Morning Blitz

 Fall 2023 was a struggle in most of my normal striped bass haunts, and I stubbornly stuck to my guns in those places working under the incorrect assessment that if I kept going, eventually the fish had to show up. Meanwhile, friends were having much better fishing just a short bit further away from home. Not only were the encountering good stripers but big bluefish as well. I stuck to my guns on my home turf for a while before finally seeing reason and venturing out further. It was desperately necessary at that point, as I the season looked to be about to wind down.

Fall is when I basically live out of my car. Really, that could happen any time of year. But it's definitely more likely from September through November. The same clothes may not come off for days on end, the interior of the vehicle starts to smell dank and musty, and I consistently look both manic and tired. Loved ones say "you should get some rest", I say "when I'm dead". Pushing even just a little further from home and learning a relatively new to me area demands even more than the usual effort, and when a bite is in progress that means methodically fishing different structure in the new area, drawing knowledge of how similar spots in areas I already know fish at different tides, winds, and times of day. Some may require a significant number of visits at different times and tides to really dial in. I look or bait and make educated guesses as to where it may go next if it is liable to leave- always a factor in the fall -and watch for concentrations of fish eating birds or even seals. This often mean spending the majority of a week in the same general area, catching naps here and there and eating when I can and what I can between tides. But I always feel the pressure of the approaching cold season and the inevitable departure of the fish. 

On the first day of my exploratory I found a spot in daylight with very promising structure and bait activity. I made careful note of the tide level and current speed at the time of that visit and came back later that night on a different tide. There were fish feeding heavily and some very large ones in the mix. The next night, same thing but on the opposite tide. This was an ideal setup, and a spot I'd throw into the rotation for a while. Unfortunately it ended up serving up absurdly fickle fish. Though there was near constant and hellacious surface action I struggled to get bit. I tricked just a couple into taking very large Hollow Fleyes, but nothing else seemed to draw any attention and that just barely worked as it was. I fell asleep in my waders in a park and ride that night a bit dejected and frustrated but with intrigue as to the following morning. I hoped that bait might dump out into the adjacent bay and start a blitz.

The next morning, a huge blitz was in progress in a spot I couldn't get to as I drove to where the fish had been the night before. I pulled off for a bit to watch the birds dipping down to catch juvenile menhaden as stripers and blues churned the water underneath them. It was a fun show for a bit, but I wanted to feel a tight line. Things were quiet over by the mouth of the creek that had been loaded with bass the previous few nights. There were a bunch of cormorants hanging out up the beach though, and they seemed expectant. I decided to take their lead. I made some blind casts while I waited and picked up a few errant schoolies. 

It was more than an hour without much change before some of the cormorants began to take off confidently, fly across the bay, then land and swim around a point that was obscuring another small cove. Soon the whole flock- perhaps more than a hundred birds -were following their lead. I did the same. Rounding the corner, diving gulls and a few swirls marked the school. Eagerly I hopped out, dropping a camera in my waders pocket and grabbing the rod. I doubted tis would last very long and didn't expect I'd need to perform any fly changes. Twenty minutes, a dozen fish up to about 20 pounds, and a bit of sitting and basking in the chaos later the action departed and so did I. 

Short though that may have been, and utterly underwhelming compared to the blitzes the previous fall, that was the peak of my fall daytime fishing for bass. Had I adapted earlier and looked for greener grass further afield, it may have looked quite a bit different. That's how the game works sometimes though. You can get rewarded handsomely for sticking to your guns or you could miss out on the bite happening where you aren't.  

Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, John, Elizabeth, Brandon, Christopher, Shawn, Mike, Sara, Franky, Geof, Luke, Noah, Justin, Sean, Tom, Mark, Jake, Chris, Oliver, oddity on Display, Sammy, and Cris & Jennifer 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. 

Moments on The Fly- Log Common

 On a winding Ohio creek shaded by lush trees just beginning to get touches of fall color, I found a school of perhaps 20 carp relating to a tree that had fallen in the river. I'd walked quite a lot of this creek already, finding some redhorse here an there, catching striped shiners and smallmouth bass. This was the only place I'd see carp, and there were a lot of them there. This wasn't an atypical thing in my experience- I fairly regularly encounter isolated schools of carp in a pool or perhaps two consecutive pools on a small river in low flows with none whatsoever to be seen above or below. Sometimes these schools have just temporarily taken up shop in a spot and will only be seen there for a season, perhaps having made there way there during high water conditions. Sometimes these locations prove to consistently hold fish at all times of year. Which of the two cases this was is not known to me, as it remains the only time I'd ever fished this river. I do hope to return of course.

When I spotted the carp it was because I disturbed them a little bit. Two of the fish noticed my movements and left the log. Their retreat to deeper water wasn't especially hastily and it didn't seem to disturb the other carp there much though they did begin to move around a bit. The moment I'd noticed these fish I stopped in my tracks, very literally. Once the pair that left were out of sight I slowly adjusted from my mid-stride position to a more comfortable stance and just waited and watched as the carp that had decided to shifted and adjusted into new positions as well, taking advantage of the new room. Even if some fish are spooked or disturb in a school, an immediate shift to being a still and quiet as possible can keep the ones that weren't from taking notice. Common carp are a particularly aware and weary species and it won't always work on them. This time everything went according to plan. The fish went about their business as though I wasn't there and in time I felt comfortable enough with their behavior to try to present a fly to them. The choice of target wasn't difficult when one fish sidled out of the shadow of the log and worked its way toward me parallel to it, shopping the river bottom for morsals. It wasn't the biggest fish there but none were that big nor were there any mirrors, ghosts or any other interesting morphs I might rather catch. I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth so I fed that little fish a green weenie. I'll often take a smaller feeding target over a non-feeding but bigger one so long as neither is actually that big, and none of these fish looked over 10 pounds to me. That active little common ate the weenie in textbook fashion and I lifted the rod to set the hook. Within the next few seconds there wasn't a carp in the lot that was left undisturbed. 

Though it wasn't an especially big fish, the circumstances made is a standout catch from that trip. Carp will always be a favorite of mine, big or small, and small midwestern creeks provide a backdrop to the pursuit of this species that I'm not as familiar with. Though I was looking for new species out there, the novelty of catching an old stand-by in a different setting withstood. 

Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, John, Elizabeth, Brandon, Christopher, Shawn, Mike, Sara, Franky, Geof, Luke, Noah, Justin, Sean, Tom, Mark, Jake, Chris, Oliver, oddity on Display, Sammy, and Cris & Jennifer 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.