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Date: October 15, 2023 Body of Water: Sebago Lake Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Lake Trout (Togue) Time: 9:45 AM - 2:15 PM Moon Phase: New plus one day; waxing crescent moon Conditions: Clear, persistent northwesterly wind increasing to about 15 mph, about 50 - 60 degrees. Water temperatures 59 - 60 degrees F (+/-) With amybaby22 off her mooring for the season, I was in trailer mode and with a hankering for some freshwater fishing. Based on wind (pretty strong and from the north!), thermocline (expected to still be present), access (good!) and reputation, I decided to try Sebago Lake for a shot at lake trout, known locally as "togue". The launch from the State Park at the lake's north end went fine, even if the water got awfully skinny for a section in the channel out to the main lake. I knew the northwest wind would keep me reasonably close. Based on a smidge of 2021 success and some interesting structure, I decided to head over to the mouth of the Muddy River and the Inner and Outer Islands that guard its mouth. I would have to rely on lead cores to attain any depth, but I had rods rigged with 2, 7 and 10 colors. These have all caught plenty of Lake Michigan Lake Trout. Still, I hedged my bets a little bit by staying "shallow", i.e., less than 120 feet of water or so, and I especially focused on about 60 to 110 feet while I scouted for potential fish to vertically jig. Setting up along the western shoreline, I started marking targets and bait almost immediately, so I was filled with some hope for an active session. By 10 AM, I had spoons behind the "full" 10-color line (with a very basic silver spoon in typical Lake Michigan "alewife" shape and size) and a shorter and shallower, 2- to 4-color presentation (with a smaller Michigan Stinger Scorpion spoon in copper and red). I trolled as slowly as able, which into the slight headwind at this location, kept me at about 1.5 mph. Despite a couple of adjustments, I hadn't contacted a single fish by the time I had passed through the gut between the two islands. As I passed over the saddle connecting these and slid into deeper water, I marked some interesting targets near the bottom in about 110 feet. I pulled lines, readied the trolling motor, re-positioned, and set up Spot-Lock. I was able to feel, control, and see my baits (a 2-ounce bucktail jig with a Gulp! trailer, or a 3/4-ounce jigging spoon) to my total satisfaction, but the marks were unresponsive to any of my presentations. Soon, I was back on the troll, which was okay because the wind was really freshening at this point. Now, I trolled south alongside Outer Island and past the reef off its southwest tip. I knew this area held interesting structure and cover in the form of huge boulders based on 2021 downrigger issues here. I had to bump-troll and cut across the wind to maintain a slow speed, and the boat was crab-walking across the surface of the lake. My lines were at an odd angle, but the full core was especially odd and the rod holder was suddenly strained. Fish! In 110 feet of water, I grabbed the rod, confirmed a decently heavy head-shake, and very carefully wound the fish in. I slipped the net under a pretty, 23-inch togue; I hate to say it, but this is my largest Maine trout, ever, and the largest trout I've landed since I left Michigan in 2019. I continued to work this area, and replaced the silent, shallower presentation with a full 7 colors of lead. On this I placed another very basic Lake Michigan Lake Trout spoon in silver with some orange/red tape. Nothing else happened here, and so I changed gears and worked the drop along the north shore. An expansive sand flat here drops from 7 to well over 100 feet of water in a steep but erratic wall. After a couple of flubbed attempts (in which I ended up too shallow and snagged bottom), I managed to set up a pass in over 45 feet of water. I had just set the second line (7 colors of lead) when it bent over in about 60 feet of water. This shallow-water trout fought better than the first, and matched it in length (if not girth). I thought I was on to something good; but I didn't convert this into any more action. Still, it was good to catch some fish in new-to-me areas and with trusted, old techniques that I just haven't used here in Maine. I'll be back! What do I have to say about this? While these lakers would never have warranted a second glance on Lake Michigan (although I would have welcomed them in just about any tournament!), any day one catches two local Personal Bests is a good one. And each was pretty and seemingly fit! I will gladly build upon this small success. Catching smallish fish on the heavier tackle