It Will Not Let Go!

December 27th.  On days when I don't surf or fish in the morning I like to take a walk up to the beach before work and stare at the water for five minutes.  It's like a meditation thing I practice to settle out any junk going on up there.  When I started across Route 35 on Tuesday, the first thing I noticed was a horde of gannets above the dune line.  Oh s*** I thought.  It just won't end!  I got to the beach and saw gannets everywhere, purple water, and a cluster of beach buggies.  Unbelievable.  The reports were even more amazing:

From my experience, from the 2000s to present, to have fish still around now is 50/50, but to have 20lb and 30lb fish is nothing I've ever seen before.  They weren't all that big, but I heard of a decent number of 'smaller' 30-35 inchers also in the mix.  By this time of year a 32 inch fish is usually worth a phone call to your friends instead of being a small fish.  I wasn't there because I was at work but I got some interesting first hand accounts:

ME:  Ok.  What the hell was that?  30lb fish from Brick to Seaside?  Are you kidding me?
RICK:  I was asleep when I got the call from Charlie.  By the time I got up there the fish were already a half mile north.  They were moving, north, so fast I could only get a few shots at them before getting back in the truck.
ME:  North?  30lbers?  What the hell?
RICK:  They weren't all that big, but I got at least a 20 and a few around 30 inch.  Shell E got the biggest one I saw on that new secret lure he's been using.  It weighed in around 31lbs.
ME:  Unbelievable.  Herring I guess right.  My neighbor said there was herring washed up on the beach in Seaside the other morning.
RICK:  Yeah they definitely weren't on sand eels, they were moving.  Part of the reason was probably the beach being so featureless.  Nothing to pin the bait against.  We got another shot at them, same thing, a copule hours later.

STEVE:  It was fast paced and moving north.  You would get a few shots at them, but then we had to keep moving to stay up with them.
ME:  Not like the sand eels.
STEVE:  We just kept going and ended up way past where we could drive.  No one really noticed because we all kept hooking up.
ME:  Haha.  I can see that happening.
STEVE:  I've never seen anything like this.  Write that in your book.  December 27th!

So the unbelievable fall continues.  With herring and even bigger bunker in the mix, and with milder weather forecast for this New Year's weekend, anything is possible.  I am going to stop saying it's over because I'm starting to get too good at proving myself wrong.  I'm going to give it some looks tomorrow, but will only fish if I see something obvious.  Friday I'm busy and I'll be away this weekend for New Year's.  If there's still legitimate fish around next week, in the New Year, I mean come on!

A surprising sight hit my eyes and camera lens on the morning of the 27th.  What a season.

 

 

 

 

 

 

About Ready to End It

Donald and I hit it yesterday, Christmas Eve morning, and though I caught 100% more fish than Donald, that was only because I caught one fish.  We gave it a good attempt, fished all of first light and covered a lot of sand, and definitely determined it was 'exhaling'.  One sure sign of that was the 'bird blitz' we found.  Ducks were pushing up sand eels which brought the gulls, and gannets were diving on their own while terns were picking up whatever the sand eels were chasing (never trust terns!).  The only ones missing from the party were the stripers.

From there we decided to just plug some holes with mambos on the falling tide- our favorite kind of fishing.  We looked for likely spots and there weren't many.  Since the weather has been trending calm a lot the structure had settled out since storms are needed to sustain contour.  We did manage to find a stretch of beach with better water, so we worked that, skipping from spot to spot with about 7 casts each.  It didn't take long before a nice 28 incher slammed my yellow mambo, and I got juiced up thinking it was the start of something.  6 more spots and 3 miles of beach later with nothing else we decided it was time to leave.

Since we haven't really had even marginally powerful storms since last year (even including Hurricane Irene), the beach has taken on a look of artificial replenishment and is devoid of structure that holds fish.  As the spell of calm weather continues, long-time locals report never having seen our local beaches in this condition.

Since Donald is off for the holiday week, he may want to get a ride from me again, and that is the only thing that will make me go back.  I usually love fishing this time of year, but with only limited areas of good structure, and the ones we fished had nothing in them, I'm kind of turned off.  So I will make my official declaration this week dependant on what Donald wants to do.  I am ready for it to be out of my head so I can get to focusing my laser on other things anyway.

There's Still Some Fish

It wasn't quite that many, but there was a report that a pretty good morning bite went down.  Good enough that if it was the first one during October I would be using a lot of exclamation points.  This is what it is.  You are not allowed to escape just yet!  And with a generally mild and benign ten day forecast it looks like winter is in no rush to begin.  We had a couple chilly nights, but the cold weather hasn't really taken hold yet.

