December 16, 2024 – A Couple Stolen Hours After the Rain – SEPA Limestoner

Another decent rain.

I thought the rain was going to end sooner than it did this morning.  When I was ready to make a move, I checked the gauges and was shocked to see that I would have to wait a little longer.  I guess with the ground being frozen earlier this week, even a .75 inch of rain had more effect than I was counting on.  I was hoping to toss a streamer for a while.  With the holidays approaching, I got involved in some other things around the house and an errand or two, and it was after 1 PM before I checked the local gauges again.  It was go time, but now it was nymphing time not streamer time.  The sun sets around 4:30 PM as we approach the solstice and the shortest days of the year, so I was probably going to have a two-hour window.  I chose a little, self-contained section that I like to check out a couple times per year when I know a lot of fishermen are not going to be out there (or see me back there).  This one was once a bit of a nursery for a better-known crick, but storms and development have done some ravaging.  Still, the fish are there.   They are small, but they are small wild brown trout.  

A lot of little trouts cooperated.  A couple better ones swiped and missed.

I tried jigging a bugger, then swinging that jigged bugger, which elicited swipes but not hookups, before I tried the sj worm and then a few other bugs.  The worm accounted for the best trout, maybe an 8 incher, and a couple big chubs.  When I hung a size 18 CDC tag fly off the bend of that wormy hook, I got at least 5 more small trout.  I did not try the egg, but I assume that would have caught some more small fish.  It got dark quickly, as expected, so I did not cover much water.  I swung a small thin mint bugger back to the ‘Ru and moved two more small trouts, so I may have done better just sticking with plan A and covering water with a bugger.  The clouds and mild temps persisted all afternoon, so it might have been more effective or at least moved better fish.  Today, I was just happy to get out and see that wild fish are hanging on in this tiny suburban crick.

A couple of the chubs may have been bigger!

December 13, 2024 – I Picked a Heck of a Day to Reintroduce Myself to the Post-Spawn Wild Trouts – Northampton County

Back to the trouts.

With the exception of a lightning strike blitz, I think the fat lady has sung on the fall run.  Participation is low, so reports are slim, but it sounds like the fish followed the bait way off the coast.  There is no biomass of rats to liven up December, so I probably made my last trip last week.  It was a disappointing year for me with many skunks.  Blitz chasing can be like that if you are not close enough to be there every day.  I really wanted to get the boy on a mess of slots and shorts before it was all over, but the small fish are just not there.  I believe the science that stocks are low.  The Chesapeake is in a tailspin, and even the Hudson River stock has been way off for a couple years in a row.  I also think that the beach replenishment and the resurgence of bunker has combined to change the fish’s routes and habits.  I heard dudes blaming seals and whales, also quite prevalent this year, but I am not buying it.  Dolf and I talked about going today, and Jeff wants to go this weekend, but I decided instead to refocus on the post-spawn trouts after about a six-week absence.  It was a frigid day for late fall.  Air temps never got above 35 degrees and there was even a NW breeze to contend with midday.  I had low expectations, but I was confident that I could find at least one fish to make the ride worth it.  It may have been the perfect day to get the kinks out because they were not going to make it easy on me.  I arrived around 11 AM and had one hit before 2 PM.  From 2 to 3:30 PM when the sun was less intense on the water and the air (and water) temperatures may have hit their daily peak, I missed one and landed two.  I would call that success for a day like today!

Charged springs, good flows, bluebird skies, finally a late afternoon bite.

I started out dead drifting a micro-bugger in some deep holes, but think I was operating like it was winter because it felt like winter.  I eventually started fishing like it was late fall and fish could still be spread out anywhere after the spawn.  I saw some silted over redds where I always see them on this creek.  I know what to look for on any creek and how to avoid redds, but it does help to have intimate knowledge of a crick and where the fish spawn every year.  The only change I saw was more redds under overhangs, which was probably a smart instinctual thing in the ultra-low water this fall.  The significance of the last rainfall could not be overstated!  The springs were pumping water, flows were solid, and there was even a stain.  Were it warmer and cloudier, I may have wanted to strip and swing a streamer in these flows.  The fish that did hit and eat, took a single size 16 pink tag fly, so not even on the bottom but close.  I missed one on a single 18 perdigon too, but that fish was tucked up under broken water near a root ball.  I saw 10 bugs all afternoon, and nothing was active on the calm surface of the wintering pools.  I may have to get after them again this weekend.  I also have off on the upcoming rainy Monday, so that streamer thing might happen after all.

