December 22, 2017 – He’s Making a List: A Litany of Lessons Learned on My Last Surf Trip of the Year, My First with the Fly Rod – Ocean County, NJ

The last trip, for real....

Twenty-two things I learned today:

1. I need to buy a 9 or 10 weight rod if I really want to attempt this again.
2. Stripping basket
3. Fly lines love the metal hooks on one's gravel guards; this has been true for streamer fisherman on rivers and cricks since the dawn of time, but it is even truer in the surf.
4. Stripping basket.
5. Both pairs of my waders now leak—not awesome in December.  Even though LL Bean has and will again totally refund my money on both pairs, I will be on my third set of mid-priced stocking foots this season, second boot foot for the salt.
6. Simms and Patagonia are $499.99 but when one fishes 100+ times in a year, they may be a necessary investment.
7. There is a reason Simms uses neoprene gravel guards.
8. I know a guy who puts in some shifts at a fly shop that carries the aforementioned brands, and I will have refund money from two sets of LL Bean waders shortly.
9. Kneel less or get knee pads (Wardman inserts joke here).
10. A good saltwater fly line needed, one suited for hard work in winter air and water temperatures.
11. A new bass/streamer line also now needed.
12. Part time job needed or wealthier spouse or adoption by well-heeled fly fisher of both means and generous spirit.
13. Damn!  9 weight rod will require reel, backing, and line, yeah?
14. There’s always a chance a young bull may get up 15 minutes before me and arrive at my “secret spot” and catch two fish before I hoof it up there.
15. Fish the low tide if you need to wade like a hero.
16. Ocean fish, even 25 inchers, are like river fish on steroids.
17. Use heavier tippet.
18. Don’t trust NOAA.
19. In December, a one skunk streak, not my historically self-imposed two skunk rule, is enough to call it quits for the year.
20. I may like this whole fly rod in the surf thing if I am better prepared and better equipped next fall.
21. Work smarter not harder in tough conditions.
22. Stripping basket.

Worth the price of gas, I think.

As you can probably read between the lines above, I took my last surf trip of the year this morning, on a mission to catch even a rat on the fly rod.  NOAA said light NE winds turning SE, and that was true at 10 AM when I was walking home, but it was a snottier NE before sunrise, and I got beat up and moisturized early trying to get out far enough in an incoming tide to double-haul and shoot enough line to likely holding spots.  Standing in the wash meant getting lassoed by fly line in the 3-4 foot swell with barely a 2-3 second wave period, so the only way around the nonexistent stripping basket, was to stand deeper and remember to stay standing.  My waders leaked in both legs.  My SA Mastery Sharkwave line meant to shoot streamers on the Delaware and Susquehanna is toast, cut with 10+ yards missing.  Instead of a rat, I guess I hooked one of those slot size fish whose mouths are just big enough to gorge on Atlantic herring, and it broke my 10 lb. fluorocarbon leader and took my favorite half ‘n’ half teaser, of which I had one with me.  

Did delaying to take sunrise pics cost me fish?  Who cares!

When I arrived it was nearly dark still, but I could see a silhouette up the beach in my honey hole, my shore/sure thing this morning.  When I spoke to him later, he said he caught two there on a black Mag Darter.  When I was sick with surf fishing, I used to quit for the season after logging two consecutive skunks in December.  With the price of gas and fly lines and waders these days, my new rule is two skunks suggested but only one is required, especially when all the signs of life that were present two days ago are now absent, no bait, no birds  Back to the trout once I get a pair of waders.  Happy Holidays to all!  I hope Santa is good to you (Shh…Pete may still think he’s real).  And may you mitches catch mad fishes in the new year…

December 20, 2017 – In Retrospect, Perhaps the Penultimate – Ocean County, NJ

I thought Monday was the last jetty, but my dad was free to fish today, so we made quick plans to take one more shot at the schoolies in the surf before the holidays are upon us.  A keeper is a giant in the wash this time of year, but I will take any excuse to fish the surf with a plug.  Fluke, kingfish, short bass, puppy drum—on the right tackle it’s still surf fishing, and for me that alone has an allure and presents unique challenges, especially on artificial lures. Tuesday was ridiculously nice, too nice, in fact; I am sure a lot of mitches took sick days yesterday (no offense to you mitches who did, as I had to work in Center City and then do small engine repair on my aging washing machine) but I had a feeling that today’s early morning would continue mild and not too breezy, until the sun got up, at least.  Thankfully, I was right.  A strong NW wind in the wee hours knocked down the surf, and the same wind came back strong after a cloud-obscured sunrise, so we had a pretty uniformly dull canvas to paint on with small plugs and teasers, and we had only 2 hours of incoming tide—moving water, in other words—to work with, as well, but we found about five fish up to 24 inches.  My dad got one on his green teaser, but I managed three on a 6 inch Mag Minnow and one broadside on a snag hook meant for Atlantic herring…

 

Monday, it was all about the teaser, but today, the fish took the plug.

