I didn't really target stripers this winter. I didn't feel I could justify my want to catch some in the face of clear evidence that mortality is drastically higher under winter conditions, and the obvious decline of the stock. As usual I also started consistently hitting herring runs a bit late. There had already been alewives in the creeks for more than two weeks when I made my first trip. I didn't bother checking the tides or anything, I just went. Upon arrival, I could see the swirls of spawning alewives in the shallows illuminated by the lights from nearby houses. The ospreys and bald eagles had already settled in for the night, but a few great blue herons stood vigil along the banks. I was using my kayak to get around, and the cold dark water dripped off my paddles as I paused to tie on a large Sedotti Slammer variation. It was time.
Upon reaching my destination, I dismounted from the kayak to fish from the sod. Making repetitive casts, I waited for a grab. My patience has been my strongest attribute in the pursuit of big spring striped bass. I will stand for hours in the cold, the rain, and the wind, waiting through hundreds if not thousands of casts for that one sensation: the thump of a striped bass swallowing my fly. This isn't a pursuit for those who like sleep, or those who desire steady and consistent action. Catching big striped bass on the fly is very very hard to do in today's fishery. This is my pursuit though. I've come to adore it. There's little I'd rather do than listen to spawning herring for hours while waiting for that thump.
This time the thump came early. I don't think I've ever gotten a striper on the first trip of the year, but an hour into my 2021 bass season I was strip setting as hard as I could and a good bass was angrily trying to shake the herring that it must no longer have thought was the real thing. I was fishing a my new 12 weight and this was the first time the rod would be put to a real test. The fish put on a good show with a few short but screaming runs and some violent thrashing at the surface. I was very pleased when she rolled in the shallows and I was able to get my hand in her mouth. The first striper of the season was an excessively heavy 35 incher, maybe 18 or 19 pounds. Her gut was packed full of alewives. As I slapped her tail and watched her tear off, leaving me dripping wet from tail splash, I hoped that she'd leave the river soon and continue on her travels. Perhaps she'll spawn somewhere along the way. Maybe she already has.
So my first bass of the year was a good one... I spent 3 more hours out there that night without another take, but that's alright. I didn't need one. The overall theme of the season had already been set. Persistence and a well thought-out approach would prove fruitful this spring. The convergence of herring and predators had just begun. There are many more stories to tell, and I will tell them all in time.
Until next time,
Way to start off the season with a bang. I got my first migratory fish last weekend as well. Although much smaller at about 20 inches but still put a bend in the rod.
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