Surprise Rhode Island Northern Pike

 November 12th was one of those horribly unpleasant weather days to fish in, featuring high wind and very heavy rain over most of Connecticut and Rhode Island. It was at least vaguely warm though, and it was the sort of weather that gets predatory fish fired up. Subsequently, I was going to fish. I didn't want to fish for very long or far from my partner's apartment, so I drove less than five minutes away to a spot that I knew had potential but hadn't fished before. I didn't really know what to expect but it was exactly the sort of spot fish will stack up at in late fall during high water: a big slack water with reasonable depth, just off the main river. Most of the food chain utilizes these spots, from macroinvertebrates, to small shiners and dace, to panfish, bass and larger predator fish. 

The water was high and cold; I struggled a lot last season to get fish in this same river around this time of year. I'd not yet dialed in many areas though, and I'm still doing a lot of exploring and learning here. It was a crap-shoot, this spot, and though it appeared textbook, I wasn't sure I'd catch anything. I started out simple, hopping very small jig streamers along the bottom. This served two purposes. Flies like this catch everything from suckers and panfish to trout and bass, so it would give me a good idea off what was present (if anything). It also served as a way to feel out the bottom contours and find snags or hidden structure. That inevitably meant flies were lost, but that's just part of the game. I did start picking up fish. First, some pretty yellow perch. Nothing huge but nice to see and great to get the skunk off with. Then, a few good bluegills, and a roughly 2 pound smallmouth that I lost. That stung a little as larger smallmouth are pretty rare in this river and that was the largest I'd hooked here. 

I eventually decided to tie on a larger streamer, namely a conehead Marabou Muddler, and try to tempt a larger predator. This did not go the way I expected it to when, merely three casts later, the fly was smashed to rod lengths from me by a northern pike, and not a small one either. I didn't know there were even pike in the watershed so I was taken completely by surprise. I hooked it, but immediately was sure I'd lose the fish. I was using 10lb tippet and I'd seen the take; there seemed little hope my fly was pinned at the tip of the snout or somewhere else that would make a landing possible. I felt a bite-off was inevitable. Miraculously that never happened. I actually landed the fish. I was giddy. I hadn't targeted pike much at all this season, and with the exception of the one lone big one I got early in the season, hadn't encountered many of this species in 2021. To get one five minutes from the apartment in a watershed I didn't know had them during just atrocious weather was awesome- let alone on a 5wt and 10lb tippet. The fish was snub-nosed, which was a big factor in why I was able to land it. It was very healthy in terms of bulk and energy though. 

I stuck it out for a little while longer with only a few more perch, but I was sure the fight with the pike had disturbed the spot a lot. I left soaked to the bone and happy as can be, with a new task to latch onto- find even more pike in Rhode Island. Up until then I'd only heard about one body of water within the state that had any. Since then I've done quite a bit of research and scouting though and have half a mind to put in a solid effort to dial in some bites over here. It's funny how much one fish can change your mindset sometimes. 

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.

Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, John, Elizabeth, Brandon, Christopher, Shawn, Mike, Sara, Leo, C, Franky, Geof, Luke, Streamer Swinger, and Noah for making Connecticut Fly Angler possible. If you want to support this blog, look for the Patreon link at the top of the right side-bar in web version.

Edited By Cheyenne Terrien

Striped Bass Everywhere

 On an exceptionally dreary October day, my schedule lined up with my good friend Mark Alpert's and we were able to get out on the water after fall run striped bass. It was choppy and grey out there, exactly the sort of weather that gets stripers chowing. I was subsequently a bit surprised then, by the general lack of activity initially. We covered some territory that I'd been having good luck on during the week or two prior without seeing enough life to feel confident. We then did find a little blitz going. It wasn't anything spectacular but it at least got the skunk off the boat with a few very small schoolies and hickory shad. 

After that, we found what we'd been missing. A few birds and boil initially keyed us into the productive water, but we didn't need to chase small blitzes. There were fish all over, a super-school. Every cast for some very long drifts got some sort of reaction. The first fish was a beautiful 34 incher, to be followed by a lot more fish from the 2015 and 2014 year classes with some younger ones mixed in. There's currently quite a few slot-sized bass in the biomass, which is nice as these fish aren't yet so big that they're less inclined to spend lots of time in the shallows and are perfect fly rod fish, but it is unfortunate to know that this won't last. These are the size fish that get hammered by party boats and there are very few bass that will be attaining slot size in the coming years. I'm trying as much as possible to enjoy them while we've got them though. 

Soon we were doubling up constantly blind casting large flies. Mark was fishing a Big Eye Baitfish, I was throwing my go-to large, white Bulkhead Hollow Fleye. 