When the alarm went off this morning at 04:30 I woke up with the motivation to fish, but then a greater motivation took over after I opened the sliding glass door and felt a dank south wind.  Sleep.  See, I'm still motivated, it's just that my motivation was elsewhere today in staying comfortable and being well rested.  That's a change for me, because before I would charge out there into anything, all the time, but I have since refined and realized it is smarter to balance my fishing addiction into- not on top of- my other addictions.

I think I'll sleep again tomorrow, with my next openings for Friday morning, possibly Friday evening, and Saturday morning.  When I deprive myself of it for a few days and do other things, it's like a pressure valve building up, so that when I get back there it feels really f***ing good.  The good news is there is still a chance to score a couple more nice sessions.

Starting to Plan the New Direction

I wouldn't say it's over yet and that I'm giving the interior of my pick-up a long overdue vacuum session, but I am going to put some air in the tires tomorrow morning.  After being spoiled for a while, expecting to catch numbers of keeper fish during each outing, the thought of getting out of a warm bed on a 25 degree morning to catch one fish- or not- doesn't really seem worth it.  Of course the chance is still there to get a decent bite, it's not like it's February yet, but I just get a little impatient once it gets to the trickle down.  It's like, alright, can we move on to the next thing already?  I already have winter planned out, let's go, let's go.  Onto the next!

Thousands of birds would obscure the ocean on days this at the time of this photograph when it's going on.  Instead, I only saw several seagulls working over the ducks that were pushing up sand eels.  I looked to the north and didn't see anything coming down.  Empty.

Now, someone will probably bang out something like 15 fish this week in two hours, but like I said I'm starting to pull out.  In other words, I have not finished, the gear is still on standby if I get the urge to make some casts later in the week or this weekend before the holiday.  I have been late to Christmas dinners before because of a blitz, so it's worth it to keep a finger on the pulse until at least New Year's.

What bothers me about the end this year is that the beach looks like a straight formless worthless nothing.  Translated to mean there are no structures, edges, points, or dips to hold fish over a long stretch, which is the type of fishing I count on after the blitzes subside.  At least when there are no fish it's fun to put your plug in some nice water, and until we get a storm that gives us more than a 3-4ft SE ground swell which does nothing to move sand, that situation is unlikely to change.  That's just a reason for me to have more sleep and prettier eyes.

Eithery way, a lot will be determined by what goes on this week.  If it still seems fishy I will hit it this weekend, but if not, done.

Steady Dawn and Dusk Action

I’ve been doing some thinking, not a lot, and reasoned that it’s like a fish farm up there right now.  It’s like the miles of sand eels on the back of the bar are grass and the bass come in and graze at their leisure.  There’s even some “cows” in the mix (I never like using that term) as I’ve heard reports of some 20lb+ fish still being taken.  For the fall, a 20lb+ fish is pretty serious. 

I was fortunate enough to score some well timed dawn and dusk action on Monday and Tuesday before it slowed off where I was on Wednesday.  Monday night was the best bite when Donald, Tom F, and I scored about 4-5 bass each in about 40 minutes using plugs.  Of those fish about one third of them were keepers.  The bass were very finicky on Tuesday morning, but it was good to see a lot fish around even though they wouldn’t bite.  Wednesday was slow so I slept in this morning, and of course probably missed something.

It was just the birds and me this week, or Donald and Tom F.  We had a great time banging out fish by ourselves with light plugs on Monday evening.

After hearing a report of Jim K knocking out 18 fish, I almost felt reluctant about saying this is the final third, especially since there are still plenty of larger fish in the mix.  What it is about this year, though, is that it feels very lazy and stationary.  Most of the beaches are a lot less structured than normal, so there hasn’t really been a move up and down the beach thing hitting edges which can be fun with sand eels. 

It’s kind of been more like go up to your spot and cast over a sand bar that looks like you’re in Georgia and if the fish are biting you’ll get them. Throw metal, throw metal, throw metal, repeat, and repeat, repeat.  Donald even told me a story about how he was nailing bass on a Yozuri behind people that were like robots throwing their metals out to the Azores.  The way the style of fishing has been has made it very easy to become a sloth dullard, making it hard for some to adapt to even a small change of conditions. 

One last fish for Tom and one for me is it for food fish this year.  The Daiwa SP Minnow has been a hit this week. 

The 34 incher pictured above sure felt heavy when I beached him.  When I walked the fish up to the top of the berm for storage it felt like I was carrying a sack of lead.  Lifting it into the back of my pick-up truck bed was a chore, as was carrying it to my deck for fillet work.  When I started the cleaning process I found out immediately why the fish felt like it was stuffed with cement:

Inside of it were 75 fresh undigested sand eels!  And that fish, being greedy, went for one more and it cost him his life.  Of course if I wasn’t there, the bass would have been fine, but another sand eel would not have been.  Figure out that riddle.  Instead of balancing the complexities of the food web, I decided it would be more delightful to spend a few minutes counting the sand eels one by one.  75!

