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Date: September 18, 2021 Body of Water: Casco Bay, Falmouth, Maine Moon Phase: Full Moon minus two days; waxing gibbous moon Tides: Low Tide at 3:38 AM; mostly Quadrant III Boat: None, shore fishing from landing float With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 5 AM - 7:30 AM Conditions: Foggy and about 63 degrees F; no wind; intense bioluminescence; water temperatures about 66 After only a couple of casts/drifts in the dark without a touch on my blood-worm, I was already wondering; Is it over? I know the migration will take virtually all of my stripers out of the local system, and so of course, that last bite for the season will come. But so soon? And on such a promising day (gray, gloomy skies, bottom of flood tide, good bait and such glorious quiet)? Despite the deep darkness, I added a second line to my spread; a tail chunk from a week-long frozen mackerel was free-lined toward the depths. This resulted in a couple of minor tangles in the dark, but these were easily addressed. It also resulted in the first take of the morning. At about 5:45 AM, a 26-incher ate the tail. Whew, I'd proven that some bass were still present, avoided the skunk, and got my first picture for the last week of Striper Cup 2021. The worm rod went off while I was removing this bass from the hook; something ate my worm. I re-baited and quickly connected with a smallish schoolie; I landed this 20-incher but flubbed it for the picture. Still, affirmations of both fish and their continued appetite for worms were welcomed news. Things then quieted down. My last bite of the session was at about 6:30 AM, at the end of Quadrant III. A nice 26-incher quietly pulled my floated worm beneath the surface but then fought like hell, all the way to hand. I fished for another hour, well into (dreaded) Quadrant IV, but nothing else happened. I was back in bed, napping by 8 AM. What do I have to say about this? Since I know the inevitable is coming, I also know I need to enjoy and appreciate (more than usual!) each and every bass I encounter. Any session with a brace of 26-inchers is good enough; add the intense quietness and stillness, and this was quite satisfying. Well worth the missed (delayed?) sleep! Will I recognize the last striper of 2021? Perhaps not. I think it's still too early to be overly concerned about any particular session, but the Fall Run is on, down the eastern seaboard. It's happening, and I kind of felt its local ramifications this morning. Still, one more photographed fish this week and my obligations for the 2021 Striper Cup will be met. Since we plan to attend the season-ending "bash" on Cape Cod next weekend, I'll probably have a chance to be on the receiving end of the bass' migratory behavior. I am looking forward to that, but meanwhile, here and now, I'll focus on the stripers one at a time and appreciate each and every one. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways
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