One of my goals after getting my 40"+ striped bass was catching some bass of any size out of some seriously tiny water. I was looking for striped bass in a proper small, freestone trout stream. That was the goal. And it was going to take some doing. Stripers do push into some tiny cuts, mosquito ditches, and creeks along the shoreline with fair regularity. I've caught those fish. They're no big deal, frankly. The comfortably come and go with ease. A striper has to jump through far more hoops to get into a 12ft wide pool above the first few sets of riffles in a creek that averages between 20 and 75cfs flow rate, 15-50 miles from the open sound.
I wanted a striped bass in brook trout water. And I knew if I hit it right I could.
I set my sights on two streams in the same watershed. Both had herring runs of some significance, but more importantly they both drained a large enough watershed to draw substantial yellow eel numbers. I was relying on yellow eels because, very simply, they do draw small bass that can't effectively eat adult river herring. And I needed small fish attraction because I knew I wouldn't be able to reliably find enough herring to actually draw in big bass, which need a lot of coaxing to put themselves in such a vulnerable state. For one thing, as big and tough as a 36 inch striper is, they simply did not evolve to shoot up shallow riffles. And after they do, they're sitting ducks for otters and other medium to large piscivorous mammals. Smaller bass, smaller profile, harder to notice in hardly any water. I did know that it was possible to encounter a fish of 30-40 inches in my target water, I also knew it would take a massive push of herring to bring such fish in and that I very likely wouldn't get to see such a push of herring.
In the span of two weeks I put in a lot of time into my two target streams, fishing from the furthest point upstream I thought the odd striper might maybe reach, to the frog water below the head of tide. Though I was determined to catch a striper above the head of tide in one stream or both, it would have been a poor decision to ignore the wide, flat, slow water at their mouths. That's where there was most likely to be bass, and big ones at that.
Unfortunately, for a few nights, that's the only place I could find stripers. But they did somewhat feed my urges to catch striped bass acting like trout, because they demanded very trouty presentations.
During the day, they wouldn't touch much of anything but a heavily weighted, high stick-jigged woolly bugger. That was pretty cool.
After dark, they'd ignore anything that wasn't floating and dead drifted. They even seemed indifferent to twitches. They'd still take, but no more or less than on a dead drift with no action applied. Swing, strip, or retrieve the fly in any manor in which it didn't flow naturally with the current as though it were a giant, helpless insect, and it went ignored. I fished unweighted deer hair head flies for this, and if they started to sink I applied them with floatant. I think these fish actually were keyed in on floating bugs. I noted dobson flies, large golden stones, and some very early hex during my time on these streams, and I saw nothing else on, in, or near the surface film to pull the attention of these fish there... I am fairly certain I was literally fishing to striped bass rising to insects. And that was really, really cool.
Through much of my stint on the small water I had a big, bright moon. In terms of good fishing, it didn't help. In terms of getting around small streams at 2:00a.m., It was seriously helpful. With trees fully in leaf I was rather clumsily maneuvering my way through the woods on the cloudy nights. I'm out in the woods during the none-human hours an awful lot, both fishing and studying all manor of nocturnal wildlife, so when it's so dark that I'm having even minor issues navigating, that can mean only one thing....
It is really, really, really f****** dark.
To get an idea of what I was working with, the following shot is of one of the pools in which I knew I had a good shot at getting a schoolie out of well above the head of tide. Ideally, I'd need to place my fly just a few inches from that far bank, which, though a short cast, is a to a target I can't see at all, under overhanging limbs on that side of the stream, blocked by overhanging limbs on my side as well. And that cast would need to be made from a steep, almost cliff like bank. You can't simply walk up to one of these streams in the middle of the night and catch a striped bass on the fly. Not even a 14 inch striped bass. It takes some serious time, lots of trial, and lots of error.
On my fourth attempt, I fished for an hour without any signs of fish of any kind. Then, in the riffle at the head of one pool I had some hope for, I came tight to a fish that could only have been a striped bass. It was clearly not very big, maybe 18 inches, but when it came off I was every bit as flustered as I would be had that been a 24 inch wild brown trout. Luckily, the next night I got my revenge. I have to wonder if it was the same fish. It was in the same pool, though not in the riffle at the head but right in the middle in the deepest, slowest water. It took a simple flatwing pattern. And It made me quite pleased. This fish had traveled long and far to come to this little freshwater river. Why? Why didn't it simply go somewhere more convenient?
Who knows. But it is a glorious thing to think about. What a counterintuitive thing for a fish to do! This fish had come into water that it looked out of place in, but had adopted strategies no different from the fish that reside there all year. Essentially, this was a trout in a striper's skin. Let this be a lesson, though. Because stripers don't only act like trout when they're in trout water. Using trout tactics is a really good way to catch bass in a variety of circumstances.
I gave that little guy a kiss on the top of his head, said thank you, and them felt him slip out of my hands. Where will he go next? How big will he get? How long will he live. That little fish doesn't know much. It just does what it is biologically programmed to do. It will see things that to me would be life alteringly spectacular, but it will be completely indifferent to those things. That little striped bass doesn't care about much. And yet I can't stop thinking about where it will go and the things it might encounter. I want to know. I want to see what it sees. No, I need to see what it sees.
I am a simple man. I need fish. I need to see them. Catch them. Hold them in my hands. I need to know every detail of their existences. I will follow them up rivers and creeks, around lakes, and along miles and miles of ocean shoreline to do these things. And I need to protect them. Fish aren't just food for us, and they aren't just food for other fish that we like to catch more, or other animals that we like to look at. We are failing to see the actual value of some of the most remarkable animals... it's a travesty. It really is.
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