Jane's Day

Sunday, May 20, 2007

After taking Jane to lunch I decided to risk the question: So, do you want to go fishing with your dad? Her answer: Yeah!

We grabbed our little dog, drove down to the ramp, and set off on an early afternoon fishing trip. The weather was iffy. Small mini-squalls that sprinkled us every 10 minutes were alternating with short-lived sunshine. The wind was from the west at about 10 knots which provided some chop. But this did not deter Jane from smiling ear to ear when I cranked up the throttle and we sped off to the mid-bay region. Immediately we found some fish on the surface and we were the only boat on them. First cast with Joel’s Cherry Popper produced a short fish. Then I place several casts into the school and helped Jane reel in. She didn’t hook up, but had lots of follows and strikes. She then said, “Dad, I want to watch *you* fish.” So I did. A couple casts later and I had a 31” striper on the line. The fish flopped around on the deck for a while and this seemed to keep Jane and the dog alert.

We cut inside of Clarks Island, pulled one of our lobster pots, collected 3 sand crabs (pinkey toe crabs) which Jane loves to eat, and then went in. The rain became more steady and we laughed in pain as it hit our faces at full speed. The dog seemed unamused.

Cherry Popper Returneth

Monday, May 14

The call last night to Joel was not intended to be about getting together to fish. But within minutes our plan materialized and he was committed to meeting me at the boat at 5:00 a.m. This was good because Joel and I had not fished together yet this year (except for a January night in Fairhaven which was unsuccessful).

So this morning: an amazing crescent waxing moon was brilliantly cast across the eastern sky as I drove up the road towards the landing. No time for coffee…the DD showed no signs of life anyway. I was glad, actually. I promised myself not to return to that DD again after one of its regular workers proceeded to wipe the largest oozing booger out of her nose as she prepared my coffee – I fell ill a day later. As promised, Joel was waiting at the ramp and within a few minutes we were underway. He offered me coffee, but I declined. The tide was low but had turned an hour or so prior. We ran out to the mid-bay region and cut the engine to assess what was going on. We exchanged a couple of funny stories but our usual gut-busting laughing fits were not to be today – I don’t know why. The air was cold but the bay was flat calm and so, I felt, the conditions were perfect. And they were. In 30 seconds I spotted the fish out where the channels all meet in front of Bug Light. We were the first boat to arrive and within seconds Joel had his first bass of 2007 on. Then immediately I hooked up, and so this continued for about 15 minutes until more boats arrived, including a large lobster boat that uncharacteristically stopped to cast for bass.

The sun eventually rose up and more boats arrived, but the schools of fish were spread out along a half-mile stretch of water and there was ample room to pick and choose productive areas. I hooked a keeper on a surface plug (one of Joel’s homemade jumping minnows – the infamous “cherry popper” – produced in his basement in early 2006). This time the net was on board and Joel dutifully helped me land the fish. Within minutes he was onto his first keeper of the year and we reversed roles and I netted the thing.

It was nonstop action and fun. We each landed at least 25 fish, many good sized and good fighters. By 7:15 I said that I’d better return home to help get the kids off to school, which was something I was looking forward to. So, in we went, the wind was then just picking up from the north. Bright sunshine, warm.

I went in, but Joel had brought along his kayak and returned to the bay to fish the rest of the morning. He produced several, but they were scarce and spread out. He met me for lunch (striped bass sandwiches – with red onion and some hot sauce) and after hammering out some of my aquaculture nursery racks, we returned to the water. He went fishing off his yak while I flipped mud for steamers – not a bad day.

Mother's Day

Sunday, May 13, 2007

The thing about Mother’s Day is that it doesn’t often mix well with fishing for most of us. My mother-in-law is in town too, so this would not be the best day to head out on the water. But it also happens to be my birthday, so I figured I was on equal ground and managed to get out for a little while. I slept late and almost abandoned the idea of fishing. But when, lying in bed, hearing no wind and seeing overcast skies, I figured it still wasn’t too late for catching the morning bite. I grabbed our new little dog, Oliver, and out we went.

Basically the mid-bay was full of fish and it was FAC, like a silver mirror. About four or five loose schools were up and down and as many boats were following them around. I chose one school without boats and began. These guys were not biting, similar to the way Friday began. I tried everything, including the fly, but nothing. I reckoned that it was almost slack high and we just needed the tide to turn for the fish to turn on. And I reckon that this was the case because thirty minutes later the fish got hungry. The other boats began to converge in my little area so I took off to find a new school. I found them closer to Cordage channel and began to hook them on rubber shads and on the flyrod. The fish were smallish with a few big ones mixed in. I could see the big ones finning and swirling, and on one occasion I managed to cast right to one which measured 27”. But for the most part these guys averaged 18 to 20” in length. I am not complaining.

The dog, after taking his morning constitutional right in the middle of the boat, began to take interest in the fish and the birds. He peered over the deck and patiently watched the action. When I landed fish, he calmly watched me unhook and release. He seemed to be having fun, but what do I know about these things?