Following another intrusion of mild air today, a pretty good west wind is forecast tonight and tomorrow which should lower the air temperature back to normal, and flatten out the surf as well.  Dawn, dusk, and night Friday has good potential, and so does Saturday morning, especially since it will be calm enough to throw small plugs and floating Needlefish.  I’d really like to get some bites using light plugs on my 8’ rod over the next two days.  It’s been enough of the championship long distance metal casting.




 

The Final Third . . .

Each end of the fall fishing season, as well as most other things, are preceded by signs of change. And every season there is a point in time- it’s hard to explain in words- but there is a time when it starts to feel like ‘the end’ even if only for a day. It’s when the surf and beach have a ‘sterile’ look that is best demonstrated by coming up on a cold February day after a snow storm. Of course, the fishing is still very good now, but if you get real in tune you will get it and will see that look starting.

Signs that we have entered the Final Third:

- Occasions of the sterile winter look
- The arrival of loons and pintail ducks
- Birds working schools of bait with nothing on it
- Cold nights
- A decline of fervent action and blitzes
- Smaller bass
- A highly scheduled dawn and dusk bite

Since the insane action of the past few weeks has waned, not from a storm disruption, and as the calendar drops closer to the New Year and winter, we are most certainly now in what I call the Final Third. The best of it has likely moved on.

I caught all of my fish alone or alone with friends this weekend since I am more of an old striper than a schoolie.  I like the final round because the fishing is just nice.

Fortunately with the multitudes of sand eels around, barring a snow storm, I will most likely still be fishing on Christmas weekend and maybe even New Year’s. The early abnormal snow storms during the past two seasons meant that by this time in those years that was it, but this year a pattern of more SW winds and milder calm weather should keep the snow out as long as a big warm bubble doesn‘t form over Canada.

The final third doesn’t necessarily mean it’s time to start bowling yet, rather now is the opportunity for some delightful sessions with smaller plugs, like mambos, since the fish are in close when it‘s flat. I scored a couple of keepers nice and tight, one on a Daiwa SP Minnow, and the other on a Boone Needlefish. I only keep about three or four fish per year and was only going to do one more for Tom, but my cousin snatched the one in the picture which was ok since I got Tom his tonight. It seems they’re onto a dawn and dusk thing now, and I have a program set up to get into those bites while balancing other responsibilities, so with high pressure overhead and calm weather the next few days should flow nicely.

Back to 'Normal'

After last week’s unbelievable action the size of the fish being caught now has dropped back more to what is expected.  If last week was your first experience with fall surf fishing, you’d be wise to leave the activity on a high note since your next outing will likely never be able to measure up, literally.  Since this weekend, I’ve seen and heard of more ‘Belt Buckle’ size bass in the mix.  ‘Belt Buckle’ bass are the size fish you’d expect to see on some one with a striped bass belt buckle, to borrow a term from Donald.  In other words, the 14-18 inchers.  There are still plenty of 28-34 inch fish, however, and I’ve managed to still scratch out a couple of keepers in each of my sessions over the past week.

With all the fish concentrated over the same three miles of beach day after day the crowds were maddening.  If you look closely, it almost looks like the two guys in the center of the picture were roughing each other up.

I like to complain sometimes, you know, to express the part of me that likes drama.  And there has been plenty to complain about.  The formula this year has created the worst crowd situation imaginable: easily predictable fishing, the fish concentrated over the same beach day after day, abnormally warm weather, and no rain most of the time.  I have never had my line crossed and my spot stolen as many times as this year.  I have never been encroached upon as many times as this year. 

Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like it is ‘common’ sense to know that you can’t hook the fish that’s on some other guy’s line, or that it’s bad etiquette to steal some ones spot, or that you can find your own fish elsewhere rather than sidling up to someone who is hooked up.  It seems the knowledge of those basic social behaviors is now the ‘uncommon’ sense since the proper moves seem to be practiced by an increasingly smaller number of people.

In addition to outright aggression and testosterone expression, the level of innocent incompetence this year has also been at an all-time high.  The following example is why a knowledge of reading the water is not only relevant to catching fish, but also to your life:

If Todd, as we came to know him, was not surrounded by a fine crew of experienced surf persons, or if something like this had happened at night, the outcome would have surely not been the same.  Todd got into this predicament because he didn’t understand the bottom contour, demonstrated by the way he walked off the edge of the sand bar into the rip current.  It was something to watch him getting out sucked out to sea in the rip only to have Steve save his life by actually catching him with his Skippy Tin Squid.  If not for Steve’s sharp mind and hook, Todd would not have made it, and that is serious now.  Meanwhile, as I was on the beach on the phone with 9-11 and taking pictures, I also had to guard Steve’s truck from a guy who no doubt had an intention to steal Steve’s gear.  I’ve never seen anything like it this year.