I've far more confidence in large, white action flies than I do accurate imitations for most bass blitz fishing. There are plenty of circumstances that call for matching the forage, but there's also a lot to be said for a big, obvious, visible fly that darts and weaves. If it results in a lot fewer eats and commitments or notably larger fish moved, it isn't worth it. Otherwise, it's always go big or go home for me. Bad weather with chop, stained water, and dark sky is the perfect scenario for this mentality. Add to that an over abundance of targets and the stage is set for very exciting, big-fly fishing; soon we were totally surrounded by blitzing bass, feeding on both adult and juvenile menhaden. It was an incredible scene and between pulling on fish, I took a few moments to bask in the mayhem. We were catching plenty of fish, my arms would be spent by the end of the day from pulling on bass. I'd have missed out on more by continuing fishing than I did by looking up and just enjoying the show now and then.

Fish weren't in one area, or even holding to specific structure a lot of the time. There seemed to be bass just about everywhere we looked and everywhere we cast for a big chunk of the day. They weren't always blitzing. Only small adjustments were needed in order to stay on the fish.We had a couple small lulls, but for the most part if we kept casting we kept getting takes. 

We even slowly attempted to move back towards the launch, content with our success, but kept getting distracted by big blitzes. There were a great many "last casts" made that day. The fish just kept our attention for hours. It was awesome. 

The fish bellow, a 29 incher, had a littoral society tag. Unfortunately, the tag was thickly covered in algae and after momentarily attempting to rub off the algae, I decided it wasn't worth taking the time to do so; it would clearly have required me keep the fish out of the water for much too long to clean the tag and take down the information. That's the first tagged bass I've caught. I once cast at a quite large striper with a visible tag while flats fishing, though. 

Eventually Mark and I were able to peal ourselves away. We didn't really need to catch any more fish anyway. We had a boat total that certainly exceeded 75, with a bunch of nice sized ones in the mix. We didn't get any true cows, but it is very hard to complain about a day like that. 

November is now almost over and the year itself, as well. This has been my best striped bass year. As of today I've caught 48 bass over 28 inches on the fly this season, with two shore-caught 40 inch class fish and my personal best and first 40 pound class fish on the fly. I could still get another 40 incher this season, but while the year comes to an end it's important for those of us who had a good season to reflect on what that means for the stock as a whole. 

It means very little. 

The stock is still in a bad way. There are numerous very poor year classes. The Chesapeake Bay is still incredibly polluted. There is still rampant poaching. There is still an awful lot to be done, so don't get complacent. 

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.

Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, John, Elizabeth, Brandon, Christopher, Shawn, Mike, Sara, Leo, C, Franky, Geof, Luke, Streamer Swinger, and Noah for making Connecticut Fly Angler possible. If you want to support this blog, look for the Patreon link at the top of the right side-bar in web version.

Edited By Cheyenne Terrien

November Morones

 Noah and I headed out under dreary skies one November hoping to find some big striper blitzes. Some had been happening in the days before, and indeed that very morning in a different area. It had rained a lot the before, though, and that often puts striped bass into a lethargic mood sends the bait packing. We were still hopeful that a large biomass of stripers would be around, especially since there had been tremendous numbers in the days prior. Our first drift on a key mud flat produced a 28" bass for me, and multiple boils and hits for both of us including with some particularly good fish. That made me very hopeful. Subsequent drifts came up empty.

Morone saxatilis

After a few runs through water that should have been but wasn't giving up fish, we made our way into some backwaters to looks for what would likely be smaller but more willing fish. We set up at a choke point where lots of hickory shad were rolling. I picked up Noah's light setup while he continued to throw bigger plastics for stripers. At first I just used the jig he had tied on, then I switched out and actually tied a Clouser on. Noah had figured out that a lot of treamers that i'd left lying around his van  were perfectly cast-able on his light setups. I was interested to mess around with it in a situation where it would be particularly conducive. I also wanted to see if I'd have any interest in buying such a setup for clients who aren't interested in fly fishing, as ultralight tackle has a lot of crossover with fly gear and I'd like not to limit myself in terms of clientele. I caught a load of shad on both his jig and my Clouser, and they were a lot of fun on a light spinning rod. 

Alosa mediocris                            Morone saxatilis

Something then made me switch back to the fly rod though: a fish Noah caught, a fish he and I have been after together for years. Our mortal enemy, our biggest foe. Our most difficult adversary. A large brackish-water white perch. 

It took a big plastic, which just seemed ridiculous. The fish was 13.5" long and very hefty, a truly impressive specimen, and of course I immediately wanted to try to catch one of those.

