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Date: September 24 and 25, 2022 Body of Water: Woods Hole - Falmouth, Massachusetts Moon Phase: New Moon Boat: None, shore fishing from stubby pier With: Alone Target: False Albacore Time: 6 AM - 11 AM both days Conditions: High tides at 8-9 AM. Super clear and NNW wind in excess of 25 mph on Saturday; Overcast and westerly wind about 10-15 mph on Sunday. A fish could have made a mistake on either day; both were fishy in their own rights. Bait, birds and moving water were all evident and in abundance. The chop favored a fish making a mistake as opposed to shunning a presentation. But catching a false albacore from land is a difficult proposition! Saturday was slow, with just a single, fleeting chance at some passing fish. The bird activity stayed a few hundred yards away, and waters within casting reach seemed devoid of predators, despite the clouds of silversides and rivers of peanut bunker. Still, I worked hard with epoxy jigs, metal spoons (Clark and Crippled Herring), Albie Snax and a Popper-and-Fly. Other than snagging silversides and peanuts from the dense schools of bait, I didn't touch a single fish. A few other casters joined me to get similarly skunked. Sunday seemed even fishier with overcast skies, a more moderate westerly breeze and moderating temperatures. And it was, for super-selective stripers! I got distracted by these blitzing fish, and slowed down for them. Still, I got no positive response as I changed through baits and colors to include a Hogy Slow-tail and ultimately a white Hogy worm on a jig-head. Sporadic feeds popped up, again usually outside casting range, but with at least a few being reachable. I know at lies a few funny fish saw my lure during these, but to no good avail. Sunday's winner was the guy on the end of the pier. He was there upon my arrival in the dark, and he took advantage of this superior position. He scored a few stripers from the blitzes on a 3-inch white Al Gags swim-bait. This same lure attracted a few shots at albies, too. Even the bass preferred this bait raced just under the surface. I may have learned a couple of other things, too. Fishing here was better on the falling tide? I didn't see this, but I heard it a few times. Afternoons? Maybe, but my schedule didn't allow for me to try. Go Big instead of small and natural? Perhaps, but the one guy catching was using a small bait. The Popper-and-Fly (or Egg- or Float-) is real! I saw a few variations on this and a local fishing celebrity scored a striper on this while blind casting. I was in the game when I was casting this. Once again, I left Woods Hole in a humbled and demoralized state. Once again, I am already thinking about next year. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways
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Date: September 26, 2021 Body of Water: Woods Hole - Falmouth, Massachusetts Moon Phase: Full Moon plus six days; waning gibbous moon Tides: Low Tide at 5:50 AM Boat: Shore fishing from short rock jetty With: Alone Target: False Albacore Time: 6:00 AM - 9:30 AM Conditions: Rain at first, but then begrudgingly giving way to clearing skies; about 60 degrees F; brisk Northerly wind; evident bait This was my first and only chance to catch an Albie for the season; I was first on the pier for the morning and staked out the prime real estate at its end. I carried four rods, rigged and ready with different presentations. I was hoping to make the most of any chances that came my way. Snapper blues really seemed to like the peanut bunker-shaped Clark spoon. Small sea bass, too, as this lure probably accounted for a dozen, combined, over the first part of the morning. They also seemed to like the Patrick Sebile Hyper-lastic Spin-Dart on a 1/4-ounce jig head; these were ultimately torn apart by small blues. A small Hogy epoxy jig (green) garnered little attention, and a white Albie Snax plastic stick-bait was a double mouthful for the blues. Two pods of crashing Albies presented themselves within casting distance. The first, at 7:30 AM and with just a few fish evident, was at great distance, but I managed at least one prime cast into their zone. The second, at 8 AM and with many more fish obviously present, came to within 30 feet. This pod looked like a sure thing, but there was no indication of interest in my epoxy jig (or the presentations of others). I switched to the Albie Snax for my next cast, but got halved by a blue almost immediately. And then the albies were apparently gone for the day. Even the blues and sea bass quit biting. By 9:30, when I had to leave, my other pier-mates had already given up. Quite a few kayaks and center consoles remained on post throughout Great Harbor, but all seemed quiet; even quieter than the rest of the morning in which I'd seen zero albies hooked. What do I have to say about this? I got at least two casts in front of Albies, and that's more than I could have done from home. My baits were ignored, as were the presentations of my two companions on the pier. Perhaps the funny fish were simply in super-selective mode, or perhaps there simply weren't enough around to have one make a mistake... Regardless, it was nice to try for these again, and it was good to know that I least had a chance of connecting with one of these elusive fish. