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Date: August 5, 2023 Body of Water: Casco Bay - Maine Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 7:30 AM - 2:45 PM Moon Phase: Full plus four days, waning gibbous moon Tide: Low tide at 8:30 AM, High tide at 2:48 PM Conditions: Thin fog giving way to clear and bright conditions with light winds; 60 - 75 degrees. Water temperatures have dropped considerably, 58 - 64 degrees (+/-) depending on tide and location. Expecting a tough bait condition, I decided to just keep moving until I found some. I also had the fly rod available, to catch the early incoming flood over shallow water, if I hadn't yet found anything more favorable. I ended up covering more Bay than ever, extending from French Island out to Red Marker 2 outside Hussey Sound before finding my bites along familiar Peaks Island during the last half of the incoming tide. After unsuccessful bait stops at Clapboard Island (E), Basket Island markers and the channel between Chebeague and Littlejohn Islands, I swung into the shallows between Littlejohn and the mainland to scout for fly-fishing targets. I got a solid and productive hour of casting practice in while I slowly searched shallow edges for signs of fish. I saw none, but a fellow fly-caster in a kayak hooked up in slightly deeper water, so I guess a few fish were available. Nevertheless, this approach is inefficient in my boat (I don't have the vantage point to see into the water very well), and I will need to either concentrate my fly-fishing on blitzes or structure; or simply accept the peaceful process itself as opposed to pushing myself to produce fish. By 10 AM, I was back on the prowl and heading east. I looked for bait at Green Island Ledge, both ends of the Green Islands and the east end of French Island without any sign of bait. Pushing further into the bay was not working, so I reversed course and headed back towards the mouth of Hussey Sound, but taking an "outer" route via all new-to-me water. On the "out" side of Chebeague, I checked every marker for bait as I now headed west. Threading the needle between Hope and Cliff Islands, and still without any sign of fin-fish bait, I decided to return to my pollock-producing navigation aid, Red No. 2 outside of Hussey. That turned out to be the correct call for the day. I arrived just as the tidal current really started ripping. Having already marked my bottom-oriented targets on the sonar, I deployed Spot-Lock and dropped a 3-ounce jig and Sabiki. The bite was fast and productive; and included several biting mackerel as well as the expected pollock. Soon enough, I had 15 or so pollock and eight or nine macks in the well, and I was off to Peak Island, where I could see some attractive whitewash along the rocks. I ended up using only the mackerel and releasing the pollock. The macks alone produced enough action for me, including stripers of 25, 28 and 31 inches, as well as a smallish bluefish of two or three pounds. I missed several opportunities, too, from simple pulled hooks to baits being "popped" off the hook by sudden strikes. All of this was along my familiar stretch of Peaks Island, and if there was a theme to any success, it was keeping the live baits as close to rocks, moving water and foam as possible. I finished my day with a pass along Crow and Cow Islands as the tide peaked, but found no active fish at either location. What do I have to say about this? It was a good day to choose such explorations. It was nice and calm, and the morning's thin, early fog made my fly-fishing option theoretically viable. There is so much good-looking water to explore! Points on both Green Islands and French Island looked worthy. The boulder field along Littlejohn looks like it might hold promise at higher tides, I found several promising points along Chebegue, and the ocean swell revealed lots of whitewashed stretches along Long Island. Spot-lock for the win, again! I made quick work of making bait in the heavy tidal current, all while safely and comfortably avoiding the red can! Working the boat so close to the rocks, especially in any wash, is intense and draining. But I still get a thrill out of every chase and strike! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways
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Date: July 3 - 8, 2023 Body of Water: Casco Bay - Maine Boat: amybaby22 We all took the holiday week off. Extended family was in town, my girls were sleeping in their rooms upstairs, and I approached the fishing with a low-key attitude. I still got out there plenty, I just wasn't going out of my way or suffering too much to make it happen. The week started and continued with a dismal, wet weather pattern, but this broke on the evening of Tuesday, July 5. Back on the water on July 6, I was greeted by clear skies, bright sunshine and heat! It was a perfect day to introduce the next generation to mackerel, noting every seal and bird along the way. If anything, the fishing improved with the weather, and I scored a Personal Best as well as a Top 3 fish on consecutive days. Even though I spent the week without electronics, I was generally on fish, and even introduced and expanded my "spot-lock chunking" program. Session 1: July 3, 2023 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 11 AM - 3:30 PM Moon Phase: Full plus one day Tide: Lows at about 5:30 AM and PM, High Tide at about 11:45 AM Conditions: Gray and rainy with light, winds from the south; clearing to partially sunny; 60 - 70 degrees. Water temperatures "low 60s". Still without electronics, I fished blindly off Clapboard and captured nine mackerel in about 45 minutes. All were scattered singles. With no fog, I decided to try Cow Island at the top of the tide, only to find a boat already working that water. I diverted to Crow, and that turned out to be okay. Drifting the north face