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Date: November 11, 2020 Body of Water: Walden Pond - Concord, Massachusetts Boat: None, wading from shore With: Alone Target: Stocked Trout Time: 9:45 AM - 1:45 PM Conditions: Mostly cloudy; about 70 degrees F; southwest wind to over 10 mph; water was very clear and in the 50s I fished most of the pond's southern shore, jumping from point to point. I casted a variety of lures while also soaking Gulp! and marshmallows on a light Carolina rig set in a forked stick. It didn't matter what I threw (Sinking Rapala, Little Cleo, tube jig, spinner, etc.), whether my retrieve was fast, slow, shallow, deep, or where I set the bait; I elicited no known response from any fish. Other than a single, nearby trout-like swirl, there was no sign of any activity above or below the water's surface. The weather has been unseasonably warm and pleasant for about a week; that's due to change in the next 24 hours. In the meanwhile, the pond is stubbornly stuck between seasons. What do I have to say about this? At least I knew to cut my losses when a young family reported that they'd walked around the entire pond, and nobody had caught a fish! And there were quite a lot of folks trying on this Veterans' Day. As I walked out, I was checked for the first time by Massachusetts Conservation Officers; I'm glad to see they have some presence. I'll try again when the water cools down. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways
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Date: November 7, 2020 Body of Water: Ashumet Pond - Falmouth/Mashpee, Massachusetts Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Stocked trout Time: 7:45 AM - 10:45 AM Conditions: Beautiful; clear and bright, 55 - 65 degrees, light wind; clear water with 10 feet of visibility; water temperatures 52 - 53 degrees F; correspondingly poor fishing With the striper season waning, I took a subset of my Great Lakes trout and salmon trolling knowledge and gear inland to Cape Cod stocked trout ponds. I started with Ashumet; it was convenient and certainly inviting on such a beautiful autumn day. Line counter reels, including one with two colors of lead core, were affixed to light bass crank-bait casting rods and an assortment of floating and sinking Rapalas, cranks and small spoons filled my tackle bag; I was ready to find trout! I'd barely gone 100 yards before the rod with my favored F9 Rapala in blue bent over; fish on! But the fight was uninspired, and my expected trout transformed into a yellow perch (albeit a pretty decent one at about 10 inches). Okay, my hot start was simply a good start; and now, the struggle began. I continued my lap around the pond, targeting 6 to about 20 feet of water, but occasionally straying into deeper or shallower areas. Weed growth was sparse, scruffy and focused from about 5 to 8 feet; the perch had hit over such a weed patch. At the pond's northern end, a little creek provided current and there was a hatch of midges; an occasional swirl indicated fishy life. But my trolling pass went unnoticed. Here, I noticed substantial marks in 22 - 35 feet of water. I spent an unproductive half hour trying to get a response from these with jigging spoons and small tube jigs. These marks convinced me there was substantial life in these depths; I replaced one rod with the lead core and a Little Cleo spoon to continue the troll. But still, I elicited no bites. Returning to the shallows, I caught three more yellow perch. These seemed to prefer the S7 Rapala in black over gold. But these were not the fish I wanted; I decided to relocate to another pond. Ashumet Pond certainly was pretty, it just wasn't worth all of my time on this particular day. Date: November 7, 2020 Body of Water: Mashpee-Wakeby Ponds - Mashpee, Massachusetts Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Stocked trout Time: Noon - 2 PM Conditions: 65 -70 degrees; bass tournament; water stained brown with 4 or 5 feet of visibility; water temperatures of 54 to 56 degrees F I arrived at the launch to find that the pond was hosting a bass tournament; but this is a sizable body of water, and this pond has a reputation for coughing up some larger, holdover trout; I could still make my day! I was immediately concerned about the appearance of the water; brown and about 55 degrees, I suspected the fall turnover was in progress, and that fishing could be tough. I tried to focus shallower on this pond based on warmth and limited visibility; my efforts were centered on 5 - 15 or 20 feet of water. I used only mono, and usually paired a floating Rapala with a sinking version. I did mix in J9 baits, thinking the extra vibration might call out some fish. Long story short, I might have had a single drive-by strike. Near the eastern shore of Wakeby Pond in 11 feet of water, the rod presenting an F11 Rapala in black over silver momentarily buckled. It had released the tension prior to my getting to it, and the drag never slipped; but it sure looked like a walloping. Thoughts of the ramp clogged with boats; putting the boat away and the drive back home; I called it quits at 2 PM. Still, I barely made it home before dark. Winter is definitely coming. What do I have to say about this? This was pleasant and relaxing enough, but the reward:effort ratio was a little low. Oh well, had I gone striper fishing and struggled, I'd likely have been distracted by thoughts of the awesome trout fishing I was missing out on. And, now I at least have some experience on these two new-to-me waterways. The amybaby22 proved to be an able trolling platform and trolled down to the slow speeds required for Sweetwater fish. I enjoyed the downscaled, light trolling tackle I had assembled; with a partner aboard, a four-rod spread will be efficient and easy to monitor and maintain. There will be more of this in my future, I am certain. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: October 24, 2020 Body of Water: Barnstable Harbor - Barnstable, Massachusetts Moon Phase: Waxing Quarter Moon; Full - seven days Tides: Just about High at first, falling throughout, beginning of flood at end Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 7:45 AM - 2:30 PM Conditions: 55 - 65 degrees F; water was 57 - 60 degrees and clear. Skies were clear at first with light wind, but clouds and westerly breeze built after Noon. Other than thousands of migratory sea ducks, little bird or bait activity was evident. With predicted winds from the southwest, I thought Barnstable might offer protection and options both within the harbor and out on Cape Cod Bay. Plus, I'd really enjoyed my only previous visit to this picturesque port. Predicted High Tide was about 6:33 AM; I thought to catch the outgoing tide at the harbor's mouth. On my way there, I scanned for birds or bait, but none showed. Still, I scouted a few sandbars and current seams with poppers and jigs. Nothing reacted, though. This was my first trip to this port with a sonar; and I was surprised at the depth of portions of the channel. Several spots reached over 40 feet deep, and there was a lot of water over 20 feet. Reviewing areas that had produced fish in my previous visit, there were both bait and marks with some regularity, but just on bottom. I decided to drift with the building current and jigged with a variety of jigs and spoons without a bite. At 9 AM, I decided push my search further down the channel. To cover more water, more quickly, I switched to trolling. I quickly had a spread of two deep-diving stick-baits as I trolled with the current. I had just settled into a speed of about 3.5 mph, two mph over current speed, when the rod with my Rapala X-Rap Magnum 15 went off; I'd avoided the skunk with a pretty 24-incher! This fish had hit in about 30 feet of water, but right on the channel edge that went quickly into less than 20 feet. I continued further down the channel, almost to the end of the markers; but without any further action, ran back up-current to set up another trolling pass. This pass produced two