required for long lead core presentations isn't the most fun, but it is relaxing. My joy in fishing cores is detecting the strike by the awakening of the reel's drag system. Neither fish was able to announce themselves in this manner; I'll have to wait for the next opportunity to re-live that experience. Internet intel indicates "the bite goes white" during Sebago's fall season, so I will mix in some white offerings too. I guess the forage is both tiny smelt and full-sized alewives, so I will continue to mix in different sized spoons. That's why I just purchased two separate vertical jig kits, one advertised as the "small bait" option, and the other for "large bait" situations. There's so much to learn! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways
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Date: October 14, 2023 Body of Water: Casco Bay - Maine Boat: None; shore fishing from landing float With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 4 PM - 5:45 PM Moon Phase: New Moon Tide: Low tide at 5:45 PM Conditions: Mostly sunshine but with some clouds, decreasing winds to calm, about 55 - 60 degrees. Quadrant II. Clear water, temperatures 55 - 58 degrees F (+/-) I had this tide marked on the calendar. I really didn't want to miss one of the major (and perhaps the last) Moon Tides of the season. The evening was open, I had frozen mackerel for bait, the rods were freshly rigged, and there really was no better use of my time. I headed down to the landing float to see if any stripers lingered. After completing a couple of quick chores, I was in place at 4 PM with my spread; a choice tail section free-lined to the bottom, and a mid-section chunk suspended under a float. The dock's cross-bar was just appearing at the water's surface, and so I knew I had the best portion of Quadrant II (second half of the falling tide) ahead of me. Almost immediately, my float jiggled and slipped under. I missed the fish and my bait seemed pristine, so I sent it back, wondering if I'd missed my last chance for the season. I had not; the float submerged again and I wound down to a small fish. It was a large mackerel that I had luckily hooked, and this improved my bait situation; frozen baits were quickly replaced with the freshest possible chunks. At 4:15, my float slipped under for real, and I connected with a small striper in the low-20s. Success! For the day, for the season, and as redemption for ending the previous session with a broken-off fish. I repeated this almost immediately with a similar fish, but then things went quiet. Still, I was more than happy with the session's outcome. There was still bait to be used and conditions were so pleasant, I stayed until slack low tide (and almost sunset). Floated chunks produced two more bites and resulted in two more bass of about 26 inches. The last one even came on a frozen bait! Meanwhile chunks and heads sent to the bottom attracted nothing but crabs. I hadn't deployed the float rod in quite a while, but this had been a perfect opportunity to do so! What do I have to say about this? With the boat out of the water, work schedules, impending fall weather, etc., this could certainly have been the end of my local striper season. But I'll continue to maintain some level of readiness, because... one never knows. I spent a portion of the evening rigging gear for freshwater trolling. Trout will have to replace stripers, at least at the margins of our open-water season. And I'll be pleased to catch any local trout that pulls drag like even today's smallest bass. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: October 9, 2023 Body of Water: Casco Bay - Maine Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 9:30 AM - 1:45 PM Moon Phase: New moon minus five days; waning crescent moon Tide: Low tide at 2:18 PM Conditions: Clear sunshine, persistent southwesterly wind increasing to over 10 mph, about 55 degrees. Water temperatures 57 - 58 degrees F (+/-) Tropical storm Philippe must have scattered the mackerel, because it took 45 minutes for me to land a dozen off Clapboard - East. These came in singles and doubles, and I never got a frenzied school beneath the boat. Still, I had plenty of bait to start the day. I thought Cow Island deserved a shot, even if I'd missed the highest part of the tide. If it didn't work out, I could easily slide over to Crow. As I approached Cow and prepared to deploy a bait, I noticed what I thought to be mackerel about 10 or 15 feet down. After my first pass along Cow went unnoticed, I returned for a second pass through the choicest spot. But first, I dropped my Sabiki and instantly hooked up. Soon enough, I had another dozen or so live macks in the well. Even though