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: September 7, 2021 Body of Water: Plymouth Bay - Duxbury, Massachusetts Moon Phase: New Moon Tides: Just about Low at first (6:34 AM), flooding throughout Boat: Captain Dave's Carolina Skiff With: Baymen Guide Service Target: Striped Bass Time: 6:15 AM - 11:30 AM Conditions: Beautiful, bright and clear; about 65-75 degrees with a mild westerly wind. Water temperatures falling to 67 degrees. Tons of birds and bait! So, this was different. On New Year's Day, I noticed a post on this guide's web page; he had an opening on September 7 due to a rescheduled customer. I'd been following Baymen Guide Service ( www.baymenlife.com ) since I'd moved to Massachusetts in late 2019, and I emailed my interest in joining Captain Dave for the day. A few hours later, the trip was confirmed. A lot has changed since the booking. My move from suburban Boston to Maine somewhat erased the trip's purpose (to learn new, local water), complicated the logistics a bit (I spent the night in a local dive), and I entered the day thinking it would be a one-off. But at day's end, I knew I wanted more of this port! Captain Dave proved himself to be a true, rugged individualist, but also a generous, affable boat-mate. He was well-prepared and smart enough to launch before the New Moon low tide that left a few boats high and dry for a few hours. He kept me on fish for the entire morning and seemed to really appreciate his time on the water. Our allotted time zipped by. Here's the Captain's report: www.baymenlife.com/27-fish-on-fly-lt-2/ I concur, although I think he's overly kind with his assessment of my fly-fishing! Here's my account; it's something of a blur because it was all new water for me. And, since I wasn't running the boat, I was reacting to different cues. We ran almost directly to Bug Light just outside of Plymouth Harbor. From this vantage point, Captain Dave surveyed the scene and options; and moving further into Plymouth Harbor rose to the top based on bird activity. As we moved in, I could finally see what he had glassed; several groups of terns and gulls working in super shallow water adjacent to sandbars. Throughout the day, Captain Dave was the first to see/notice signs of bird, bait, and bass activity. When Captain Dave showed me his swim-bait retrieve/technique, I was mildly shocked. In my experience, low-and-slow wins; the fast and aggressive "Baymen Bounce" was like using a jerk-bait while on a cocktail of coke and steroids. But I quickly proved to myself that it works! Eel grass in less than a foot of water does not mix with swim-baits; and when I switched to a bone Spook, I quickly put a half dozen bass in the boat. With such a target-rich environment, I decided it was time to pick up the long wand; the one with the popper! It took perhaps a half hour and a change in location to a slightly deeper edge before one ate; but this 25-incher was certainly my biggest fly-rod striper to date! I enjoyed my efficiencies with the Spook better, though, and we located and chased down several groups of fish. Many casts with the Spook would result in multiple strikes before the hooks found flesh. There were plenty of chases, swings and misses, and outright rejections, too. We saw some bigger fish, and the day's biggest (26.5 inches) came aboard. At about 8:30 AM, the tail slaps clearly outnumbered actual strikes. I switched to a Heddon Knucklehead popper; that fooled a couple before that, too was ignored. For the rest of the trip, a four-inch white swim-bait shined. We gave others opportunities, but white outproduced others by a noticeable margin. With fewer birds now working, we did more blind-casting and searching. Seemingly any current seam held fish, and I enjoyed working a 9-inch Sluggo to visible fish along one scum line. Once again, "fast and aggressive" illicited more interest than "slow and vulnerable", but the fish were obviously getting more selective. Now committed to working the Sluggo high and fast, I had a group of fish chasing it down. One was a big bass!! Fish on! This turned out to be a nice, 7- or 8-pound bluefish, a great fight on the medium power TFO Inshore rod. It was now about 9:30 AM and we thought we would try some deeper/structure fishing. Somehow that turned into targeting more shallow bass with birds inside the barrier beach near Duxbury. While the Spook generated a few swings and misses, the white swim-bait burned near top provided the most connections. We encountered one of the most intense blitzes I've ever been party to. A thousand bass or more had two-inch peanut bunker pinned to the grass edge at the mouth of a creek. This fish moved quickly, and I only pulled two out. We followed the school down the shoreline, where I presented a variety of small streamers to the fish. I had lots of follows, but no takes. We finished the day fishing deeper water (up to nearly 30 feet) near the edge of a rocky island with bucktail jigs. We were hoping for one more, larger fish. My only hit was from a small fluke; we called it a (great!) day. What do I have to say about this? This simply turned out better than I expected or I could have hoped. It was an intense morning of fishing with more visible targets and action than the rest of my season combined. While I left a few fish on the table (pinched barbs and flubbed landings), I didn't miss many. With a total of 25 stripers (including a half dozen or more over 24 inches and a fly-rod PB) and a strong bluefish landed, and the visual prospect of encountering bigger fish, what more could anybody have asked for? I'm already thinking about my next fall trip to these harbors. It might be in a few weeks, or it might be next September. But I do believe that I will be back! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: June 18, 2021 Body of Water: Barnstable Harbor - Barnstable, Massachusetts Moon Phase: Waxing quarter Tides: High Tide at about 5:50 AM; Low Tide at about 12:30 PM Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 6:45 AM - 1:15 PM Conditions: About 60 - 75 degrees; super clear and bright; still unit 11 AM when a stiff southerly breeze commenced; water temperatures from 62 - 64 degrees. I welcomed a new State Holiday to my calendar - Juneteenth! What better way to enjoy* the day than hitting the water on a beautiful weekday? It was too nice a day for the fishing to hold up; I struggled to land seven stripers to just 24 inches. The bright conditions and weaker, mid-moon tides perhaps made the stripers more selective; and there was very little bird activity other than small terns at the very end of my day. I found most of my fish around 7:30 AM, on a micro-rip on the down-current side of Horseshoe Shoal. There were lots of sand eels evident across the shoal, just not much working them! I pulled five stripers to about 20 inches from a deeper hole just up-current of the bar forming this rip during the outgoing tide. By 8:30 AM, I had abandoned these fish and the shallows to search the depths for bigger bass. My first drop with a Ben Parker Magnum Flutter Spoon took place in about 28 feet of water near Marker 6 and was intercepted by an eager bass. I saw another boat pulling wire land a couple of keepers nearby, but I had a tough time controlling the boat, avoiding traffic and getting my spoon to the bottom during this time of peak flow. By 9 AM, I was trolling deep-diving stick-baits down the channel. I quickly caught a small striper from about 22 feet of water on the Rapala Magnum XRap 15. This rod bounced again as I proceeded down the channel with the current, but the hooks failed to find flesh. Both hits came near waypoints marking previous success. When I got past Marker 1 without further success, I decided to jig the spoon nearby based on marks on bottom. But without action, I switched to trolling Cape Cod Bay. At 10 AM, I checked my sea worms; I had allowed them to dry out?!?!? So, my initial plan to troll Sandy Neck Beach with tubes-and-worms was replaced by trolling faster with cranks. I ran to the west, so I could troll back to port with the current and the building wind at my back. I soon encountered multiple schools of menhaden (between 40 and 50 feet of water), but each school was happy and not attracting any predators. Dog walkers, stick-baits and slow jigs were all ignored. I continued my run to the west before setting up my spread including the Rapala Magnum Rap 15 and a new, Yozuri 20. I first trolled in from 50 feet, and then bounced along the beach, now heading east, between 22 and 45 feet of water. My trolling speeds varied from 2.5 to over 4 mph. I found more bunker, but only a few marks, and never had a whiff of a strike. By Noon, I was near the channel and the wind was honking. My initial thought of trolling for a big, lazy, slack-tide bass was hampered and ultimately kiboshed by the wind, boat control and recreational boat traffic. So, I picked up the spread and ran inland, but stopping to visit Marker 6. The wind was working against the slow, incoming tide, and I was able to control my spoon in 40 feet of water. I got slammed by the best fish of the day, and approximate 24-incher that I dropped boat side. Passing traffic made this spot difficult to enjoy, though, so I followed some terns onto the adjacent flats. They were diving on tiny bait right along the edge of the flat and adjacent channel. I saw a few small bass, but couldn't find any biters (spoon and fluke). I was back at the ramp at 1:15 PM. I had a lot of chores ahead of me; amybaby22 was going to Maine! What do I have to say about this? I was a little surprised at how much the fishing had changed in just a few days; but it really wasn't a catching kind of day. Still, I had enough success, and with an extra day in my weekend, I didn't mind the extra efforts that I made. The Flutter Spoon fish are always enjoyable, and this was my first success with these in a year. I do need to be able to expand my use of these, because they are exceedingly effective when conditions are right. I suspect that this setup will be in the boat at most times for the summer in Casco Bay, Maine. Tough days such as this keep one humble, and make the surprisingly good days that much sweeter. I'm glad I don't know what to expect (with any certainty) from any given trip. *Enjoy, as compared to Celebrate. I know there are more important ways to celebrate/commemorate/acknowledge this day than to go fishing! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: June 13, 2021 Body of Water: Barnstable Harbor and Channel - Barnstable, Massachusetts Moon Phase: New Moon plus 3 days; waxing crescent Tides: Low Tide at about 8:40 AM; generally fished the bottom half of the tide Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 6:30 AM - 12:30 PM Conditions: About 60 - 75 degrees; clear and bright; steady WSW winds about 10 mph; water was greenish clear and about 62 degrees F in the harbor; and green and 58 degrees F in the channel and with the incoming tide With SW wind in the forecast, I decided to hunt for bigger fish on the Cape's north side instead of being penned up in the south-side estuaries. Plus, I was due for a dose of Barnstable; it has always treated me well during my infrequent visits! The launch was not crowded at all for such a beautiful Sunday, and I left the ramp by 6:30 AM. I'd left some low-light conditions on the table, but I can only get up so early; and somehow a wild goose chase for gas and a gaffe with my GPS mapping ate 45 minutes or so go prime fishing time. Conditions were almost still, with just a light breeze ruffling the