Fat Alberts From the Rocks

There aren't really to many fish that I find worth sitting around on a jetty waiting for. It takes some serious patience to sit, watch, and wait in one spot almost all day for just a handful of shots. False albacore, though, definitely have the ability to make a person do that. And so I waited on Thursday, resisting the urge to go chase striped bass or bluefish. I did move a few times but I did so hoping to find a few new spots where albies could be targeted from shore, and although those moves did not lead to albies being hooked I did find two new jetties that had fish on them periodically and even a beach where albies came within range a few times. But for most of the day I was at my favorite place to target false albacore, and there were a handful of times when all tat sitting around waiting actually panned out.

The wind was really quite obnoxious. Not impossible by any means, but not easy to deal wit either. I did my best to position myself where I could cast downwind into pods of albies coming trough the spot. Although they weren't making their appearances regular their pattern was. For the bulk of the time pods were working the cove, I was able to observe their movements and get into place to make the cast right when the fish got in range. The first time a pod came through I made three casts into them and did not get a response. When they had left I took a peek at my fly and saw the problem, it had been fouled badly. 

The second pod to come through was small in number but the fish were some of the bigger albies I've seen this year. I missed the first take I got and the fish came around the corner into a spot were the usually stick around for a minute or so, giving me a comparatively long time to make a cast. I got the fly out and within a couple pulls a fish was on. It often takes an albie a few moments to figure out it has been hooked , but not this one. It went from hook set to on the reel in a second. My reel screamed and the backing burned into my finger, leaving a cut which is still visible. It ran and ran and ran and ran, farther and longer than any fish I've ever hooked. I have a lot of backing on my reel and I put two small knots in it to measure runs, and this was the first time I've seen the 200yd knot since I put it on the reel last year. The fish cut to the left forcing me to run the rocks. I got to the farthest corner and fought the fish back bit by bit. One of the two other fly anglers there was kind enough to tail the fish for me. And when he handed it over and I felt the weight I was stunned. This was unquestionably my largest albie, probably skirting the 10lb mark. 

Now, albies are an unfortunately delicate fish, and this one had come in tail rapped so I was uncertain it would survive. I gave it a horizontal thrust on the shallow side of the jetty so I could retrieve it if it sank to the bottom, which is what happens when you kill these fish since they have no air bladder. It did just that, but it did not go to waste. There's a guy who hangs out at this spot that was asking for my fish, and since this one was a goner I gave it to him. 

That fish made my day and bummed me out a bit at the same time. Albies are delicate fish so release mortality is expected; but they are also an extremely prolific fish, becoming sexually mature the same year they are born and reproducing for months every year. So it really isn't something to be worried about like striped bass or wild trout. 

I sat down for a snack and a drink to celebrate, breathing a sigh of relief. Then it was back to waiting. The next pod was much bigger, probably 10 fish. I had weeds on my fly when they first came in but I was luckily able to pull them off and make one cast. That's all it took. For the fifth time this year my reel was singing under the power of a false albacore hooked from the rocks. There is in fishing as thrilling as a pelagic fish hooked from dry land. 

This one was released and I was pleased to watch it's neon green and silver shape swim home. Two in a day again, and I was the only one there catching anything. I gotta say it, it feels good to be the lucky stick. 

A while later Noah joined me, unfortunately after the albies seemed to have called off their inshore marauding for the day. We ended up hunting for other bites, and I had a hunch we'd find bass on one of the jetties I had found earlier in the day. I was right. It was nice to end the day on fish that weren't exhausting to land.