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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
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