Monday, March 28, 2022

A Quick Amendment 7 Plee

 Honestly, I have had no time. That's not a good excuse, obviously, but I'm definitely spread a bit thin at the moment. Amendment 7 to the Striped Bass Management Plan- you've heard about it, hopefully. It's been bouncing around for months. Most of the state hearings have already happened. It's a complex bear of a document, far more obnoxious than what we were dealing with a year ago or so with striper management. I am not hear to explain it to you. I'll let the people that know more (and better) than I do that. Here are the guys I rely on: 

ASGA

One Angler's Voyage

Please go over these, if you haven't already, and write your letter to ASMFC. We can't allow then to keep fussing around, moving slowly, and generally just being lazy and pointless. Our bass fishery needs better. All of the fisheries they manage need better. 

Thank you. 


Tuesday, March 22, 2022

Spring Guide Season Update

 Everything is happening all at once at this time of year, really. I've been out here and there after whatever is most appealing to me that day. Today I was out salmon fishing, which has the biggest time limit as, at least in the Shetucket, the salmon seem to get weird right when the stocked trout go in. I had four grabs, one of which resulted in a break-off (don't let those wind knots go unchecked!). All took light colored flies: one a white bugger, the other three a white and black Sunray Shadow.  There's a big rain event coming so it'll likely be just this week and then done. If we're lucky and they hold off the trout stocking, maybe when it drops back down I'll open up a few days to clients. 

Suckers are on the move, and I've been targeting them when time avails. They're exceptionally easy at this time of year, very difficult in others. If you're interested in learning to target these tricky, hard fighting, and often large native fish, perhaps even looking to get a trophy fish pin or even beat a length record, the next three weeks are prime. Another often overlooked native is also exceptionally active right now. This is perhaps the best time of year to target very large chain pickerel, and I'll take clients for them as well. These are short windows for the big, big fish, so if you're looking for one don't wait.


Of course the truck trout are being dumped around the state now, much to my... eh, I'll leave the complaining for another day. You all know how I feel about hatchery trout as a fisheries management strategy and ecological problem anyway (if you don't you certainly will eventually). But they're here so we may as well stick some fur and feathers in their faces. The mouse bite is happening. Some years it starts in February. I'm talking about the daylight mouse bite, not the night bite... but that doesn't mean night fishing isn't going now too. It is, but it's focused on streamers and wet flies. However you're interested in targeting trout, be it at night, in daylight, on dries, on nymphs, on streamers, on mice, on wets... you name it, I'll do my best to put you on them. If I don't feel I'm the guy for what you're looking for I'm sure I know someone that is. 



On that note... Noah is now Captain Noah. He'll be starting to run trips on his new skiff very soon. If slamming perch, crappie, bass, carp, or bowfin on light spinning tackle or cane poles is more your thing, I can put you in touch with him. He and I were out last week after big panfish. He lost a monster yellow perch right at the dock, which was a bummer. Though we got some nice fish we didn't land any of the real monsters, but the numbers were certainly there. 


That leaves the two things that I guide for often that aren't really going that crazy yet: smallmouth bass and carp. We're on the cusp. It will get crazy, and it'll get crazy soon. I've already got guys waiting for smallmouth trips, so don't wait too long. I've gotten most of my really large smallmouth in April and May in recent years. With water temperatures approaching 50 in a lot of places already this promises to be an early season. Carp are moving shallow too, and like smallmouth early is better for the bigs.

Like I said, it all happens at once this time of year. Don't let the season pass you by!

Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, John, Elizabeth, Brandon, Christopher, Shawn, Mike, Sara, Leo, C, Franky, Geof, Luke, Streamer Swinger, Noah, Justin, Sean, Tom, and Mark 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.


Thursday, March 17, 2022

Using A Thermometer to Catch More Fish

 Do you carry a thermometer when you're fishing? I do. I thought it was silly, back when I was younger and thought the excessive amount of gear fly anglers like to carry was just absurd. And, well, it is. There's plenty of superfluous or completely unnecessary gear being purchased- a thermometer, however, is not one of those things. A small thermometer is a key piece of equipment to help an angler catch more fish. Buy one. Seriously.

 More important than just carrying one and sticking it in the water is really properly using it. 

Not every part of the water is the same temperature, and to get a good understanding of what is going on an angler needs to think about where they're taking a temperature. The slack, shallow pool off the main current of a river will invariably be warmer than the riffle just 20 feet away, unless there's a spring seep there. The surface of a pond will be warmer in the spring and early summer than the bottom, but may in fact be notably colder after the first frost in the fall. To get a really thorough idea what's going on, I take a couple of different readings at different depths and in different locations. If there's a striking difference in temperature between one spot on a pond and another, it is certainly going to impact the behavior of the fish.  

