Tuesday, May 14, 2019

"Weeding Out" Big Striped Bass

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.

This question was posed by Pat in a comment yesterday: how do you weed through small striped bass to get the big girls? (not verbatim). I see this question come up fairly often, and I've also seen a lot of different answers. And I can say that no simple answer I've seen is right. I've only been fishing for striped bass really consistently since 2016, but in that time I've been through a trial by fire. I learn almost everything by doing, and there's been an awful lot of doing for me since I caught my first striper on the fly. What I haven't learned by doing I've learned from people that have had a lot more time to learn themselves than I have. My methodology comes from a broad range of striped bass angling ideologies. I can look at everyone I've fished for stripers with since I've started and see what I've learned from them and how I've incorporated it in my own fishing. So don't take this as some yahoo newbie thinking he's all that and knows what's what. I've only got one 40" bass on the fly under my belt, I'm not a big bass authority be any stretch. But I am big bass focused and big bass obsessed, and I know people that put up larger fish consistently. So I don't think this is something I can't shed some light on, though my answers may not be what you want.

I personally believe that in most scenarios where there are large numbers of small schooling bass, there aren't many truly large stripers to weed through the small fish for. Big stripers and small stripers act differently and like different things. Just because there's a thousand stripers in a spot doesn't mean there's enough 35-50" bass for it to be possible to catch one that size. My first answer to the question "how do I weed out a big striper" is simple: don't. Go when and where there aren't small fish, but are big fish. The divide could well be very short, like the distance from one bar to the next one out from the beach, or the 35 second it takes for a group of schoolies to quit blitzing and move on and the big clean up crew cows step up to the plate.








The distance between this fish...











...and this fish....
...was the distance between the beach lip and the bar. I couldn't reach the bar that day, and couldn't have with any manor of fly tackle. But Alec could with a long, stiff surf casting rod and a hefty wooden topwater plug, and he caught a good number of really big bass that day. I probably could have too, and I had a few takes from monster bass, but I spent far too much time chasing the breaking schoolies while the big fish were lurking outside of the blitz. My biggest of the day came when I lagged behind the blitz and hooked one of the cleanup crew.


Looking for the cleanup crew is a great way to get on a bigger bass when you've been on a bunch of smalls. You can try to sink a fly through the blitzing fish, and that can work. Big fish are often just under the schoolies, picking off dead and dying bait fish fluttering down to them, but I've honestly had better luck just sticking around in a spot after the blitz has died or moved on. 
Last year, early in the fall, Mark Alpert and I were on a really good morning blitz in the fog, and the busting fish had moved well down the beach to our North when I hooked up with a big bass right where they had been a minute ago. Not many days after that, on the boat with Mike Roy, I hooked into another really nice fish in virtually the same exact circumstances. Then again not long later, on the boat with Mark again, I hooked a big bass and lost it in the rocks where the blitz had just been.


Photo courtesy Mike Roy
My absolute best fly for pulling bigger stripped bass out from below or behind a blitz, or just off rocky structure with no breaking fish at all, is a big white Game Changer. Big fish are lazy. They are looking for something injured or even dead, something they don't need to work to catch, and the Game Changer, fished with an erratic retrieve and long pauses, acts just like a bait fish that a schoolie or snapper blue didn't quite finish the job on.

In the rare scenarios where you actually may have to weed through small fish in the same place as big fish, and I personally have never seen such a thing, you have very limited options. You can up-size flies progressively. Then you can try fishing deeper in the water column. Then you can fish the fly at a very slow pace.  But even an 18" bass will try to eat a 12" fly fished deep and slow a lot of the time. And you are out of luck if the fish are selectively feeding on small bait. If there are tons of 20" bass in the way, you are going to catch those fish first. If you can't just get to the bigger fish by fishing deeper, bigger and slower, we are still left with my first answer to the big question. Don't try to weed through the small fish. It seems crazy to some to leave a fish every cast bite to go look for one taker, but I do it often. I'll stand in one spot for three hours making the same cast and mind numbingly slow swing or retrieve over and over and over looking for one or two big eats. And that's just not something many fly casters will put up with. But most fly casters will never catch a 30lb striper on the fly either. So it's up to you... do you want to run with the crowd and catch the fish that everyone can catch, or do you want to catch big striped bass?

If it's the latter, go where and when there aren't as many schoolies instead of trying to weed through them. 



Sunday, May 12, 2019

Spring In The Salt Marsh

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.

The smell that emanates from a salt marsh is a funny thing. Those who don't spend any time in and around them will recoil from the faintest scent of it. Those like myself can smell it seemingly miles away, and it brings with it both excitement and a unique calm only comparable to returning home after a long trip. I feel safe in and near salt marshes. There are few smells that are as comforting to me as the smell of salt marsh mud. All combined, the smell of the mud and water, the feeling of the grass on my legs, and the sounds of the birds calling and striped bass popping awaken feeling in me I don't have words for.

