Showing posts with label Mackerel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mackerel. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 27, 2022

Are Mackerel Returning to the Sound?

 One of the most noteworthy occurrences in local saltwater fishing this past season was the return of Atlantic mackerel to Long Island Sound and surrounding areas. Historically, mackerel have been present at various times and life stages, from tinker mackerel that were present in shore-accessible locations in the western sound to large "horse mackerel" roving the deeper water. There's been a distinct lack of mackerel activity in the Sound for many years. That is, until 2022. 

In the spring there was an awesome striper bite in The Race. One day my buddies Joe and Jerry invited me out to get on the action. Sand eels were fueling this activity, with the bass averaging toward the low end of the slot. Birds were diving and fish were hammering heavy jigs as well as flies fished on depth charge sinking lines. The surprise of the day, though, was an adult mackerel that took my big sand-eel Jiggy. The fly was large, even for a full grown mackerel. That fish, which I noted with some surprise, served as a quiet precursor to what would transpire later in the season.

In early August, Noah and I headed out to ply the warm summer water, again focusing on The Race and surrounding zones. Initially, we focused on bottom fish. We raked up a healthy number of big scup and black seabass before deciding to go look for big striped bass. We didn't find them. Instead, we encountered acres upon acres of tiny Atlantic mackerel. They were feeding at the surface on minuscule baitfish- like a blitz in miniature, only that blitz would cover many square miles when scaled up. There must have been a few hundred thousand of the little mackerel out there. I was able to catch quite a few on small flies, and though most would scoff at the idea of trying to catch these tiny fish they meant something to me. Each was a shimmering, flopping, colorful ray of hope in my hand. 


In the following weeks, these fish would spread, with reports as far west as the Norwalk Islands. My friend Ian Devlin sent me photos of tinker mackerel from his local waters, an area he hadn't seen the species for many years. They had once been a staple fishery, with angler using sabiki rigs to catch the small fish either for use as bait or to bring home and eat. Mackerel are very enjoyable table fare, with good flavor and fairly flaky texture. Of course there was more meat on the larger adults. Mark Sedotti told me about catching these bigger macker in his younger days, some weighing a few pounds.These were around earlier in the year and were present in deeper water, like the individual I'd caught earlier in the spring. Regardless of size, it seemed mackerel were back in the sound! They lingered at least until early December, with anglers going out into the western sound encountering them on sabikis intended to catch Atlantic herring. 

This lead to some interesting questions. For a long time many of us had thought that warming water played a factor in the Atlantic mackerel's choice to abandon the Sound. But when they arrived in CT in 2022, it was mid summer and water temperatures were quite high. Their presence coincided with that of banded rudderfish and Spanish mackerel, notoriously warm water species. If the mackerel were tolerating temperatures in 70's now, warm water couldn't really account for their absence in previous years. Charles Witek pointed out to me that overfishing was likely the cause for the absence of Atlantic mackerel in our waters in recent years- we are at the periphery of their range, and therefore more likely to lose them when overfishing is occurring. I think he's most certainly right, but why the abundance this year? And how could we keep them coming back.

First of all, I must say that I do not know the answer to the question with certainty, I merely have a hypothesis. In March of 2022, the Canadian Federel Fisheries Minister announced an emergency closure on the commercial and bait mackerel fishery in Atlantic Canada and Quebec. Obviously such a closure would have notable impacts on the Canadian mackerel abundance, but I feel there is a chance it could impact our numbers as well. Mackerel are a fast growing and rapidly breeding species, maturing at about 2 years, with individual females releasing as many as 450,000 eggs in a season. In such species, fisheries closures show fairly abrupt results. I don't think our fish came from Canada, necessarily, but a sudden increase can move biomass around, perhaps shifting the southern extent further out to compensate for the new abundance. If this closure ends and suddenly the local mackerel vanish in turn, that would be very suggestive. Only time will tell. 