with the current of the outgoing tide, I dropped the first bass that ate confidently just off a rocky point. It seemed like a good fish, but probably was similar to the four I'd catch in this game general area on my next pass. These ranged from 27 to 33 inches. I missed a couple, too, so soon enough I was making bait again off the tip of College Island. Here, I picked up another half dozen (singles) before I circum-trolled College Island without a bite. I then ran to Sturdivant where I also struck out. I ran to the west end of Clapboard to end my day. Right on cue, my bait woke up and led a bass on a long chase before being eaten. I tightened up to another nice fish and landed a fat 30-incher while I drifted away from the productive point. I ended the session with five bass, including four of 28 - 33 inches, and I missed a couple of chances, too. I was happy enough with these results as I had relaxed more than I had worked at it. Session 2: July 4, 2023 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 8:15 AM - 12:15 PM Moon Phase: Full plus two days Tide: Low at 6:16 AM, High Tide at about 12:30 PM Conditions: Gray, threatening rain and greasy calm; 60 - 70 degrees. Water temperatures "low 60s". Water along Falmouth shoreline is gross brown from all the rain and runoff. Still fishing "blind", I found some mackerel southeast of Clapboard. Most came in as singles, but a full string helped the cause and by 9 AM I was set up off Basket Island. I quickly hooked up by a shallow boulder and landed a feisty 24-incher. This established a pattern for the day; one bass per island point. I covered quite a bit of water at Sturdivant before eliciting a strike, but that hit produced the striper of the session at just shy of 28. Off to Clapboard's west end, my single bite along the weeds resulted in an ambitious 23. Clapboard's juicy east end yielded a 25. All in all, it was pretty slow. I never found a group of bass, and I ended up releasing most of my morning mackerel. Session 3: July 5, 2023 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: Afternoon Moon Phase: Full plus three days; waning gibbous Tide: Low at 7:08 AM, High Tide at about 1:25 PM Conditions: Clear and bright, light wind from the south, about 80 degrees. With the first nice day (weather-wise) in quite a while, the day's fishing consisted of wildlife tours and mackerel fishing with young, visiting great-nieces and nephew. Things really couldn't have gone better, as all got to see seals, birds and macks. Mackerel were a bit of a struggle off Clapboard, but we found an apparent concentration of them by markers close to Basket Island. I love W's expression in the picture, below! Session 4: July 6, 2023 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 8:15 AM - 12:15 PM Moon Phase: Full plus four days; waning gibbous moon Tide: Low at 8:00 AM, High Tide at 2:18 PM Conditions: Sun with thinning clouds, still and becoming a scorcher! Water temperatures probably in the high 60's. I was still fishing blind, but it was impossible not to notice the school of pogies milling on the surface at the edge of the harbor; four were quickly snagged and deposited into the livewell. From there, I beelined to the green can marking the Sturdivant - Basket Island Channel, where I'd found the mackerel the day before. I only caught a single in about 30 minutes of searching. Still, that was enough to try the east end of Chebeague at low tide. My single mack went unmolested during among swim here. It was sent back into the well while I back-tracked to the marker guarding the long point off Chebeague; I thought this pinch-point might concentrate any current and bait. I was a little right, catching two more mackerel in about 20 minutes. The east end of Littlejohn Island had caught my eye, but the shoreline leading to it had some moving water and interesting, varied cover. I set up well short of the point with a fresh mack. Finally, the first chase and strike of the day! But the bass plucked my bait off the hook, and so I circled around and re-deployed my original mack; the third one was too big! I quickly hooked up with a confident eater, and I knew it was a good fish; it went on a long, sustained run down the shoreline. The fight was unspectacular, but dogged. I caught a glimpse of her boat side, but she took off again on another long run. She was not ready yet! Even as I dipped the net under her, I didn't realize quite how large she was. As I lifted the net over the gunwale, the handle cracked; that was a clue! Laying her on deck beside the measuring board, she dwarfed 36 inches; she was also thick! I was looking at my Personal Best striper, and by a significant margin; 43 inches if not 44, and well over 30 pounds. All while blindly fishing a new location without electronics on a bright, sunny day. Fishing is a very strange endeavor. You might think you know what's going on, but you really don't! I returned to the area where I'd taken both hits and spot-locked. I swam a pogie and then the giant mackerel. Bass continued to show themselves here while I also chunked another pogie. I missed a chunk fish and landed another, a more familiar 25-incher. Still a little stunned, I returned to the dock a bit early to hang with the family. It had been a good morning! Session 5: July 7, 2023 With: K! Target: Striped Bass Time: 9 AM - 11:30 AM and about 1 PM - 2:30 PM Moon Phase: Full plus five days; waning gibbous moon Tide: Low at 8:53 AM, High Tide at 3:13 PM Conditions: Sun, southerly wind at about 10 mph, and another scorcher! Water temperatures probably in the high 60's. After a late and false start, we went directly to Hussey Sound to try to make bait and catch a bass, fast! I was unable to snag any of the bunker from the sparse and deep school we encountered on the way, but made up for that setback by making quick work of macks off the end of College