Everything was great until some jackass in a Lund arrived and decided to follow my each and every drift. This is the same guy who last year had aggravated me by following me right into skinny water and spooked away the fish I was onto. The entire bay was full of fish and here he has to park right next to me. I stared at him with an expression of “WTF?” and after a minute or so he seemed to understand my position on the matter.

But this was far from tainting my morning on the water. I found another school on the way in and had some fun for another fifteen minutes then quit for the day. The sun was coming out and Ollie and I were getting hungry. The tide changed and the wind was picking up from the north – they’d probably start getting more aggressive, but I was done. Time for Mother’s Day.

First Keeper

Friday, May 11

The alarm went off at 4:45 and I jumped right out of bed to get out to the fish. By 5:00 I was moving rapidly out toward the Bug Light which was shrouded in dense fog; only its tip showing. The fog was interesting. There were two layers: from the sea surface to about 30’, then a gap and a layer a couple hundred feet up. Only the midsection of the Cordage stack was visible and that was weird.

I zigged around a bit and cut the engine at my regular recon position to listen. A few large bait fish (or squid?) surfaced near the boat and I took a couple casts, but nothing. The fog was moving around me and I decided to inch toward shore a bit to keep the coast in my view. A few more casts where I thought I saw some swirls, but nothing. Then back out, then back in, then…I heard the terns through the fog, lots of crazy birds, and splashes. I followed my ears to the source of this noise until I was right up on about an acre of action.

The fish were difficult to hook at first. They were finicky and choosy. Slurping and rolling. And this is not always a good sign. When they do this they are either sipping on very small bait, such as polychaetes (worms), or amphipods, or they are just being lazy and playful. In either case, it is hard to hook a fish under these conditions and it is frustrating because you’ll see them all around the boat, smiling and gloating. Would the net be sportsmanlike?

But they eventually began to bite and within ten minutes their aggressiveness had increased to a pleasurable level. For a little while most of the fish I hooked were in the mid-20s in length and there were a few small guys in the mix. I experimented with several lures (the flyrod, left sitting in the garage, would have been best on this morning) and ultimately found the silver/white storm shad to work best. On one retrieve, the shad was quite visible and nearing the hull, when a large striper suddenly appeared, sucked the shad in, and turned on its run. “Wow!” or something similar came forth from my mouth while the line screamed down and out from the boat. The fight lasted a few minutes until I could see him – definitely a keeper. Oh yeah, no net – it was left next to the flyrod. Hmmn. Well, for a second or two I was envisioning filets on the grill on Saturday night – then realizing I had forgotten the net, I convinced myself not to think that way until he was in the boat. I tired him for a while, leaned down, drew my fingers around the line to guide the fish closer (and this is where most unlucky experiences occur) and tailed him (grabbed his tail) to get him in. He got in and I was happy about that. I was certain he was a keeper, but the tape….oh yeah, left that on my tool bench in the garage with fellow flyrod and net….no tape so I used best professional judgment.

I stayed another half hour and landed my last seven or eight on a surface plug – kind of a modified jumping minnow (white). This was cool because the bass went after this thing like they were pissed off that it existed. Often, the fish would simply hit the thing and send it flying with no clear intention of actually biting it. That sound is what its all about, kind of a pop and slurp mixed together: a “purp”. “Hey Bob, did you hear that fish purp?” Yeah man, wicked purpage.

I headed in around 6:45 to get the kids ready for school. They, of course, found it amusing to touch its eyes as I prepared to filet it. I measured him first – 31”. Anyway, the gut analysis was somewhat dissatisfying. It revealed mostly empty but a few small polychaetes. This guy was hungry.

So, two good filets for the grill and a rack for the lobster pots which will get more attention in about a month.

First Ones

Wednesday, May 9

Bright, sunny, and warm. I spent a couple hours working on my friend’s oyster farm – hand picking oysters for the market. The southwest breeze and clear skies made the flats look tropical due to the contrasting colors of the sand and water. When the flats finally submerged under the flood tide we all parted from the sand bar and I motored back around Captain’s Flats. And this is where I found the fish. Birds were working the water and fish were boiling. A team of four stripers playfully chased a squid next to the boat as I tossed my first cast which produced a striper in the low 20s. A couple casts later, another, but larger. The action only lasted 10 minutes. The schools relaxed and either stopped feeding or moved on.

Later that day I returned with friends A. and C. By this time (5:00), the southwest wind had increased significantly and this resulted in large seas in the middle section of the bay. We decided to hug the leeward coast, beginning at the mouth of the Jones River. Two follows and a couple strikes there, but the water was brown and murky and the fishing was somewhat uneventful. We traveled east along Kingston Shores and found a couple of small schools on the surface. Follows but no hookups. They disappeared quickly. Then I noticed a cloud of birds out near the Nummet and as soon as we arrived A. was into a large fish. It measured 26” or so, and after some spring testing of C.’s Bogo-grip pneumatic gismo gear, the fish was safely released to J. and A.’s relief.

We cashed it in there and slowly motored back to the landing under rose hued skies.