water as I entered Barnstable Harbor, proper. I was without a clear plan of execution, but my planning had equipped me for lots of situations. The outgoing tide still had two hours, so I was thinking about the main channel outlet. But as I approached navigation Marker 8 in the harbor, I could see some raucous birds over the water. They weren't diving, but they sure were watching the water and excited. I approached slowly as I grabbed my spinning rod with a Smack-it Jr. popper tied on. I heard the first couple of bass before I saw them on top; and my first cast was interrupted by a nice, 25-inch striper. And there were still plenty popping and several nice-sized followers behind mine! Keying largely on visible current seems while moving around with the concentration of most active birds, I had almost an hour of excellent popper fishing. At first I was alone, but over time my bent rods (and the birds and the splashes of feeding bass) attracted others. When the bite slowed a bit after 8 or 9 bass, I switched to a fluke (with a weighted swim-bait hook) to reveal and catch several more. I caught a feisty, 5-pound bluefish, too. Collectively, the bass were all nice fish, averaging about 25 inches but ranging to 30! Each fish revealed many others, too, through follows, chases and missed strikes, so it seemed like I'd had even more action. A couple of the sighted bass looked big enough to keep me interested for as long as this could possibly last. By about 8:15 AM, the bite had gone quiet; slack tide was in the next half hour. I decided to troll cranks to the outlet, and quickly picked up two small stripers and a flounder on the Rapala Sliver Needlefish (as well as a couple of drive-bys on the Rapala X-Rap Mag 15). Now out by Marker 1, I decided to reverse directions with the tide and troll back into the channel. I set out a single tube-and-worm combination on a lead-core outfit. It looked and felt like this was getting hit. I never hooked up, though, even though the tube came back clean a couple of times. While I was marking some fish at depth, these might have been sea bass or flounder; a lot of folks in this area appeared to be fishing with bait. Nothing too good happened during this time; I was simply putting in my work trying to figure out new techniques and locations. But by 11 AM, boat traffic was really ramping up, and I found myself thinking about the ramp. I decided to head in and perhaps beat the afternoon rush. As I was motoring up the harbor, once again I spied active birds. This time, instead of being along the deep channel, the flock was over shallow water, where Horseshoe Shoal was flooding. Once again, I approached slowly, got within casting range of busting bass, and scored on my first cast. The 29-inch bass absolutely inhaled the popper and fought well in the shallow (3 feet?) water. These feeds were more sporadic than in the morning, the shallow water prohibited quick changes in location, and there was a lot more competition for these fish. I ended up doing better with the fluke than with the popper, and I pulled multiple bass from a mini-rip where the flood tide flowed over the edge of the shoal. The stripers were right where you'd expect them to be! I ended the day with 20 stripers landed, as well as a blue, the flounder and a sea bass. It had been a really good day, and I didn't even encounter any issues at the ramp! What do I have to say about this? As good as this fishing was, and as pleased as I was to see local Captain Dave Peros motor by on his beautiful Katie G, I can only imagine how much better the fishing might have been elsewhere. A number of boats simply disappeared on the horizon, and I know there are some truly large stripers in Cape Cod Bay right now; this just wasn't the day for me to push my little skiff too hard. Plus, if I start questioning the value of a day on the water where bass to 30 inches are providing fast action on light tackle... there's something wrong! The mid-day blitz was really my first success here on a rising tide, and I took note. It was fun to quickly cover water and find some quality fish in new places. Someday, I'll catch the tail end of the flood, and explore some of the back country available here; I'll probably enjoy trying to develop some additional, locally productive patterns. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: June 10, 2021 Body of Water: Plum Island Surf - Newbury, Massachusetts Moon Phase: New Moon Tides: Low Tide at about 6:50 AM Boat: None With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 5:15 AM - 7:30 AM Conditions: About 60 - 65 degrees; calm with NNW wind less than 6 mph; flat; hazy; quiet I've not been sleeping well, and with June's New Moon upon us, I decided to leverage these conditions into a worthwhile bass or experience. At 5:15 AM I walked onto the beach and headed north, towards the river mouth. The most distinct sand point was already occupied by a fisherman, and so I stopped at a less prominent point-and-hole. After a few casts with an A07 Diamond Jig, I switched to a Jumpin' Minnow. A few adult bunker were evident, but both my lure and they remained untouched. I decided to switch to the Al Gag 4-inch swim-bait from the previous session. I was interested in larger bass, but I needed to know if any stripers were present. Since none had revealed themselves otherwise, I felt like this swimmer was my best choice to either find some fish or eliminate this water. At 5:50, I was working the hole adjacent to this subtle point with the swim-bait. I felt my first contact but swung and missed. This repeated itself again at about 6 AM. I continued my search to the