Didn't know if it was going to happen until this little girl decided to cooperate.

December 8, 2024 – What a Difference a Few Days Makes – Ocean County

SW wind, from Point to Park, the boy.

I actually had Thursday off and Friday morning, and none of the plans lined up with the weather or surf conditions.  Dolf said he was going on Friday morning since he was busy with kid sports all weekend, but he ghosted me for sleep, I guess.  Saturday also looked like a window, and I was packed up to go with Jeff.  When I woke up at 3:30 AM, however, I had a text from a jamoke at 12:30 AM saying he’d had an accident and couldn’t make it.  Instead of rolling ahead without him, I decided to save my energy for a promised trip today with my son.  He was pretty hype after witnessing a bunker blitz last week and landing a fish on a pencil popper.  Even after today’s terrible outing, he wants to give it one last shot next week.  That is cool with me.  I need that secondhand excitement these days to get me up early for the long ride.  It’s a lot of work to be a PA surf angler!  Based on the low participation out there this morning, I am thinking that it’s been a tough week for the land-based anglers.  It was not perfect, that is for sure: SW winds, a significant northward sweep, a little stain.  The boats were way out there, barely visible without binoculars, but one dude who glassed them while we chatted noted all the birds diving around them.  In other words, it was probably still a good weekend for the boat crew, even though their participation dwindles each December too.  Do I pay for December in the slip or not, you know?   The boy and I covered the Point down to the Park and back a couple times just searching after coming up fishless at a few sexy looking spots.  I miss some of those missing year classes!  Even without blitzes, I used to count on a few fish at first light if I found the loons and a nice bar or two before doing the run and gun thing.  Bunker is fun, but some mornings I miss the sandeels dug in for weeks at a time, especially when I am trying to get my boy on a couple fish, regardless of size.  Almost time to chase the trouts again, but I have at least a couple more surf trips in me.  Those boats are still on something, so surf blitz chances remain if the winds get right again.

A skunk, a sense of humor, a shout out from Jeff's Rum Runner amigos? Almost quitting time...

November 29 and December 1, 2024 – A Couple More Surf Trips with Success this Time – Monmouth and Ocean Counties

Hiding 1/3 in his jacket but a very decent first popper fish

I took a ride to fish the second high tide that was poised to flood into sundown of Friday night.  I think the rain earlier in the day, and a blow post-rainstorm, had the fishery off that night.  The water was green with rainwater where the boy and I had found a few blocks of bait (peanuts and sand eels) last visit.  They must have pushed out over the bar or moved south or something today.  I tossed a pencil hoping for a random blow up and did a lot of scanning for life in and above the water.  Because of the stained water, I also tossed my bunker spoon and a black SP Minnow, just to see if fish were there and working with changed visibility.  Not a touch.  Right after the official sunset while I still had some light, I made a move north to another beach that had life a week prior.  Enjoying the rare solitude on the beaches this fall, I fished into the night for an hour with the black SP, a confidence lure, and did not get a touch at the second spot either.

Friday night in MoCo with nary a bump well into dark.

