low Tide at 4:43 AM; High Tide at 10:57 AM Boat: first from shore but then aboard amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 4:45 AM - 2:15 PM Conditions: Cloudy, still and humid at first; offshore fog; a brisk SE wind developed after 9:30 AM, bringing fog back inshore; water temperatures 68 inshore, but 59 - 62 degrees F in Hussey Sound The tide was favorable for fishing from the float; plus, the dense offshore fog would have kept me close, anyway. Since I'd scored the last two dozen blood-worms at The Tackle Shop the previous afternoon, I was okay with the situation. As expected, Quadrant III produced well for me in the dark and gloom. My first drift was eaten by a 25-incher, and I caught a few other bass between 24- and 26-inches in the first hour. By the time I pulled the plug on this phase of the day at 6:15, I'd already landed six bass and missed another decent run from a heavy fish that pulled the hook. I chose to stay close, initially, trolling a tube-and-worm from between 10 and 16 feet of water. I made two unsuccessful passes along the Falmouth shoreline, just west of our landing, before venturing further. I checked the east end of Clapboard and quickly trolled up five macs. I fished these without much good luck at Clapboard and Cow Islands. I did have one nice run just off Cow, and the baits often seemed nervous, but I was having trouble connecting! The fog was now just about gone, and I ventured further into Hussey. First, I checked the west end of College Island for mackerel, and they were there! A half hour later, my well was filled to the brim with bait. Trolling the Sabiki would find the first mackerel in the area; but then dropping down vertically would load up! These fish were in the top 25 feet of water and schooling. I set up on the north side of College. Fortunately, weeds were minimal. The wind and current were at odds, but by slow-trolling I was able to present a couple of frisky baits from close to the rocks to the deeper water a short distance away. The day's first prolonged top-water chase took place near a familiar rock edge with several surface explosions, but still, I couldn't hook up! After another quiet pass or two, and since the fog was now gone, I considered moving to Vaill, Onset or Hope Islands. But at 9:28 AM, a stiff southeasterly wind started, and it quickly brought the fog back in. I was fortunate to have stayed inside. The change in wind, humidity and light conditions got the bass biting, too. Having moved to the south side of College, I scored three very nice bass from 26 to 28 inches in the next hour. In addition, I missed a few and enjoyed several drawn-out surface chases before the bass could choke down the livie. The catching wasn't super fast, but it was turning into an entertaining morning! When this action slowed, I chose to work my way in. First stop; Cow Island's eastern point. The incoming tide was flowing the same direction as the wind, and presenting baits here was pretty easy. I raised several fish from a small "bay" between two rocky points; the wind was pounding in, here. Despite the activity and chases, I still had no firm connection with a bass. I increased my radius with each pass, but couldn't find any eaters. I rode the following seas to Clapboard Island's western point/reef/island complex. Here, I found a concentration of stripers around two familiar waypoints on the rocky edge and descending into deeper water. The bass finally started eating, too, as more top-water explosions and runs became actual connections. I landed four fish here between 24 and 26 inches. This was probably the most intense fishing of the day, certainly in daylight, at 1 PM! Having already secured a successful day, I chose to leave fish to find fish. I finished my fishing day by visiting Clapboard's western end. At first I thought I'd made the wrong call; weeds here were thick and boat control difficult. But, my first pass here coughed up a 23-or so-incher. With Hurricane/Tropical Storm Henri bearing down on New England, I chose to call it a (long) day. A and I pulled amybaby22 from the water, to hunker the storm down on (safer) land. What do I have to say about this? First, and fortunately, Henri turned out to be a local dud. He followed an unpredictable path and spared my area. Still, pulling the boats was the right call, and this also enabled me to tackle some maintenance and clean-up issues before they splash again to take on the rest of the season. Second, live-lining is not the most efficient manner for piling up numbers, but I am catching a higher caliber of bass with the mackerel. Plus, I do believe that this is the most likely way for me to encounter a large day-feeder. I miss throwing poppers and flukes (and I should probably make some follow-up casts to visible fish that miss my baits), but, at least for now, I will wait for the mackerel to leave before I convert back to my old lure-tossing ways. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: August 16, 2021 Body of Water: Casco Bay, Falmouth, Maine Moon Phase: Full Moon minus six days; waning gibbous moon Tides: High Tide at 6:04 PM Boat: amybaby22 With: A Target: Striped Bass Time: 5:30 PM - 7:45 PM Conditions: Clear and about 75 degrees F with a persistent southerly sea breeze; water temperatures 61 - 63 in Hussey, but up to 68 inshore What a beautiful day! Why not squeeze in a post-work floating picnic and fishing session? My plan was to make bait, quick, and use whatever time I had left to entice a couple of bass to eat for A. With the southerly head-wind, it was a longer than expected haul to Onset Island. With high slack tide, I was hoping the structure here would keep some bait in the area, and I had two rods newly rigged with heavier fluoro leaders and poppers in case the blues showed themselves again. No life was evident, and there was little water movement, but somehow I stopped right on top of the mackerel. These were biting eagerly in the top 25 feet of water, and by 6:15 I had a dozen in the well and a couple behind the boat off College Island. The macs were nervous, but we had only a single run on the rocky structure of the island's northwest corner. A smallish bass ate my mackerel on top. When I tightened up, the bait pulled out; ten seconds later a bass engulfed my bait again. I missed this one, too, and retrieved my bait to find the hook just barely buried in the bait. Oh well, perfection be damned! We spent a few more minutes here, but we were battling weeds and nothing else showed, so we moved to the south shore of Cow Island. Here, the weeds were even worse, and nothing happened in our single pass. We had a much smoother ride home. I unloaded the boat at the float and reached my mooring just as the Portland Yacht Club's cannon announced sunset. I'd forgotten to eat, but it had been a pleasant evening! What do I have to say about this? Maine's summer nights are dwindling in duration and number. I'm glad we tried to take advantage of this beauty! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: August 15, 2021 Body of Water: Casco Bay, Falmouth, Maine Moon Phase: New Moon plus seven days; waxing (first) quarter moon Tides: High Tide at 4:41 AM; Low Tide at 10:47 AM Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 6:45 AM - 2:30 PM Conditions: Clear and bright; about 60 - 75 degrees F; northerly wind over 10 mph; water temperatures generally 63 - 65 degrees in Hussey and beyond, but up to 67 inshore It was immediately obvious that conditions had changed. In addition to the autumnal feel of the morning, several schools of fin-fish were dimpling the surface, and a seal patrolled just offshore. I made a few casts to the balls of potential bait, but they showed no interest. I think they were happy pogies, and since these are typically too big for me to live-line effectively, I set off for Hussey Sound to try to find some mackerel. I made several passes with the outgoing tide in a few different spots, all without any luck. I decided to check the "mini-rip" east of College Island for any willing bass. I scored a 24-incher on the Al Gag 4-inch swim-bait (whew!), the 100th striper to come aboard amybaby22 in 2021. But that seemed to be the only willing striper here, and so I relocated to the south side of Cow Island. The bottom was carpeted in fuzzy bait, and a few marks indicated the presence of bigger fish. I dropped a Hogy epoxy jig and danced it near bottom from 15 to about 30 feet. I snagged a sand eel (hence the fuzz), and this guy was a perfect match for my jig. When nothing reacted, I casted the area with a plastic sand eel (Joe Baggs?) and a bucktail jig, but I couldn't convince anything to eat. I decided to try making bait again, but this time near the Pumpkin and the nearby channel markers. Again, things were slow, although I thought I felt a few taps indicating contact. I relocated to the tip of Overset Island, where I thought the combination of outgoing current and deeper water might hold some bait. Here, I knew I was getting hit, and I enticed an entire school of macs to the surface. I could see them hitting my sabiki, I could feel the taps, and I still wasn't hooking anything! Lesson No. 1 for the day; in such a situation, check your hooks. After weeks of use, every single hook on the string had corroded and broken off! A quick sabiki replacement had me in the game, and a half-hour later I had