Equally important is keeping record of the temperatures you take. Unless you have an extraordinary memory, write it down. Keep logs. Make not of the weather when you took the data, what the weather was in the prior days, and what time it was. And of course log how the fishing was. Water temperature and fishing quality are very much correlated, and if you've got a substantial back-log of reports and associated water temperatures, you'll be all the more prepared to repeat successes and rule out bad conditions as well. The unfortunate reality is that it will take time to get a solid, predictive pattern. I've been logging consistently for the better part of 4 years and still don't always hit the nail on the head. I've got a much better idea of how things work though. I know what temperature gets carp up on certain mud flats, and I know what temperature gets the walleye moving into the areas I target them early in the season. I also know what temperatures really kill the action in different places for different species. This means I can catch fish much more consistently, or at least waste less time fishing unproductive water and times. 

Monitoring water temperature has been key for catching trophy black crappie.

Aside from helping you catch more fish a thermometer can tell you when you should be fishing as well. After all, none of us want our released fish to keel over and die shortly after we've caught them, right? Carrying a thermometer when trout fishing in the summer is imperative. Be sure that you aren't fishing water that exceeds 67 degrees Fahrenheit. If you find a cold pocket, be mindful that trout use small spring seeps and the mouths of tributaries as thermal refuges, and that even though localized temperatures might be cold enough, the trout using these areas are under significant stress and should not be targeted. 

Thinking back, it's funny how reluctant I was to both start logging and start carrying a thermometer. It upped my game hugely, really taking things to another level. Of course, there's many things we all did as beginners that we can laugh at now. But if you aren't already, I certainly recommend getting a cheap little thermometer to carry with you on each and every fishing trip.

Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, John, Elizabeth, Brandon, Christopher, Shawn, Mike, Sara, Leo, C, Franky, Geof, Luke, Streamer Swinger, Noah, Justin, Sean, Tom, and Mark 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.

Thursday, March 10, 2022

The Herpetofaunal Awakening

 I can fish pretty much all winter. I don't always, because sometimes it legitimately hurts to be outside. When merely exposing your skin to air results in significant pain that's probably a bad sign. But generally, I like winter fishing. Aside from the popular holdover striper places, popular ice fishing spots, and the Farmington River I generally find myself along out there on the water in the winter, and I like that a lot. Am I patiently waiting for spring to bring much more aggressive fish and more variety? Absolutely. But my love of spring has to do with so much more than just fish. The return of the migrating birds and others passing through on their way north, the budding then blooming of native plants, the insects... I love it all. But the thing I really wait all winter for with baited breath, watching forecasts intently for any sign of hope, is the re-awakening of herpetofauna: reptiles and amphibians.

 It happens before the first day of spring on the calendar most years, at least recently. In fact, 2022 is the first year I've seen a frog in CT on the very first day of the year. But February has been a regular amphibian month for me, and March brings the first snakes. I made a quick stop while bouncing between brown trout streams a few weeks ago on a sunny 60 degree February day and saw the first Eastern ribbon snake of the year, though it slipped into its hole before I could get a photo off. A few rainy nights produced some beautiful wood frogs and the odd spring peeper as February transitioned into March. Visits to some den sites produced signs that some snakes had been out, but no sightings of the animals themselves. Then, on March 7th, I payed a visit to a black racer den. The den is in a steep road grad, composed of a mix of soil rock fill, most of which came from blasted out roadcuts not far away. The slope gets good exposure and has some nice emergent vegetation. Though racers are the predominant species, I've also found Eastern rat snakes and garters as well. 

I worked my way down the slope slowly, carefully examining the leaf litter for patterns I've trained my brain to recognize. Snakes aren't always out in the open and easily spotted. They frequently coil under puffed up fallen leaves or grass, letting the sun warm parts of their body while much remaining very cryptic. Even an adult black racer can be very hard to spot at times, and it's imperative that I spot the snake before I'm right next to it if I want to get the best possible photos. This time though it wasn't like that. The one snake that had emerged, a thick adult racer, was right out in the open adjacent to the area they emerge from. It was an impressive animal in perhaps it's least impressive state. His movements were slow and labored, as his body temperature was very likely still extremely cold. He was also completely covered in dust, a common trait of freshly emerged snakes. 



It was easy enough for me to see through the dust and grime to the spectacular animal underneath. I've got an affinity for racers. Perhaps it's the difficulty of photographing a big, pristine adult in it's best shape... they don't let you, most of the time. Racers are intense. They look at you, calculating, thinking, trying to judge your next move, and if they don't like it they can place an exceptionally accurate strike. They most painful snakebites I've ever taken have been from racers, and if you don't yield they'll bite over and over. Getting really close to a snake like that, ideally without handling it, is very challenging. It takes time, patience, and a keen awareness of the animal and it's body language. If I can photograph racers without getting tagged, I'm all the more prepared for the interactions with copperheads and timber rattlesnakes that I love so much. A racer beats the paints off either of CT's pit vipers when it comes to speed, erratic behavior, and cunning. They'll f*** you up, if you let um.