additional fish of similar size. Both ate the same presentation, which by now I had determined was running about 19 feet deep, 100 feet behind the boat. Both hits came in 23 - 25 feet of water, slightly down current from the first; both ate between 10 and 10:30 AM; and so all three of my hits occurred within an hour of peak tidal current flow. These fish, under such beautiful conditions, made my day, but also kept me occupied for another hour. As Noon approached and I had seemingly lost touch with my fish, I decided to explore Cape Cod Bay, hoping to find birds, bait and bass. In short, despite going all the way west to Scorton Ledge, I found none. I scouted marked wrecks to find nothing of interest. I completed two circuits of Scorton Ledge itself and covered an additional 45-minutes of blind trolling with my stick-baits in 18 - 30 feet of water. I returned to Barnstable to catch the beginning of the flood. I trolled my way in, but encountered more "Nothing" as I entered the harbor itself. The weather was turning; skies were gray to forbidding, and the wind was both strengthening but also swinging more to the west. I was back at the dock by 2:30 or so, wondering if I'd caught my last striped bass of my boating season. What do I have to say about this? Of course, I'd like to contact more than three fish a trip, but this was still a quality experience. I appreciate the validation these fish gave me for my use of precision trolling tactics; I had placed and adjusted my baits with purpose, as if I were targeting Great Lakes salmon and trout, Muskegon Lake walleye, or Reeds Lake pike. I now have confidence in trolling stick-baits for stripers when conditions dictate. After the fact, I received a report of schoolies and small blues chasing peanut bunker well up the harbor, a couple of days prior. Maybe this was still going on; but I didn't see any evidence of such activity. I'll just need to return some day and acquaint myself with the inshore fishing of Barnstable Harbor. Both of my trips so far have featured a falling tide, and so I've been drawn to the harbor mouth. There's still so much to learn and explore! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: October 18, 2020 Body of Water: Great Pond and environs - Falmouth, Massachusetts Moon Phase: Waxing crescent; New + one day Tides: Low Tide at 7:18 AM; no problem launching from Green Pond; flooding tide throughout the session Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 7:30 AM - 12:15 PM Conditions: Clear blue skies with high haze; 35 - 60 degrees F; Easterly wind building to 15 mph or more; water temperatures from 55 degrees (inside, early) to 59 degrees (Vineyard Sound) I chose to launch at Green Pond because I thought it would give me the best access to the greatest diversity of water. Given the calm forecast and the flooding tide, I thought that false albacore in Vineyard Sound might come into play for perhaps the last chance this season, while Green Pond and any of the other accessible salt ponds could provide shelter and a chance at finding stripers. As I edged out of Green Pond just at the start of flood tide, I was greeted by a mild easterly wind. I knew to be wary, though, of how this wind could build over the course of the morning (whether forecast or not). Plus, the current was sweeping to the east (against the wind), a formula for heaving seas. I decided against heading to the west (Nobska) for concern of a slow and tiresome return trip. Rather, I chose to head east, which would offer a smooth ride off the bat, as well as a return trip with the wind at my back. I scanned the horizon as I headed east, hoping to find some birds or sign of fish. When I reached the main outlet of Waquoit, there was still no overt sign of life, but a nice rip was forming to the southeast of the outlet. I decided to concentrate my initial efforts here. Maybe I could wait out the arrival of any albies. A couple of other boats posted positions and blind casted; I decided to troll stick baits and cover some water while searching and waiting. The rip was formed as the eastern current flow rode over the outlet's deposits in 8 or 10 feet of water, dropping off to 20 or more feet. I marked some bait and some fish, but in over an hour of effort, trolling both slowly into the 1.4 knot current and briskly with it, I didn't connect with any fish. Suspended weeds fouling my baits were a bit of a problem. Before I left this area, I vertically jigged over marks with a Hogy Squinnow jig. Nothing responded in 20 minutes or so of effort. I decided to look for some bass. As I entered Great Pond about two hours into the flood, the inlet was a washing machine of confused seas, and the initial set of channel markers was submerged by the rushing current. I worked myself into the pond, scanning for working birds or bait. When I got to the mid-lake "No Wake" marker, I noticed how clear the water was, with well over six feet of visibility. I loitered here for a bit, casting a popper and a swim-bait. As I decided to move to the east to fish a grass edge, I noticed some birds working, and as I approached, I could both see and hear bass crashing on bait in less than three feet of water. My initial casts with the Hogy Popper moved some fish, but they rejected this bait. I picked up my light rod with a white fluke rigged on a 1/8-ounce swim-bait hook, and the fish showed immediate interest. I missed a couple of taps on my initial casts as I found my cadence, but then a 30-plus-incher confidently crushed the bait with a cool, slashing shallow-water take. It had taken a couple of hours to find the right situation, or maybe it had found me. In the next 20 minutes or so, I enjoyed tricking three more fish into eating the fluke. All were in three feet of water or less, where they provided fiesty, visual fights in the clear water. All in all, two were in the low 20's, but two were solid "keepers" of 30 or 31 inches. By 10 AM, this activity was over. I worked farther up into Great Pond, and even into Perch Pond, without finding any more birds or bass. Approaching Noon, I thought I might find some fish inside Waquoit Bay at the end of the flood. However, when I reached Vineyard Sound, conditions were considerably rougher than I had left them earlier. I certainly could have worked my way to the Menauhant entrance to Waquoit, and then up the bay to other fishable spots of interest. But, I have been fighting the wind all season; and I was suddenly tired of doing so. I cut the day "short" and returned to Green Pond. I was "tricked" into investigating two groups of active gulls on my way in, but in both cases they seemed to be harassing each other and not chasing bait. I was done catching fish for the day. What do I have to say about this? If this proves to be the end of my striper season, I am pleased to have my 2020 striper pursuits conclude with such quality light-tackle fish in such an enjoyable setting. But if the weather and bait hold, perhaps I'll be able to chase them again over the next couple of weeks. One thing I noticed and filed away for future benefit, while the stripers ignored my popper, they did jump on a fellow kayak fisherman's dog-walking bait. I've pretty much had my Jumpin' Minnow tied on all season, but I'd replaced it with a Hogy epoxy jig in preparation for any albies I might encounter. No real harm this time, but it is always good to be able to provide some quick options for these fish, before they disappear for the moment, the day, or the season. Finally, what will it take for me to switch from stripers to trout? I guess I'll recognize it when it happens, but I hope it's not ambiguous. I neither want to give up too soon on the bass, nor chase them in folly. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: October 11, 2020 Body of Water: Great River/Waquoit Bay - Falmouth/Mashpee, Massachusetts Moon Phase: Waxing gibbous; New moon - five days Tides: Predicted High Tide at 8:52 AM Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 7:30 AM - 1:30 PM Conditions: About 60 degrees F and clear; persistent and stiff Northerly wind around 20 mph; water temperature 60-61 F As I launched, I was pleased to see that the water had maintained a favorable temperature for stripers over the last couple of weeks. I was not pleased to feel the brisk wind or see the flags stiff on their poles. But, I'd chosen this location knowing full well from my last trip that it would be fishable under these conditions. With the tide rising for a bit, I thought I'd be able to find some active bass along the flooding sod banks of upper Great River or Jehu Pond. It took all of three casts for the stripers to let me know they were still present. A chunky teenager ate my chugging Hogy popper right along the bank. I continued along the bank, chosen for its combination of orientation to the wind and my subsequent drift, but also for the fine memories of previous catches that it provided. I thought the wind and the first fish of the day dictated that I continue to throw the popper, but I was starting to wonder after a hundred yards or more of fruitless casting. On my first cast to the bank with a white fluke rigged on a 1/8-ounce weighted swim-bait hook, I thought I felt a tap. I fired off another cast to the same location and worked the bait with an extra measure of frantic energy; and a nice 20- or 21-inch striper crushed the bait. With two spunky fish landed for the first half hour of effort, I was feeling good. Especially so, since my next striper landed would be Number 200 for the season! I am not going to say I struggled for the next hour, but I did go fishless! I was spending as much time and effort on controlling the boat as I was fishing, so I moved further up the marsh to minimize the wind's fetch. My new location afforded only slightly more control of the boat, but I quickly revealed a few fish with follows and bulges on both the popper and the soft jerk. I flat out missed a nice fish from just a few inches of water that crushed the fluke, ripped out a few yards of drag and tore up the water's surface as it somehow escaped. And then I experienced a period where the fish repeatedly rejected my offerings at close range, or I spooked them away from the bank. I wasn't struggling, but the first niggling thoughts of being stuck on 199 entered my head. And, the tide just didn't seem to be building! I don't know if it was just a weak, mid-moon tide, or if the persistent northerly wind was keeping the water out of the bay, but the water seemed at least a foot lower than I'd expected or hoped for. Much of the sod bank was flanked in only inches of water, which didn't offer much security for any local bass. Still, I was encountering fish, including a couple of nice ones, and I was in a physical location where I'd never developed a backup plan. I had the choice of grinding it out, or moving; and moving about to a different location where I could expect to find fish on another pattern seemed daunting. I chose to stay. I did relocate to another stretch of grass, though, and I started concentrating with more earnest on key points and cuts. With renewed focus on location and technique, I converted my next strike into the nicest fish of the day, and my 200th striped bass of 2020. This particular fish came from a prominent sod point guarding the mouth of Jehu Pond. It looked like such a prime location that I peppered it with multiple casts before moving on. I dead-sticked the fluke in place on my last cast, just hoping to keep the bait in the sweet spot for as long as possible, when my line jumped. This healthy 23- or 24-incher gave a fine fight on my light fluke rod. Now having secured Number 200, I moved into Jehu Pond for the first time. I found some depth (8 - 10 feet, in contrast to Hamblin Pond) as well as several concentrations of apparent baitfish. I casted a jig-and-eel through these areas, and made a couple of trolling passes with a Yozuri swimmer and the Rapala Sliver. All for naught, though. From here, I moved down Great River, selectively hitting a few sod points and banks. The tide was certainly going out, now, but water levels were still surprisingly low. Finding nothing, I moved into Waquoit Bay, proper. I hoped to find some birds on the north end, but nothing showed; and so I moved over to the Child River branch and fished my familiar water there. I found a nice concentration of marks in the deepest available water (12 feet). After missing a solid strike on a Hogy Heavy Jig, I switched to a white bucktail jig tipped with a pink Gulp! mullet. I dredged the final striper of the day off bottom; this was another fish in the low-20-inch range. Surprisingly, my group of fish broke up, and I couldn't hook up again. I had a difficult time giving up, though, and so added another fishless half hour or so to my day before calling it a day. What do I have to say about this? This was some of the toughest fishing I've had on the Cape this year. But, I will admit, I enjoyed the struggle, if only because I got there. While it would be tough to choose a day like this over a hot bite/slugfest, the pursuit of No. 200 and the known presence of fish kept me focused. There was no "sloppy" fishing this day; I believe I squeezed as much out as I could expect. Was this the end of my season? Possibly; we'll see how weather and schedule intertwine. I've already scouted a couple of trout ponds with boat ramps on the Cape as a backup, just in case the weather falls apart before I can return. Finally, the fourth fish of the day, No. 201, fell for a bucktail jig that I tied last winter. It was tipped with a Gulp! mullet, so perhaps that should get the credit, and this wasn't as satisfying as tricking a bass on my own hand-tied fly; but is still a notable occurrence, worthy of a satisfied reflection on time well spent in the gloom of off-season. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: October 4, 2020 Body of Water: Plum Island - Newbury, Massachusetts Moon Phase: Waning gibbous; Full + three days Tides: High tide at 1:33 PM Boat: None, surf fishing With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 11:45 AM - 4:30 PM Conditions: Clear and bright; 60 degrees or so; calm winds from NW switching to SE; tons of bunker; light surf and very clear water The bright skies and light surf were likely against me; but I had the timing of high tide and the switch of tides in my favor. I hit the beach from Parker River National Wildlife Refuge's Parking Lot Number 1 and walked north until I hit some "structure". Here, a subtle point coincided with a deep hole and a cut in the sandbar. I'd caught fish very nearby a couple of years ago. Conditions were certainly pleasant. Things were looking good! I gave a rotation of baits 10 or 12 casts each; 1-ounce Kastmaster, Gibb's Pencil Popper, Hogy soft sand eel, 1-ounce Crippled Herring, Diawa SP Minnow. I was casting into about 10 feet of water, and the beach offered a deep lip right at my feet. Other than a follow from a very small bass on the SP Minnow, I got off to a slow start. A series of small pops on the surface had me casting the Gibb's popper again, but nothing materialized. Now, the lighting revealed a purple ribbon stretching up the beach, just within casting reach and coinciding with the mild surface activity. I dug out a snagging hook and quickly confirmed that these were bunker. I switched my snagged bait to a circle hook and swam it for a half hour or more, without any action. All the while, the river of bait passed by, unharrassed by birds or fish. Despite the lack of action, I was cemented to this area by the amount of bait. I knew that big bass or bluefish could show up at any time; I wouldn't want to miss that. Having lost some time to live-lining the pogy, I resumed my casting. It was almost impossible to run a lure through the school of menhaden without snagging one. When I was able to do so, my Kastmaster got eaten by the bunker multiple times. I eventually switched to the Crippled Herring jig with a single hook, worked slowly beneath the mass of bait. This worked, too, as I landed three small