conditions at Cow seemed prime (nice current to the east and wind and swell into the face of the rocks), I raised nothing and so motored over to Crow. I'd fished the north and then the west sides of Crow with nothing to show, when finally a bass showed itself. At Crow's southwest corner, this bass chased my mack as if in slow motion, finally crashing the bait on top, but somehow missing. I loitered here for a bit with a fresh bait before moving on. Having now fished all the way around Crow without a true bite, I decided to return to the southwest corner before leaving the area. I managed to finesse my bait right along the rocks plunging into deeper water and got bit! Finally, I was connected to a striper! It was just another 23-incher, but the day's goal had been completed. After another pass, I moved to Clapboard's west end. After an unsuccessful pass, I relocated to the Falmouth shoreline to end the day (and possibly, the saltwater boating season) with a Spot-Lock and chunk session. I was in position with chum bits flowing by 12:30 PM, with the best part of Quadrant II ahead of me. I had time to build the bite before making a decision on when to pull the plug; on both the day and the season. "Spot-Lock and Chunk" has been a very reliable technique for me in the second half of 2023, and I was surprised that I hadn't;y made contact with a bass by 1 PM. I decided to stay and stick it out, as opposed to relocating, based on the tide. I was even more surprised when I still hadn't a touch by 1:30. With the wind building, I decided to call it at 1:45 PM, unless something good had developed. All the while, I was dead-drifting my bait while introducing a steady rain of mackerel bits. At 1:45, I started cleaning the boat, storing extra macks for potential future use, and generally putting things away. Meanwhile, I left two baits resting on the bottom with the reels in free-spool. Everything was stowed and I was reaching for the last rod when the line jumped and raced away. I wound down and got tight to this last-second fish! What a way to end the season! But the bass was dogging towards a mooring and I put some additional pressure on it to turn it away. My line parted at the leader! Ugh; what a way to end the season! I returned to the ramp, a bit befuddled about what I thought about this turn of events. I can say, 18 hours later, that it's just another story to add to a fine 2023 season and overall experience. What do I have to say about this? While I didn't exactly execute well on my last few trips, I can certainly say that I tried to squeeze what I could out of the season's end. There are still some stripers to be caught; just not too many in my local waters. I can choose to trailer elsewhere, or I can move inland and target some trout in fresh water. And the landing's float is still in, and I kept some mackerel for cut bait... so another striped bass encounter is at least still possible, if I so choose. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: October 7, 2023 Body of Water: Casco Bay - Maine Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 8:30 AM - 11:30 AM Moon Phase: Quarter Moon (waning) Tide: Low tide at 12:13 PM Conditions: Tropical Storm Philippe on the way; heavy clouds with showers and squalls, persistent ESE wind >10 mph, about 60 degrees. Water temperatures 59 - 60 degrees F (+/-) Mackerel remained abundant in the top 20 feet of water over 60-foot depths off the east end of Clapboard Island. Fifteen minutes of drifting and jigging secured a couple of dozen in just 15 minutes, and I started the real fishing by live-lining a fresh bait off the rocks of Clapboard's southeast corner. Within minutes, my bait was chased to the surface and eaten in about 14 feet of water. What a great start! But as I wound tight, the leader parted even before I felt the full weight of the fish. I did NOT want to end the season on a lost opportunity go my own making! I continued my exploration here without raising another fish. I wandered around the corner to the northeast portion of the island, where another bass revealed itself by chasing my mack as I retrieved it. Still, subsequent drifts with livies and a casted fluke were not met with any enthusiasm. I ran to the west end of Clapboard, and I still could not find any fish. I'd thought to Spot-Lock and chunk here, but without any sign of fish, I decided to return to the area where I'd received the first and only hit of the day. When this proved futile, I decided to take advantage of the tidal stage (Quadrant II) and try some Spot-Lock and chunking along the Falmouth shoreline. By 10:30 AM I was positioned near the Bauman/Brown mooring buoys that have long been a marker of a fishy area (at