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Date: August 27, 2023 Body of Water: Casco Bay (Hussey Sound) - Maine Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 8 AM - 1 PM Moon Phase: Full minus six days; waxing gibbous moon Tide: High tide at 8:02 AM Conditions: Mixed sun and clouds, light northerly wind, about 65 - 75 degrees. Water temperatures 59 - 61 degrees F (+/-) The run from the anchorage to Red Marker No. 2 took 18 minutes, but it turned out to be the right call. I immediately found mackerel here, right on the surface, and by 8:35, I was enroute to Vaill Island with a well full of prime baits. Conditions at Vaill looked automatic for some striped bass. High Tide, clouds, swell, moving water and lively baits all pointed to success. But the bass had different ideas, and I spent almost an hour here without raising a single fish, as far as I could tell. I ran across the mouth of Hussey Sound to a prominent point on Peaks Island. I deployed a bait while I tried to interpret the sweep, current and wind. Pretty quickly, that bait was eaten. After a nice run, this fish popped loose. I was still spinning my wheels, but this was encouraging. I turned the point's corner and entered The Washing Machine, where ocean swells and outgoing tide collide with ledge and boulders. The water here is always confused, and this day, especially so. But it's a productive location, and I'd recently done quite well with pollock here, right against the rocks. My first flip of a mack into the confusion resulted in an instantaneous hookup! I landed that striper (low-20-incher) and then two more (25 and 26 inches) on successive passes. Each successful bait was tossed right into whitewater next to rock edges; the bass were there to take advantage. When the next pass went unmolested, I moved out of this treacherous and stressful area and moved down the shoreline. I ended up bouncing around rocky points looking for additional fish, missing a couple of chances along the way. Eventually striper number four for the day came from a small pocket of wash behind a boulder; this 26-inch bass pounced immediately when I lobbed my bait in. Moving down the shoreline, I lingered in a promising-looking washy area. Sure enough, my bait woke up and was popped right off the hook. I re-baited and sent another bait in. I'd drifted away from this specific location, but my bait remained super nervous and active. I continued the drift, using the motor only to stay away from submerged boulders. Finally, at High Noon, I hooked up; this feisty 30-incher provided quite the fight on light tackle and with the rock and lobster-pot hazards. I was spent; the toll of maneuvering the boat in such tight quarters was wearing on me. I decided to relax a bit and fish more casually around Crow Island. I was unable to raise anything here. I'm not sure I've ever been shut out at both Crow and Vaill on the same day (when fish were caught elsewhere). Every day out here is different, and I've come to expect the unexpected. What do I have to say about this? This was my last fishing adventure of my 50s. I'm glad it ended with a really nice fish! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways
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