The boy and I met Sandy Dunkin at Grumpy’s on Sunday and rode the Park for the potential early morning bite.  It was frigid and honking from the West, which kept the crowds relatively light.  The boy experienced a couple of firsts in the Park and a much better first later at the aforementioned bait-heavy spot to the north.  It was his first beach buggy excursion, which I know he appreciated in the cold.  I had some fingerless gloves for him, and even a finger guard for handling braid with wet hands, not to mention spanking new chest waders (an early Christmas present) but it was cold out there.  We all wisely did some waiting and hoping from the buggy with the heat running.  In true Sandy fashion, Jeff couldn’t find his waders this morning, so he got wet when the mayhem went off briefly in the Park.  Right before 9 AM, about 100 of our closest friends and we had a shot at a blitz on adult bunker.  I got a 3-ounce pencil into the milieu once, but did not hook up.  Two nice bass were landed in that flurry—out of 50 dudes, mind you.  Still, it was a sign that the adult bunkers was around.  The boy witnessed the madness of a blitz, however brief, so if we didn’t catch, he at least had a buggy ride AND a shot at a blitz.  Heck, we even had seals in the surf zone eating bunker—quite the nature show this fall, although no fox sighting in the Park nor big rutting bucks in MoCo just yet.

An early, cold start in the Park, the warm buggy, and the armada on acres of bait and birds

We rode north and south along the beach looking, and only found one bird eating a peanut on the sand.  The boy spotted a popper that would come in handy later, however.  Score!  We decided to air up and take one last ride to a couple of the spots I had located, including the one I fished Friday that was alive with bait and good soft structure for over a week.  We could see the birds hovering even from the street.  The boy was the first over the dune, and after seeing what was happening, gestured excitedly and was off.  By the time I cleared the dunes, he had run two blocks north to intercept bass and adult bunker in the wash.  I caught up as quickly as I could and launched my pencil into the fray.  My first cast did nothing but confirm the bait in question—I hooked a 10-inch bunker I had to reel in quickly and release.  On my second cast, I hooked a piggy!  I fought a fish at least the size of the one shown below that Jeff landed in the same blitz.  It may have been slightly bigger based on a couple of the fish we did see hit the beach during the same productive window.  I tend to trust my knots and gear, so the drag on my reel was pretty much cranked down.  I caught 50 fish last fall on the same 60lb leader and 30lb braid, but number 51 broke me off.  I don’t know if a weak spot in the braid failed or the connection to the barrel swivel between braid and leader failed, but I lost the fish right over the bar after a solid battle.  I tend to rush them in too, already thinking about the next one, during a blitz.  Sadly, I also lost a lucky wooden pencil that was probably worth 45 bucks in today’s dollars!  In the moment, my concern was getting back in the game.

No waders, rod in the sand at his feet, good bass.

I was delayed while helping Jeff land a great pencil popper fish, and then I took a minute to put a pencil on the boy’s set up when his shad was getting no love.  I did a quick look for an extra leader or at least my leader material in my plug bag, and instead made the executive decision to tie directly to Power Pro and get back in there.  I tied on the popper the boy found in the Park and then decided to hand that rod, my 10-footer, to him in case it helped him get a little more distance.  I grabbed the 9-footer from him and quickly landed a slot fish on a pencil.  Not long after that I could see the 10-foot rod bent over in my peripheral vision.  The boy was hooked up on a slot fish that ate his found popper with extreme prejudice.  Jeff and I both stopped what we were doing to coach him into his first pencil popper bass.  We were all pretty excited, but I had to get a couple more before the blitz was over.  I did land a nicer fish and had a couple other blow ups before it was all over.  I walked out on the bar, which was still covered in scattered and scared adult bunker and peanuts, but couldn't call up a fourth bass.  I bet that 3-ounce lucky pencil would have slayed…  After taking an informal poll amongst the three of us, we decided to be content with our success here after a long morning.  Still plenty of bassing left to go, even with this frigid weather forecast.

They let me get a couple.  That one that got away though....

November 24, 2024 – Mostly Whale Watching and Driving, but a Nice Morning with My Son – Monmouth to Ocean County

The boy a little after 6 AM.