Really, that is somewhat of a shot in the dark, but that I'm aware of there haven't been any other significant closures or policy changes to or affecting the mackerel fishery that could have an impact on our numbers. 

Secondarily, this may be a flash in the pan, driven by some natural course of events related to current, water temperature, or weather that doesn't happen every year. It may have nothing to do with an increased population at all. In that case, we can't expect them to return next year. I for one am extremely curious and excited to see if they do. Mackerel provide another forage fish for a variety of species, and history tells us they should be here. So to that second question, how can we keep them coming back? Well, we can advocate for more restrictive regulations on the commercial fishery. This is one of those cases where the commercial fishery take is leaps and bounds more impactful than the modest recreational take. I take part in that recreational take. In Rhode Island, a modest and seasonal hook and line mackerel fishery exists that I quite enjoy. Participants are often not English speaking, so it's hard to gather opinions, but this season I struck up conversation with folks when I could and was surprised by how much the sentiment leaned towards curbing harvest. In a fishery dominated by anglers hoping to fill the freezer, I was surprised by how many supported a curb on the commercial take. Some of these anglers were even commercial fisherman earlier in their lives. The general idea expressed was that there are far fewer mackerel than there used to be, that they aren't around for as long as they used to be, and that commercial quotas are too high. NOAA placed the Atlantic mackerel cap at 4,963 metric tons for the 2022 season.  



Unfortunately it may not be particularly easy to drive change with so little supporting voices. The recreational fishery, especially this far south, is tiny, and hardly and economic driver. Mackerel also have been gone from the broader area for long enough that most anglers don't really feel their absence, in fact many have no idea they were ever there in the first place. This is one of the largest hurdles in species restoration. Most people don't care about mackerel in Connecticut, Rhode Island, or New York. They don't even know what one looks like. So how do we pull enough voices together? It feels like an impossible task. That said, if you weren't aware of the history and predicament, now you are. If you want to share that knowledge I'm certainly not going to stop you. 

Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, John, Elizabeth, Brandon, Christopher, Shawn, Mike, Sara, Franky, Geof, Luke, Noah, Justin, Sean, Tom, Mark, Jake, Chris, and Oliver 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, January 10, 2022

Small Fish With Attitude

 As December wore on I ended up with progressively less time and fewer good weather windows to make it down to the shoreline for mackerel and herring. My last trip happened under fairly uncomfortable conditions in terms of temperature in wind. At the first spot I tried I watched a couple guys very occasionally catching fish on the next pier over while I struggled to focus with frozen fingers and missed the only take I got. I moved, then moved again and finally settled in though the going seemed slow. At least it was slow in terms of the mackerel and herring. The cunners though? They were fired up. Wrasse have such ridiculous attitudes. 


These buggers were taking a pretty sizable EP fiber baitfish imitation, and if my fly was near structure they were unavoidable. Even more ridiculously most of the ones I caught were far smaller than the ones shown here.


Entertaining those these cunners were I started to really hope something else would show up by the time I'd caught the 20th one. I'd have taken anything at all, and really hoped for a hake, tomcod, or herring as any of them would be new species. 

Eventually the seemingly absent mackerel made a showing and I picked one up. This ended up being my last one in 2021 as I never made it back down, but hopefully in the coming weeks I'll manage to get to the salt and see either if they're still in the area or if something else has filled their void... please let it be herring. 

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.

Wednesday, December 29, 2021

More Mackerel

 I was pretty hyped after my first successful southern Rhode Island mackerel mission, honestly. They might not be big or impressive but I gravitate heavily to underutilized fisheries that I don't hear much about. I was fired up to get back after it. It wasn't long before I got another chance. This time, the weather was much more pleasant and the tide started out pretty good for the first area I'd wanted to fish, the spot that had showed promise but not produced on my previous trip. This time, with a higher tide and calmer conditions, not only was I able to fish it more effectively but I could regularly see fish come up and break.