stripers in the 20 minutes surrounding high tide. I may have missed a couple, too, because I'd become shy about setting the hook with so much contact with the bunker. I didn't want to lose any more time to fighting and handling them. All three stripers came from the stretch of water between the river of bait and shore. The last one was accompanied by a bigger (still low-20-inch-range) companion. That was a a neat sight in the crystal clear water. After that flurry of action, the bass vanished; and the pogies continued their journey to the south. At about 2:30, an hour after high tide, I decided to relocate and try to find some more fish. I took the slow drive to Parking Lot Number 6. Surveying the beach, I decided to go south, because I could see the beach draining into some white water. By the time I got there, the water was too shallow for my liking. After a few casts, I continued my walk south (just about to the Parking Lot Number 7 access point) until I could cast around some rock structure being revealed by the receding tide. I alternated between the Gibbs pencil popper and bottom lures; they worked equally well (producing nothing.) I hit a couple of cuts on my way back to Lot 6, but only succeeded in losing my Crippled Herring to an unexpected spot of sticky bottom. This stretch of beach was quite a bit shallower and less steep than my initial location; I suspect they fish differently and produce under varying conditions. I may have to figure all that out. What do I have to say about this? Besides enjoying a throughly beautiful day, I was able to halve the difference to my current goal of landing 200 Stripers this season. With three more to go, I might even get there, although I understand and appreciate Xeno's Paradox... Twenty dollars for a year of access to Plum Island (and other federal lands) seems like an excellent deal, too. I'll be back, with or without fishing gear! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways As a change of pace to the daily slog of 2020, we rented a house on post-season Cape Cod for the week. Equipped with Internet access, this allowed all of us to continue our teleworking, but from a refreshing location and with amybaby22 docked at our doorstep. All of Waquoit Bay, the south-facing salt ponds, Nobska Light, Vineyard Sound and various shoals and rips were within theoretical reach, and with funny fish presumably around, I had more fishing opportunities than I could avail myself to in our limited time. I can see this becoming an annual event! Saturday - Doubly Pleasant Date: September 19, 2020 Body of Water: Waquoit Bay - Falmouth, Massachusetts Moon Phase: Waxing gibbous; New Moon plus two days Tides: Pretty much falling from Slack High Tide throughout Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone, but joined by A for the evening Target: Striped Bass, False Albacore Time: 2:30 PM - 7 PM Conditions: Clear, about 60 degrees F with strong NE wind, diminishing for a beautiful evening; water about 64 degrees I picked up amybaby22 from her resting spot in Maine, quickly turned around, and was launching into Waquoit Bay by 2:30 PM. My Old Friend, Strong Wind, had joined me on the Cape, again, but I suspected that I'd be able to find some fish and navigate to our rental home for the week in the protected waters offered by Waquoit. Old habits die hard, and so my first spot to try was at the confluence of the two "rivers" just down from the launch. After a few scouting casts with a top-water lure, I moved to the deepest available water and switched to a white Yum soft jerk-bait on a 1/4-ounce lead head. It didn't take long to confirm the presence of stripers in this deeper water, and my sonar indicated a lot of them! It was fun to be back on some fish, and I took about equal numbers on the soft jerk, a Crippled Herring jigging spoon, and a 6-inch plastic eel on a jig head. I landed a dozen bass into the low 20s (inches, that is) and two bonus scup before I headed further down the bay. I trolled a stick-bait to the outlet by Menauhant Yacht Club with only a single swing-and-miss. I beached the boat at the outlet and expected good things in the strong outgoing tidal flow; but nothing happened here, and so I got back in the boat and continued out. Despite the strong northerly winds, Vineyard Sound was flat and navigable; and as I passed the jetty, I saw some surface explosions in shallow water a few hundred yards to the west. Three other boats surrounded these apparent Albies (!!!) as I skirted the edges, casting blind. After 15 minutes or so, nothing had happened, the fish were seemingly gone, and everybody involved dispersed. I motored over to the main Waquoit Bay outlet. After scouting here with no sign of fish, I pushed against the current and into the Bay; then crossed the Bay to the Great River Channel. From there, I turned up the Little River and into Hamblin Pond, where my girls flagged me down and oriented me to our dock-for-the-week. It was now about 6 PM and I urgently pointed out the frantic birds across the pond. A jumped in to join me, and a few minutes later she was casting a Hogy popper under the dipping birds. I threw the jig-and-jerk, but A confirmed that there were bass here with multiple missed strikes. I soon had a Jumpin' Minnow tied on, and a moment later we doubled up on bass between 20 and 23 inches. It was an awesome start to an awesome evening, as we enjoyed a couple more doubles and lots of action as the wind subsided. The biggest fish got away, and we missed more than we caught, but it had been a long time since we had enjoyed fun, productive and pleasant fishing together. Our week of telework was off to a good start! With the tally for the day stuck on 21 bass as the sky continued to darken, we called it a day. Note, I've been using using www.tideschart.com/United-States/Massachusetts/Dukes-County/Waquoit-Bay-entrance/Weekly/. (excerpted, below) to track local tides and make my plans. It's not 100% reflective of actual conditions in any particular spot at a given time, but it's been a valuable resource for envisioning what to expect. Sunday - Doubly Windy Date: September 20, 2020 Body of Water: Hamblin Pond - Mashpee, Massachusetts Moon Phase: Waxing gibbous; New Moon plus three days Tides: Pretty much falling throughout to Slack Low Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 6:20 AM - 8:30 AM Conditions: Clear, about 50 degrees F with strong NE wind, increasing sharply at 8 AM; water cooled down to about 59 degrees overnight I hit the water before sunrise, but I still felt as if I were late. And I was, but not totally; I enjoyed a solid hour of active bass chasing top-waters. Bites got scarce after 7:15 AM or so, but until that time, the Jumpin' Minnow worked along steep sod banks (especially points on these) drew out a number of aggressive bass. My first cast of the morning produced a solid bass of about 24 inches, and the largest of the morning challenged 26 inches. Once again, I moved a great number of fish compared to what I hooked, but each splashy show just increased the morning's enjoyment. By 8 AM, the wind was picking up from the north, and I resorted to a swim-bait for my fifth bass of the morning. With the entire day and week ahead of me, I called it quits at about 8:30; the wind was already sapping my energy! Date: September 20, 2020 Body of Water: Hamblin Pond - Mashpee, Massachusetts Moon Phase: Waxing gibbous; New Moon plus three days Tides: High and falling Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 3:30 PM - 5:30 PM; and again at 6:45 PM - 7:30 PM Conditions: Northerly wind continues at 20 (+) mph; clear and bright; calming after dinner to simply breezy Despite the strong wind and intense sun, I hit the water and set up a long drift. Although a small bass missed my Hogy popper on my first cast, it seemed as though my bait was lost in the wind-tossed water. I switched to swimming the swim-bait, and I caught a couple of 20-inch bass. But the highlight of this session was a nice 26-inch bass that ate a nose-hooked Original