least for me), with plenty of baitfish in the well to allow a steady dribble of fish bits to generate some local interest. The tide was weak, but the wind was strengthening. My drift wasn't great, but I was reaching bottom, based on the crabs! It seemed a little hopeless, but I also knew from this year's experience that if often takes 15 or more minutes for this activity to build before the fish start biting. And at 11 AM, my line jumped and I tightened up on the day's only striper. It wasn't a lunker (at just 23 inches), but it beat the day's skunk, and I have to admit; it could be the last of my Maine season. So I was happy to have landed this fish! I fished for another half hour without a bite. The wind was steadily increasing; Philippe was clearly on his way. What do I have to say about this? I don't tolerate break-offs very well, but am happy to have gotten another chance for another striper. And with a holiday on Monday, I might get even another chance or two. I am also thankful for avoiding disaster at the dock. As I pushed off the float to return to the mooring, my left Croc got snagged by the cleat. My right Croc was on deck, and my body was in-between. The wind was pushing amybaby22 into the dock (no real danger there), but also under the connecting gangway. I finally shrugged my left Croc off and centered myself in the boat. I was happy to avoid the dock, but then I heard several rod tips scraping the underside of the gangway. I could have broken all six rods standing in the rod holders, but quick action and a lot of luck enabled me to lay each rod down before it was broken. A couple were under a lot of stress (including a pair of my favorites), but I seem to have escaped this unharmed. I guess I really won't know until each rod gets stressed by the next fish or two. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: October 1, 2023 Body of Water: Casco Bay - Maine Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 1:15 PM - 3:45 PM Moon Phase: Full plus one day; waning gibbous moon Tide: High tide at 1:03 PM Conditions: Brighter but still hazy sunshine, very little wind, about 70 degrees. Water temperatures 57 - 58 degrees F (+/-). The water is markedly clearer. Mackerel remained readily available right near the surface over 60 feet of water off the east end of Clapboard, and I had 20 in the well in very quick order. With a little more time available to me and the extreme full moon high tide, I went directly to my favorite stretch of Cow Island's southern face. Moving as slowly as possible with the current and just starting to fret about the lack of action, my first mackerel got smacked hard without warning, and immediately over a favorite waypoint. I was relieved to connect and enjoyed a nice fight over deep water. A few minutes later, I slipped the net under my 250th Striper of 2023. I repeated this pass and even threw a fluke along the wave-swept concrete wall. This looked and felt prime, but I moved no other fish, and so I motored over to Crow Island. I missed another hard strike on a live mack off the steep southern face, and that was it. The outgoing tide was hitting the north face of the island, hard, before deflecting over an historically productive waypoint into deep water. As I prepared to position myself for a chunking session here, I discovered my battery was spent; neither the trolling motor nor the bait well pump was running. So much for the chunking session! Knowing my bait would not last long without recirculation, I ran over to the Long Island shoreline near College Island. I drifted a quarter mile or so without a touch or a hint of action. Things are really slowing down; I returned back to the dock a bit earlier than I had anticipated. What do I have to say about this? It's been a fantastic season, and I hope to keep it going. If I can continue to make bait, I'll try to hit a chunking home run. If I can catch any low tides, I may search the shallows for some crustacean-seeking bass. And then, it will be time to go trout fishing! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: September 30, 2023 Body of Water: Casco Bay - Maine Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 2:45 PM - 4:45 PM Moon Phase: Full moon Tide: Low tide at 6:28 PM Conditions: Hazy sunshine, very calm, persistent but light southwesterly wind, about 55 degrees. Water temperatures 58 - 59 degrees F (+/-) The hunt for macks was easy, and by 4 PM I was drifting along Clapboard Island's east end. My lively mack was chased to the surface at a northeastern nook and race below the boat. I retrieved the slack line and tossed the bait out with a "splat" in the area of disturbance. The bass was on it quickly and captured the mack from the surface. Perhaps I wound down too quickly, but the hook pulled after a brief slip of the drag. I missed my only real chance of the session. This quick start belied a very slow trip. I circled through this same area and raised a fish on a popper, and I closed the time with a lackluster surface chase of my mack right in front of the landing float. All in all, things were eerily quiet under smoke-dampened skies. In addition to Clapboard - East, I also fished Clapboard - West pretty carefully. I ended along the Falmouth shoreline as I awaited the arrival of my nephew and his family for a quick Seal Tour. (There were piles on Sturdivant Ledge.) What do I have to say about this? I'll continue looking for No. 250 of 2023, but it certainly seems as if the number of hunting bass has declined. This is not necessarily unexpected, but perhaps is a bit sooner than expected. Perhaps the big northeasterly winds of Lee spurred the annual migration and got the stripers moving. And perhaps I am incorrect and will stumble on a nice concentration of fish or two in coming sessions. Regardless, I've got two weeks (tops) left in my moored-boat season, and so I'll keep looking and enjoying myself while I can! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: September 29, 2023 Body of Water: Casco Bay - Maine Boat: amybaby22 With: Nephew, J Target: Striped Bass Time: 9 AM - 11 AM Moon Phase: Full moon Tide: Low tide at 5:14 AM Conditions: High haze and wood smoke, persistent but light easterly wind, about 55 degrees. Water temperatures 58 - 59 degrees F (+/-) After scoring eight or nine prime mackerel off the east end of Clapboard Island pretty quickly, my nephew J and I began our search for his first striped bass. We had just a short window to fish, but were determined to make it work; we hadn't fished together since approximately 1996, when small bluegills and bullhead were are targets. Our first stop was Clapboard Island - East. The tide was building and our macks were nervous, but with our available time dwindling, having not had a single contact, we ran to Clapboard - West. A prime rocky shelf provided a single, last-minute chance, and J made the most of it, hooking and landing a 25-inch striper, just in time! What do I have to say about this? The biting mackerel remain near the surface, a good thing for me to remember for the season's remainder and latter portions of future seasons. We spent the rest of the day doing the requisite local Maine Tourist stuff and enjoying the company of J's wife and toddler daughter. Important stuff, sure! But sharing some time on Casco Bay for the first time and encountering seals, loons, macks and bass is pretty important, too! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: September 24, 2023 Body of Water: Casco Bay - Maine Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 6:30 AM - 11:30 AM Moon Phase: Full minus six days; waxing gibbous moon Tide: High tide at 6:38 AM, low tide at 12:33 PM Conditions: Overcast, NE wind about 10 mph, about 55 - 65 degrees. Water temperatures 59 - 60 degrees F (+/-) My first thought was to try some high-tide popper fish along the local shoreline. Not a bad idea; sunrise, slack tide and my first misses of the day coincided after just a few casts. This fish came in hot; it missed explosively, twice. This was all visible, and this was a much larger than average fish. I continued down the shoreline, with hope but not moving much. I did raise another bass a few hundred yards down the shoreline, but this one also missed, badly. After 50 minutes of skunk, I decided to make bait and look locally for some more stripers. Mackerel were still home, in the upper 15 feet of water over 60 foot depths off Clapboard Island's eastern end. It wasn't quite as easy as the previous day, but soon enough and by 7:45 AM, I was presenting a lively mack along Clapboard's steep and rocky eastern shore. In what was threatening to become a theme for the day, a bass soon crashed on my bait twice without finding it. I quickly flipped my scared mack back out, and after another miss, finally it was taken with a confident surface swirl. This fish fought deep and well, and it took some maneuvering to keep it out of a lobster pot. When I finally turned this fish and slipped the net under it, I was surprised to find that it was only a 30-incher. I continued down the shore, with the wind-born current, and slid around the corner. I extended my pass a little bit because my mackerel was acting scared; this paid off with a solid strike. I wound down, but this fish didn't even know it was hooked. It swam below the boat before suddenly taking off on a nice run. I plunged my rod into the water to keep the line off the hull, but