I got my teenaged son out of bed at 4 AM on a Sunday to hunt for the sometimes-elusive migratory striped bass.  The whales and the boats killed it today, I am sure, but we were standing on the beach.  Bait was everywhere!  At one point, I was kicking both peanuts and large sandeels out of the wash so that the boy could live line them in a last-ditch effort for us to connect with at least once bass for all the effort.  We started before sunrise in a spot where I found bait last week, but when nothing materialized in that magic hour, we started running and gunning.  He did the math, and we covered 20 miles of coast, searching for birds, boats, bait balls, twenty-five F150s with rod racks at the same access spot, and so on.  We found fish just out of range of the beach twice.  The tide was falling all morning, so I even went out on the bar with a 3 oz pencil a few times.  I got probably two casts into the hovering but not diving birds, but I did not get a blowup or a hookup.

Peanuts and eels outnumbered the bass.

After finding the whale show at two different spots in Monmouth County, we crossed the inlet into Ocean County after 8 AM, and we found a bonanza of bait in the wash and only 10 other guys there to witness the show.  By the way, we tried in vain to get a video of the whales ascending out of the water, mouths wide open, swallowing peanuts and eels by the dozens.  I guess that’s why the mobile whale watch dude in Belmar makes a living at it and I don’t.  At the Ocean County spot, we saw two slot or just under slot fish caught, but for the amount of bait inside the bar, it should have been bonkers.  It may have been bonkers after 2 PM when the next high tide was due, but the boy’s waders were leaking, and it was only 10 AM when we decided to quit.  I learned my lessons fishing with him as a youth when I kept him out way too long, and I now allow him to make the call when he is done.  He had fun and wants to get out again this fall. Time to start looking for Black Friday deals on cheap chest waders since I now recall those waders leaked last fall....

Sure was pretty.

November 17, 2024 – The Title for This First One Always Seems to Write Itself – Monmouth County, NJ

NW winds but no fish for me...

I rigged up this week and loaded up on Saturday night to make my first surf excursion of the fall, not counting a few casts in October.  I am not superstitious, but it should be a good season since this one started the way all the good ones do: with a skunk.  If you don’t fish the surf much, seeing all the social media posts about blitzes can make it appear like this is an easy fishery.  The simplest way I can break it down is with math.  There is about 50 miles of what I consider prime surf zone in New Jersey, roughly Sandy Hook down to LBI (some might argue Brigantine, but I would not!).  That’s a lot of real estate to cover.  I covered about 8 miles of that 50 and saw zero fish caught, although I heard of success at first light for those lucky enough to find some sandeels dug in.  Me, I got a little spiny dogfish at first light.  I found those eels 6 miles from where I started, a couple hours too late for it to matter—though at least I have a starting spot next time I make the long drive.  Jeff bailed at 4 AM after I was already on the road to meet him.  He was feeling sick.  For him to miss fishing, it had to be bad.  I was texting with young Pete most of the morning, and we actually met up at spot three.  We doubled our effectiveness by not fishing the same spots and just sharing intel.  So together we covered even more (mostly) barren surf!  I should have followed Pete to spot four, however.  He got some intel that something was happening south of us, but it was already 8 AM, and I’d been casting since 5:30 AM, so I declined to follow.  I was not willing to drive 40 minutes to miss a blitz.  Pete, well, he found a great surf bass late in the morning.  He even took PTO on Monday and got another.  Man, I miss the flexibility of my old job sometimes! 

October 19 and 29, 2024 – A Short Surf Attempt and a 6-Hour Drive for 6 Hours of Fishing but Well Worth It – Monmouth County and Central PA

An early start in the mountains of Central Pennsylvania.

This no rain thing is depressing.  At least the bass are starting to migrate into Jersey and will hit the beaches consistently when the winds and water temps get right.  For the time being, looking for a quick getaway on a weekend morning has been nearly impossible.  I did make a few casts on the evening of October 19^th when I was in Asbury Park for a weekend of drinking and socializing, but kids were swimming earlier that afternoon, so my confidence was not high even though the surf looked very sexy.  The following weekend found me looking at gauges and nixing plan after plan, deciding instead to wait until this week to play hooky and fish a destination crick without the crowds.  This destination crick had been holding its flows better than most, but it was still very low.  Still, Penns Crick is almost always a memorable and productive trip, so I made the 3-hour drive in the dark to arrive before sunrise to 35-degree air temperatures but eventually cooperative wild trouts.  Despite my once-common practice for which this blog got its original title, for the first time in quite a long time, I used a true sick day to fish, and I regret nothing.  Remember the math is only bad if the fishing is bad.  Three hours there to fish six to drive three home?  Yep, and I caught over 15 wild trout in so-called “technical” but lovely conditions. 