Hogy, slow-twitched over the same flat that had produced so much action the night before. I've not had a ton of experience or success with these plastic baits, but I know they have a tremendous reputation and a lot of upside (for me). It's alway's gratifying to catch fish on new baits or with new rigging techniques. After a dinner break, I hit the water again. The wind was diminishing, and I returned to this same flat to drift slowly with the breeze. Four stripers to 26 inches ate my Hogy popper and/or Rebel Jumpin' Minnow. The action died before full dark, as if a switch had been flipped. I'd had to work hard for them, but the day had produced a dozen stripers, 10 of which had eaten top-water baits. I think that's a pretty good day! Monday - Telework! Date: September 21, 2020 Body of Water: Hamblin Pond - Mashpee, Massachusetts Moon Phase: Waxing gibbous; New Moon plus four days Tides: Pretty much falling throughout Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 6 AM - 7:45 AM Conditions: Work day; clear and bright; surprisingly mild wind (almost calm) from the north; Air temp 50, water temp 58 degrees F I returned to the same central flat. Conditions were surprisingly calm, and there was a good amount of small bait visible. A bass exploded on my first cast with the Jumpin' Minnow and knocked it into the air. When it landed, another bass pounced on the bait, somehow missing the hooks. By the time I'd retrieved the lure back to the boat, I'd already missed five strikes! Strike Number 8 got converted into the first bass of the morning; this was my first pre-work fish since moving to Massachusetts. It was about time! The next hour was more of the same. Concentrating on sod points and current sweeps, I probably had 30 strikes (as well as a number of visible follows) to convert into three landed stripers. I was able to add a fourth on the Hogy Original; this fish provided a cool, visual sub-surface strike right at boat-side. At my "desk" at 8 AM, I noticed the wind was really picking up. I kept my head down for the work day, but it was still uncomfortably windy by late afternoon. I gave the water a rest and pursued other, familial, activities for the remainder of the evening. Tuesday - ALMOST Hookless Date: September 22, 2020 Body of Water: Hamblin Pond - Mashpee, Massachusetts Moon Phase: Waxing gibbous; New Moon plus five days Tides: High at 4:25 AM; falling throughout Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 6 AM - 7:45 AM Conditions: Overcast and still a 10+ mph breeze from the north; about 48 degrees F, water temp 56 - 57 degrees F. Wind subsided, swung slightly more westerly, and started to crank by 7:45 AM; sustained over 20 mph with gusts likely beyond 40 mph throughout the day Things started slowly, with only a couple of small, half-hearted swirls on my Jumpin' Minnow in the first half hour or so. Then, I either found a pod of fish along a sod bank, or they woke up, because between 6:30 and 7 AM, I enjoyed fast top-water action. Many casts resulted in multiple, frenzied strikes, but still and for whatever reason, most attacks missed the hooks! It took 11 strikes to finally hook up, and I only landed three bass to the low 20s in my first 25 (or more) strikes. While this wasn't super-productive, and the fish weren't large, this was fun, and that made it difficult to change gears. But I did; after having an explosive, nuclear bass miss my lure at least five times on a retrieve, I decided to switch baits; perhaps they would eat a fly trailing behind a popper? A few of them would; the pace of the action slowed, but my hooking percentage and rate increased. In the next twenty minutes I landed three stripers, including a nice, approximate 24-incher. All of these ate the fly (not the popper), and all bit on a pause or extended pause. Live and learn; this might be a good technique for less experienced guests when confronted with finicky fish. And I have to admit, it was pretty cool to see the popper get sucked under as if I were fishing for bluegills! With a six-fish morning under my belt, I was once again at my desk by 8 AM. This is not a bad way to live! Wednesday - AM - Change in the Air? Date: September 23, 2020 Body of Water: Hamblin Pond - Mashpee, Massachusetts Moon Phase: Waxing gibbous; New Moon plus six days Tides: High at 5:25 AM Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 6 AM - 8 AM Conditions: Mostly clear, about 50 degrees, and quite a bit calmer; winds still 10-12 mph, but more westerly. An expected stretch of good weather predicted, ahead. Water temperatures were down to 55 - 56 degrees F. Things started tough and slow, and they stayed that way; although I am spoiled if I think anything other than it was another great morning on the water. Sure, things were slower; there was little bird, bait or bass activity compared to previous days. In the first half hour, I only raised a single, tiny bass that took a wimpy swipe at my popper. At about 6:30 AM the first aggressive fish of the day chased my Jumpin' Minnow and crashed it several times without hooking up. I followed up with the popper-and-fly, but that, too, was ignored. Around the sod point, the same thing happened; but this fish ate my first follow-up cast with the fly. It was only a 20-incher, but I was on the board, just before sunrise. The next half hour produced decent action. A few fish ate the walking minnow, and another ate the fly. I farmed out one of the walker fish, so I ended with a total of four stripers for the morning. All were between 20 and 22 inches, big enough to keep me interested. Confronted with the first tough fishing of the trip (at least where boat control was not the primary issue), I thought long and hard about everything that had changed, and what the fish might be reacting to. The water had cooled (down to 55 degrees), the tide was higher, the wind direction had changed, the water was calmer, etc. I worked hard for my strikes, and I'd like to think that these fish won't "Fall Run" away from me during the rest of my stay. And did I convince myself that they were tucked a bit closer to the sod, and further into the cuts? Had I really encountered more fish on secondary point areas than the primary ambush points offered by the sod banks? I don't know. It will take a lot more time and experience for me to convince myself that I really know anything about these fish. Wednesday - PM - New Water with a Better Quality of Bass Date: September 23, 2020 Body of Water: Great River - Mashpee, Massachusetts Moon Phase: Waxing gibbous; New Moon plus six days Tides: High at 5:45 PM Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 4 PM - 7:30 PM Conditions: Much milder and still sunny, still breezy to windy (15 mph) from the southwest. 60 degree F water. I decided to forego the known conditions of Hamblin Pond and expand my radius of experience into the adjacent Great River and its confluence with the Little River and Waquoit Bay. My first stop was the grass-lined point at the junction of the two rivers, and my second cast with an aggressively retrieved Hogy popper was intercepted by a confident take. The fish pulled quite a bit of drag, and I maintained contact for several minutes without catching a good sight of what was clearly a good fish. Unfortunately, this spot was very exposed to the wind and I was blowing into a dock system; I was simultaneously running the boat, fighting the fish and powering up the GoPro. This was too much, and the hook pulled. This was a good, if still disappointing, start. I motored across the mouth of Great River and set up a drift along another grass-lined bank. I continued working the Hogy popper loud and quick, and a fat 25-incher provided a stunning strike within a few feet of the boat. My disappointment waned! After a lull, the bass really started biting as I worked my way upriver. I continued to focus on points and breaks in sod banks; these provided a plenitude of ambush points. Unlike the morning, for the most part these fish were feeding aggressively and with purpose. Between 