Here is a well written narrative of the rescue event by Chief500 of Stripersonline:

The Todd Rescue




 

'Historic' Fishing

It sounds like ‘historic’ is the keyword being used to describe what is going on right now.  The term is justified because it’s not only the numbers of fish that are around right now, it’s the numbers and the size.  Here are some examples of conversations I had while I was away from the water:

Rick:  “Well, they started out at keeper size and just kept getting bigger.”

Me: “How many you get?”

Rick: “35.”

Me:  “How many were keepers?”

Rick:  “Almost all of them.”

Steve:  "Well I just had maybe 22 fish in an hour and a half."
Me:  "Did you move?"
Steve:  "No."
Me:  "Any size?" (asked with sarcasm)
Steve:  "Here, you want to hear my tags? 30, 32, 33, 34, 35, 28, 36, 34, 26, 34, 33, 31 . . .
Me:  "Your smallest one was 26 inches?"
Steve:  "You want me to keep going?  I've never seen anything like it."
Me:  "You know I'm stuck at work right now."

So there it is.  Not only are there a lot of fish, but there are a lot of very nice size fish.  The only problem, and there is always a problem if you want to find one, is that the sand eels and bass are anchored along the same stretch of beach and it’s not a secret.  So along with ‘historic’ fishing there are ‘historic’ crowds.  The crowds have been maddening, to me at least, more so by the behavior of people pulling into other people’s territory with no regard.  That’s fine for survival, but isn’t very good for sportsmanship.  When I start nailing fish and people ask me, “What are you using?”  I will say, “My brain.  What are you using?”  If there are any synapses left in there that should jolt them.

Vinny and crew got in the action and had an entire day of quality fish.  “We’ve been throwing keepers back for hours now,” was Vinny’s report sometime during the middle of the day.  “My buddy just hooked up right now.  You got to get out of work”

A classic fall picture.  These guys had more keeper fish in one day than most fisherman catch in years.

Tom is back into the groove, literally, and is enjoying some fine dining courtesy of last weekend’s festivities. 

With sand eels banging my boots on the bar, consistent but finally cooler temperature forecast for at least the next week, and without any major storms, where are the fish going to go?  I am afraid already of what the crowd will be like this Saturday.  What I should really do is stop worrying about that and enjoy what is looking to be a once-in-a-lifetime season.  Mood management is of course easier with adequate sleep, however, this weekend is the Berkeley Striper Club Tagging Weekend which runs from 12:00 am Friday through 9:00 am Sunday so sleep is not really going to happen.  Sometimes I question this insanity, but after a fish or two I almost always forget what point I was tryig to make. 

 

Thanksgiving Weekend Part II

Thanks again Tom! Tom arrived after Thanksgiving dinner with an Umberto’s Pizza which I promptly ate since extreme traffic and discomfort from sunshine burning through my window gave me the idea to forgo my dinner plans.  More importantly, Tom’s powers crafted a splendid morning bite on Friday.  Tom, Doug, and I hit the sands early and had what is best described as an all around good time- the fish were there, the wind was just right, a nice little set rolled in every now and then which was nice to watch, the air temperature was comfortable, and no one crept into our space even though our party was putting on a show banging out the fish.

Doug holding one of the smaller models caught Friday morning.  Most of the fish that were taken were 30 inches or better which is remarkable for fall.

After the morning bite, the fish went into a steady feed, and we left them biting at 10:30am with a slow pick.  Now, I strictly practice catch and release, but by strictly I mean that I am flexible.  I used to keep at least 3 or 4 fish per fall until I got too lazy to clean them.  After getting banged around in the surf for hours on end, I realized the last thing I want to do when I get home is yet another somewhat intricate procedure.  But when Tom, who is in advanced school, lives on his own and has a girlfriend, asked if we can keep some fish I knew it was time to “feed my people”, a phrase that we like to say in a tone similar to Riley Martin, friend of the Aliens.  So it was time to keep some fish for Tom.  I pulled out two keepers in no more than the first 10 casts at first light and Tom landed his own half an hour later.  I really am still trying to figure out his aura, it’s like being around a magician or something.  We caught plenty more keepers but the cooler was already overstuffed!

Tom and I doing the double hook-up in the morning light.

I don’t know whether or not it’s touristy to weigh in a fish but it sure felt like it.  Of course, with it being the holiday weekend, I wasn’t going to let Tom get away without the full experience.  Tom received his wooden nickel and his name in the log book and on the website.  31 inches and 9.50lbs.  Nice Work!