more than a dozen baits in the live-well. I set up for stripers with a pair of baits right along Overset. While I had some very nervous baits, I had no takes. When I turned around to re-trace my path, I first noticed the whirling birds, and then the surface frenzy. An all-out blitz was taking place a few hundred years away, and just about where I'd made bait. I quickly retrieved and stowed my baits, grabbed a popper rod and motored over. The commotion was largely dissipated by the time I drifted in, but my first cast with the Smack-it Jr. popper was crushed; and I was immediately cut off. I grabbed the rod with the sand-eel jig and fired that out. That too was sliced off. Two casts, two baits lost. Lesson No. 2; when the gator bluefish arrive, be prepared with heavier leaders or with longer baits tied on! I waited for a few minutes for the school to resurface, but all remained quiet. I returned to Overset, with no luck, and as I started to make my move to Vaill Island, I saw another group of active birds further offshore. These seemed to be working over porpoises, though, and my popper went untouched here. I set up on the east end of Vaill for a pass along its southern face. Conditions were at just about slack low tide, now. As I approached the island's western tip, my "short" mackerel rod went off; the fat 26-incher really fought for the rocks, but yielded to consistent pressure. With my second photographed striper of the day, my Striper Cup "limit" now seemed within reach. After another unproductive pass, I returned to Cow Island. The northerly wind now was honking, and Hussey was quite rough. I was glad to set up in the lee of Cow. My first pass over Waypoint 170 produced a strike on the "long" rod; a nice 28-inch "keeper" completed my limit! When a subsequent pass went untouched, I extended my troll all the way around the island's eastern point with no luck. I relocated to Clapboard's eastern point. A spunky 22-incher ate here as I deployed a short bait; and then I relocated to Clapboard's west end. The wind was pounding into this area, and boat control was difficult. My single run yielded another strong 28-inch "keeper" from a familiar waypoint marking a perpendicular, rocky spike off the island's ledgy point. Pretty much out of live bait at this point, I returned to my mooring. It had been something of a grind, but I'd caught some really nice fish. Plus, I'd benefited from Lesson No. 3; try to relax and enjoy myself, and don't take any set-backs so personally! What do I have to say about this? All valuable lessons, and all earned on a beautiful day. Had I landed the bluefish, had the blitz been bass, or had I found another, it would have been a perfect day! This was the most active (albeit brief) blitz I've ever witnessed in Maine, and I hope it's a harbinger for what fall might bring. I believe I only had five bass bites all day, and I converted each one. I made the most of my chances. I've been positioning my "short" mackerel about 25 - 30 feet off the rod tip, while my "long" bait is swimming about 50 feet off that rod tip. Tangles have been minimal, even though each mac seems to have its own ideas about where it should be swimming! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: August 8, 2021 Body of Water: Casco Bay, Falmouth, Maine Moon Phase: New Moon Tides: Low Tide at 5:49 AM Boat: None, shore fishing from landing float With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 4:45 AM - 7:00 AM Conditions: Hazy, calm and about 70 degrees F; super clear water; water temperatures about 68; Quadrants II and III My first drift with a blood-worm suspended beneath a slip float went untouched (at least I think so; it was dark!), but the next four were intercepted by feisty stripers. These ranged from 25 to over 29 inches, and included a second "keeper" over 28, to boot! All pulled drag like mad and came to hand stubbornly. I'd had another full day before sunrise! My planned presence during Quadrant II (and segueing into Quadrant III), at the cost of just a little sleep, had paid off handsomely. The bite slowed, but still persisted through slack low. By 6 AM, I'd scored seven stripers, with only one below 25 inches. When the current switched to a generally unfavorable westerly direction, I thought perhaps my luck had turned, too. But, the bites continued, although these fish were smaller; I caught five more, averaging perhaps 20 inches with a single micro of about 16. Still, these kept me interested, and while these fish didn't challenge my tackle like the earlier ones, they were still a lot of fun! What do I have to say about this? Blood-worms are somehow even more repulsive than sand-worms. But after a few