Island. At just about slack low tide, I decided to hit Crow Island, which seems to produce during all tides. As we approached from the south, I set out a bait and explained the mechanics to K. Before I was back at the helm, she was hooked up over deep water! K enjoyed the power of a really nice fish; I kept the boat off the rocks while she kept tight and finally started to make some progress. This fish measured 38 inches, was K's largest striper ever, and was the third "big" fish of the week. What a start to our session! But we still had plenty of bait and time to spare, so I circled around and set another bait. Within a minute, K was tight again, this time with a fat and spunky 32-incher. This fish, too, came from deep water off the south side of Crow Island. K was definitely getting into a groove and did a great job of predicting the next strike based on her mackerel's behavior. We were now on the north side of Crow, and her bait was right against the rocks. The bait got excited, K got excited, and the bass exploded on the surface. K quickly and expertly wound down and got to experience a "normal" fish of about 25 or 26 inches. With time running out, we hit Clapboard W on our way back to the landing. I finally deployed a bait for myself, choosing an outsized mackerel in search of a large bass. K's good luck ran out as she missed a strike for the first time; but my good fortune arrived with a lot minute hit on the giant mack. I wound down expecting great things, only to get tight to a 25-incher. Back at the landing, I kept the livewell running to preserve the last few mackerel. There was too. such fun to be had there, so I went back out, alone, for a short session. I bump-trolled a new stretch of Clapboard's northern flank, and found my last fish of the day, another 25, off some deeper water near a prominent dock. Session 6: July 8, 2023 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 6 AM - 11 AM Moon Phase: Full plus six days; waning gibbous moon Tide: Low at 9:47 AM Conditions: Fog, always thick and sometimes thicker; mild southeast wind about 65 degrees. Water temperatures probably in the high 60's. Navigating carefully from point to point only, navigation chart on my lap and referring to my phone's navigation app a couple of times, I found only a few scattered mackerel from the S1 can and along Clapboard's east end. These were enough to start fishing though! When "Clapboard E" yielded nothing even though it looked and felt fishy, I motored over to "Clapboard W". A bass almost immediately jumped on my live mack; after a nice fight, the hook simply pulled from a mid-20-inch fish. I deployed a second bait and quickly redeemed myself with a 24-incher that ate over shallow water. Since the last mackerel in the well was dead after its long swim at Clapboard E, I decided to fly fish over the flats as the tide continued to recede. Using a small olive Clouser in the somewhat dingy water, I revealed nothing in about about an hour of effort, despite improved casting and line control. I spot-locked near a recent hot-spot and chunked the dead mackerel. Two more 25-inchers came aboard! 9 AM and out of bait, with a limited range due to fog; I had a choice. I could either go in and call it a day or try for some more mackerel. I went to the nearby channel marker and fortunately, picked off a series of singles and a double. By 9:30 AM I was on my way to Sturdivant with a half-dozen lively baits. Setting up mid-island, I slowly bump-trolled an active mackerel through some attractive water through dead-low tide. When I'd reached the island's complex end without so much as a touch, I switched to spot-lock and chunking (while also free-lining a livie). Because I still had four or five macks in the well, I was able to throw some extra bloody chunks into the flow behind the boat. That seemed to wake up the bass as my first bait was almost immediately taken. Using my finest equipment, I was able to enjoy a nice fight on light tackle and released another 25-incher. At 10:30, I was contemplating calling it a day, but a 28-incher ate next. On light tackle and from a parked boat, this was a nice battle. I decided I really like chunking from such a platform! That fish kept me there for another half hour, but nothing materialized as the flood kicked into gear. What do I have to say about this? What a week of fishing! And without 4 AM starts, mosquitos, or electronics! More importantly, what a week of family! There was always a lot (too much?) going on, and this week is our annual chance to get together to the largest extent. Sometimes, striper fishing seems impossible. Other times, it can be dopey easy. While the bites this week were not as frequent as last, they were frequent enough, and from many of the "right" fish, too. I was simply fortunate to have been able to have experienced this. What will the new Personal Best be, and when will I get my next chance? It doesn't really matter; nothing changed in life with any of these big fish, and each bite shows promise. I'll continue to enjoy them all. But perhaps a little more deeply, with all these experiences in my back pocket. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: June 21, 2023 Body of Water: Casco Bay - Yarmouth, Maine Boat: Maverick flats boat With: Captain EW, Coastal Fly Target: Striped Bass Time: 7:30 AM - 12:45 PM Moon Phase: New plus four days, waxing crescent moon Tide: Low at 8:10 AM, fished the incoming tide Conditions: Early fog giving way by 9 AM to clear and bright conditions with light, alternating winds; 55 - 70 degrees. Water temperatures 58 - 60 degrees (+/-). Water stained from previous weekend's rain. I had invested in a guide for the day, if only to calibrate my fly-fishing skills and expand my horizons. I'd been looking forward to the day, but with a little trepidation; I haven't all that much experience fly-fishing in salt water for striped bass. Honestly, most of my hours with a 9-weight rod had been spent in the back yard, practicing. Note: I could get used to the leisurely convenience of meeting at the launched boat at the civil hour of 7:15 or so! I was fresh as we moved off the dock and down the Royal River. We didn't go far at all; the channel between the mainland and Cousins Island is a maze of flats and bars, and there were birds working over bass in several locations. I started with a large-profile white herring fly of about 4 inches on intermediate line and worked the water quickly, hoping to get a bass to commit to a meal. It sure looked like a Sluggo, and so I expected this to work! There were plenty of bass within casting range for the first half hour or so. I had a couple flash behind the fly, but none showed sufficient interest in eating. Meanwhile, terns and swirls let us know that we were in a good, active location. A switch to a smaller baitfish pattern (about 2.5 inches) with a copper/orange/shrimp back proved effective almost immediately. My casting also improved with a lighter fly and rod (Thomas &Thomas Zone 9-weight with a Rio intermediate line), and the fish were interested. I finally had a legitimate take, but missed the set. However, a quick retrieve on this same cast enticed another bite, and now I was hooked up with an angry bass in shallow water! After a lengthy run into the backing and plenty of back and forth, I'd broken the day's ice with a beautiful, fat 26-inch striped bass! Success! My day was made and it wasn't even 8:30 AM. This same fly quickly enticed another pair of bass to eat. Each of these was in the lower 20s. One had eaten over very shallow water (<2 feet) while blind casting and the other over a deeper channel from the midst of a brief but very intense blitz. I was hitting my groove. The next hour proved slow while the sun got higher in the sky, the fog cleared, and the birds thinned. The fish were now visibly following but refusing this fly, and admittedly, I missed a couple of bites along the way. We didn't exactly chase the remaining birds, but we bounced around hitting spots with a few casts before moving on to available greener pastures. Next we went into the the channel between Cousins and Little John Islands. We depended less on birds and instead focused on sight fishing shallow, light-colored areas. While I rarely saw individual fish, the guide did from his higher perch, and there was still sporadic bird, bait, and bass activity. The fish of the day came from about 18 inches of water over such a spot. We had switched to a favored, olive shrimp pattern, and the captain said "Strike!" I did, even though I had not seen or felt a thing, and the rod loaded. With nowhere else to go, this fish took off and was quickly well into the backing, despite a reasonably heavy drag. After a long battle with plenty of give-and-take, she came to hand. It was my largest on the fly yet, certainly from such shallow water; while not measured, at least 32 conservative inches and heavy! I picked off another fish here before we headed over towards Winslow park, where we could see a lot of birds working the water off Lane's Island. These birds were over deeper water and smaller bass, but I quickly landed three small (20-inch) bass on the shrimp while blind casting along a small current seam. A little after 12:30 PM, we were losing the tide, the sun was bright, we were competing with more boat traffic, and the terns were now centered over kelp. We returned to the ramp after a really nice day. What do I have to say about this? This was solid investment with immediate returns, and I expect future returns, too. The biggest dividend is knowing that there really are large bass in very shallow water; I've not been tapping these with any consistency. I will still maintain that fly-fishing is not superior to other methods, but it might be the best method for these conditions, and every encounter with the long wand is fun. I got everything I could have asked for from this trip; I expand on these thoughts in the "Numenon Home" section, above. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: May 28, 2023 Body of Water: Casco Bay, with a focus on Broad Cove Moon Phase: First Quarter Moon (waxing) Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 10 AM - 1:15 PM Tide: Low at 12:29 PM Conditions: Clear and bright with light, alternating winds but mostly from the south; 60 - 75 degrees. Water temperatures 54 - 60 degrees (+/-). After finding low-tide, active bass under yesterday's bright sun, it only made sense to try to build on and repeat that success. I left the landing at 10 sharp, and still had a little time to dally before my scheduled arrival in Broad Cove. My first stop was the eastern end of Clapboard Island, which I just kept honest by swimming a small swim-bait along the rocky kelp edge. Finding nothing, I invested 20 minutes into prospecting for mackerel between Clapboard, Basket and Sturdivant Islands. (A single seal patrolled these waters.) Although I found some interesting marks, I had no takes on my trolled Sabiki. At 10:30 AM (two hours before predicted low tide), I navigated toward Broad Cove. At 10:45 AM, I had the Cove to myself, and there were already birds working over the five-foot flats south of the main channel. I quickly positioned myself and started working the Z-Man swim-bait just beneath the surface. I was surrounded by feeding bass, and just about every cast produced followers. I swung and missed on the only solid take. A small adjustment was in order, and I settled on my smallest fluke-style bait, a discontinued Yum bait that's been kicking around in my tackle bag for several years. After a couple of casts and rejections, I settled on a quick, twitching retrieve, but slow enough to keep the bait just sub-surface. The bass started to eat! The active