Now, here's the funny thing: if I cast vaguely near a breaking mackerel, and I mean 40-60 feet away but at least in the same direction, I hooked up almost immediately. When I landed my flies right near a break or boil though I got nothing. That seemed pretty odd. Maybe it was entirely incidental, I don't know. 

For a while, the action was pretty steady. The Garth got there and I caught two more before it seemed to end. There was loads of bait around still, just no more breaking mackerel. 




I caught two more before it really ended, and we decided to go to another spot. We headed over to where I'd hammered the mackerel last time, and I did get one there but it was clear that not much was going on. We then hammered cunners for a while. 


The rest of the day was strange. We saw a seal chasing mackerel around, we tried and failed to catch tautog, we caught more cunners. It was warm and calm and weird... just a surreal December day, from start to finish. Catching mackerel in the winter in Southern New England will remain surreal to me for a while, I think.

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.

Monday, December 13, 2021

December Hardtails in Southern New England

 Now you might be thinking I'm nuts based on that title, but it's true. Long after the last little tunny has left and the hopes and prayers for those mythical late season bonito have come up empty, a well kept, small scale hardtail bite manifests as winter begins. Old timers may talk about mackerel fishing in Long Island sound in the good old days, and though there is nothing like that apparently was- nor much of the wild late season fishing that could be had back then -there are still some Atlantic mackerel to be caught. Spurred on by whispers and a long held desire to figure out this very infrequently discussed bite, I went out mostly blind with a 5wt and small flashy streamers. 

I've caught Atlantic mackerel many times in Maine, where they are present for most of the warm season in huge numbers. I'd also seen them in Massachusetts, but more as a baitfish than a target. I'd never seen one South of the Cape. Though these fish are pretty small compared to bonito or tunny, I welcomed the idea of catching a scombrid of any kind in a month when saltwater fishing is getting less and less diverse by the day. December signals the end of the fall abundance and species diversity as the water cools rapidly. But mackerel like this cold water, and that's exactly when they come around. Most of the time they are caught incidentally by folks fishing for herring. I couldn't be sure they were very targetable, but I liked the idea and was willing to risk skunking. 

On my first attempt, skunking was exactly what I did. I ruled out some tides and times though, at least for one spot that looked like it had potential, and in one location I did watch people catch some herring and mackerel. The very next day I came back much earlier. The first spot was basically a dud, though I had a fish swirl on my fly at the end of one retrieve and on other brief hookup. I remained hopeful on the short drive to stop number two. There, I found exactly what I was looking for.


I must say I was almost surprised to catch one at all, even though I'd combed through what little information was available and poured over the maps for days prior. It felt like a wild goose chase, but there I was holding the goose. Many more came over the next few hours, and I felt pretty good about myself, especially since I was far from the only one fishing that spot and I was doing much better than anyone else there at the time. It does feel good, being the only one in a lineup with a fly rod and putting more meat in the bucket than anyone else. 

And yes, I was putting meat in the bucket. Mackerel are wonderful table fare and plenty abundant, so I wanted to take advantage of this opportunity to try a new fish. When I was catching them sometimes two at a time, it was quite a good opportunity indeed. 



Small though Atlantic mackerel may be, they still have that hardtail spirit. They pull really well, doing nice little runs and circling once brought in close just like their larger cousins. They don't have the weight to put on a big screaming run, but they makeup for that with an unwillingness to quit. They're excellent light tackle fodder. 

I ended up with a pretty nice pile of them that day. When I got home and started processing them I found that the only baitfish they had in their stomach was juvenile menhaden. I'd expected small sand eels or even silversides, but there are indeed lots of peanuts still lingering around southern New England. The odds of encountering stripers chowing on them are still pretty good as I write this on December 12th. IF you know where to look...



I've been making regular trips for mackerel over the first weeks of December and will be continuing to as winter rolls along. It's become a short-term obsession. They're fun little fish, and I enjoy how obscure this bite is. Oh, and they were absolutely delicious. 