5:30 and 6 PM or so, I added four more bass, all between 24 and 25.5 inches. They all ate next to the grass or visibly chased the bait out from the bank before committing to it. At about 6 PM, the action continued, but I started to encounter many more slaps and misses. The two fish I caught after 6 were also smaller, in the 20-inch range. But, overall, this area provided a quality experience for quality, light-tackle bass. Once again, the bite petered out and was done by sunset. As the wind died down, I started using the Jumpin' Minnow and popper-and-fly, only to be teased and taunted by fish that no longer seemed to want to really eat. With plenty of action and some bigger fish, I knew I had made a good decision to try some new water! Thursday - Calm...Too Calm? Date: September 24, 2020 Body of Water: Great River - Mashpee, Massachusetts Moon Phase: Waxing gibbous; Quarter Moon Tides: Empirically, end of Flood and Slack High Tide Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 6 AM - 8 AM Conditions: Too nice! Clear and 60 degrees F, warming and dead calm. Water temperatures between 58 and 59 degrees. I chose to continue to explore some new water, concentrating at the mouth of Great River below the confluence with Little River. I concentrated on sod and rock banks, and mostly threw the Jumpin' Minnow since it was so quiet and calm. When unwilling bass revealed themselves, I followed up with the popper-and-fly. Conditions were surprisingly quiet, with no birds and little bait visibly present. There were bass around, for sure, as once again the Jumpin' Minnow betrayed their positions, but most only slapped or chased, and only three fish ate all morning. Each contact was between 7 and 7:30 AM. I lost one after a long run (getting to be something of a bad habit), but was pleased to avoid a skunk and land two, one each on the Jumpin' Minnow and the other on the popper-and-fly as a follow-up presentation. Both fish were in the low 20-inch range. It really was a beautiful morning; but GoPro battery issues prevented me from taking any pictures. I guess I'll just have to remember it. Thursday - Seduced and Swindled? Date: September 24, 2020 Body of Water: Waquoit Bay, outlet, and Great River - Mashpee, Massachusetts Moon Phase: Waxing gibbous; Quarter Moon Tides: High Tide forecast for 6:45 PM; Flooding tide to Slack High Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 3:30 PM - 7:30 PM Conditions: Overcast, SW wind 10-12 mph, 70 degrees. Water temperatures increased to 62-63 degrees. The slow morning, calm day and allure of encountering some false albacore seduced me to try to get outside Waquoit Bay. But over the course of the afternoon, as clouds increased, so did the southwest wind. While it wasn't windy, it was ruffled and brisk; and by the time I made it outside the outlet, it was less than pleasant, and there were no signs of birds, fish or boats. After trolling a Yozuri swimming plug around the pier-heads for a couple of passes, I trolled into the bay and headed for Sage Lot Pond. Even though the tide was flooding, I didn't feel comfortable entering this pond; the clearance was too slim, and with the western wind blowing into this area, I had little room for error. So, I simply motored back to Great River. I thought I'd been swindled out of my time, but the bite inside was tough and slow to develop. I'd likely not missed much at all with my outside adventure. By 5:30, a subdued bite developed, and I missed or farmed out an epic number of consecutive bites (I was using the Jumpin' Minnow along sod banks in the more protected water, here). By 6:30, I'd landed just three bass (all 20 inches or smaller), two on this bait and one on the popper-and-fly. The bite dwindled thereafter, and so by 7 PM, I was motoring back home. Friday - "Offshore" Success Date: September 25, 2020 Body of Water: Hamblin Pond - Mashpee, Massachusetts Moon Phase: Waxing gibbous; Full Moon minus six days Tides: High at 7:35 AM Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 6 AM - 8 AM Conditions: Clear but then thin fog settled in. About 60 degrees, water was 61-62 degrees. Mild breeze from southwest. I stayed in Hamblin Pond for a short session, if only to save some energy for the week's final push! With the tide flooding, I tried the sod bank at the north of the pond, and immediately moved a fish with the Jumpin' Minnow. After a hot and splashy chase, it showed no interest in my popper-and-fly as a follow-up presentation. And so the stage was set for a good chunk of the morning. At about 7 AM, a bird and bass ruckus halfway across the pond caught my attention. I motored over gingerly, and immediately connected with my first striper (20") of the day. It had plucked the plug off the surface with certainty in the energetic, but short-lived, feeding session. I moved from that feed directly to another and repeated these results, but this time with several misses, too. Returning to the sod banks, I endured another series of follows and misses. Again, all the fish I moved subsequently ignored the popper-and-fly. At about 7:30, a third feed across the way attracted my attention. It was slightly windier now and the surface was more ruffled; I switched to the Hogy popper. In about 10 minutes, I converted six strikes into five stripers to 23 inches. When this action died, I moved to the central flat that had produced so many fish earlier in the week. I drifted, casting my popper, but nothing moved. No birds; no bass; it was time to go to work! All seven fish came on the top-water plugs, away from the bank. All were betrayed by their surface activity and birds. My hooking rate was way up in these "offshore" locations (it's a pond and the water was never much deeper than five feet). I love it when the birds can lead me to the fish! Friday - Rest and Relaxation Date: September 25, 2020 Body of Water: Hamblin Pond - Mashpee, Massachusetts Moon Phase: Waxing gibbous; Full Moon minus six days Tides: High just before 8 PM and so incoming tide for the duration Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone at first, but joined by A and K Target: Striped Bass Time: 3:30 PM - 6:30 PM Conditions: 80 degrees, clear and just about calm; water temperature 64-65 degrees I changed things up, at least a little bit, by replacing the popper-and-fly with a five-inch, white fluke on a weighted swim-bait hook, and preparing to replace the Jumpin' Minnow with a slightly smaller walking popper. Perhaps these would be more edible from the stripers' perspective. I never got the chance to throw the smaller popper (which had been so good for me in the last couple of years with Cape Cod estuary bass). Under sunny, clear skies, I quickly scored two very nice bass (24 and 26 inches) on the weighted fluke. Why had it taken me so long to even try this presentation? I have long loved soft plastic jerks, and this is such a common rigging method. Why had I not gone there previously? Regardless, the weighted fluke stayed tied on for the remainder of the trip. I liked the popper-and-fly, but I liked the higher quality fish, the faster pace of fishing and the hooking-and-holding power of the fluke more. At about 4:30, I picked the girls up at the dock and proceeded down river. After a couple of unsuccessful stops, I found a group of active fish along a sod bank. A pair of small bass crushed the Jumpin' Minnow and were landed; a few others missed it. For whatever reason, by 5:30 PM, the bite was off; and by 6:30 PM, we were headed back to the dock. I'd cut the session short (by my standards), but why push an evening where everything had gone so beautifully? Saturday - Super Grand Slam Date: September 26, 2020 Body of Water: Little River and Vineyard Sound - Mashpee, Massachusetts Moon Phase: Waxing gibbous; Full Moon minus five days Tides: High at 8:43 AM Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass and False Albacore Time: 6 AM - 2:30 PM Conditions: Calm, with generally southerly (SE to SW) winds 7 mph or less; alternately clear and foggy; water temperatures 63 - 65 