fish were constantly moving, but I was able to stay with them and land four before they settled down and I lost touch with them. These were all in four or five feet of water, and they provided some cool, visual eats. The landed fish included a pair of 25-inchers and another at 30; and I had lots of follows and near-misses, too. With a lull in the action, I stopped to each a quick lunch. I'd been joined by the same guide as the previous day, and his guys were catching decently well under the active birds, although it sounded like they had their share of close calls, too. While I ate and rested, I watched their actions. They stayed shallow, seemingly following a contour or other visual cue. But I could see some new bird activity half a mile away, at the northern terminus of the channel. I was off, looking for another round of action. I found it! Once again in about five feet of water, but adjacent to deeper water (8 feet), the bass and birds were once again tag-teaming unseen bait. I quickly landed three to 30 inches, and then decided to switch over to fly fishing. I'd brought the long wand for exactly this opportunity, and with the light wind, there was no reason not to try. When my first, short cast resulted in a quick and visible eat, my day was made! But I continued to pile on the goodness, and landed at least another half dozen from a few separate groups of fish over the next hour or so. These fly-caught fish were perhaps smaller, ranging up to a pair of 25-inchers, but they were prime specimens for a mid-day fly-fishing session. What do I have to say about this? I was able to sleep in, do some chores, and still arrive early for this predicted bite! The bass were thicker and more active than the previous day, and water temperatures are increasing. The bass were no longer singles; most hooked fish had multiple followers. I was prepared with the right tackle to make the most of it, and I really couldn't ask for more from any given session. In fact, it was probably my best day of lure fishing for striped bass in Maine, ever. So many visible bass are a rarity for me, too, and I'm glad to have invested this time into explorations of both place and technique. With the three-day weekend, will it be asking too much for this pattern to continue? We'll probably find out... Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways I was fortunate to share a week with all my girls and my son-in-law in a comfortable, Gulf-side rental home in the middle of the Florida Keys. I had access to as much water as time, weather, and a kayak allowed, and I tried to make the most of my opportunities, while also trying to keep things relaxed, simple and fun. Date: December 19 - 25, 2022 Body of Water: The Florida Keys - Grassy Key, Florida Moon Phase: Approaching, through, and past the New Moon on December 23 Boat: Occasional kayak, but also dock and wade fishing With: Generally alone, but accompanied by A, K and A at times Target: Whatever I could find, but ultimately focusing on barracuda and sharks Time: Whenever I could and as weather allowed, but usually starting with sessions before sunrise at 6:30 AM, then some sort of mid-day effort, and ending with a dock session at dusk Conditions: Varied; a few days of calm and bright conditions with clear water, but sharply degrading with a historically powerful, named winter storm to very windy and muddy by Friday night. Normal temps of 73 overnight to 83 during the day, but then falling into the 40s with highs less than 60 at week's end. Day 1 - Monday, December 19 Arrival After picking up M in DC and sharing a pleasant weekend visit with my mother, there really wasn't any time for anything but arrival and gear preparation. I rounded up the kayak and a life vest, and tied on a small swim-bait and top-water walking plug for the next morning. I was glad to squeeze in a walk to the end of the dock before dark, and glad to find four or five feet of clear water, despite the day's wind. It looked like we would be comfortable and well-positioned for the week! Day 2 - Tuesday, December 20 Learning A small white swim-bait has a chance of working anywhere, anytime. My first, pre-sunrise cast from the dock got hit, but it took a second cast for me to land the first fish of the trip. It was just a small jack, but it pulled! This was a promising start. After a lull, I switched to the walking bait, and this produced several strikes and a fish in very shallow water near shore. My first top-water fish of the trip was a small barracuda. Just legal, if I'd had a bait knife it would have made good bait for sharks! Instead, it swam free. I switched to the kayak and headed into the 10+ mph ENE wind. This proved to be the limit of sea-worthiness for the kayak, but at least the water coming over the bow was warm. I alternated paddling with throwing the swim-bait. This produced several short strikes over flats adjacent to mangroves, but no solid hookups. This also revealed how limited my radius might be; my body did not easily tolerate the restraint and constraint of the small kayak. Live shrimp were only a few hundred yards away, so I picked up a couple of dozen and a few popping floats. Back on the dock, bits of shrimp on tiny hooks produced a steady parade of small snappers (lanes, yellowtails and a single mutton), jacks, and fortunately a couple of pinfish! Even though the pinfish was too big for my taste, I set one out under a float, with the rod in a holder and the drag loosened. I was bent over the shrimp, re-baiting when I sensed rather than heard the drag slipping. Then, it was singing! I gradually tightened the drag and finally turned the fish. It was a dogged fight, but unspectacular; I think it was a sizable nurse shark. Unfortunately, the fish turned to the southwest; I had a boat lift with a 30 (+) -foot center console on my left shoulder, and I got rubbed off on the