The Year the Sand Eels Returned

Sand lances or sand eels, were a staple baitfish in Long Island Sound for many years. By the time I was regularly fishing for striped bass, they were rare enough that it took three years before I encountered bass feeding on them and it wasn't until this year that I actually had to fish imitations of them to deceive fish very specifically keyed on sand eels. This year has been an odd one in Long Island Sound, not like any other year I've fished, and it seemed for a while to be the year the sand eels returned.

One grey morning in late June I stepped onto the sand of one of my favorite flats and looked out over The Sound, unable to see the horizon as the glass calm water blended with the foggy grey sky. When a handful of sand eels spooked out of the bottom of a shallow pool, I knew this would be a good morning. I'd never seen as much as a single one here in the past.

As I walked further still, I saw something else peeking its head out of the sand, a fish of catchable size, and clearly a species I'd never caught. I had a bonefish fly on, and though it wasn't really small enough I had nothing better. I dropped it in front of the fish and it left the sand and ate aggressively. It was much too large to fit in the mystery fish's mouth, but I still managed to hook it and bring it to hand... not that there was much fight on the 10wt.

It would be a little while before I identified this fish. Leo Sheng identified it, actually.

Life List Fish #165, Striped cusk-eel. Ophidion marginatum. Rank: species.

 I hadn't even gotten my ankles wet and I'd seen some sand eels and caught a new species. When I did get out into the water it was quickly apparent that there were large schools of sand eels and that both striped bass and sea robbins were feeding on them. I tied on a simple, slim, Surf Candy style fly and waited to see a wake, pop, boil, or tail.
The first fish I caught was a sea robin. This was no surprise, they are pushovers.

It took me a little while to realize that, though I was only in a foot and a half of water, the stripers were behind me. The were working the bar edges, rooting out sand eels. Though I wanted to look out into deeper water, I was going to need to turn around to catch these bass.

They were very finicky, as most stripers feeding in just inches of water are. I was getting more follows than I was committed takes. In fact I wasn't really getting any takes at all, until I started to let the fly fall and slowed my retrieve. The I managed to pick up a few fish. They were small, but it isn't just about size... it's about the conditions. I don't care what size the fish are, stripers working extremely shallow water, feeding selectively, and demanding a precise presentation is extremely engaging fishing.

After a while the visible bass activity dissipated, so I tied on a Gurgler and attempted to get a topwater sea robin... it didn't take long. Mission success. I left happy.

That was the last time I saw sand eels there so far this year. I kept seeing them in other areas until water temperature climbed too high.
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. 

Maine Striped Bass on the Fly

In early evening, after saying goodbye to Geoff Klane and, shortly thereafter, Massachusetts, Noah and I crossed the bridge over the Piscataqua into the state that would be our home away from home for the next ten days.

(Photo edit by Malachi Lytle)

We headed towards a place we'd visited on our trip last year, where we'd encountered a ton of sand eels and a striper bite that we hadn't quite gotten a good grip on. Although this trip revolved around getting some new species, we also both wanted to fill in some other gaps in our knowledge. Maine provided an opportunity to learn more about striped bass. A lot of the shoreline is structurally different there than southern New England. The primary baitfish is different too. The massive tides, also different. I simply follow learning opportunities wherever they lead me. And they had lead me right back to this beach in southwestern Maine.

We got kind of lucky in regards to meeting the right people there. Surfcasters are a tight-lipped bunch, and rightly so. There is too much to lose by giving away information, especially these days. But the gentleman we met there was kind enough to share a bit. I wish I could remember his name. He suggested what fly I should use and pointed me towards a good spot. In the end I decided to keep away from them just out of respect, especially since there were a number of other surfcasters there. But what he told me will certainly be of use in the future, because I do want to fish this spot again. It has big fish potential. Noah and I want up into a creek to play with some smaller fish that were popping on sand eels. I swung small flatwings. Noah fished an SP Minnow. We got our Maine redemption. 

The next morning we headed further north and east toward Saco Bay and another place we'd encountered stripers but hadn't caught any. We launched the kayaks under hazy skies onto hazy water. Though clearer than many portions of Long Island Sound, and colder, the water here surprised me. It was more turbid and warmer than I'd expected. I wrongly assumed that this would have a negative impact on the fishing. I was wrong.

As far north as were there weren't really likely to be many big fish around this early. As such, though there were tons of massive schools of adult bunker around and the tide, wind, and lighting were more than good enough, there were no cow stripers or big bluefish molesting them. There undoubtedly are some serious bass in Maine in July, but not where we were and not enough that bunker gauruntees a big fish blitz.

What were there, though, were extremely feisty 20 inch class schoolies. The leeward side of every rock outcropping seemed to hold a handful of willing bass. And what they lacked in size they made up for in strength. Cold, clean, oxygenated water makes for very hard fighting stripers. I've caught a lot of small striped bass. I can easily and quickly get most of them to hand without an inch of line getting taken on the 10wt. These fish though, were kicking my butt. I'd really love to lock into a 25 pound bass in Maine.

The method was pretty simple. Floating line, seven foot level 20lb leader, #2 pink and white Half and Half. The erratic, jigging action of the fly when fished with short, quick strips closely imitated the actions of the young of the year Atlantic herring that these fish were feeding on.

After I got about a half dozen goodlooking stripers, we called it quits on familiar species and headed further northeast still, towards the remarkable place that is Mt. Desert Island.

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