south, but had started working back north when a fat, bright 18-inch striper ate the lure with confidence at 6:20 AM (Low tide minus one-half hour). I was on the board, but flubbed the fish while attempting a photo; this could have been my third photographed shore-fish of the week, and should have completed my Striper Cup limit for the week. However, it swam away, healthy but not yet photographed. And that was it for fishing action! Soon after this catch, I switched to a larger sand-eel jig, hoping to entice a larger bass. That didn't happen; whether because of bait choice, or the dead low slack tide, I don't know. With such slow fishing, a lot on my mind, and a 10 AM appointment at my desk, I pulled the plug a bit earlier than I had expected. But I was still pleased with this before-work session! It had certainly been worth the effort! What do I have to say about this? Other than a few bunker and a single sighting of a lone seal, there wasn't much going on. Maybe I was lucky to have contacted any fish; or perhaps I had made the wrong choice in going north when I hit the beach, instead of south to a more familiar stretch. Or, maybe it was just a slow morning... I was heartened to see dozens of people on the beach to witness the sunrise and the day's eclipse. I'm glad I was there to fish, though, because the haze, offshore cloud bank and muted sunlight all conspired against a good view of the day's astronomical events. This shortened my workday, too! In combination with another bass landed (before the day's real business commenced!), that made this a pretty good day. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: June 7, 2021 Body of Water: Plum Island Surf Fishing Moon Phase: New Moon minus 3 days; waning crescent Tides: Low Tide at about 4:50 PM; building tide throughout Boat: None With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 4:45 PM - 7:45 PM Conditions: About 95 degrees (and even warmer inland!); clear and bright; mild westerly winds and surf 0 - 3 feet, with extremely clear water. No obvious bird, bait or seal activity. It was so hot, I almost didn't care if I caught any fish. I just needed to get out of the city and catch a breeze, at the very least! When I finally arrived at my fishing spot, I suspected it was just "too nice" to expect much fish activity. The skies were high, the seas were calm, and the water was super clear! I walked down the beach to the first accessible "structure", a hard sand point with some mild shoreline surf. This placed me within a couple of hundred yards of my fishing spot from the prior session. I arrived at just about the bottom of the tide, and I could not discern other water movements (sweep, rips, cuts, etc.) I waded in and started fan-casting with the A17 Diamond Jig. This felt a little overly aggressive in these quiet and clear conditions and so after after about a dozen casts with no response, I switched to slowly swimming a Hogy Epoxy Jig along the sand bottom. This was pleasant, but also unproductive! Fortunately, I spied a schoolie following my lure. When the same lure was followed by a much larger bass (keeper-sized), I knew two things; stripers were present, and I needed to switch things up to get some bites! Fortunately, I made the right call; my first cast with a 4-inch Al Gag's paddle-tail swim-bait was first pecked and then thunked! I carefully played the bass through the surf and onto the sand. My next cast enticed a micro-bass. That bass was too small for even me to photograph for On the Water's Striper Cup! Plus, with two bass on two casts, I suspected I'd have plenty of opportunities for other pictures. It was only 5:30 (Low tide plus 45 minutes or so), and the fishing should only get better. It took a half hour, a move down the beach to another small point, and a change to a 1-ounce Crippled Herring to get the next bite and landed striper. For a few casts, I had repeated "touches" on this lure, but no aggressive takes or hookups. I switched back to the Al Gag swimmer (now presented with my light Avid-and-Vanford combination) and started catching! In the next hour or so, I caught at least seven additional bass to about 18 inches. Just about all of the hits were at the farthest extent of my cast, although one spunky guy provided a cool, visual strike at the base of the small breakers, now almost at my feet! In general, if I missed a strike on my slow retrieve during this period, I could entice a hookup by speeding the lure away. Along the way, I also sporadically threw the Crippled Herring, a smaller A07 Diamond Jig and a Pencil Popper, if only to keep any local, bigger bass honest. These all went untouched. When I'd gone about 30 minutes without a decent fish, I decided to call it quits. I had hoped that the bite would improve as dusk progressed, but I'd seemingly lost contact with my fish, I had a long drive home, phone calls to make, and the Green Flies had arrived about a month early! As I walked off the beach, others were setting up. All were bait fishing (I had seen one family of three casting paddle-tails earlier in the evening), and those with reports also indicated just small fish. What do I have to say about this? Again, I'm not much of a surf fisherman; and all the bass I touched this day were small; but this was perhaps my best surf outing, ever. I've never landed double-digit stripers in a single session from the surf before. Moreover, I stayed in pretty constant contact with fish throughout and made some good calls to maintain that contact. It pays to be observant! I'd not had a single touch in the first half hour or so, when I saw the first bass following my epoxy