After we left the beach that morning, I think Tom and Doug got to experience how doing this stuff can take over because even after you leave the beach you really aren’t done fishing.  We left around 10:30am and were scheduled to arrive back around 2:30pm.  In those four hours we stopped at two tackle shops, weighed in the fish, went to the bank, cleaned the fish, bagged the fish, dropped the carcasses off at the beach, talked on the phone with some people about fishing, re-geared the tackle bag, cleaned out the truck, let out and fed the dog, went to Wawa, and picked up a lunch/dinner combo of food.  And it was all done, of course, with military precision without a second to spare.  Really what we should do is move Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s to the middle of the winter to spice those months up more.

Two fish had empty stomachs and one had only 3 totally fresh sand eels inside.  This is migration time.  Feel free to criticize my fillet job, but explain your thoughts clear enough so you can make me better.  Either way, Tom went home with 6 real nice pieces of meat to “feed his people”.

We cruised back up for the afternoon bite, but couldn’t repeat the success of the morning, since the fish were mostly off the feed aside from a slow pick.  Like any good addict would do, I was undeterred and told Tom to plan for a hot night bite.  Unfortunately, when we got back to the beach later that night the weak west wind couldn’t hold and had shifted south.  Damn.  Sorry Tom, but I personally don’t fish at night during a south wind, usually, because it sucks.  We did the 7 casts per spot thing to cover a lot of ground but found nothing.  I blame the damp south wind for the lack of action, but either way we still had a nice night under the stars.  I thought maybe we weren’t working hard enough for them, though I heard a second hand report from two top notch sources that the night bite stunk, and they confirmed it was all a morning thing.

Saturday was possibly the world record for crowded fishing.  The holiday weekend, easy weather, and a near total lack of fish on most other beaches forced everyone to occupy the same strand of sand.  The people that are in the Ava jig business will be getting some fat checks real soon.

I have never seen a crowd like Saturday.  There were truly perfect conditions to create a crowd of historic proportion- no fish except anywhere except for one beach, mild weather and no rain, and with instant communication the way it is even farmers in Texas chopping down their dead trees probably heard about the hot striper bite a thousand miles away.  The fish were there again in the morning, but did not put out as motivated a feed as the day before.  Maybe they were finally a little weary of the thousands of Ava jigs being hurled at them from every which way. 

Doug and I cruised the beach just to watch the show.  After a bit we stopped where there was just enough room for Doug to squeeze in.  I decided I would nap for a bit while he went to cast.  Of course it was too entertaining to sleep when I could watch the guy next to Doug throw Avas on his 6 foot conventional set up.  And of course the guy hooks up on a fish.  Now, when you hook up and your fish is going down the beach, it is customary to keep in line with your fish and travel with it.  A simple ’I’m coming down’ is the proper etiquette for these situations. 

Instead, this guy’s fish runs off to the south at about a 45 degree angle, yet he is planted like a telephone pole.  Since I trained Doug well, he let the guy know that the fish was coming near his line.  The guy responded with a rather condescending ‘you better not be anywhere near my line’.  Hmm.  After about a five minute family photo shoot the guy spent another three minutes with pliers unhooking his single hook Ava before releasing the half dead fish back into the water.  I have no problem with people that innocently suck at fishing but this guy was not in that category!

It seemed the looney bin was also on holiday this weekend.  Actually, after watching this guy I was kind of sold on this one.  Going fishing?  Yes dear.  Don’t forget your ladder!

The bite continued to wane so that by Sunday morning I was content not to fish in the crowd.  I called Doug out of the water before sunrise with an idea that only certain people would actually find exciting.  ‘Let’s count everyone fishing on the whole beach!’ Doug was on board and hopped in the truck.  We started at the bottom of the beach and began the count . . .1 . .2 . . .3 . . . 100 . . . 200 . . . Hey look there’s Rick and Steve! Numbers 282 and 283 . . . 300 . . . Hey There’s JM and Billy! Numbers 317 and 335 . . . 400 . . . 500 . . . Dude, oh wait I almost didn’t see that guy (he was decked out in full camo waders and jacket) . . . 600 . . . 700 . . . 712.   

That’s right.  There were 712 people actively fishing at the water.  There were 200 in the first mile and a half of beach!  And of those 712 people only 3 had a fish on as we were driving by.  I interpreted that to mean it‘s time to get the hell out of here.  Such concludes the great 2011 Thanksgiving Day Weekend fishing extravaganza!

Isn’t it cool that you can pretty much find stuff like this in any situation as long as you are aware of your surroundings?  Kind of makes fishing shoulder to shoulder with 1,000 other people seem like a good idea.

 

Thanksgiving Weekend Part I

I passed my test.  The fishing this week garnered the following quote from Shell E Carris . . .

. . . and I do not feel bad for missing it.  Well, maybe a little, but it's just awesome that stuff like this happens in New Jersey!  And it was not just numbers.  Shell E said a lot of the bass were keepers and that there was a fair number of fish from 15-20lbs.  Hmmm.  That's just the way it goes sometimes!