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.

Thursday, September 30, 2021

Multispecies Fishing in an Old Maine Harbor

Maine's old harbors can hold an abundance of fish, though in my experience they at time hide themselves very well. Despite absurdly clear water, bergalls, pollock, sculpins and mackerel often hide themselves quite well. Sometimes it takes dropping down a bait, lure, or fly to determine if there are in fact fish present. Then the shapes materialize from them depths and the excitement begins... sometimes. Noah and I struggled the first time we went to Maine. Finding fish turned out more trick than we'd anticipated. A few trips down the line though I've learned a bit and have started to get a bit better at consistently finding something to catch in Maine harbors.

A couple weeks ago I went to Maine with my field herping friend, Bruce, to look for snakes. We found plenty, enough so that by the end of the last day we were satisfied enough to spend hour last hour or so at the ferry dock seeing what swam these water in mid September. We'd already seen some mackerel surface feeds earlier that morning, and there were some on the surface just opposite the dock. What was present at the dock in abundance was large bergalls. It didn't take me long to catch a few of these. 



These were moody bergalls though, and after a little while they became much more shy to the fly. Not being a snob has its perk and I had no qualms chunking up the next bergall I caught and using it as both chum and bait. This, unsurprisingly, resulted in a feeding frenzy that not only got the bergalls fired up but drew in some pollock and mackerel too. Soon I had what one might call a Maine Harbor slam, a few of each species on both bait and fly. I was using the 1wt, of course, and the fights were tremendous. It was a great way to round out a successful trip. 






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.

Friday, September 25, 2020

Scomber Colias From the Rocks

 Atlantic chub mackerel have been in Long Island and Block Island Sound each summer for a few years, but I'd yet to target them from shore until this August. Really I wasn't looking for them when I first ended up on the bite, I was looking for bonito. They had and still have yet to show in any notable amount in Connecticut waters. But on that first rainy morning I was looking for bonito, I ended up catching a huge chub mackerel, bigger than any I'd ever seen in photos. Though it gave me pause, it wasn't enough to make me pull my camera out in the rain... which I now regret. It was a seriously large chub mackerel and I may never see one like that again. 

The next evening though I wondered if I might find some feeding at the same spot, on a similar tide, but with the sun setting. It turned out I could. This time I was using my 5wt rod with the specific intent of catching Scomber colias. I'd tied some very small, simple flies on fine wire hooks to try to avoid issues with missing or hooking and loosing chub mackerel that had become obvious over the last three years of fishing for them from boats. One was a simple small version of a Gartside Soft Hackle Streamer, and the fish both showed a strong preference for this fly and stayed pinned without fail. (I thought this would be solution, but subsequent tests proved less successful.)



With the skies ablaze at sunset and the tide dropping, I caught chub mackerel from "my rock" until I was content, which was conveniently about when they wandered out of range. A slow, steady double had retrieve was periodically halted by abrupt and violent takes, then jarring fights that tested the limits of my five weight rod. I'd used a five weight for these fish from the boat and my experience was that it was not much different than an 8wt. Not so from the rocks. This was exciting fishing.
 
 There was once a time when catching a similar species from the rocks and beaches of southern New England wouldn't have been unusual. Atlantic mackerel used to make showing here. They still do sometimes in Rhode Island, on Long Island, and even on occasion in New Jersey, but really if I want to catch them from the rocks I have to go to Maine. That's the place. But now that these chub mackerel have made themselves at home in Long Island Sound, there's a great opportunity to catch a beautiful small scombrid in the surf at home. Of course, chub mackerel are actually bigger than Atlantic mackerel. I'm still not quite used to them, though they've been around for more than half of my time consistently fishing these waters. They still make me giggle and smile, as just about any pretty, hard fighting little fish does. Getting my first few from the rocks made me smile all the wider.


 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, and Franky for supporting this blog on Patreon.