weeks of using them, I am now convinced that they are equal-if-not-superior to sand-worms for my style of fishing. Even though they are more expensive per worm, I also believe they are cost effective. They keep themselves together, stay on the hook, and are easier to maintain for a longer period of time in the fridge. This was another throw-back session. I've not touched double digits from the landing float in quite a while. Plus, the average fish was impressive for recent years, and this was one of the few times I've ever caught multiple 28-inch (+) fish from this shore-based spot in a single session. I couldn't have predicted the specifics, but I really did think that conditions had lined up nicely for this session. I'm glad I was there! And, it kick-started what turned out to be a very nice, enjoyable and productive day with A. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: August 7, 2021 Body of Water: Casco Bay, Falmouth, Maine Moon Phase: New Moon minus one day; waning crescent moon Tides: Low Tide at 5:10 AM; High Tide at 11:23 AM Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone, but joined by A near end Target: Striped Bass Time: 7:45 AM - 2 PM Conditions: Hazy and about 75 - 80 degrees F; light winds but southerly swell; water temperatures 58 - 60 in Hussey and beyond, but up to 67 inshore The tide was coming in, and I ran straight to Hussey Sound and made short work of making bait. A couple dozen mackerel and a pollock were in the well by 8:30. Moving water near College Island was the ticket, and they came in bunches instead of singles. Trolling would locate the first, but jigging would take advantage of their presence. It was probably the easiest bait-making effort of the season, and it reminded me of years (decades?) past. I had high hopes of taking advantage of the full well. My first stop was the southern face of Cow Island. I thought to try my new spot (Waypoint 170 and vicinity) at a different tide stage. It was almost automatic; I saw a pile of fish in 24 feet of water, and within seconds my short-lined mackerel was eaten. A beautiful 26-inch striper came aboard; and it was still before 9 AM! This area produced three more fish and another run in the next 45 minutes. The stripers ranged from 25 to 27 inches. Interestingly, one came from over 60 feet of water. I expanded my range with each pass, but Waypoint 170 seems to be The Spot. And then the day unravelled. I left these fish to find more. Despite promising marks, nothing bit at Crow Island. I lost a half hour to a phone call. Vaill was being pounded by a sizable ocean swell. There was lots of whitewash, but I was fearful of getting too close, and my baits went untouched. I ran in to pick up A, and when we positioned ourselves at Clapboard, I found out my live well pump was "dead", as were all my baits. A and I resorted to chunking, but the wind was at odds with current and I never found my groove. There were many promising marks, and we were pulling stripers up and off the bottom. A briefly connected on a chunk under a float, but that fish came off. I never got touched. We tried one more location, but I wasn't enjoying myself anymore, and it showed. We motored in, prematurely, a really good day soured with a bit of bad aftertaste. What do I have to say about this? It's really difficult to sustain a good thing and put a full day together! The live well was an unfortunately-timed temporary setback (all functionality has been restored and reinforced), but I should have handled this with more grace. I will repeat, though, this has been a bitch of a week! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: August 6, 2021 Body of Water: Casco Bay, Falmouth, Maine Moon Phase: New Moon minus two days; waning crescent moon Tides: Low Tide at 4:30 PM Boat: amybaby22 With: A Target: Striped Bass Time: 5 PM - 7 PM Conditions: Beautifully clear and about 75 degrees F; westerly winds over 10 mph; water temperatures had shot up to 67 - 71degrees; rising tide through-out It had been a bitch of a week, and an even tougher day. But the conditions were perfect to share a picnic on the water, and with a new supply of bloodworms, why not troll a tube while doing so? I ran upwind to The Brothers. We trolled as slowly as possible, in depths ranging from 10 to over 20 feet of water, all the way to our landing with only a single hit. And that one (violent and just off Prince Point in about 12 feet of water) almost immediately came off. If there were a silver lining to this skunk, it was this; I continued our troll past our landing float and (with intent!) snagged the line to the rod and reel I'd lost earlier in the day! The rod was fine; the reel might need a little work; the line was a total loss; and the hooked striper had worn through the leader, and is hopefully fine. What do I have to say about this? Fishing was secondary to pleasure this evening, or perhaps even tertiary to pleasure and salvage. So, it's okay that the catch rate was null. Still, I'd like to master the tube-and-worm, and I am still looking for a productive-yet-low-key technique to implement when A's aboard. I'll keep looking... Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: August 6, 2021 Body of Water: Casco Bay, Falmouth, Maine Moon Phase: New Moon minus two days; waning crescent moon Tides: Low Tide at 8:30 PM Boat: None, shore fishing from landing float With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 4:45 AM - 6:00 AM Conditions: Clear and about 60 degrees F, very calm; water temperatures unknown (?!?!?); Quadrant III I called it; I knew this was going to be a productive tide. My blood-worm touched down on my first cast, and almost immediately, the float went down. I came tight to a larger-than-average striper. I fought it for several minutes; it alternated strong runs with dives toward the float's anchor lines and shoreline rocks. Unfortunately, the hook popped out. Oh well, this perfect morning would have some imperfections. The next 15 minutes or so featured more fast action, with three bass landed between 20 and 27 inches. I was already concerned about my bait supply! Things slowed down enough for me to deploy a second float. I caught another small bass (maybe 18 inches long). As I was re-baiting, and as I watched in mild horror, my bait-runner rig got pulled off the float. It was just out of reach and tantalizingly close; but I was unable to snag or retrieve. The reel was newish, but the rod was a fine G. Loomis blank around which I had built my first steelhead rod in 1995. It had certainly served me well, and I'd gotten my value out of it; I will miss it! I finished the day with another 20-inch bass at 5:27; the sun had not yet risen! My last two worms were stolen by thieves (mackerel?), and I spent my last 15 minutes glumly and ineffectively dredging for my rod. What do I have to say about this? After a really stressful week, I was a bit off. I didn't make the most of my chances, and I wouldn't be surprised if a small, unnoticed issue (such as a loop of line over my rod tip) contributed to the loss of the rod. Still, this session was beautiful in its own right, and was certainly the best part of my day (well, at least until 5 PM). And, amazingly enough, I retrieved my rod and reel at about 7 PM! A slowly and intentionally trolled tube found the line (the reel was still in bait-feeding mode). To my relief, the bass had worn through the leader and so should be fine. The line was a total loss and I have concerns about the reel, but the rod seems as good as new; at least in the sense of a heavily used piece of outdoor equipment that is over a quarter century old. I'll get it back in service soon! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: August 1, 2021 Body of Water: Casco Bay, Falmouth, Maine Moon Phase: New Moon minus seven days; waning quarter moon Tides: High Tide at 6:14 AM; Low Tide at 12:13 PM Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 7 AM - 2:15 PM Conditions: Variously clear to hazy clouds; about 65 - 75 degrees F, but with increasing southerly winds; water temperatures 60 - 62 Knowing the float conditions would not be tidally favorable, and needing to sleep, my only plan was to skip the early, land-based fishing and to arrive on my boat when I was good and ready. Usually, I have a more specific plan than that. Fortunately, my planning experience is always with me, even when I don't have a fully formulated plan for the day. Conditions were bright, still and lifeless as I motored out of the anchorage. After a quick, unsuccessful troll through my usual haunts around Clapboard Island in search of mackerel, I ran toward Hussey Sound to look. A seal and a surface dimple indicated a hint at a chance to find some, but that quick effort was also fruitless. I continued my run to the north face of Cow Island. Here, the current was flowing pretty nicely along the shoreline in an eastward direction. I casted the shoreline, first with a popper, and then with a mackerel-imitating Rapala X-Rap. I rounded the eastern point of Cow without a sign of a fish, so I ran to College Island. I was going to do more of the same, if only to have any fish simply reveal themselves, but when I noticed a tiny rip forming with the outgoing tide at the island's eastern end, I decided that such a feature would certainly hold fish on Cape Cod! I picked up my light swim-bait setup and connected