Morone amaricana

I didn't. Noah didn't get another either. We ended that portion of the trip having had both Morone species present in CT on the boat though, and I certainly haven't experienced that before. Noah hadn't in a long time. It was pretty cool.

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.

Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, John, Elizabeth, Brandon, Christopher, Shawn, Mike, Sara, Leo, C, Franky, Geof, Luke, Streamer Swinger, and Noah for making Connecticut Fly Angler possible. If you want to support this blog, look for the Patreon link at the top of the right side-bar in web version.

Late Fall and Winter Trout Season

 We're progressing into a colder weather pattern here in New England and the fishing is changing. Dropping water temperatures and higher average stream flows mean generally slower fish behavior. That doesn't mean slower fishing though. It actually took me a fair bit of time to really dial in the late season trout bite on my local waters. Part of what it took to dial that bite in was just incessant bobber fishing and small but stupid heavy streamers. Since that isn't a fishing style I liked for a long time, I ended up missing out on a large amount of the season. Once I did pick it up though, I covered copious amounts of water to figure out where the wintering holes were, and when I did find them I found loads of trout stacked up. 

 

I then of course wanted to answer a question: could I catch these trout at night? It turns out the answer was yes. Even in the dead of winter, with fine tuned strategies and slow ad methodical approach, I was still able to pull on fish after dark.

If you are looking to improve your success during the late season, or learn new water and techniques, I'll be booking trout trips throughout the winter. Both daylight and nighttime trips will be available- hand warmers included on all trips, haha! 

A big thank you goes out to those of you that booked me already this year, you've all been fantastic and I greatly appreciate your business. I hope I'll get to see some of you folks again! 

In the meantime, I'm considering starting a series of zoom classes on fly fishing strategies, fly design, and reading water. If that sounds interesting to any of you, please comment to let me know. 

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.

Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, John, Elizabeth, Brandon, Christopher, Shawn, Mike, Sara, Leo, C, Franky, Geof, Luke, Streamer Swinger, and Noah for making Connecticut Fly Angler possible. If you want to support this blog, look for the Patreon link at the top of the right side-bar in web version.

Eating An Albie

 I've heard all manor of descriptions of what little tunny taste like, and very little of it good. Something I've learned throughout the years, though, is that most fish are very palatable and usually better than that. Being adept at handling the fish after you've harvested it, cleaning it properly, and cooking it appropriately make all the difference. Of course there are some fish that some people just won't like- everyone has different tastes. I used to be incredibly picky about fish. Now I think it's all about how they're done, though. I've eaten quite a few fish species that I've seen anglers turn their noses up to- walking catfish and sea robin to name two of the oddest. The only fish that was genuinely unappealing was chub mackerel, and that's just because we didn't get it on ice fast enough. So, naturally, it was only a matter of time before I brought home an albie.

The opportunity arose the morning of a gnarly storm that brought heavy rain and wind to southern CT. It was absolutely pouring just minutes after I arrived and there was very little sign of activity, but I wasn't there to sit in the dry car and wish I were home. I cast, and I cast some more. Then suddenly one of my retrieves was stopped by the abrupt take of the fastest fish a fly angler can tie into with their feet on the New England shoreline. And here I was, ready to fight it with a cheap Bass Pro Shops brand fly rod. The 9wt Heat did the job admirably, and soon I had a beautiful and hopefully delicious fish at hand. I'll say it one more time: expensive gear isn't pivotal to success. I'm having a lot of fun with that silly rod. 

That was my only fish of the day, but that's all I really needed. I quickly bled it and left it out- no need to get it on ice, it was being pelted by cold rain. After being drenched to the bone and beaten up I went home with my little tunny in a bag in the trunk. I filleted it like one would any small tuna, and trimmed off the darkest bits of meat. That left rather a lot, about four meals worth if paired with another dish. 

There are quite a few ways to prepare little tunny. If you're already used to cleaning and cooking tuna, I recommend treating a little tunny the way you like to prepare a bluefin, yellowfin, or blackfin tuna. Expect it to have a little less shelf-life than those species, but the same cooking or sushi preparation techniques are applicable. It'll also allow you to compare the quality of the meat to the fish you're already familiar with.

I cook mine essentially the same way I cook myself a burger. I put a splash of olive oil in a pan, sprinkle some salt and pepper on the piece of meat, and cook it until it's just a bit pink in the middle. 

The texture and flavor is great. I loved it, and my partner really enjoyed it as well when she tried it. As long as you treat it right and eat it soon after it's caught, there's no reason not to eat an albie if you want to. And, frankly, lots and lots of dead ones are being thrown back in the water. Being an extremely fine-tuned, warm-blooded fish, little tunny have a very short shelf life when removed from the water. A lot of released ones die, that is very clear. I reckon the number could be as high as 45 to 50%. Grip n' grins are probably very close to a death sentence for these fish. 

