Mr. Barnacles

Friday, July 13, 2007

Another early solo trip, but this time with Dog. It took a little longer to find the fish, but they were there again. Not as many large fish – mainly in the mid-20s. One near-keeper was fat and strong and peeled dozens of yards off my reel. Hopes up, ending in dampened expectations.

One odd thing did happen this morning. While drifting through the rip where yesterday I had snapped off my beloved Cherry Popper, I reflected on this event and even marveled at the idea of being surprised by finding it still floating around. Within seconds I spotted some line, weed, and…and…a popper. The mess drifted right past me in the exact location I lost yesterday’s lure…at exactly the same time. I snatched it up. It was not Cherry (that would have sent me to the bell tower). But it was a nice, old, barnacle-covered popper – Mr. Barnacles. I cleaned him up a little, leaving the barnacles intact, and stowed it away, where Cherry would have been resting. His test will come up soon.

In all, about a dozen nice stripers this morning – one just a quarter inch from dinner. The dog’s ass, black from sitting in the boat muck, shivered on the way in.

July 12

Out alone this morning. Low tide, coming in. Big fish in the rips - going completely ballistic after my lures. So wild that they would often send the plugs several feet up (vertical) and hookups were difficult. A large Sluggo? Devoured and destroyed in short order.

Lost my cherished Cherry Popper this morning to a (typical) Penn reel malfunction. SNAP - @#$%!

AM fishing continues to be great. PM has been less so.

...And Then The Rod Broke.

Tuesday, July 10, 2007

The dog came along this morning. Pea soup, like totally thick. GPS worked out well. Found the fish in short order and soon was into a group of feisty stripers that ranged from 25 to 35 inches. Landed one on a surface jumping minnow (Cherry Popper), then switched to a massive white sluggo that Joel Meunier assembled with a double hook gig. First cast and the water erupted around the sluggo and a 26” was on. Nice. Second cast, more eruptions but no hookups. Third cast - *SNAP*! The lightweight Temple Fork busted off at the first ferrule. WTF?! The dog stared worriedly at me as I retrieved the entrails of the rod back into the boat and swore at it a couple of times. But the morning was not over. I switched over to my flyrod. I continued to work this area for a little while before deciding to move to a different spot. One nice strike out there that looked like a blue, but the weed was bad and another boat decided to troll in circles around me. I returned to the original spot and immediately hooked into a couple of near-keepers on the fly. Fun indeed, but what with the busted rod? Most likely it went because the ferrule connection had loosened up and I was enthusiastically heaving a heavy sluggo - woops. I’ve heard that these rods, which are quite nice, need some candle wax in the ferrules to ensure complete connections. I’ve learned my lesson.

"That's What She Said."

Wednesday (7/4)

I almost rolled the car over Joel. Returning late from a game at Fenway Park, my son and I discovered a lump in my front yard, and it was, in fact, Joel Meunier wrapped up in his sleeping bag, titsup, and dead to the world. He had participated in the Marshfield fireworks chaos earlier in the evening and at some point we decided over the phone that an early trip out on the bay was warranted. I had also called John Daly (who was still in town) and the plan was firm – 4:30 at the boat.

This we did. The day looked amazing: calm winds, clear skies, and an ebb tide about halfway out. The first couple of spots we tried only produced one fish for Joel and this worried me. No luck in these areas meant we might have to really work hard to find whatever was in the bay. But I was confident and after about 45 minutes we found them along a very nice, picturesque plateau of smooth water that was quickly rushing over a bar. The fish were limited within a very narrow zone, but there were large numbers of them and between drifts we would see them surface after whatever baitfish flowed over the rip.

Immediately we were into them. Joel and I reserved ourselves the stern of the boat to throw jumping minnows, swimmers, and Fin-S baits on light spinning gear while John worked his flies from the bow. Each drift produced some feisty stripers – most measuring out in the mid to upper 20s. Joel’s first fish attacked his popper, “Ah, nice…now that's a big one!” Joel exclaimed in a stern tone. The joking ensued (see Subject Header, above).

The action continued until we simply ran out of time. We were all short on time; John was scheduled for a holiday road race and Joel had to drive north to NH. So, we ended the morning by quickly checking my lobster pots and poking around a few more rips. No lobsters or additional action. But the morning was a success.

To the Flatlands

Monday (7/2) - A decent westerly breeze, turned northwest over the hours this morning. Best action found early along rips in the central areas of the bay. Very small blues were biting along the Bug Light whirlpools.

Today my guest was John Daly from Burlington, Vermont. An avid flyfisherman, John was totally and completely psyched to have a morning out on the bay. In all we did pretty well, but would have liked it just a little better. A few fish in the low 20s, and a few small blues. But John lost a couple of beauties...one was certainly a keeper. We watched the fish follow the fly over the dense eelgrass meadows, open wide, and clamp down on his sorry fly. But alas, the hook didn't set right and the fish soon turned and ran. This event produced immediate spasms of frustration and jumping fits, but with big grins. Oh well.

The new tide brought crystal clear water into the bay and the flats looked amazing as usual. But today the fishing required some hard work as the bass were tight in specific rips under a bright sun.

John’s philosophy was simple and admirable: he was fishing not just for the fish, but for the opportunity to fish. Just knowing that they were there and he was there too made him the happiest man in town.