Will and Doug were down this morning for our Thanksgiving Day tradition of watching miles of bass and birds going wild out of range followed by the fish coming in right as we are about to leave.  Seriously.  Just as we were about to leave at 10:00am, a small of school of bass broke off the main school, and was just in range on the back of the bar.  And of course I had to get a fat 30 incher on my "last cast".  That fish prompted about 50 more casts and made us quite late leaving the beach.

Doug actually prefers when the fish stay off the beach since he is a rope fisherman.  "When the fish are in I waste a lot of time fighting and unhooking fish," Doug explained.  "Today was great.  There was a storm yesterday and the fish stayed offshore today.  Perfect rope fishing conditions.  I wait all year for days like this.  This made my fall!"

Tom is set to arrive shortly, so that means we're probably going to have a pretty good morning tomorrow.  Maybe even a great morning.  Maybe even the best morning of the fall . . . 

You go to the Beach, You Catch Fish

In the last post I remarked that bluefish have been noticeably absent this year and right on schedule reports of blues on the beach start coming in. The dominant bite is still bass on sand eels, though, from what I gather. Word is the body of fish has slid south some. I haven’t been up at the beach much for the past few days because I am doing this training on my self to gauge my reaction to not fishing a few days during the peak of the fall run.

See, I used to be addicted to surf fishing, because I love it much, so much so that I would neglect all other areas of my life. It was so bad, that for nights in a row I wouldn’t eat dinner until 1:30 am because I was out fishing all morning, working, and then fishing again. And there I would sit eating my cold dinner at 1:30 am with racing thoughts about what I was going to do for the morning bite at 5:30. It was a great program for rapidly learning how to catch a lot of fish, but it wasn’t good for much else. Now that I know what I am doing, the past few days my body was tired and I felt a cold coming on, plus I had some other things to do, so I decided not to fish. Do not underestimate how much this amazing activity can control your life.  The only thing I ever want to be controlled by is a dominatrix so I figured I should make some changes.

Since I am away from the water, I can feel the stoke level building back up for the arrival of Will, Doug, and Tom this weekend. Tom is amazing, he has been in a city, owns no car, and has been plugged into the matrix since summer, but he will probably come down here and catch more fish than the locals.  Will too, the catching fish part, and he is also amazing.  Doug as well, who is above and beyond the 'buoy' stage :)  I hope these guys can experience a night bite using Needlefish or at least score in some other way.

I know there are fish right now, has been fish, and that there are some nice ones to 20lbs. I also know, personally, that I need to be more balanced and well rounded and not so extreme all the time . . . Until this weekend at least. For now, I am understanding there is no substitute for waking up without an alarm, to actually complete a cycle of sleep. I mean, you don’t start peeing and then walk away mid stream, right? Other functions of the body are not much different.  They feel good when you finish them.

Morning Bite Regimen

For at least the past 7 days it has all been about the morning bite. Miles of bass have taken up residence along the shore and have adopted some qualities of domestication, at least in terms of regimentation. Like many of us do, we eat at roughly the same time and work at the same time, the bass are doing too. The formula for a fun hour or two fishing each day is to have the discipline to get to the beach by first light and the ability to work a needlefish or metal lure in just the right way to induce strikes.

Though the fish are in a feeding pattern, time wise, not every one is catching fish the same like during a blitz. I have been having success working a needlefish with a lot of jerks, stops, and pops as opposed to just a straight slow retrieve. For example, in multiple instances after getting a bump I would shake the rod like a popper, and the fish would slam the needlefish almost instantly. Others are having success with slim metals, and metals with a black tail are hot right now.

A fantastic hour or two of fishing each morning has been the norm over the past week. Slim metals and Needlefish that imitate sand eels have been hot lures. Those who have been imparting some finesse with the lures have been taking the most fish.

Bluefish continue to be missing from the surf or are only mentioned like a rumor. It’s all bass right now and has been the entire time for the most part. It’s like a really good steak that is missing a sweet potato or side of vegetables. The action right now is really good; it just needs that extra bit of nutrition, which would be bluefish. Bluefish provide more action during the day and make the bass more competitive.

Either way, after a late start (warm weather and a lack of bluefish) now that the bass and sand eels have settled in, and the water is fishable more days than not, this season, so far, has ended up turning out very good.

P.S.  Just scored a nice bass and dropped 3 or 4 more in the dark not more than 30 minutes ago.  Since I know I will get them good in the morning I'm choosing sleep tonight.

Madness . . .

There is so much life in the water right now that just dipping a toe in would cure the worst state of catatonia. Miles and miles of gannets dive bombing the water, bass boiling the surface for miles at first light, hundreds of crazed fisherman patrolling the beach, yelling and shouting over the roar of the waves. It‘s an experience even for someone who has no idea what is going on up there. This is when the beach is alive. Long gone are the summer days of lazily sunbathing, unwittingly under the damaged stratosphere. Here are the days of engagement beneath a cooler sky.