degrees F Even though the previous evening had been pretty slow, I had all day in front of me, and I chose to start at the confluence of the Little and Great Rivers. In the calm, I started with the Jumpin' Minnow and immediately moved a fish at the same grassy point where I'd lost the good one a few days prior. But conditions remained slow, regardless of the bank I fished. A single 22-incher came aboard, and a few others swirled and missed. None showed any further interest in the fluke, either. Meanwhile, a parade of boats went out, into Waquoit and beyond, likely looking to scratch their Albie Itch. At 7:15, it was DEAD calm and getting bright and too warm for my comfort. The striper fishing was off and likely to get tougher. I had my own albie dreams, and it only made sense to take advantage of the conditions and make a concerted effort to find some funny fish. With nothing evident at the outlet and no concentration of boats, and with calm seas to sail into, I went in search of rips, birds, boils, busts or anything else of interest that I could find. I arrived at Bardow's Shoal at just about slack tide; again, nothing was evident. I decided to use my slack time to travel the several miles to the east end of Succonnessett Shoal. By now it was foggy, with about 1/4-mile visibility. No rips, birds or fish were evident, but I decided to troll with the building westerly current. I started with a Yozuri stick bait (shallower) and a Rapala X-Rap (15 foot model; deeper). I varied speed between 2 and 4 mph, but generally settled in between 2.5 and 3.5 mph. It didn't take long for the deeper bait to get smacked, but I did not hook up. Fortunately, just tens of yards later, in about 23 feet of water, this same bait got eaten again; success! Well, of a sort; it was neither the bluefish I expected nor the funny fish I wanted; it was just a very decent and aggressive Black Sea Bass. It would have been a beautiful gyotaku model, but the season is closed, and so it swam off. Since the deeper bait had now been hit multiple times while the Yozuri was silent, I switched the Yozuri out for a very old-school Rapala Sliver in a Wonder Bread coloration. It looked like a sand eel to me, and I knew it would get a few feet deeper than the Yozuri had been swimming. I don't think I've tied that lure on since 1991 or so, but it immediately sprang into action. This particular turn in the shoal, facing into the current, produced at least four similar sea bass, a 4-or-5-pound bluefish, and a giant sea robin. These were all concentrated in about 20 - 23 feet of water. By now, a rip was forming on the western portion of the shoal. I expanded my trolling pattern and emphasized the shallow and deep sides of the rip. I caught a few more sea bass, but as singles and not in a concentrated area. Both lures produced equally. By 11:30, the fog had lifted, and I expected peak flow from Waquoit outlet. I relocated, but once again, there was no evidence of fish here; I set up my trolling pattern again, focusing on the outlet and proximity. Speaking of flukes, how about catching a pair of flounder while trolling stick-baits near bottom? Yes, the lures were alternately digging or near bottom, but a pair of fluke rose up and ate them. Both were from about 19 - 20 feet of water. I continued with the current to the west, finding it difficult to call it a day. Just past Green Pond outlet, I had edged out to slightly deeper water (25-30 feet) and the Sliver went off for the last time. A spunky, drag-pulling blue came aboard. It was slightly smaller than the first, but added to the fun of the day. I continued my troll past the Great Pond outlet without another hit. Weeds were becoming an issue with the slacking tide. It had been a long day, and I had a long ride and lots of cleaning up in front of me. I saved time for one last pass by the Waquoit outlet, but I was done catching fish for the day. Sunday - Peace and Calm Date: September 27, 2020 Body of Water: Hamblin Pond - Mashpee, Massachusetts Moon Phase: Waxing gibbous; Full Moon minus four days Tides: Incoming; High Tide just before 10 AM Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 6 AM - 8 AM Conditions: Clear and calm; about 65 degrees F; water temperature of 66 degrees What I thought might be current seams from the incoming tide, or perhaps ruffles from the very mild breeze turned out to be a River of Bait from the pond's outlet and up into the main "flat" where I'd enjoyed good fishing at the start of the week. I stopped in the pre-dawn darkness and started casting the Jumpin' Minnow. I was surprised to move no fish. I moved further into the familiar waters of the flat, surrounded by waypoints from previous encounters, and continued to cast with hope. I even mixed in the weighted Fluke and a swim-bait; but all was eerily quiet. I moved to a prominent sod point on the pond's eastern shore and moved a small bass with the first cast of the Jumpin' Minnow. I followed up with the Fluke, killed my retrieve and missed a tap; but when I resumed my retrieve, I got crushed by a nice bass. At about 24 inches, it would be the biggest of the day, but five more would follow. Unfortunately, it was too dark for the GoPro, and the pictures weren't worth saving. But I know, a 24-inch striper on light tackle, in shallow water in the dark, is a good recipe for fun. A few casts later, the same Fluke fooled a fine 21-incher with the same attitude. It was still before sunrise, and it was already a good day! I had to hunt and peck to find the next group of bass. I followed that River of Bait from the outlet to the inlet, and tried an isolated offshore island point that almost intersected the parade of baitfish. Again, the first bass missed my Jumpin' Minnow, but two 20-inchers ate the Fluke, just fine. At about 7 AM, I started looking out for "offshore" bird action. I heard, rather than saw, the first ruckus, and an aggressive bass inhaled the Jumpin' Minnow top-water bait. It was another 20, but still fun. A few minutes later, another group surface 50 yards away, and a twin ate this same bait on my first cast on the edges of the commotion. My plastic bait slid up the line, and it was a cool sight to see a second bass chase and repeatedly explode upon this hookless bait, as my hooked bass frantically fought the pressure of my rod. Shortly thereafter, the sun intensified and the remaining wind fled; with action dwindling and a house to pack, I returned to the dock at 8 AM. I'd encountered just a few fish this morning, but they had been in an agreeable, eating mood. And, other than the very first daytime session of the trip, this was the only session where a subsurface presentation out-performed one of my top-waters. And, I should recognize the multiple owls talking among themselves as I prepared the boat and headed quietly across the pond. Sunday - Bonus Session Date: September 27, 2020 Body of Water: Waquoit Bay - Mashpee, Massachusetts Moon Phase: Waxing gibbous; Full Moon minus six days Tides: Just about High Tide Boat: amybaby22 With: K and A Target: Striped Bass Time: 10 AM -10:30 AM Conditions: A bit overcast, southerly wind, mild chop; 65 degree water; birds! A and K joined me for what I thought was going to be a quiet boat ride on Waquoit Bay to end our trip. We checked a couple of outlets dumping into the Bay for future reference and investigation, and we were motoring up to the northern extent of the Bay when I noticed the birds; I quickened our pace and when we arrived, there were plenty of fish on top! We all fired off casts, and we all had a chance, but nothing came aboard before things quieted. We blind casted for a bit, and the action resumed 100 yards across. This time, the fish had bait pinned along a dropoff from 3 to about 10 feet of water. These fish seemed a little hotter, and the action was more prolonged. K was the first "in" with a Hogy popper, but seconds later, I hooked up, too, on the Jumpin' Minnow. Mine was the last striper of the trip at about 21 or 22 inches, K's was a fun and scrappy bluefish. They both hit the net at the same time, for a fun double! I caught my own bluefish a cast or two later on my Jumpin' Minnow. I'm not going to say they fight harder than stripers; but they fight different, and seem faster. I enjoyed the variety! Now, it was time to go home! What do I have to say about this? This was such a good week, from multiple perspectives. It was nice to have a change of scenery, and it was awesome to do so much fishing without having to expend any time off from work. Time with family (close and extended) was pleasant and valuable, we enjoyed many good meals together, and the fishing itself was pretty darn good! Once again, I "failed" in my Albie Quest, but I ran into some pretty good fishing along the way. The week was born from a discussion of how the Coronavirus pandemic had ironically disrupted my (now local) fall fishing desires. But, I am mostly fortunate to have a partner who can envision such measures, and who both conceived the idea of teleworking from the Cape, as well as found the house for us. This, or a close version of this, might really become an annual event! But in the meantime, I am six stripers short of 200 for the season. I can't end the season yet! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: September 6, 2020 Body of Water: Great Harbor at Woods Hole, Massachusetts Moon Phase: Waning gibbous; Full plus four days Tides: Just about Low at first, flooding throughout and then the turn of tide Boat: None, pier fishing With: Alone Target: Little Tunny, a.k.a. False Albacore Time: 5:45 AM - 2:15 PM Conditions: Low at 5:30 AM; High at 11:45 AM; Clear and bright; 60-75 degrees F; becoming windy from the SW With a day to try to make something happen from shore, I decided to try False Albies at Woods Hole. Certainly, Cape Cod on a long weekend day marking the end of summer is a choice potentially fraught with problems, but the stubby public pier on Great Harbor was a pretty safe bet, so long as I arrived early enough. The small amount of available real estate, the limited but enforced metered parking and the known arrival of funny fish in the area made it a reasonably attractive choice, if still a long-shot for success. Plus, it seems that chasing Albies may have become my saltwater version of choosing to fish for muskellunge in Michigan. Be in the right place with the right presentation on well-cared-for gear, and good things can happen. Otherwise, be prepared for a long slog! Finally, while I am not really tuned in to the albies' behavior relative to tide and current at Woods Hole, it looked like I would be able to experience a slack-to-flooding tide corresponding with daybreak, and that sounded good to me. Woods Hole tides are available here, at www.usharbors.com/harbor/massachusetts/woods-hole-great-harbor-ma/tides/#monthly-tide-chart After the 90-minute drive, I arrived to find myself second on the pier. While I could not claim the coveted pier tip, I settled in comfortably on a flat-ish casting rock about 60% of the way out. By 6 AM, another half-dozen or so folks joined the chase. So far, my planning had paid off. I had three rods rigged with a small epoxy jig, a 7-inch amber Hogy, and a slim plastic eel on a jighead. All three offered good cast ability, could be worked at a variety of speeds, and could cover the water column from top to bottom. Early talk on the pier indicated a strong presence of finicky tunny the previous day at about 9 AM, and so things remained promising; this would correspond to the end of the strongest portion of the tidal flood currents, and I intended to be ready when the fish arrived. They seemingly arrived early, as the most showings occurred between 7 and 7:30 AM or so. Most were well out of casting distance, but the pier had a few moments of excitement when the fish got marginally close. Two small school bass and a Spanish Mackerel hit the deck collectively, but nobody hooked a tunoid. A fleet of boats and kayaks pursued the obvious fish throughout the morning, but I didn't see or hear any of them hooking up, either. By 10 AM or so, pier-bound fishers starting looking for breakfast or another spot. I chose to stay and wait out both the conditions and the fish. If the flood wasn't magic, perhaps high slack or the ebb would be (?) I continued to cast until 2:15 PM or so, when my body just couldn't take it any more. The hours between 10 AM and 2:15 PM had been exceedingly slow. It didn't make any sense to beat myself up any longer. I left the fish to a young couple who were just arriving, full of enthusiasm for their first Albie. What do I have to say about this? I can't call it a skunk, because I did catch a seven-inch snapper blue on one of my first shakedown casts with a slowly rolled epoxy jig. Such fish used to represent the entirety of my saltwater experience, which was okay at the time; but my expectations have apparently grown. Regardless, it was nice to encounter such a fish, it has been years since I've seen one this size. With bluefish stocks "down", I'll take this fish and its peers as a collective good sign. Moreover, I may have had a chance at a Spanish Mack. During the active period I did have a "thunk" almost at the base of the rocks, and my plastic eel was definitely torn. But, the day was certainly about tunny, and they were conspicuously absent, again. I fished hard! I tried a variety of epoxy jig sizes, colors and retrieves, but I also spent serious amounts of time with the plastics and a sub-surface Crippled Herring. I've learned from my previous two years of unsuccessful effort that I cannot rely on being a one-trick fisher with these fish; they simply might not be showing, and/or they might be finicky! Getting old is difficult! I seriously wrenched my shoulder while guiding myself along the pier but holding onto the cable rail. I avoided passing out and shock, but barely. And, when I recovered enough to start fishing, I managed to slip and fall on this shoulder again. At least the consultation with the surgeon is already set up! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: August 2, 2020 Body of Water: Crane Beach - Ipswich, Massachusetts Moon Phase: Waxing gibbous; Full - one day Tides: A little past High at first, falling throughout Boat: None - surf fishing With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 1:45 PM - 3:15 PM Conditions: Mostly cloudy, 80's, falling tide, water reportedly 63 degrees F If the girls were going to enjoy a beach day, I was going to enjoy a bit of surf fishing! I hiked directly to the pile of rocks I'd last visited on this beach, and I continued just a bit further. At this higher stage of out-flowing tide, there was an assortment of boats and shore-bound fishermen here. I positioned myself such that I could reach some flowing, deeper water with a 3/4-ounce jig with sand eel trailer. Ten minutes in, just as my bottom-hugging jig swung with the current to the outermost edge of the boulder field, I instinctively struck on a faint "tap". A small striper in the mid-teens (inches, that is) came to hand at just about 2 PM. Twenty minutes later, just a bit further down-current, I replicated this presentation successfully and found another biter in exactly the same kind of spot. This one, too, was only 15 or 16 inches long. Meanwhile, I'd seen just a single fish (another small striper?) taken by boat fisherman. I alternated several other lures into the rotation (popper, Crippled Herring, Hogy epoxy jig), but was unable to move anything else. With the tide falling and the wind picking up, I was losing touch with my baits. I was losing my confidence, too. I hoofed it back down the beach to join my family for the rest of the afternoon. What do I have to say about this? It was simply nice to connect with a couple of stripers under such tough conditions. Once again, I flubbed the photo ops; but I probably have enough bad pictures of small fish! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways 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 |
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