When we arrived at false dawn, the surf was alive with bait.  Loons and brant geese were diving for small bait, likely sand eels, but gannets were plunging half a mile off at larger fare.  After seeing a few tail swipes that looked like herring near the surface, I threw a snag hook but caught only scales until I managed to snag a juvenile bass in the tail.  The 15 inch fish had me fooled for a second, like that I snagged a big herring and a bigger bass had immediately grabbed it, but in the clear water, I could soon see that I was mistaken.  Instead of swimming the poor guy for a bit to see who would bite (kidding!), I gently let him off the hook hopefully to heal up and live to fight again.  Needless to say, I took off the snag hook after that and resumed throwing a plug.  

A little closer to legal today....

The shiny objects in the water kept us distracted from the original game plan, which was to hoof it up to a piece of structure that is not reachable from a street-end.  Of course, I hooked one that I lost in the wash, and landed two more fish, including one about 24 inches, not long after arriving at the place that was our originally planned destination.  I really wanted to get my dad on some fish, but after spending another 30 minutes fishing this spot, we found no other residents, so we moved up to one final point and hole where I figured there may be fish.  Nothing there either…  My dad’s shoulder was hurting a bit, so after a rest, he started walking back south towards where we parked. I urged him to stop at the honey hole again, and he did, and I got to watch him from a distance hook and land a shortie on the teaser.  My cough was really awesome by the time I chop-chopped it down to him to take a photo, but he was happy and seemed content to get at least one.

Until April of 2018?

We both fished this spot (again) together for a while longer and had some short hits right at the outer and inner lips of the slough, a totally different bite than Monday, where the fish took the teaser at the end of long casts, but we were there with a totally different tide and surf conditions, of course.  At slack tide, the water was just a slowly undulating mass of gray water with only a short shore break, and we were not going to wait for low tide to arrive, especially since I still have 20 research papers left to read and grades to turn into the registrar, so we called it good around 9:45 AM and headed for home.  

December 18, 2017 – Bar Wars, Episode ???: The Last Jetty (for 2017, Anyway) – Ocean County, NJ

The fish are with me, I am one with the fish, the fish are with me, I am one with the fish, the fish are with me....

I had to take a ride to LBI today to pick up a gift for someone special (no not the Silver Fox), so I packed the Subaru before I left my house around 11 AM with a light Ron Arra 9-footer that serves as my schoolie rod, my plug bag and some teasers, my dry top for some bar wading, and a pair of boot foot waders.  It was a gorgeous day, so while I didn’t have high hopes, I was looking forward to breathing the salt air while waist-deep in the Atlantic—I have been sick for about 10 days and counting, some upper-respiratory thing that is lingering far too long.  Today would be another one of those 90 minute rides to fish two hours, followed by a 90 minute ride back, but it had to be done.

I liked the shadow shot...

This time of year, if the conditions and tide are right, one can get into a mess of little bass between 12 and 24 inches, and that was my wish today—okay, maybe not a mess, but a few in case this was my last chance to fish the beach this year.  After running my errands on the island, I arrived on the beach around 1 PM to a light breeze, high sun (not the clouds forecasted) and a nearly low tide.  Besides the high sun, things were looking promising.  I wasted little time and headed right to a rip that has been productive for me for several years.  No matter what they pump as far as sand at this location, nature seems to start digging and pulling away pretty quickly. 

Teaser scored them all, not the plug.

 No one was home for the first 45 minutes, but I did get a bump right as my line was being pulled by a wave; it was the distinct bump that spells bass, but a slight belly in the line meant no hook up.  I couldn’t get the fish to come back, so I eventually tried a couple other plugs before settling on a Mag Minnow that casts a mile in a West wind, even a light one like today.  After taking a different approach to the rip and cut in the bar by wading out parallel to the structure on a shallow point, I finally hooked a fish on the yellow and white epoxy/feather teaser.  No pics of this little guy since I was out in the waves, but he was only 15 inches or so.  Still, it felt good to have two hits and land one.  I landed one more fish at this spot before heading back to a couple holes that I passed on the way up the beach.  Even at low tide, these holes still had some water in them due to cuts letting water flood in.  I managed two more fish, also on the teaser, all the way at the end of my cast in that subtle cut in the bar.  Time was running out, but as luck would have it, it got a little cloudy just before 3 PM, and a landed one more little guy, closer to the slough this time.  After doing the one more cast, one more cast thing a few more times, I knew I had to quit and get on the road, but I was pleased that I had some action mid-day in the sun, even if they were all under 20 inches long.  On the right rod and reel, they are still fun fish.  My only regret is that I didn’t bring the fly rod this time.  Maybe one more episode of Bar Wars in what’s left of jetty country this week?

Should have thrown Clousers on the 7 weight, but it was a fun afternoon anyway.

December 12, 2017 – Keeping it 100 – Valley Creek

My 100th fishing trip for 2017 so far, and these little guys were my company of choice?