Were it not to seek those striped bass that so often make popping sounds from within the salt marsh creeks I'm not sure I'd feel the way I do about marshes now. Striped bass dragged me in, and they are one of the things that keeps me there, no doubt. Not the only thing. But one of the biggest things.


You wouldn't know it by my writings, but this striper season, though getting a later start than I would have liked, is shaping up to be my best ever. I haven't felt like I've needed to get back into a rhythm. There have been years where I flat out haven't hit a good rhythm and have blown every shot I've gotten at a truly big striped bass. This is shaping up to be a very different year. Through the winter, a lack of interest and poor reports from folks I trust kept me from going after holdover stripers. Through April, cold weather, flooding, scheduling issues, and some more lack of interest kept me away from places I've done well in early in the season in the past. I made one legitimate striper trip in April and skunked. Then came May. On my 2nd trip of the year I caught a 28" bass and a 33" bass. On the very next night, I caught two 28" bass, a 30" bass, and an absolute brute, my biggest fly rod striper ever. I promise I will write about those trips in detail, but I need time. 



So, thus far the 2019 striper season has spoiled me. Or, rather, 2019 has started to show signs of being the true culmination of four years of pain, frustration, fear, exhaustion, hard work, and time of the water. By the fall of 2017 I believed I was owed a 40" striped bass. All through 2018 I believed that even more. And this spring, instead of going into it believing I was owed a big fish, I went into it believing that all I needed to do was keep working hard for it and my dream fish would come. This would be my "no pressure" season. And less than halfway through May I've already gotten what I wanted out of it. When that happens, if you just keep working hard, it just makes catching big fish even easier. My feeling as I've ventured into the marshes and onto the beach to look for striped bass this season have already changed. I'm still as excited as ever each time, and equally as filled with serenity and calm, but there's a new depth to it now. It as if the places I'd felt at home in for these last few years have accepted me into them. I say "I'm home", just as I did the first time I became attached to these places and the fish in them in 2016, but now they say "welcome home" back to me.

To many of you, I'm sure that sounds cheesy as hell. But I'm sure some of you also get it. If you do...

Here's to the marsh. 
Cheers.




Salt marshes are some of the most at risk habitats in the world, and are also one of the most important. They provide breeding, rearing, and feeding grounds for countless fish, birds, mollusks, and crustaceans, protect coastal areas from devastating storm surge, and filter and clean water. Salt marshes around the world are being destroyed by development, pollution, sea level rise, and climate change. We all need to do our part if these necessary environs are to remain intact and healthy. 

Thursday, May 9, 2019

Of Swamps and Tidal Pools

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.

It happens to everybody. Noah and I went out yesterday. We searched for hours in a variety of likely places, hunting for new fish species. Basically the whole day was spent traipsing across Eastern CT and RI, looking for banded sunfish, swamp darters, and rock gunnels. The first two specie remained entirely elusive except for a few maybe glimpses. And Noah saw one rock gunnel. But other than that, the whole outing was a n abject failure. We may have narrowed down our search area for gunnels, and we've both pretty much accepted that we're going to need to go in the exact opposite direction to find good numbers of banded sunfish. But It was really frustrating.

Fundulus diaphanus, banded killifish



Clemmys guttata, spotted turtle


Blackwater swamp. perfect for banded sunfish and swamp darters, we thought. But we found none.
Don't get me wrong. It wasn't a bad day. We were exploring swamps and tide pools, two of my favorite habitats on the planet to fish. So there was plenty of cool wildlife, plant life, and geology to keep me entertained. But I really had high hopes for catching the three main species we were targeting this day and that just didn't happen. 





Tide pool habitats fascinate me especially. They are harsh places to live, and it takes a tough animal to make to work. Rock gunnels are air breathing, they can live in the wet spaces between rocks in the inter-tidal zone. Lumpfish, though much less abundant in the inter-tidal zone on the North American coastline than in Europe, hide within the weeds and often leave their egg masses in places where they are exposed at low tide. These fish fascinate me, and I hope to catch as many tide pool species as I can this year.




Tautogolabrus adspersus, bergall
Local lifers are becoming harder and harder to come by. But Noah and I aren't giving up. Till next time....

Tuesday, May 7, 2019

The Mosquitofish Saga Continues

With instructions to bag, or rather jar, some mosquitofish from Steve Gephard, Noah and I set out last week to do just that, and hunt down some other new fish as well. I scraped the label off a jar and we stopped on the way to get some isopropyl alcohol. No, this was not going to be a "dead or alive" capture. We needed these fish preserved. We got to the pond and Noah started dip netting. I wanted to get at least one of each sex. Getting females is easy, but there are an awful lot more of them than there are males. It didn't take that long though to sort a male out. I pressed on with my mission to catch one of the fly since it would almost certainly end up being my life Western mosquitofish. Eventually, I did, and we had everything we had come to this pond for except a mudminnow or shiner... next time. Or maybe never, there.

