New England Trip Autumn 2011 . . . More Like New England Trip SUMMER 2011

Generally it was too warm and sunny, the nighttime temperatures were too warm, and it was too much like summer.  That is my summary of this year’s late-September New England fishing trip.  Montauk, the Surfcasting Capital of the World, turned out to be appropriately labeled, seeing as how I did a lot more casting than fishing.  After a sleepless night of driving out to the Light, our dedicated crew casted everything we had through a complete dawn session without so much as a hit.  With a 2-4ft south swell in the water I figured I’d better go look for somewhere to surf.


Two hours before departure the heat index was 77F.  The average high for the 24th is 74F.

Fortunately the waves worked out.  I didn’t even wait for a set to come in at Ditch Plains once I saw there were at least a hundred people in the water.  I figured to hell with that, I’ll go find my own wave, alone, away from the crowd.  So I checked the break in front of the hotel.  It was mostly shore break but there were some nice barrels.  I figured I’d go out there if I didn’t find something better.  My instincts led me to continue driving to the end of the road.  ‘There will be something up here’.   I walked on the beach and looked east and there it was, a perfectly peeling ripable peak over a rock reef- and no one was out.  I wasted no time getting into the water to indulge in some fun waves, as well to find relief from the scorching hot sun.

The waves were really fun.  2-4ft and glassy and peeling left and right peaks over a rock reef.  Eventually some people came out but everyone was really nice and non-aggressive.

The next day some more people were at the main peak so I found my own wave down the beach.  I had about 3 hours of the wave pictured above all to myself.  There were no closeouts.

Even though I didn’t catch any fish in Montauk, I still learned a few things about fishing there.  One thing was that the guys that put on wetsuits and swam out the rocks at night were the only people I saw having success.  Even though it was dark I could see they were fishing water that looked a lot more productive.  The end of my cast was the beginning of their cast.  So I kind of gave up after a while and watched them do it for a bit.  They were definitely catching fish out there, as evidenced by moving headlamps and camera flashes, and also from a more obvious sign of their fish lying on the beach.  Since I did not have experience with that, and since I surfed during the day instead of scouting rocks to swim to at night, I figured jumping into the water into the middle of the night in a strange location was not something I wanted to do.  That would be a project for next year.  So that was Montauk- too warm, no masses of fish, good waves, but a nice enough experience fishing with a very dedicated crew.  Next stop . . . Rhode Island.

There were actually fish in Rhode Island.  Bass and blues, not a lot, and with the action mostly brief bites around dawn and dusk, aside from a small blitz with finicky fish one afternoon.  Mullet were the primary forage, and the highlight, for me, was a mini-blitz that happened one afternoon in a very nice piece of structure.  Bass and blues had pinned a school of mullet into a perfectly shaped rocky bowl- a perfect fish trap.  The bass and blues were ravaging through the mullet, back and forth, but were pretty finicky relative to the show they were putting on.  My comrades and I had about 1 to 4 fish each, a mix of small bass and blues to 7lbs.  For all the surface commotion, we should have had more like 10 fish each, but a nice double rainbow and a bright orange sky from the sun setting on a passing rain shower made up for the funky fish.

This fish trap was my favorite spot to fish this trip.  Had it not been for a copious amount of weeds in the water which fouled the lure nearly every cast I'm sure I would have had a bang 'em up night at this location.

After the mini-blitz slowed, just before sunset, I navigated the rocky shoreline to reposition myself at an area where I could reach the bowl with a red fin.  ‘Now I will finally get a bite going’.  I figured the fish would start to bite better as it got darker.  I was right.  As soon as it was officially dark I immediately hooked up on a nice blue and two bass.  Being unfamiliar with my footing on rocks, it took me some time to unhook and release the fish, and by the time I was ready to cast after the third fish I lost my rock to the rising tide.  Damn.  Oh well, I figured I’d come back later that night after the turn of the tide and really bang them up.