outermost piling. Darn it! Still, I was pleased to connect with a heavy and fast fish. It had been a good, first day introducing me to the local fishery. Day 3 - Wednesday December 21 Kayak Success and Dock Heartache The dawn was quiet and calm, and so of course I started with a top-water. I fan-casted my favored Rebel Jumpin' Minnow. I'd already raised a few small fish (jacks, barracuda and/or needlefish) when the calm was explosively interrupted with the most dramatic top-water hit of my career. With a hint of weight, I swung and instantly cut through my 30-pound leader, perhaps 18 or 24 inches up. Whatever it was - shark, tarpon, barracuda or snook - had inhaled my hapless lure. Apparently, I'd found flesh, too, because my lure never re-surfaced. Losing another big fish hurt, but what an experience! Plus, clearly there were big fish available from the dock. After a short stint for work (???), I mounted a kayak excursion to the west, where I could see a prominent point and a long stretch of mangrove shoreline. Heading into a mild wind under clear skies and a brutal sun, I found some good habitat, a rumor of a tarpon from a fellow kayak fisherman, and a spooked school of something (bones? reds?) in about 6 inches of water. The catch was just a few barracuda for me; I caught these on white flukes with weighted swim-bait hooks, over shallow, varied bottom. These only stretched to 21 inches or so, but were still fun to catch. I intended to keep one for bait, but after resting in a docile state for about 20 minutes at my feet, it suddenly leapt to freedom and quickly swam away. Returning to the dock, my body failed me. I could not extract myself from the kayak without help and I could barely walk. That was the end of kayak fishing for me for the week. That evening, I floated frozen ballyhoo plugs from the dock. Once again, the drag singed and I was tight to another big fish. After a long battle with a suspected shark (blacktip? I'd seen one earlier...), I had finally turned the fish away from the boat lift when I felt my worn leader part. Ugh, another lost fish! Other highlights from the session included a nice extended view of a graceful spotted ray, and hooking an elusive filefish! This odd guy had been hanging by the dock for a couple of days and stealing baits intended for pinfish. It surprised me with speed and unexpected athleticism, and I dropped it at my feet. There's a cool picture of this fish at key-west-fishing.link/filefish.htm Day 4 - Thursday, December 22 Oooh, Barracuda! I was treated to another beautiful, gentle and calm sunrise. I casted a variety of baits without success, and things were slow at first, but I had faith in my ballyhoo under the float. When I lost the float, I simply placed a fresh chunk on bottom for the first take of the morning. With an instant, giant jump and long run, I suspected a tarpon! Fortunately, it ran north and east, away from the dock. I gradually tightened my drag and turned the fish. I played it lightly and slowly brought it in. Now with a 4-foot barracuda at my feet, I couldn't really be disappointed that it wasn't a tarpon. With no real way to land this fish, I simply admired it. It took only a slight change in angle and a shake of its head to cut through my leader. No picture; but still a legal, saltwater catch as my leader was within the rod tip. It was a great, if still somewhat unsatisfactory, experience. I continued my morning session with a few smaller 'cudas on flukes (and a few cutoffs, too.) I ended the morning when a large but lumbering fish pulled me into the boat lift and rubbed through the line. I don't know if it was a ray or a nurse shark???I didn't feel too bad about losing this, but now I was just about out of hooks! Mid-day, I grabbed my 9-weight fly rod, some pliers and a handful of flies. Wet-wading the flat immediately in front of our house under bright skies, I enjoyed landing five small barracuda to perhaps 20 inches (a first-time experience, for me) on a green-over-white Clouser Minnow that I had tied a couple of winters ago. Surprisingly, the 'cudas seemed to prefer a slower presentation, and would follow, but not strike, a popper. I found myself running out of weather, too, and yet I had to go shopping? Bass Pro Shops was just 22 miles up Route 1, and I bought more than enough to keep me going for the rest of the week. I hit the float again at 3 PM until dark; there were plenty of troublesome, pesky fish chewing my baits, but no real chances other than a box puffer and a needlefish. I also managed to explode my light lure rod with a power stroke after I had hooked the dock on an errant back-cast... self-imposing another unnecessary limitation on myself for my remaining fishing time. Day 5 - Friday, December 23 Impending Weather Change Gray skies and a bit of westerly wind greeted me at the dock's end, while thunderstorms rumbled way offshore to the north. I started with a Rapala Skitter Walk, and raised a couple of small fish almost immediately. A small but feisty jack crashed the bait on about cast six. That was followed up by a topwater lizardfish (?!?!?!). By 7 AM, the bite has slowed and I switched to bait fishing. I deployed pinfish and a variety of cut baits. I had just one bite, another cutoff that occurred without notice. I prepared a 40-lb leader with about 15 inches of wire tippet for the next session; I guess I was now officially targeting toothy critters. Mid-day, I tried fly-fishing for barracuda again. Using different Clousers under gray skies. I managed only a single eater that fell for a small, pink-over-white fly. I finished the day with a great evening session with K and her husband, A. It was A's first fishing experience! We used a variety of live and dead baits, both under floats and free-lined. These were chewed, but not eaten by the right fish. A did a great job supplying baits from behind the