still, the hook popped free. I returned to repeat this entire pass and flipped my bait along the steep, rocky, weedy shoreline. My bait raced away but got intercepted by another nice bass; this was a super fit 29-incher that also fought above its size class. After a couple of unsuccessful passes through this same water, I turned my attention to the northeast corner of Clapboard. Here, I scored a feisty 27-incher before I ran to Clapboard's west end. After a long swim but as if on cue, a bass hit my mackerel over an existing waypoint at the very western extent of this reefy complex. It was almost nice to see a "small" 23-incher. It was now about 9:45 AM, and I had planned to finish the session by chunking. I decided to return to Clapboard's east end. By 10, I was set up with Spot-lock and dribbling bits of fresh mackerel to drift into a cluster of waypoints. But I was in 24 feet of water and losing touch with my bait before I knew it reached bottom. After 15 minutes or so, I allowed the boat to drift about 30 feet with the existing chum slick and locked down again. Now I was in more familiar depths (12 feet or so), and my first presentation with a fresh chunk was taken enthusiastically by a nice 26-incher. I kept the rain of free food going while drifting hooked choice tail cuts. Ten minutes later, a 24-incher came to hand. As the wind and current decreased, I had a final bite, and enjoyed the fight of an angry 28-incher. This fish bought me another 10 minutes, but I was about out of time and with things to do. That was okay, I'd lost the current and depth, and it certainly had been a better-than-average day! What do I have to say about this? I know this, but hadn't prepared; have a follow-up bait (fluke, small swim-bait, etc.) ready to go when top-water fishing! I might have been able to convert my misses into hooked fish had I been adequately prepared. But when I am throwing top-waters, I tend to be stubborn. I want to to throw them. I'll even go almost an hour without a fish, happily, if conditions are right and I've had a hint of a fish's interest. I couldn't have asked much more from the rest of the morning; seven bass, including three "keepers" over 28 inches, from my eight chances. Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: September 23, 2023 Body of Water: Casco Bay - Maine Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 7:45 AM - 2 PM Moon Phase: Waxing quarter moon Tide: Low tide at 11:28 AM Conditions: Hazy sunshine giving way to clouds, persistent but light southerly wind, about 50 - 60 degrees. Water temperatures 58 - 61 degrees F (+/-) Hurricane/Tropical Storm Lee paused my season, but we suffered no real harm and were back in business this following weekend. Conditions had changed mightily since my last trip. Summer was gone and Fall had arrived! I was starting from scratch, but with the hunch that once I found the proper conditions, the fishing would be good! And I thought I'd landed on my feet almost immediately. Leave the dock at 7:45, fill the well with fresh mackerel by 8, and miss the first bass of the day at 8:12 AM. Things were looking, and feeling, good! That first, clean miss along Crow Island's northern shoreline was almost immediately followed by another due to a turned hook. After fishing around the entire island without another chance, I relocated to Peaks Island. I had a surface chase in some serious white water, but that was it. I went looking for more concentrated bass; I was curious about Broad Cove at low tide, but decided to stop at Clapboard (west) along the way. I found nothing there, and arrived at Broad Cove just before predicted dead low tide. There was bait here; it looked like mackerel. A couple of seals harassed these schools. I drifted and bumped along in the deep channel, waiting for some active fish but also constantly scanning for active birds or bait. These didn't materialize, and so at 12:15 or so, I made the decision to return to the Falmouth shoreline and fish Quadrant III, the beginning of the flood. I had a well of lively baits, and I figured I would Spot-Lock and chunk. I selected my location based on just a little extra depth at the inside of the mooring line. The wind and a little current would (theoretically) take my chum and bait towards an historically productive rock ledge. There wasn't a lot of current, but I countered that with a generous supply of mackerel bits behind the boat. It took over half an hour to build the action and get the first bite, but just before 1 PM, I hooked up and landed a very athletic and determined 25-inch striper. Whew, I'd avoided the skunk! The next hour was busy; I landed an additional seven stripers to 28 inches and lost an apparently big