I gave it a shot at least.

Technical is guide speak for low and clear, basically.  For me that just means small tippet, small bugs, stealthy wading in pocket water, and very careful casts in what deep holes I can find.  It also means fishing early for the advantage of low light.  In the mountains of Central PA, depending on where you fish, that low light could last until 11 AM this time of year, and I was fortunate to find a really good stretch of pocket water right as the warmup and the last of the shade converged with a sparse hatch of small caddis and midges.  I caught maybe 5 small fish, including a double (so 6), on small bugs under a small bobber before the magic two-hour window.  It was cold to start, a few clicks above freezing, so the slow start was not unexpected.  During that perfect two-hour window, however, I landed a couple good fish in pocket water, a handful of 12-13 inchers, and more smalls.  I even found one of the rainbows that the locals put in and had my second double of the year too.  I eventually settled on a single olive perdigon and fished upstream.  Most of the better fish ate when I was well below them fishing a long 5X leader—another “technical” approach I use. 

A good fish in "technical" conditions.

A couple of the females looked misshapen and hollow enough to have been post-spawn, but I saw no evidence of redds.  I recall Sam, who knows this spot well and even gave me some boots on the ground intel the evening before, saying that he believes most of the fish here use the tributaries because they have better gravel substrate in them.  Sam was guiding (again) today, so we have yet to find time to fish together this year!  I can confirm that even in the low water, I noted nothing that looked like good spawning habitat.  When I fished around one nice island and expected to see redds, there was nothing but large rubble fanning out behind.  There were some fish in all the deeper riffles and pockets in the riffles, one pushing over mid-teens and a few over 12 inches.  That handful alone made it worth the long ride.

More fishes.  Post spawn hen below?  Doub life.

When I reached the end of the island, it was close to noon, so I decided to walk back to the lot and take a break.  My day had started before 2 AM when I got up to piss an hour before the 3 AM alarm, so I was running on caffeine and freedom.  On the walk back I did watch a couple pods of average fish dimpling for olives or midges, so I debated walking back up after the break and fishing the same stretch again in warmer (but far brighter and breezier) conditions.  Instead, I decided to test my memory and navigation skills to find another unposted stretch of water where I have had some memorable visits with Sam.  Access to this stretch is in flux with some purple paint upstream and what appears, judging from all the trampled grass and riparian plants, to be a thriving Airbnb downstream, but I found the riffle and bend pool.  Water was low and clear, so after nymphing the head and some pockets without a touch, I even fished with a New Zealand indicator for 30 minutes in the deeper water near the tailout.  Not a touch.  I spooked one fish out from under a rock as I made a crossing to fish the opposite bank—a novelty crossing since it would have been impossible on most days.  I was hoping that I might scare one up in a deeper run along that far bank and away from the pressure, but that productive morning window had likely closed for a few hours.

Even lower at the second spot I managed to relocate.

With the breeze kicking up and some increased clouds, I was hoping for some bug life to save the second shift, but I resisted heading back to the first spot.  It would have been a lot of effort if the fish down there were acting the same way as their cousins upstream.  I accepted that the productive window had closed and decided to get a jump on any Harrisburg rush hour traffic.  The boys, especially Sandy Dunkin, are chomping at the bit for some surf fishing.  Pete already had success with the snag and drop fleet in North Jersey, so if I head out this weekend it may be in search of striped bass from the sand.  I would rather be here in these mountains, however!  The drive up took me over the depressingly low Juniata and Susquehanna rivers, but the drive home had me winding through the heights of the Bald Eagle State Forest.  I have done this drive while snow was falling on the peaks in January.  Today’s drive was equally enjoyable with the remaining fall colors, and probably a lot safer.

Bonus shots.  Another angle of the best fish of the morning.