jig. The next cast revealed a keeper-sized follower. Had I not seen these fish, even rejecting my baits, I might have moved further down the beach or lost confidence. But a quick switch to the Al Gag's 4-inch swim-bait exposed some biters right away, and I was able to build the session from there. I saw another "large" striper cruising the base of the second set of breakers, and it was just plain enjoyable to watch the silvery stripers fighting in the ultra-clear water. It was even more fun to watch them swimming away upon release! Note of warning to my future self or anybody else that might be interested; I accessed the beach via the Newbury town access ($10 parking). The entire beach within the Parker River National Wildlife Refuge is closed until mid-August due to Piping Plover chicks. That's a bit of a hassle, but it's also why the refuge exists, in the first place. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: May 31, 2021 Body of Water: Plum Island - Newburyport, Massachusetts Moon Phase: Full Moon plus 4 days; waning gibbous Tides: High Tide at about 4:30 PM Boat: None With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 2 PM - 6:30 PM Conditions: About 60 degrees; leaden gray skies; mild North wind swinging to NW to about 10 mph; after three solid days of strong Northeasterlies, heavy surf and rain; surf about 5 - 7 feet swell with lots of white water! What a miserable Memorial Day weekend (at least weather-wise). Based on weather, chores and traffic, I deferred trip after trip to Cape Cod. I started watching and considering a weather/tide window for a closer jaunt to the Plum Island surf, and by 12:30 PM on Day 3 of the long weekend, I finally hit the road in pursuit of a few stripers. I simply crossed my fingers that the surf would not be too heavy or weed-infested after the long stretch of strong winds from the northeast. I had certain conditions ostensibly in my favor. The skies were gray, the tide would peak during the middle of my session, and I expected little competition. I've not a lot of experience surf fishing, but conditions were seemingly lined up nicely for a daytime trip. I was fishing by 2 PM. The surf conditions dictated that I use a tin; weeds dictated a single hook. I started with a 1-ounce Crippled Herring, but rotated through an Al Gag's plastic sand eel on my way to a size A17 Diamond Jig with green sand eel trailer. I may have had an early touch on the Crippled Herring, but as more time went on without any action, I started doubting myself. There was little-to-no bird or bait activity. I was treated to a sturgeon, leaping out of the water directly in my line of site and only a very long cast offshore. I'd seen similar displays on previous trips to Plum Island and Crane Beach, but this was my first super-clear and confirmed sighting of a wild sturgeon, here. (I saw another, further offshore later in the trip.) After too long (1.5 hours) in the same stretch of beach (a cut in the bar provided a distinct offshore rip, here, and it both felt and looked good), I relocated a few hundred yards further north to a sand point and area where the adjacent beach was steeper. About 45 minutes before predicted high tide and at nearly my cast's length, I swung on a fish and connected! The fish was cold and the fight was lethargic and weak, but I carefully navigated the first striper of the day through the breakers and sweep. I'd avoided a skunk! The fish was only 17 or 18 inches, but was certainly a sight for me to behold! Many of my surf sessions have produced fish in bunches, once that first biter is found. That was not to be the case, this day. I stayed along this "productive" stretch for another hour or more without another bite. I decided to work my way back down the beach towards the parking area. I stopped at the next seam of interest. It was now about 45 minutes after predicted high tide. A seal was cruising offshore and some terns were now working some sporadic, small bait a cast-and-one-half out. My first cast was thunked, hard, again at the length of my cast. The rod bowed to a much heavier fish, and the fish pulled line against my drag at will. The fish never panicked, but stubbornly resisted coming into shallower water. After about a minute of contact, I lost touch with this fish in the midst of a big breaker. On the one hand, Success! But on the other... Once again, moving had produced a strike. I decided to accelerate the pace with which I changed water, and became slightly less picky about the water I chose to fish. I still focused on points, bowls and cuts where they presented themselves. At about 6 PM, (High tide plus 1.5 hours) my lure stopped for the last time. This fish was heavier than the first, but unable to pull line at will. It stayed hidden from me in the whitewash until virtually at my feet; I surfed it up the beach with the next wave and was pleased to land a fat 23-incher. I stayed for another half hour, but couldn't get anything else going. I guess I'd already had my share of fortune for the day. What do I have to say about this? It's been a while since I've lost a fish big enough to bother me. When bites are scarce, every miss hurts a little bit, and this was the case today. But my lost fish this trip confidently pulled steady drag, and so was quite a bit larger than the 23-inch fatty I landed as my consolation prize. I'm guessing the lost fish was easily in the 30-inch range, and it certainly would have been my largest surf striper to date. I don't like missing out on Personal Bests, but I guess my fishing execution will never be perfect. And, what a nice few hours; fresh air, wild surf, seals, sturgeon and stripers with nary a problem. This, in strong juxtaposition to the many things going on in life right now. I guess my living execution will never be perfect, either, but I have to keep plugging away! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: May 22, 2021 Body of Water: Waquoit Bay and Vineyard Sound - Falmouth, Massachusetts Moon Phase: Full Moon minus 4 days; waxing gibbous Tides: High Tide at about 9 AM; Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 7 AM - 3 PM Conditions: About 60 - 75 degrees; shower passed through just before launching; mostly cloudy with mixed sun later; steady SW winds 10+ mph; water was brownish inside and 62 - 66 degrees F; and green and 57 - 58 degrees F in Vineyard Sound I really had high expectations for the day. With warmer weather and increased water temperatures, and based on available public reports, I had reason to believe that my chosen water would be invaded by bass. And, my experience indicated they should be blasting top-water baits as well as chewing a variety of other fun lures. But at my first two stops, I had to grind to catch seven small stripers to only about 17 inches. All were caught on small, white swim-baits. Surprisingly, poppers, walking baits and flukes didn't elicit a single response. I saw no surface activity; nor did I see any active birds or bait. Still, I had punched my Striper Cup 3-fish photo limit, and the gray skies had kept the crowds down. The day hadn't shaped up as I'd expected, but this was still a welcomed grind. But I wanted more, and so I exited the outlet at Menauhant and motored to Great Pond, arriving at about slack high tide. I had stopped a couple of times to blind cast areas with active terns, but raised nothing. I found nothing in my favorite spots on Great Pond, too, in about an hour of effort. I was tempted to find something on Vineyard Sound, but the steady southwesterly winds had built a short and steep chop. Moving about in amybaby22 would not be easy. Still, I could see a couple of collections of boats, and they didn't seem to be too far away. I carefully picked my way offshore. When I arrived at Red Marker 14, I could see that the ebb flow was being interrupted by shoal conditions here and to the east. Some of the boats were working the resultant rips. Others were working the deeper waters further out, presumably for scup and sea bass. I chose to work the south side of this rip line, and motored a mile or so east so that I could troll with the current. I was just about straight out from Green Pond outlet when I placed a Rapala Magnum X-Rap 15 about 75 feet back and trolled as slowly as I could. I tried to keep the boat just off the edge of the shoal, which dropped into 30-foot depths. I approached an area of standing white water, and my graph lit up with marks. I knew I was close when the rod bounced to a hard hit. Line pulled steadily off the drag, and I tossed the boat into neutral to fight the fish. After a stubborn fight, I turned the fish and was surprised that it was only a 25-incher. Still, this was the biggest striper of my season so far, and I expected that there were a bunch more in the same spot. Unfortunately, a guide boat slipped into position and held against the current as his clients fly-fished. I got to watch them fight and land a half-dozen similar fish in the next half hour. I tried to stem the tide, too, but immediately got sea-sick. When I returned to my trolling efforts, mung negated each pass quickly, even when I switched to a single-hooked Hogy sand eel on lead core line. I returned to Waquoit, and repeatedly struck out. I couldn't find anything in my regular haunts, and the birds were giving nothing away, this day. Eventually I returned to my starting point, the familiar wide spot on the Eel River. I knew some bass were there, and the tide had changed; I'd be presented with the last part of the falling tide, now. The small swim-bait revealed the bass' presence along a tideline/scum line in five to seven feet of water. When they tired of the swim-bait, I switched to a white fluke on a weighted hook. I had fun with these schoolies for a while, catching a half dozen or so to 18 inches. I made one last drift through this area, now throwing a pink fluke as a change of pace. This yielded a few follows, but only a single bite. Fortunately, that bite announced itself immediately as substantial. For the second time this day, my drag sang as the bass powered away, but this time on my light spinning tackle. She succumbed quickly after the initial run, and I soon captured my first "Keeper"-sized bass of the season at just a smidge over 28 inches. Of course, now I had to stay a bit longer. I even caught another bass or two on a white fluke, but the day's memories had already been made. What do I have to say about this? I hate sea-sickness! It is fortunately infrequent for me now, but I still dislike it, very strongly! This was a first on the skiff, and it probably won't be a last. Regardless, I enjoyed my time on the rips; I just need a willing and adventurous partner to really explore my capabilities there. In the meantime, I'll take satisfaction in recognizing fishy conditions and in my developing confidence that I'll occasionally capitalize on them. While the fishing seemed slow and "off", I can't really complain about a 17-bass day, including a couple of nice ones. The "keeper" was my earliest ever, which means I still have a lot of season in front of me. There's plenty of goodness ahead. And I haven't even mentioned the leaping Hickory Shad I caught. On a four-inch white swim-bait, in the deep water behind Menauhant Yacht Club during the incoming tide; just like my first, 52 weeks prior! That will give me something to think about in 2022! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: May 16, 2021 Body of Water: Waquoit Bay - Falmouth/Mashpee, Massachusetts Moon Phase: New Moon plus 5 days; waxing crescent Tides: Low Tide at about 9:40 AM; but my on-the-water estimate was off! Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 7 AM - 1 PM Conditions: About 60 - 60 degrees; mostly sunny but with some mixed clouds; mild southerly breeze; water was cloudy from plankton blooms and 62 - 66 degrees F Expecting good things based on memories past and with dramatically increased water temperature (compared to my visit nine days prior), I had high hopes for an action-packed day as I motored downriver from the Childs River boat ramp. Although conditions were already bright, things were quiet, and I believed that I'd have a chance to bend some rods, try some new gear and relax after an eventful, stressful week. When I arrived at the wide spot/pond/turning basin where I've started my last two seasons, I scouted simultaneously with the small, white swim-bait and sonar. The weak tide was going out, and nothing was evident in the couple of key spots from which I've taken so many stripers. Five minutes into my fishing, I already had an indication that this was not going to be the day I had expected. I made a small move up the channel connecting this pond to Waquoit Bay, proper, and casted the swim-bait up current and alongside a prominent dock system. I felt a couple of "ticks" before the fish ate, and the day's first striper came aboard to be photographed. I had another entry for the Striper Cup, although I certainly hoped to find fish bigger than 16 inches to enter! This fish proved to be a loner, and I enlarged my search radius. The slow primary outgoing current was against the wind, and a scum-line was forming along a depth change along the bank. After a period without any contact, I switched to a topwater pencil popper, if only to move a fish. Sure enough, one revealed itself with a half-hearted chase-and-swirl. Several fish in this group visibly chased the follow-up swim-bait without eating. I was almost surprised, and may have over-reacted, when I had a solid take, swung, and immediately broke off (!?!?!??!?!!!) Down a rod, I looked to switch to a fluke, and realized that I had four "experimental" baits on my other rods... and so I took a deep breath and carefully retied a new, identical swim-bait and replaced a hard jerk-bait with a white/chartreuse fluke on a 1/8-ounce weighted hook on my other light setup. My first cast with the fluke was pounced on by a 17-incher, and a few casts later I completed my Striper Cup limit with a third fat bass of 16 inches. It was still only 8:30 AM, and my primary goals had been accomplished. After a couple of more teenaged bass from this same area, I left them to find some others. I scouted the north (deeper) end of Waquoit Bay. There was no visible bird, bait or bass activity. A lone surf fisherman at Caleb Pond's outlet landed a schoolie while I scratched around with the swim-bait. I missed a solid "thunk" but hooked up shortly thereafter with fish number six of the day. But this wasn't what I was looking for, and so I motored south. Near the southern edge of the mooring field, I noticed a large school of happy bait. I couldn't quite tell if these were bunker or herring, but they were harassed by neither birds nor bass. Still, I casted a large Hogy dog-walker with some hope of raising a larger bass, but all to no avail. I then wasted an hour or more in Great River. I was thinking I'd ride the rising tide upstream, but I was dismayed by the lack of water and movement. My calculations were off, the sky was high and bright, and I saw no fish in the areas I'd hope to encounter them. This blunder cost both time and energy. I trolled up Waquoit, hoping for a fish to reveal a productive location. I spent extra time around the happy bait; it was still in the same general area. I saw the "head" half of a freshly chopped adult bunker; there were at least some bluefish roaming about. Still, I raised nothing. I scratched two more small bass (one was a micro, the other about 17 inches) near the break at Caleb Pond outlet. I then tried the north end of the river connecting my "pond" and Waquoit. I've never fished here before, but there was good current, and I raised a fish despite the high skies. From there I relocated to the "pond" and tried my productive haunts again, without any sign of fish. By 1 PM, I was pulling the boat! What do I have to say about this? When I realized my blunder while far up Great River, I figuratively ran out of gas. I could have tackled the outlets and Vineyard Sound. But at 11 AM the breeze kicked up and I was suddenly very tired. I chose to stay comfortable in Waquoit and try to grind out or otherwise awaken a few more fish. As it went, my acquiescence to fatigue got me off the water before the ramp clustered up and before a couple of pop-up storms... so it had been a good call. And while I am used to making more from such a promising set of conditions, I learned a bit, didn't end up abusing myself too badly, and got a chance to really enjoy the new-to-me St. Croix Avid rod paired with the Shimano Vanford 4000. This light set-up is clearly a joy to fish with, even if I have to admit that I caught more fish this day on my 26-year-old, trusty homemade Loomis! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways |
Steve LachanceRI --> NH --> MI-->MA-->ME Archives
June 2024
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