Late Nights in the Late Season

Late October and early November in CT are probably the best window in the fall run for a fly fisherman to get a big striped bass. There are big stripers around throughout the run, but oftentimes some of the last fish to push through CT are both really big, and willing to come into waters where they are fly targetable. Whichever full moon and new moon phase that is closest to Halloween is a prime objective. Noreasters can also spur a bite. So, for those of us who are really serious about catching stripers, this time of year often means we'll be spending a few cold, wet, possibly windy nights on the water. Many of them will be fruitless. Many of them will produce lots of fish. A few of them will produce one or two really large striped bass. This post is about one night that produced a lot of fish,  no real big ones, but was one of the more unusual nights on the water I'd ever had.

Mark and I set out on the night of the full moon with no really signs that that moon was there. The sky was turbulant that night, and southern New England was seeing a late season storm system that featured a couple tornadoes, waterspouts off Cape Cod, and some of the best lightning I've seen all year. By the time we got on the water the storms were nowhere near us. But they were still showing off. I watch one cloud to cloud lightning bolt travel what must have been 30 or 40 miles from one end of the line to the other way out over Montauk. Combined with the bright white full moon emerging out from behind the clouds, the calm and crystal clear water, coyotes howling in the background... yeah, the ambiance was something special. It made the fact that we were on a weird small fish bite more palatable.

Yeah, we were getting a fair amount of takes, but they were all pretty small fish and very, very subtle at our first spot. Most were just a light bump. Very easy to miss. And miss them I did, getting about one in five takes. It would be hard for me to swallow that kind of hookup ratio if these fish weren't all 18 inches.

when the tide stalled and turned, so did the bite. Often when the tide slacks off you are presented with a chance at the biggest fish of the night, and indeed right when the water slacked off completely I heard a few big pops way out of range. But neither Mark nor I were connected after the tide slacked. We moved, and as we walked to within ear shot of the up-current side of the bridge we were going to fish we could both see and here the fish popping. We were then treated to hours of a slow, steady pick of bass from 16-24 inches and then hickory shad later in the tide. It was fun fishing. And, for the second time that night, we had coyotes howling in the background. I do just adore this kind of fishing.