flowing chum bag. In addition to lots of pinfish and small snappers, A added a couple of Blue Runners to our list of species for the week. Their enthusiasm provided a good recalibration of my attitude, as it was a pleasure to share such a simple expression of the sheer enjoyment of fishing. This was good for me, and came just in time, because at about 7 PM, a wall of north wind hit and temperatures started to plummet. Day 6 - Saturday, December 24 Cold Front! It happens every trip! But this front was a bit of a historic doozy across the entire country, and it finally reached southern Florida. The day topped out at 55 degrees or so. With 20 mph (+) north winds, the Gulf-side water was too roiled and muddied. I opted to wade the Atlantic Side flats, so I hit Route 1 and headed north. The water at my first stop, Tom's Harbor, was too deep for safe wading. With current and deeper water, I casted flukes and swim-baits from a few shore perches, but found no fish other than a nurse shark passing by my feet. After a couple other scouting stops, I ended up at Lower Matecumbe Key near Anne's Beach. The patchy brown water looked promising for wading and possible barracuda encounters. After throwing a swim-bait and a Rapala Skitter Walk, I settled on what I knew worked for 'cudas; a white fluke. I saw a few and had a couple of taps, just no hookups! Still, this was worthwhile and pleasant enough. Joined by the nurse shark, a bonnethead shark, a couple of small snappers and a variety of White American Ibis, I was flats fishing in the Keys! I was in the game, and something good could have happened. At 4 PM, I thought I perceived (but was mistaken) a lessening of the wind. I finished my fishing day by drifting dead baits under floats from the dock into the teeth of the wind. Muddy water, weeds and wire leaders led to an uncomfortable session without any encounters. Day 7 - Sunday, December 25 Merry Christmas! The North wind continued and there were better uses of my time than fishing. We simply spent a quiet and companionable day together. My fishing was done; the wind would continue well into Monday, and we were due to fly home. What do I have to say about this? I was on the edge of something really good... but not quite there yet, fishing-wise. But everybody else was super happy with the accommodations and set-up, and overall it was a great week, without doubt. But, ending 0-for-Big Bites!?!?! Ugh! Part of it was the set-up from the dock, and there's not too much I can do about that. I did turn the athletic shark before it rubbed me off. I saw the giant barracuda at my feet, and it took only a slight change in angle to get sliced off; I was fortunate to have at least seen this fish. And, I experienced the most impressive top-water strike ever, so there will be good memories to bring home. Still, I'm not sure I am ready to start thinking about the next trip; it's probably going to be ice fishing! I was slow to switch to wire. After all, what was I actually fishing for? Not surprisingly, my bites dried up when I did so. Maybe some 60- or 80-pound fluoro will come with me on future trips. I was super pleased to have spent a session with K and A. Our few hours were a fun, action-packed intro to fishing. K has long been my fishing buddy, and it was great to expand our fishing experience through her to others. Not surprisingly, A proved to be an enthusiastic and quick learner. I look forward to many future sessions. Have I mentioned that Best Top-water Strike Ever!?! Who can argue with that? The fish took away my floating plug, so I connected well enough. I lost considerable leader, so it took it deep; or, a sharp gill-plate found my line. What was it??? There were a bunch of other (minor) firsts this trip, including some random species (needlefish, lizardfish, box puffer), Florida success on top-waters (barracuda, jack), and 'cuda on the fly. Other than exploding my rod, I had no tackle issues at all! And I really liked my LL Bean travel rods. Finally, A says it was her best vacation ever (by far!!!) I certainly cannot argue with that. I'll end 2022 simply recognizing that I am a very fortunate guy, even when I am not on the fish I dream about! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: September 11, 2022 Body of Water: Casco Bay - Falmouth, Maine Moon Phase: Waxing Crescent Moon; Full Moon plus one day Boat: Shore fishing from landing float and then amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 5:10 AM - 10 AM Conditions: Low tide at 6:13 AM. Overcast and calm; 65 - 75 degrees. Water temperatures 60 - 63 degrees (+/-). I started from the float, hoping to make productive use of Quadrant II before daylight. After two quick worm-eating bass in the 20-inch range landed, there was a short lull. But at 5:45 (one-half hour before predicted low tide), I connected with a much heavier and stronger fish. A 29-incher hit the deck; it was nice to see a bigger fish in the mix. Another 20-incher soon followed. I'd now converted 11 consecutive chances into landed fish, but would soon start to pay the price for this run of recent success. My next bite came unbuttoned halfway to the float, and the morning's action suddenly ceased. I stayed on the float for another half-hour or so, but convinced myself to leave and look for greener pastures, even though Quad III lay ahead. By 6:45 I was in amybaby22, happily fly-casting a foam popper along the Falmouth shoreline. I was hoping to take advantage of the gray skies, but it was pretty obviously "dead" here, and so after about 20 minutes of casting practice, I stored the long wand and headed out to Hussey. The tide was starting to flood, and I rode the current along historically productive seams and edges, searching for mackerel with my Sabiki-and-spoon. After several re-locations, I finally found a pod in the deep water below Soldiers Ledge, and I put a