A curious beach walker studies a mass of birds screaming over the surf.

There are sand eels, herring, bunker, and peanut bunker. Each morning at sunrise the ocean as far as the eye can see is boiling with bass. This is the best showing of bass in quite some time, actually I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen anything comparable. 2009 was a great fall, but was all sand eels that year so the fish were laying low. Last year sucked. With the mix of baits this year, the fish are showing all over the place, everywhere.

After an epic Friday, I still managed to put together very good morning bites this weekend with 12 and 7 fish, respectively. Unfortunately, junky SW and SSW winds seem to keeping the fish hanging out of the surf just behind the end of the cast, and have not made the night bite worthwhile. Out in the boats it's a different story. Eric H., who is normally a surf rat, motored out to sea and reported 60 bass yesterday and 100 bass today! Insane!

It’s a busy surf bag right now. An assortment of sand eel metals and big poppers and swimmers are necessary to adapt to the changing conditions.

It gets busy on the beach now, too, on a sunny Sunday when the word is out that the fish are in.

At all times in life, if possible, it’s important to be aware of your surroundings and the responses your are getting. I will not name a name, but I will say that it’s a good idea to try and work well with others when we have to be sardine canned like this. I witnessed an angler today walk over a quarter mile to take the spot, almost to the grain of sand, of one of the only anglers who was catching fish on the beach. If you were having sex, and when you took a moment to take a breath someone rolled you off and got in your place, how would you react to that? How would the offending adulterer expect you to react?

Judging by the holes in the ozone and the wars, I know there is still a challenge for many of grasping the concept of being ’civil’. Though it may seem daunting to solve it all, it’s still worth a try, and being respectful and courteous to others is a good way do go about it. How many industrialists have a mantra that says ‘I can’t change the world’.  Answer: None of the good ones. Carrying yourself well has a greater impact than you can imagine, especially if your imagination is dull.

Some pretty cirrus and cirrostratus clouds moved in this afternoon, associated with a broad flow of southwesterly winds that will linger through Thursday. So so for the fishing. Hopefully there is more west than south if it’s going to blow that long.

Will it ever rain again? The last time it rained in my backyard was October 29^th during the Freak Northeast snow storm. I noticed because I’ve been leaving my waders on the porch for some time now and I haven’t had any need to bring them in at night to the point where I’m saying ‘what the heck is going on here?’ And yet it someone pees on the rain gauge in Philadelphia tomorrow this year will go down as the wettest year in history. Lots of rain . . .dry dry dry dry dry dry . . . Lots of rain . . . Dry dry dry dry dry dry dry dry dry . . .

After being up since 04:30, I appreciate the junky SSW winds allowing me some sleep tonight . . .

Absolutely Epic!

This is Fall . . .

Cool weather. Miles of bass. Sand eels everywhere. Perfect sandbars. West Winds. Perfect amount of waves.

Wake up at 05:00 . . . Shave and brush teeth . . . Get dressed . . . At the beach by 10 of 06:00 . . . Birds are working the bars before it’s light enough to see . . . Bass start popping with the next stage of light . . . First fish on at 06:15 . . . 36 BASS TO 34 INCHES . . . Last fish at 11:45 . . . Epic! . . . Leave the fish biting to meet Donald for food . . . Eat a bowl of soup and some pineapple with a big glass of water . . . Ride bike to Charlie’s to buy more Ava jigs . . . Retool some tackle . . . Go back up but at 14:00 but the bite is off . . . Nap from 14:30 to 15:30 . . . Eat another bowl of soup . . . Gear up . . . Fish from 16:00 to 18:00 . . . Only 1 bass but quite a few hits after dark . . . . . . A fish ripped a hook off my Needlefish . . .  Seems like a night bite might be happening tonight . . . Drive to bank to get money and dinner . . . Eat dinner with a big glass of water . . . Retool some tackle . . . Going back for the night bite at 21:00 . . .





 

All 36 bass this morning were caught on a Shoestring Teaser and bright green 017 combo. I would estimate 20 of the 36 bass fell for the Shoestring.

Thanks to leftovers from Sean there was just the right amount of wave to keep the bite going. The waves stir up sand eels and keep the rips flowing which keeps the bass active longer into the day.

For me this was the best day of the fall so far. So that funk or whatever is gone. Crushed. Trampled.  I consider any event with over 10 fish worthy of recognition, so 37 bass today was certainly noteworthy. There are miles and miles of bass feeding like wild so my personal records may be in jeopardy:

100 bass in one calendar day
141 bass in two nights (70 the first night and 71 the next)

And the great part about right now is that it’s not just stupid fishing as some people like to say. Other than some surface action around sunrise, there was nothing to show the fish were there for the rest of the day. It was all about reading the water and looking for the most likely place a bass would be feeding among the sandbars and rips.