Gambusia affinis (?) Lifer fish #131, rank species



Then we went looking for goldfish, another non-native that isn't the easiest to come by in CT. In a small pond where I'd seen a number of goldfish in the past, we managed to spot only one. And catching it wasn't possible, because it seemed to literally fad away as we looked at it. Clearly it must have just sunk behind some weeds or leaf litter, bit in the dark water it didn't look like it moved, it just looked like it faded away. We figured there wasn't much chance of catching goldfish that were able to phase in and out of this plane of reality, but there were other fish in that pond too. It had a population of the most wacky looking hybrid and pure breed sunfish I've ever seen. Sorting through a bunch of those, I was able to get a new lifer hybrid, bluegill x green sunfish. 




Lepomis macrochirus x Lepomis cyanellus, Lifer #132, rank hybrid.

Ditto.





At a final pond, we ended up just catching some more great looking sunfishes. I'll never complain about a colorful sunfish. Ever. 





Considering I haven't caught a new species or hybrid in months, that was a pretty good day locally. Tomorrow is liable to be even better, as Noah and I attempt to target three wildly different species. Hopefully we catch at least one of them. If not, it will still be an interesting little trip. So stay tuned for that.

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.

Monday, May 6, 2019

11 hours

There are some things some anglers just aren't able or willing to do. Fishing from 9:55 p.m. until 9:00 a.m. the next morning is one of those things. Some anglers don't have the drive. Some don't have the time. Some can't because of work or family or both. Some just don't want to.
I can do that kind of thing right now, and I probably won't be able to forever. And I sure as hell have the drive. So if the bite seems like it could be on, I'll be out there looking for it.

On Friday night I got out on my part time home water well after dark. It was cloudy, foggy, and warm, and a few showers passed through now and then. I poked around a tributary on the way down with nothing to show for it, but as soon as I got to the stretch of the main stem I expected action in I was getting takes on mice. Some were clearly quite small fish, clearly the kind that could barely fit the fly in their mouths. But in no time at all I hooked into a decent fish in a boiling back eddy. It went absolutely ballistic, spending much more time out of the water than in. It turned out to be a holdover rainbow of about 17" with a serious paddle on it. A good enough start. Pushing on, I found that it was the swirling pockets and eddies that produced the most takes rather than the pools, though I would get one or two fish out of each really good pool. The smaller pockets though seemed to have a bunch of fish in them rather than just one or two, which was strange.


The fourth fish of the night, also the fourth rainbow, was a crazy looking hunchback fish, from now on only to be called The Hunchbow of Mouster Dame. Even though I catch a lot of bows on mice during the day, it is unusual for them to make up the bulk of the catch at night, especially in a river with a fair population of wild browns. As if to ease my confusion, I promptly started catching small wild browns. I got through at least 6 of them, all tiny. The a brookie found the fly and I had a mouse slam.

Cool.



I pushed upstream, sticking to the mouse just because it was working really well, but couldn't pull a big brown. I thought I had for a little but it turned out to be another mid-teens rainbow. Then I hit a dead zone for a little while, before hitting a literal wall. I switch to a black Heifer Groomer and turned around. It was now 2:30. The Heifer did just as well as the mouse but in different places. It worked better in the pools.

Killer Carabou in the mouth.


I had basically stopped photographing fish on the way down because it was all just old news. You don't need to see a bunch of stockers, and they didn't need the extra handling time. But just before dawn the powers that be decided I was going to loose my Heifer Groomer to a beaver. I've hooked beavers before, but this time was extra special. It wasn't very big, and my leader seemed unwilling to give. I almost caught the damn thing. Eventually it was my nail not that gave. I getting back to some water where I had missed a few fish early on, so I tied a new leader and a mouse back on. With the light of a new day awakening, I caught three more fish on the mouse, all wild browns.





My plan had been to fish back up the tributary I had started on with streamers, and I did. I've fished this stream for 3 years and not once caught a trout, though I spooked one there last spring and moved a few this winter. Had it not been for moving those few fish I wouldn't have been so keen to fish it. In fact, if it weren't for a good sucker run I'd have stopped fishing it after the first year. Well, something strange happened. After moving a half dozen sizable fish with streamers far to big for them I knew something was afoot. A new leader and an Ausable Ugly and 30 wild brown trout later I was thoroughly confused.







Most of the fish were pint sized yearlings, but they weren't all young fish. I lost a 15 incher, in fact. Sensing that high water was at least part of the answer for this sudden appearance of hundreds of wild trout, I went up an even smaller tributary that I fished just two weeks ago, and I promise there weren't any trout in it then. Well....








High water does strange things. That's all I can say, really.

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.