Critical Factors: Fall Run Stripers

Reading signs is key to any fishing. Observation skills are the most important tool in my arsenal for finding and catching fish. The subtle signs of the presence of bait, the way wind works around a wood point, the contour of a shoreline... these things all matter. Some level of intuitiveness is equally necessary, as it isn't always obvious what fish will do in relation to a change in condition or in relation to structure. Bonito may feed heavily in the rip at the end of a point on one tide, or may cycle in a lazy eddy outside the rip on the opposite tide. Smallmouth bass may favor the windward or leeward side of a boulder on a reef in a lake depending on minute variables I've yet to decipher. Trout seem to feed well on a midnight full moon in the winter, but such nights see a big decline in activity in the summer. The intuition based on observations comes with time for some and for others it never happens. For a precious few people, it is ingrained. Some people are born looking at the natural world, with innate curiosity and a drive to understand it. For those of us who sat intensely watching bugs go about their business before we were even verbal -children whose curiosity wasn't broken down by parents and teachers but instead encouraged- observing and attempting to decipher the behavior of wildlife is second nature. Whether learned or ingrained, vigorous observation is what separates the casual angler from the obsessive. 

 

Two consecutive nights in my October striper tear highlighted just how crucial being observant and detail oriented can be. The first of the two was the best of the lot. The second, which followed the same basic itinerary, showed just how much a single condition change can alter the fishing. 

 

October 8th, 2020: Partly cloudy, Northwesterly wind, dropping tide.

 

Before sunset the wind had schools of peanut bunker that may otherwise have been wandering the middle of the shallow cove shoved up against the southeast bank. This was a rip-rap edge and the deepest part of the cove where a bridge channel creates a big eddy and a small eddy on the incoming; these eddy swirls have dictated the structure. Bass hold in the deep holes on either side of the bridge daily and feed opportunistically unless a large volume of bait is present, as in the case of these peanuts. The bass were blitzing on them this evening and following a patternable cycle, as well as holding on the channel edges. They responded well to attractor flies, be it a Gamechanger or large Snake Flies. I find these flies more effective than imitative patterns when sparse bass are feeding on thick schools of peanuts, as well as more likely to pull bigger fish out of the fray. None of these bass were large, but they weren't tiny either. The average size was somewhere between 26 and 27 inches and there wasn't much variance.

 

As darkness fell the blitzing ceased, as is often the case, and I eked a few more fish off the channel edge before deciding to move to the outer bridge, which unlike the inner bridge, was lit. It is not an uncommon occurrence for me to encounter a forage preference switch between daylight and night, and with schoolies and slot sized stripers a common switch is from juvenile menhaden to silversides. The abundance of eel grass in the area I was fishing made it a silverside magnet, and silver sides are attracted to artificial light at night. As day progressed to night, silversides vacated the shelter of the vegetation and congregated in huge numbers around the lit bridge and along the beach either side of it. I knew I could pick off fish under the bridge, and I did, but they were not easy or consistent. Though there were fewer bass along the beach, a slow and steady retrieve with a small flatwing produced fish. By the time I felt satisfied and like I wasn't going to miss anything, I'd caught and released 25 striped bass. 

 

October 9th, 2020: Mostly clear, Southeasterly wind, dropping tide. 

 

Noah tagged along this time. The wind change had moved the peanuts and as a result, the bass that were still present at the inner bridge were in an opportunistic but resting mode rather than in active pursuit of bait. We caught fish sporadically until sunset, and when, as had been the case the night before, the activity turned toward silversides, I decided that instead of moving to the outer bridge immediately we ought to follow the pattern of fishing away from the bridge. Up the rip rap bank to the west of the bridge a few fish were feeding, and Noah and I both picked off a few more there and each missed larger ones before leaving. Though there were less silversides because it wasn't lit like the outer bridge, the bait and predators were still following the same basic pattern as it related to depth, and some were leaving the channel and moving into the adjacent shallows. I suspect that following this pattern could produce some very large bass for me in the future. 

 

At the outter bridge, the pattern was not wind dictated and it fished no differently than it had the prior night, so I didn't want to spend as much time there. We headed to another place that I hadn't been hitting at all, where we found a few smaller bass to close out the trip. There, I also caught fish away from the bridge channel.

 

The most important thing I take away from two such nights is that different patterns can be repeatable across different conditions and locations, but there are common threads. Wind direction is important. Type of structure is important. Tide is important. Everything could be important. It is up to the angler to figure out the rules of the game. 

Until next time,

Fish for the love of fish.

Fish for the love of places fish live.

Fish for you.

And stay safe and healthy.

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