Epic!

It's a Steady Feed Sand Eel Bite

Wow there are a lot of bass around right now. For the past two mornings, bass were popping on the surface as far north and south as I could see. In some experiences, however, in spite of all the surface commotion the bass would not respond to lures. How exasperating it is to see fish splashing the surface for miles, yet not bite. That was my experience the morning prior and Donald’s experience this morning.

Following the morning tease, a slow or steady pick commenced and lasted through most of the day, and guys were picking away at fish as long as they could maintain casting stamina. Though the day bite was very good at times, never was there a frenzy feel or blitz feeling to the action. Instead, it was a choose some good looking water and keep casting metal kind of thing, but do that long enough and double digit numbers were attainable.

A steady day bite under sunny skies lasted most of the day on Monday and Tuesday, though was better Monday.  The night bite was also very good on Monday.

A Dark Cloud has Moved in . . . It’s Part of the Surf Fishing Experience . . .

Every person who fishes will at some point or another go through what I am experiencing right now which is a ‘funk’. It is something that happens eventually to everyone no matter what skill level or years spent fishing, and it happens regardless of preventative measure or steadiness of mind. I typically have one or two per fall season, and they usually last anywhere from 2-5 days. It’s my equivalent to a period since my body parts don‘t allow me to experience the real thing.

It began on Sunday night during my dreams. Everywhere I looked, to my left and to my right, everyone’s rod was bent but I couldn’t even get a hit. Then I got hit- with an inflatable pool that smashed me up against my Jeep and possibly broke a rod or something. Next I was on another beach, and I got the ’you just missed it’ from everyone when I pulled on. Even though it was ‘only a dream’ I got stuck into that mindset, the one when everything is going wrong and you say ‘What else can go wrong?’ And then of course you find the answer to your question. Maybe a better question would be ‘What can I do different to get off this track?’

Anyway, I woke up to my snooze alarm in the funk. It’s like a dark cloud has moved over, there is just something different. ‘Ok’ I told myself. ‘It’s here, but let’s just take it easy and let this thing run it’s course.’ I got to the beach and I knew there would be fish. ‘Once I get a few fish I’ll be out’ I told myself. The sun started coming up and the fish were popping everywhere- and they wouldn’t touch a thing. I watched them pop all over the surface for a good hour and threw everything at them. The only hits I got were on a popper which is normally a goofy thing to throw during a sand eel bite. One hour of boiling fish and I couldn’t get one to the beach.

I regrouped, and moved to another beach to fish the bars since the fish would probably start biting in the rips with the dropping tide. I pulled on the beach and spotted Rick with a bent rod. A guy to the left of Rick a few sandbars down also was hooked up. ‘Ok. This looks good. Right?’ Wrong. I went out on the sandbar next to Rick and fished the other side of the rip. One fish, two fish, three fish . . . Rick was banging them up pretty good. Four fish, five fish . . . And all I had was a half ass hit. ‘Screw this I’m going home’. And I left.

I had some things to do at home, but it was hard to function fully knowing that fish were definitely happening up at the beach. Forget about those stupid fish. Then later that afternoon Donald called me, ’You better get back up here. I had four fish in only 20 minutes. I have to go a meeting and I just left them biting.’ Ok Donald . . . Fine . . . You sold me. After a few hours of distracting myself with other things I felt better. ‘Ok. Time to get back to it now. I’m refreshed and ready.’

And then I turn the key to the Jeep. It sounded like someone shooting a machine gun. Damnit! It was idling so rough it felt like an earthquake. What the hell is this? This is just like that dream last night! The check engine light started flashing and I smelled unburnt gasoline coming from everywhere. I immediately turned the motor off. ‘Ok. It’s not over yet.’ I figured first I’d go up to the beach and catch a few fish, relax, and then deal with the car in an hour since I couldn’t drive it anyway. I went up to my local beach and couldn’t get more than a soft hit. Only 15 minutes after and only a half mile away from where Donald caught his fish I couldn’t even get a real hit!

So it goes. I rode with Donald today and we were on the beach from 1:30 pm until sunset. I had one hit and he caught a fish. ‘I’m telling you we were nailing them this time yesterday but they’re not here today’. I know Donald. We watched some other people catch some fish. I saw Dave hook up on 2 fish within 10 minutes. Then Steve came up and told us some impressive numbers from last night’s night bite and the day bite and how he caught 5 fish in 5 minutes on some magical sandbar earlier today . . .

Since I can’t have the real thing, this will suffice as my period. I’m irritable, moody, lazy, and I feel like I ate too much. After not catching any fish with Donald, AAA came and towed my Jeep away. I know there is a good chance of a night bite right now, but all I want to do is sit down and curl up in comfy clothes since I am car-less and fish-less.

This too shall pass . . .