The rest of the crew went to the bar but I skipped out to watch the new episode of ‘Jersey Shore’- my one television indulgence.  The show ended at 11:00 pm and I headed back out, alone, to go fish the bowl which I knew would have fish in it.  I couldn’t get anyone to go with me, not the first time or situation where this happens, so I went it solo.  I got to the spot, feeling confident, and BAM!  Fish on first cast!  I knew they would be here!  I unhooked a modest striper off my red fin and set him free.  I casted again and . . . weeds.  Ok. No big deal.  Let me try again . . . weeds.  Weeds.  Weeds.  Damnit!  I’m missing a bite because of weeds!  Weeds.  Finally I had a cast where I didn’t feel weeds . . . BAM!  A strong hit on the fourth crank but I dropped it.  Next cast . . . weeds . . . weeds . . . weeds.  Oh well.  This wasn’t going to happen.  I put on a single hook needlefish, which wasn’t going to work because it was too rough, and they wanted nothing to do with that.  I left defeated by weeds.  The fish were there I just wasn’t allowed to catch them.

By Friday, day after day of a horrible sleep schedule and missed adrenalin had got the best of me and I mostly gave up and crashed for the remainder of the trip through Saturday.  My energy matches the atmosphere.  If the fish are around and the weather is crisp and dynamic I could go night after night on little sleep and have freakish enthusiasm.  Unfortunately, day after day of marginal bites, no fall feel, and a week-long stalled frontal system to our west made me stagnate.  By Friday I was done.  The rest of the crew scored a nice dawn bite Sunday morning, Steve was high hook with five.  I would have liked to have been there for that action, but some swell from offshore Hurricane Ophelia was moving in so I chose to sleep a little later and surf instead.  For three years in a row doing this trip we have been plagued by a delayed arrival of fall weather.

Before I left on Sunday I surfed some fun 2-3ft+ lines from offshore Hurricane Ophelia.  The swell was marginal but broke well over the nice reef.

The bane of our fishing trip, weather wise, was a very slow moving low pressure area that was stuck over the Great lakes the entire time we were gone.  Ahead of the system, a weak flow of southerly winds kept temperatures well above well normal.  Since the air over us wasn’t moving much, temperatures climbed when the sun came out which made it feel more like mid-August than late September.  A front draped over the Midwest did not clear the entire time we were on vacation from start to finish.  Faster moving fronts and more dynamic weather is normally expected by late September as Canada begins to cool and energize our weather with temperature contrast.  Instead, our vacation was like a middle latitude stint in the Caribbean where there are no fronts.

Surface Analysis Maps from September 21st and October 1st

September 24th through September 30th air temperature anomaly.  How are we supposed to get a cold front if Canada isn't cold?

So I arrived back in New Jersey around 4:00 pm on Sunday afternoon.  I check the waves. . . and what do I see?  Birds!  Groups of birds were working as far as I could see north and south.  Figures!  Judging by the look of things, I figured small blues were working mullet or sand eels.  Finally the air had some fall in it, and seeing the birds and rough water I couldn’t resist pulling onto the beach for some casts. 

Back in New Jersey.  Now this looks more like fall.

The aforementioned front had finally passed through after a week and half of lollygagging and the air was cooler and crisp by Sunday afternoon.  It felt cooler than Rhode Island!  The cool air, working birds, intricate clouds and chunky hurricane swell made me excited.  See, I go for the whole experience, and to have the feel of fall in the air gave me a jolt of life.  I played around with the blues, hoping that they would keep me interested until a bass hung on but there were no bass yet.

It's a start.  Bluefish, albeit small ones, and a sky that actually looked like fall instead of a bright desert was invigorating.  It's good when you don't mind coming home after a vacation.

I was up on the beach this morning, Monday, and loads of mullet were around getting harassed by small blues.  The air was cool with a mixed overcast.  As I was leaving, I saw some bass popping out of the water blasting through a school of mullet but it was finally time to go back to work.  Let fall begin!