Wednesday, August 21, 2019

The Chub Mackerel Invasion

Atlantic chub mackerel, Scomber colias, were once essentially absent from our little corner of the Atlantic. The species started to show up in offshore waters in the late 2000's and were being substantially commercially harvested by 2013 and had become an important baitfish for large pelagic fish, as according to a fissues article by Angelo Peluso in 2017. That year, 2017, schools of chub mackerel showed up at Watch Hill, and I caught my first of the species with Mark Philippe in August of that year (flyfishingcts.blogspot.com).


In 2018, chub mackerel were definitely around in shore and near shore again, though I didn't see them. They seemed a little more spread out. Then came 2019....
This year, I've seen chub mackerel all the way from Point Judith to Niantic and friends have seen them almost to the mouth of the Connecticut River. There are tons of them, they are all over, and they are absolutely chewing through small bait. The froth feeds performed by these fish are both audible and visible from a long way off, sounding like a waterfall or a very isolated heavy downpour. If not in a concentration of bait in a single spot, they move up and down slicks so rapidly they are hard to catch up to even in a boat at times. And they are indeed fairly sporting on light tackle. Over the last few weeks, Noah and I have chased them around in kayaks, and I've targeted them on a number of friends' boats. I fished for them with small flies tied on size 3-6 hooks, and on both a 5wt and a 10wt. Interestingly, what rod I was using made next to no difference in the quality of the fight. This is something my friend Captain Ian Devlin has noticed as well. Regardless, they have been abundant and it's fun to pull on a few, though watching them feed is more than enough for me to be happy!





They do bleed a lot.






On there own the chub mackerel a pretty cool, but this year they've become so abundant that they may be turning into viable forage for sharks, bluefish, and potentially striped bass. While drifting in an area where tons of chub mackerel were feeding, Patrick Barone was jigging a metal while I continued to fish the kind of small flies the chub mackerel were eating. All of a sudden, Patrick stuck a decent sized bass. When he got it up, it was being followed by a much bigger fish. I quickly tied on a big Game Changer, hoping the follower would stay around and give me a shot at it. Unfortunately that didn't happen. But it was pretty clear that these fish were there because the mackerel were, either to eat the mackerel themselves, eat whatever the mackerel may have been leaving behind, or possibly even eating the scraps dropped by bluefish that may have been eating the mackerel. But where we were, there were really limited reasons for there to be sizable bass in that particular spot at that time of year. They must have been drawn to the chub mackerel. I'm a bit skeptical that large stripers would chase down these fish too often, they aren't exactly like adult bunker or Atlantic mackerel, much harder to pin in an ambush spot. So these won't be a viable replacement for menhaden, not for striped bass forage. But they may well become a viable and important inshore baitfish in the future. Time will tell, and time will tell if they need to be regulated outside of the commercial sector. Bunker are, so these certainly should be, being both useful bait and a good food fish. Be vigilant in the future for opportunities for advocacy in that department, I'll be paying attention. And obviously the Fissues team is paying attention to chub mackerel. This is a rare circumstance of a new native fish abruptly showing up, it's a really fascinating thing to see.

photo courtesy Ian Scott Devlin


photo courtesy Ian Scott Devlin
I'm not sure what I was looking at.

Until next time.
Fish for the love of fish.
Fish for the love of places fish live.
Fish for you.



 If you enjoy what I'm doing here, please share and comment. It is increasingly difficult to maintain this blog under dwindling readership. What best keeps me going so is knowing that I am engaging people and getting them interested in different aspects of fly fishing, the natural world, and art. Follow, like on Facebook, share wherever, comment wherever. Also, consider supporting me on Patreon (link at the top of the bar to the right of your screen, on web version). Every little bit is appreciated! Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, john, Elizabeth, and Christopher, for supporting this blog.