I know I've thrown back tunny that didn't survive, and though I don't subscribe to the idea that a fish that died after release has been completely wasted (nothing organic goes to waste in the ocean), I don't think it's a good look to be killing large numbers of a species for the sake of of sport and believing you're doing right by the species. Little tunny are one of the most abundant predator fish species in the Atlantic Ocean, if they're going to be killed by even fairly careful catch and release methods, we may as well eat them. Since they aren't, in fact, horribly disgusting as many people make them out to be, I'll likely be keeping every one I decide to photograph from now on, knowing full well there are some fly caster that will dislike me for doing so. That's a lot better than such a magnificent animal being eaten by invasive green crabs. 

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.

Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, John, Elizabeth, Brandon, Christopher, Shawn, Mike, Sara, Leo, C, Franky, Geof, Luke, Streamer Swinger, and Noah for making Connecticut Fly Angler possible. If you want to support this blog, look for the Patreon link at the top of the right side-bar in web version.

Edited by Cheyenne Terrien

Late Season Jack Crevalles and Blue Runners in CT

 I particularly enjoy catching wandering pelagic and semi pelagic species in Connecticut waters. Each year a lot of fish that are ubiquitous in southern waters end up in Long Island Sound, and though they are often smaller than those I could catch elsewhere it is cool to encounter these species close to home. After all, they can often be caught in relative proximity to species we are much more used to seeing around here. Catching a crevalle jack and a striped bass within a half hour of each other is perfectly possible at some times of year in Connecticut and Rhode Island. November is one of those times, and perhaps the easiest time to make it happen at will. The warm water species get concentrated in, well, warm water as the environment around them cools off. Noah and I visited one of these concentrated warm water environments a little while ago. There were indeed loads and loads of jacks and blue runners present, and they were very willing and these species generally are. 

Though small in stature, these fish actually fight stupid hard. They're built for chasing down prey and swimming like hell away from predators. In the pelagic world, the predators really haul ass, so it pays to be really fast if you need to run away from those critters. That translates to a pretty sweet bend in the rod when you hook these guys. I was lucky to get the largest crevalle I've caught locally, and in heavy current that fish gave a phenomenal fight- even with a bit of its tail being missing.

The blue runners actually pull a bit harder, and we got some nice little football shaped runners that made our drags sing. 

I ended up keeping one of the blue runners; I pan fried it with olive oil and a little salt and pepper, the flavor and texture were fantastic. I'll certainly be eating more of these little buggers going forward. I haven't tried a crevalle yet, in part because I've seen videos of them being cleaned. It seems if they're of any size at all, they're loaded with parasites. Of course these are Florida-caught ones we're talking about, and I don't know if that would be true of the ones we get in CT. I should try and see at some point. 

The fishing was very fast paced. At times blitzes broke out and there were dozens of fish breaking around us. Mixed in were a few of the expected bluefish, but they were far outnumbered by the jacks and blue runners. It would have been particularly nice to encounter some other species mixed in, perhaps lesser amber jacks or banded rudderfish. Banded rudders are notable common in Connecticut some years but this wasn't one of them.

Eventually a flock of gulls to our east drew our attention, and we went off to get the sort of fish anglers actually expect to get in CT in November: the sort with stripey sides and an affinity for peanut bunker.

It's kind of cool when worlds collide. Of course, there was historically a strong Gulf Coast striped bass population. The extirpation of that population was driven by human action, no surprise. Were it not for that course of events it would be possible not only to catch jacks and stripers on the gulf coast but to catch a particularly large jack and good sized stripers in the same day. That certainly isn't a likely scenario any more. It's a cool oddity to be able to catch great numbers of both fish in Connecticut, but the jack schools Noah and I encountered were present as a result of humans altering the environment. Sure, jack crevalles and blue runners have naturally made it into CT waters for years, but they wouldn't linger into November were it not for artificially warm water. So, in essence, this is a novelty fishery. 

That doesn't stop it from being pretty damn fun though.

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.

Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, John, Elizabeth, Brandon, Christopher, Shawn, Mike, Sara, Leo, C, Franky, Geof, Luke, Streamer Swinger, and Noah for making Connecticut Fly Angler possible. If you want to support this blog, look for the Patreon link at the top of the right side-bar in web version.

Sunrise Hickory Blitz, Photo Essay

 

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.

Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, John, Elizabeth, Brandon, Christopher, Shawn, Mike, Sara, Leo, C, Franky, Geof, Luke, Streamer Swinger, and Noah for making Connecticut Fly Angler possible. If you want to support this blog, look for the Patreon link at the top of the right side-bar in web version.