I owe a couple weeks of reports and stories, and I will get these done and posted soon. But for now, just a few things from today.
Today (10/10) was spent half in my home office working on this computer and this was probably the longest stint at a desk since my departure from my day job (in May). I did get a lot done and that was rewarding. The other half of my day was spent down at Bennett's and on the water. It was a gray day, with intermittent mist and sprinkles. Cool, but not raw. Not yet anyway. My task on the water was to work on some scallops that I am growing for the fall market. Most of them are looking fine and about ready to go. Others are small and runted and need more space. These were late comers and that is why I needed to get out there and split them into smaller batches; to allow them to grow faster.
But before doing all this I scouted around the bay looking for fish. My first stop was at a rip along the main channel that usually produced fish. But autumn fishing is different from the rest of the season; the rips don't necessarily hold the fish anymore and they're usually in schools in skinny water. And this was true today. The fish weren't far off along a stretch of mixed eelgrass and sand. Almost every cast of my Meunier Green Bug produced at least two massive explosions and fish were landed every other cast. These guys were mixed from 18 to 22 inches long, but I noted several larger fish that proved elusive.
After a while fishing this one spot that was truly remarkable, I moved onto my lobster pots -- lots of lobsters just shy of keeping size, but three still in the fridge from earlier this week. Then to the scallops.
The fish were all around me as I worked. The sound was comforting but also alarming as my instinct was to throw a line out at the busting schools of stripers...but I dealt with the things at hand and now and then my cell phone ringer would distract me from the beckoning fish sounds.
Finally done on the farm and I moved along Two Rock channel to give it a try. The fish were going ballistic at the Green Bug and I managed to land a couple. The water was skinny (3 ft) and the fish were nuts. The sky was turning redish-gray and the light was slowly vanishing. Gregg Morris, a fellow aquaculturist and next-door neighbor out there, came cruising in to tend to something on his farm. We waved to one-another as usual and then, after taking in the tranquility and amazing sights and sounds around me, I throttled up and pointed the boat toward the harbor.
Nothing beats this.