Thursday, July 25, 2019

Acadia Pollock on the Fly From Shore

As Noah and I came around a corner and caught our first glimpse of Mt. Desert Island, my brain told me I couldn't possibly be looking at an island. That was an easy leap to make, we couldn't see the ocean yet. But we could see the hills. Hills that big, covered in mixed forest, with big rocks painted in colorful lichens, small mountain brook trout streams, and massive talus slopes, well... to my less than well traveled mind, those hills didn't belong right next to the Atlantic Ocean. But there there it all was.







Acadia is one of, if not the most grand place I have ever been. Those old hills still stand proud after ages of tectonic activity, glaciation, and gradual weather, even as the monstrous ocean mercilessly pounds at their feet. In the place where the island and the sea battle each other nearly constantly, at the foot of the cliffs, Atlantic pollock and mackerel swim.

Noah and I had spent time seeking pollock in Cape Cod, Gloucester, and Maine already without luck. We hadn't been after adult pollock because they were pretty much out of our range of capabilities on foot and on kayaks most of the time. The surf fishing for pollock in Montauk, Rhode Island, the Cape, and even in Maine just isn't what it once was. Giant pollock from shore is a thing of the past. Human greed is to blame. But there are still pollock to be caught in the surf. Harbor pollock are basically their species' equivalent of snapper blues. Small, abundant, and aggressive, they provide some fun surf fishing wherever the structure is right and the water cold enough. That's what Noah and I were after. And this time, we found them.

Lifelist fish #134, Atlantic pollock, Pollachius virens. Rank: species
It turned out that a big part of the deal was going further north to colder water. Though there are still pollock inshore in the summer in a lot of parts of Massachusetts and Maine (NH doesn't have enough shoreline to count. NH is just Maine extra. You'd think it would be easier to just include New Hampshire than go on this little rant. That is true. And yet, here we are.) the further you go, the colder the water, the rockier the shoreline, the more there are around in July. And Acadia was just loaded. Within our first hour in the park we'd both caught our lifer pollock.



Oh, and it wasn't just pollock. Atlantic mackerel also joined the party. I was pretty pleased to get some of them, seeing as I haven't caught all that many mackerel. Actually, by the time we left the Maine shoreline for the north woods, I'd tallied up a larger lifetime number of pollock than mackerel, including both Atlantic and Atlantic chub mackerel.



Scomber scombrus

The first evening was pretty good. I caught a bunch of pollock and a few mackerel on a simple white jighead streamer. Noah caught a ton of mackerel and a few pollock on a sabiki rig. The next morning was all pollock. We got thing a bit more down to a science, and frankly it was all too obvious.






It seemed that wherever there was both submerged ledge and white water there were pollock, and they were all too willing to take a white streamer fished on floating line with the 5wt. That gear for those fish was just perfect. It was a blast.





Aside from just being fun, these were beautiful little fish. Their copper and bronze colored flanks really shone in a way that photography couldn't quite capture. The subtle blue of their lateral line was unexpected, to me at least. Beyond that, they were the easiest fish to handle. No spines, no big teeth, no sharp gill plate. Nothing to cut, puncture or abrade you at all. Pollock taste really good too. Seriously, what's not to love. I left Acadia with a few things and one of them was a whole new appreciation for this species.






 Our time on Mt. Desert Island was short, but I know I have to go back there. It is an undeniably beautiful place, and Noah and I just barely scratched the surface of it. But we were both getting a bit sick of the driving and tourists there. It was time to go north; about as far north as we could go without crossing into Canada.
Until next time.
Fish for the love of fish.
Fish for the love of places fish live.
Fish for you.

 If you enjoy what I'm doing here, please share and comment. It is increasingly difficult to maintain this blog under dwindling readership. What best keeps me going so is knowing that I am engaging people and getting them interested in different aspects of fly fishing, the natural world, and art. Follow, like on Facebook, share wherever, comment wherever. Also, consider supporting me on Patreon (link at the top of the bar to the right of your screen, on web version). Every little bit is appreciated! Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, john, and Christopher, for supporting this blog.