With the first photographed snake of 2022 under my belt, I was beginning to feel a lot better about life. I'm not sure anything makes me feel like seeing a good reptile or amphibian does. It's pure joy, a different joy than I get from catching a great fish. Similar, but just not quite the same. I've long felt that the good feeling I get from catching a fish is derived from the biological necessity to obtain nutrients. Though I deprive myself of the actual caloric intake by releasing so many of the fish I catch, I'm still taking advantage of the positive signals catching prey results in. It's not like that with finding a snake, it's something else. Something new, I think. See, every species gets positive reinforcement from obtaining food, but in most cases animals get negative reinforcement from encountering snakes. There was a time when getting bit by a venomous pretty much meant death for us. So we jump, we startle, and some of us remain perpetually terrified- but not everyone. Some people are just innately captivated by these weird creatures. I am certainly one of those folks, forever chasing the joy I get from seeing that patch of scales in the leaf litter.

Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, John, Elizabeth, Brandon, Christopher, Shawn, Mike, Sara, Leo, C, Franky, Geof, Luke, Streamer Swinger, Noah, Justin, Sean, and Mark 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.

Monday, March 7, 2022

Big White Perch & The Lifer Magic Phenomena

 When Noah and I first started fishing together, one of the first fish we began researching and attempting to find were big migratory white perch. The lake we both grew up fishing had an introduced and stunted white perch population, so I think the whole appeal was in catching the much larger native version of a species we'd been catching for years. We'd heard that they fought pretty hard and could exceed 15 inches in length. Noah actually caught some one day, in summer of 2016, while striper fishing. As soon as we specifically targeted them though, we suddenly couldn't find them to save our lives. We were plagued by bad conditions and often just horrible luck. Sometimes were were even told there were plenty right where we were fishing, but we always failed to catch any. 

White perch follow an anadromous lifestyle in their native range along the CT coastline. Some fish in the larger tidal systems, like the Connecticut River may, never actually enter salt or brackish water at all, but along the coast are scattered populations that have a significant saltwater based component to their lifestyle. I should note that white perch are not really a perch, though they're described as a perch-like fish. They belong to the genus Morone and family moronidae, the temperate basses. They are far more closely related to white bass and striped bass than they are any perch. They do often fill a similar niche and even school with yellow perch when the two are present in the same habitat, and as far as body and fin structure they aren't completely dissimilar, so the naming can be forgiven in my opinion. 

Throughout much of the year, many white perch are messing around in tidal salt and brackish water, while some of their brethren are up in freshwater. They aren't a perfectly migratory anadromous fish like herring or shad, and unlike striped bass, most of which enter the ocean and perform some manor of significant migration, it seems a fair percentage of white perch are content to knock around in fully fresh water for most of their lives. Others only seem to wander into freshwater to spawn, and these guys and gals are the biggest of the big. These are the white perch that might well attain 16 inches and weight several pounds. These were the white perch Noah and I wanted to catch, and we couldn't seem to. 

This brings up a somewhat interesting phenomena we've noticed as life listers. Since we dedicate such a significant amount of time to targeting completely new species, we're routinely aware of this odd and frequent occurrence. It often takes an exceptionally long time to catch the first of a species, sometimes even unnecessarily. Then, once that first one has been caught, we find it either easy, or just easier to catch that species, whether we're actually targeting them or not. At first glance you might think we learned some key piece of information in the process of catching the first one that resulted in the rapid increase in success, but that isn't it. And though Noah and I had already caught probably thousands of white perch, our process of catching salty ones exemplifies this perfectly. We didn't approach it without prior knowledge. We knew spots, whether we were told them or dug them up through thorough research, or even just happened to be fishing them and saw someone else catching big white perch there. And it isn't like white perch are a remotely technical fish. Moreover, we had already caught the species, we just hadn't successfully targeted the populations with a saltwater component to their life history. 

Then Noah caught one this past fall. I was with him when that happened, maybe you read the post. Then the funny thing happened. He proceeded to start catching white perch consistently out of the very places we'd been trying for years to find them at. Lifer magic, and this wasn't even a real lifer. I hoped at that point that my time was next, that after years of trying I'd finally have my trophy native white perch. I began searching for them in Rhode Island, in places I knew were known to produce. No luck. Then, while back closer to home in an old haunt targeting holdover stripers with Noah and Garth, it finally happened. I proceeded to catch a few more after that. The seal is broken now, so this should suddenly become much much easier. 




Lifer magic is certainly not an isolated phenomena. Fisherman tend to be a little superstitious, sometimes very superstitious. Most of the time, I'm not. Save for this one case.

And maybe a few others.

Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, John, Elizabeth, Brandon, Christopher, Shawn, Mike, Sara, Leo, C, Franky, Geof, Luke, Streamer Swinger, Noah, Justin, Sean, and Mark 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.