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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
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