with a 22-inch striper on my first cast! Whew, I was finally off the skunk, even if this smallish bass might have been a humble, dribbling single. I was back in the game! Unfortunately, the current had swept me through the rip and holding water behind it. It took a few casts and a repositioning from the opposite side to connect with my next fish; this fat 25-incher fought awesomely well on my light tackle and in the current. Plus, this fish probably revealed the hidden juice on this new-to-me feature. This spot wasn't part of my plan, but will certainly inform future planning sessions. After a few more fruitless drifts, a search for other mini-rips, and some casting with a jig-rigged Hogy, I decided to look for some mackerel just off College Island with the dropping tide. In about half an hour, I had nine or ten in the live well. I took off for Vaill Island. Based on my limited bait supply, I again chose to slow-troll my mackerel in lieu of casting to the shoreline rocks. Weeds were abundant and the water here was super clear; my first pass revealed nothing. I extended my second pass to the northwestern portion of the island, and my mackerel was ambushed right in the shadow of a boulder. A nice 25-incher completed my Striper Cup fulfillment requirements. I loitered here perhaps too long, fishing a nearly complete circuit of the island without another touch. Now at just about slack low tide, I decided to check out a new-to-me stretch of shoreline along the southern face of Cow Island. I figured the precipitous drop into deep water, combined with the increasing wind-driven wave action pounding into the island could make for some decent opportunities. I was right! As I approached, I marked a pile of active, mid-water fish over modestly deep water. Nearer to shore, these marks were closer to bottom; but I called my first strike here based on what I saw, and was especially pleased to learn that it was a legal "keeper" at a fraction over 28 inches long. This was a nice introductory fish for my new spot! It was, of course, carefully released. Several subsequent drifts through here revealed other fish and several takes and top-water explosions. Unfortunately, I didn't hook up on any. Still marking bottom-oriented fish, I even gave up on the mackerel and switched to a tube-and-worm for a single pass, without success. Now at Cow's southeastern tip, I switched back to my last two mackerel. Both were eaten, almost simultaneously just off the northeastern corner of the island. The hook turned into one bait, but the other connected with another 25-inch bass. I was out of fin-fish bait, but not wanting to leave these obviously active fish, I turned to the tube again; but once again, for naught. What do I have to say about this? I have adopted General Eisenhower's wisdom with respect to plans, planning, and their relative value. While a specific plan can always prove to be worthless, worthy only of abandonment, the process of planning is indispensable and is the foundation for any success. A day such as this illustrates the idea; changes in gear were based on utilizing my collected experience and abandoning courses of action that weren't working. Of course, I think I need to get better at recognizing when to pull the trigger on a change in plan, and I need to more efficiently recognize new opportunities. But I think I'm doing okay in my inaugural season "at home" in Maine. My radius of experience isn't expanding as rapidly as I had planned, but I am adjusting as I go and making the most of situations (new and old!) as they present themselves. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: July 31, 2021 Body of Water: Casco Bay, Falmouth, Maine Moon Phase: Quarter Moon; waning gibbous Tides: Low Tide at 11:24 AM Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone at first and then with A Target: Striped Bass Time: 11 AM - 2 PM (approximately) Conditions: Clear; northerly winds clearing out the humidity; about 70 degrees F; water temperatures around 62 Cold frontal conditions, weak tides, clear skies, colder water and my midday start all conspired against me. I simply struck out while trolling a worm-tipped tube around the Falmouth shoreline and Clapboard Island. I similarly found the mackerel to be completely AWOL. I cut my losses, prepared for the following day, went home, and took a nap! What do I have to say about this? Successive skunks; not my ideal ending for July. Still, it was a full, beautiful day (visits, food, time with A) on top of an overflowing week. I'm not proud of this effort, but at least I tried! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways |
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