fish to a nearby mooring. Most came on tail chunks, but a meaty head produced several bites, too. All were great fun on the selected light tackle, and all showed themselves to be in prime condition for their fall run. The secret seemed to be the steady rain of free bits, and I would always surround my bait with a couple of freebies when I started a new drift. I enjoyed one of the cooler bites of the season when a 26-inch bass appeared behind the boat, chasing down and eating these drifting bits. I immediately presented a hooked bait to it and watched it dart towards and eat my bait a few feet below the surface. I tightened up and the fight was on, all in view. This bass might as well have been a mahi or a big snapper or jack in a Florida chum slick. It was a neat experience to see it play out behind the stern. The bite slowed down as the tide moved out of the favorable portion of Quadrant III. I was close to the landing and called it (another, good) day! What do I have to say about this? Another win for Spot-Lock! But I'll give an assist to my growing awareness of conditions and options. Especially when confronted with tough conditions, the Falmouth shoreline, the first two-thirds of Quadrant III, and an abundance of fresh bait can be a favorable equation. What a Fall day! With our first overnight temperatures in the mid-40s in quite a while, I encountered more seals, loons and osprey than I did boats. And since it appears that the vast majority of lobster pots have been pulled, it looks like it will stay that way for the season's remainder. Now, if I can just continue to locate active fish each trip, I know they'll eat! Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways Date: September 10, 2023 Body of Water: Casco Bay - Maine Boat: amybaby22 With: Alone Target: Striped Bass Time: 10:15 AM - 1:15 PM Moon Phase: New minus four days; waning crescent moon Tide: High tide at 8:54 AM Conditions: Overcast, light easterly wind, about 65 degrees. Water temperatures 62 degrees F (+/-) I stopped directly over a school active mackerel in Hussey Sound, seemingly right where I left them the previous day. My first drop got intercepted on the way down, and I pulled a nearly full string into the boat, with many others following. Just a few drops later, the well was full and I was heading to Peaks Island with a lot of confidence! That confidence was based on the cool temps and gray skies, as well as the easterly wind pushing into the rocks. My efforts were impeded to a minor degree by floating and loose weed, and the quarter-moon tidal currents were weak, but I was still very surprised when I'd fished just about all of my favorite stretch without a chase or a touch. I carefully probed the "Washing Machine" area from multiple directions and I tossed baits into likely nooks and crevices, but still moved nothing. Crow Island also produced nothing; not even a sign of a bass. It was eerily quiet on the water. By 12:30 or so, I was starting to watch the weather with more intent. Thunderstorms were predicted, and the skies over the Falmouth shoreline were darkening. My original thoughts had included chunking and/or a visit to Broad Cove, but each of these efforts required time that I wasn't sure I had. Instead, I chose to revisit Clapboard Island (West). Going with the wind and current on my initial pass, my mack got smacked on top (finally!) over about 10 feet of water, right about where the last fish of the previous day had been caught. It was a shiny and bright 24-incher, and so much better than a skunk! I could have stayed and tried for another, but I really did not want to get caught in a thunderstorm, so I talked myself into heading in. The rain was slow to develop, and I probably could have safely stayed for another 90 minutes, but I was satisfied with the weekend's experiences. What do I have to say about this? Always better to be safe, than sorry; even if that decision is based, in part, on simply not wanting to deal with rain gear and wet belongings. I may have left a fish or two "on the table" with my early departure, but I also arrived home in a functional state. Yesterday, the striper fishing had been so easy; today, nearly impossible. I don't really know why (I'd have predicted the opposite), but at least I can accept that these changes do occur, and that I will never fully understand this environment or these fish. These unexpected developments help make this pursuit all the more interesting. And of course a day like today will likely be countered with one like yesterday. And with a little luck, like my next outing? Pondering the questions of core essence and finding meaning in unexpected ways |
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