dozen prime baits into the well in pretty short order. My first stop was the "new", favored stretch of rocky shoreline on Peaks. There was quite a bit of whitewash from the ocean swell, and with the wash, plenty of weeds. I moved through my "prime" stretch and continued with the current. Moving just past the eddy that had first attracted me here, I maneuvered my bait close to the rocks and finally got crunched. (It had been perhaps 15 minutes of fishing without any action, something I had not yet experienced here). Striper No. 5 of the morning was a real nice 26-incher. Continuing and focusing close to rocks with active wash, I had the chance to expand my known productive range along this shoreline. I missed a run or two and then had the hook simply pull from a good fish. This was still fun and informative, if not exactly productive. By now I'd worked almost all they way down to The Pumpkin, and I was tempted to move over to the rip forming along its upstream edge when another boat pulled in to fish there. (I would later see this same boat working Cow Island, albeit at the wrong tidal stage in my opinion). I decided to try some additional new-to-me water; there was plenty of whitewater along Peaks Island to explore. I moved to near the end of Hussey and picked up the rocky and battered shoreline. Priority One was to stay off the rocks. Priority Two was to keep my mackerel close to these rocks. I quickly had a savage hit; after a pretty good run, the hook pulled. Oh well, I re-baited and hooked up again just a bit further down. The 24-incher was quickly landed and released. I was in a hurry to get my next bait out! I ran through the last of my bait, landing another 24 but pulling hooks from a couple of others. It had been a good day! But with a little better luck, it could have been better! What do I have to say about this? I'm doing bad science again. During today's run of pulled hooks, I was using some different hooks while also dealing with boat control along the rocks. The hooks were extreme circles. I like the way they hold the baits, they seem to hook the bass reliably in the jaw, but... were they involved in the dropped fish? Meanwhile, the conditions along the rocks were pretty extreme, too. Boat control was always in my mind, even when fighting fish, and I was actively engaged in handling the boat when at least a couple of the fish dropped off. Hooks or distraction? Or simply bad luck? I don't know. I'll have to try to figure this out. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: August 30, 2022 Body of Water: Casco Bay - Falmouth, Maine Moon Phase: Waxing Crescent Moon; New Moon plus 3 days Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 6 AM - 8 AM Conditions: Low tide at 7:39 AM. Clear; SW wind about 10 mph and 70 - 80 degrees. Water was green; water temperatures 66 degrees (+/-). What better way to celebrate the start of my 60th year than to go fishing? And what more peaceful way to fish than explore some quiet shoreline with a surface popper? That was the plan, at least for a couple of hours before reporting to work. It was a good plan, too, as three of the first five casts yielded strikes on my squid-colored Hogy popper, resulting in bass of 21 and 23 inches. A few minutes later, a following swirl revealed another group of fish and I caught two more of similar size on three explosive strikes. But when the sun cleared the fog and cloud layer by 6:45 AM, this bite evaporated. But I was already happy with this day. I switched to my 9-weight fly rod with a white foam popper and relaxed. I worked through the same water without raising another fish (heck, I knew fish were present, and on most days, I'd have been fishing from my nearby float during this tide cycle, anyway), but then relocated to Clapboard Island's reef complex at the west end. When I raised nothing here, I simply called it a (good!) day, and then headed in. What do I have to say about this? This is exactly what I wanted. I hadn't caught a topwater fish yet this season (?!?!???!). The sunrise was colorful, I might have been first on the water for the entire bay as far as I could tell, and I recognized that working the popper on the fly rod really maintained my presence. This was good physical and mental practice, and that might pay off when the conditions are a little better for a sustained surface bite. So, here's to Year 60! It's off to an excellent start! Now, as far as the bass are concerned, all my bites came during Quadrant II and away from the shoreline, but oriented to objects in 8 or 10 feet of water. These objects included floats, mooring balls and moored boats. Open water and shoreline edges did not produce any fish. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: July 31, 2022 Body of Water: Casco Bay - Falmouth, Maine Moon Phase: Waxing Crescent Moon; New Moon plus three days Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 1:30 PM - 3 PM Conditions: High tide at 1:55 PM. Super clear and bright; southerly wind in excess of 15 mph and 85 degrees. Water was green; water temperatures 62 - 70 degrees (+/-) depending upon location. Just for something completely different, and as a means to cope with the lack of large bait, I decided to hit rock and kelp edges during high tide with the fly rod. Let's just say this might not have been my best choice. As I arrived at the float, the afternoon sea breeze commenced. Ultimately, it was this wind and not the lack of fish that took me off the water after just 90 minutes of effort. I focused on the flooded kelp edges off both ends of Clapboard and my inside turn on Sturdivant. Boat control and maintaining sea legs took almost all my effort. I just didn't have much left for fishing! This was simply a quiet, inglorious ending to July. 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 |
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