I reached an arguably auspicious milestone for 2017 in a totally inauspicious way today by logging my 100th fishing trip.  Not too shabby for a guy with a full time job that is not in the fishing guide business, no?  I should have marked the day with something more memorable, like a State College run or a striper in the snow this past weekend, but I have tried to keep an accurate log of my trips as they fall, skunks and all, planned and impulsive, for the last few years, so why should this year be any different, I figured.  The saying is, Keep it 100, which is keeping it real, yo, so I marked today in totally realistic fashion.  I also marked the day by purchasing my 2018 license and restocking with some midges and size 18 BWO’s, and I am expecting an early Christmas present to myself from Sam’s vice this week too, so if we get a mild patch before the end of the year, I may well exceed the century mark (by like 5, 10?) with something more, you know, memorable.

So, yeah, the risers I missed were on the OTHER side of that riffle, under the bushes, of course.

I have been sick for a few days, an upper respiratory thing that keeps me up nights and wears me out from coughing all day.  Yesterday was milder, but I felt even worse yesterday.  Today was not bad, maybe 45 degrees with cloud cover and drizzle, which is blue-winged olive weather, and I felt just as miserable, so I figured miserable at home or miserable getting some fresh air and a fish or two? Valley Creek was extremely low up where I visited for an hour this afternoon, but I found fish active in one fishable hole.  I was not all there mentally, so I left my polarized glasses in the car, and I walked all the way to the creek with my 9 foot 5 weight in my hands, like I was going to chunk streamers or something, even though I had a dry dropper already rigged on my 3 weight still sitting in the Subaru.  Oh, well, I landed two dinks on a small bugger, and I miffed on two risers who splashed at my dry fly too.  Just keepin’ it a hunnit, right?

December 5, 2017 – One Last Warm One for a While – Brodhead Creek

Pale and sparsely spotted beauty about 12 inches.

Kenny and I had a smallmouth charter trip on the Susquehanna cancelled today due to winds and possible rain, but mostly high winds.  This is the second trip this year that we did not take, but I guess it's better than dropping two bills on a miserable day! While Kenny caught up on some work on a bonus day at home (and a new fishing-related business venture, which I will share more on at another time), I caught up on some fishing, figuring today was going to be the last warm day for a while.  

The beach would be a mess with strong south winds and swell, which would be fine if the fish were not all shorts, which usually take smaller lures and/or vacate the surf zone for calmer waters when it is too snotty.  I have wanted to explore a couple spots on the Brodhead that I have not fished in a long time, so that, and a few stops along the way to prospect, became the late morning plan.  

A dreary, drizzly day, but a warm one.

Some buddies and I used to chase smallies in this section in the summers, back probably 20 years ago, and I caught some big trout while targeting bass too, but I have not fly fished this area for trout that I can recall.  The Brodhead is a freestoner, so it is cold this time of year, but I was hoping that the last few mild days would bring some fish out, maybe even coax them to chase a slowly swinging streamer if the rain arrived early enough in the day.  That early rain didn’t happen, holding off just in time for my drive home (with multiple slowdowns due to wet roads and fender benders) but I was actually okay with not having to don the raingear today.

Pretty spot, despite the clouds.

Well, I saw exactly three fish, landing two, both on a walt’s worm bouncing low in slower seams on a tight line.  I had a couple halfhearted bumps on the streamer, too, and I saw a decent one pursue the Roberdeau from his lair under a sunken log, but I couldn’t get him to come out again after he turned back towards cover.  It was good to see this area of the creek again, however.  With the water so low and clear, I could see deep spots and structure to target in late spring or early summer next year, maybe even with a streamer.

Blurry pic of the better fish.

The two wild fish I caught were just as pretty as I remember them to be here, very pale and sparsely colored—due to the sun-bleached round stones in much of the pocket water—but also fat and healthy.  One was a good 14 inches and thick around the middle.  I actually saw two abandoned redds, which I took care to avoid, hoping those eggs have a good winter.  I took the long road up there too, which was enjoyable.  I hugged the Delaware for most of the trip and stopped to check out a few small tribs with wild reproduction—none worth fishing today with the low water conditions, even the ones with a little spring influence.  It looks like a taste of winter is on the way, but I am sure I will sneak out again soon before the striped ones are gone from the coast.  A few local streams are stocked, as well, and I am hoping Valley is okay to fish in another couple of weeks, post spawn.  The redds in the Lehigh Valley last week were vacant about half of the time, which hopefully means the SEPA fish will be done doing their thing soon.  With only about four hours of productive fishing hours in the winter, short drives become more attractive as the days too grow shorter and shorter.

December 1, 2017 – Two Guys Walk into the Surf – Ocean County, New Jersey

It looked fishy, as did Joe.

Two anglers walked out onto the strand this morning, just as the gray light of predawn was blurring the clarity of white stars and black sky, a north to south sweep of current and a moderate swell dictating just how far they might venture into the frothy white water.  The air was cold but temperate for the first day of December, the wind out of the west before it chose to turn NNW at maybe 15 knots, a hint of bunker in the active air, the organic, oily smell of live menhaden that drives bass and gannets to feed, albeit miles from the shore, as is so often the case in this era of beach replenishment and re-replenishment of replenished beaches, a struggle mankind should and will surely lose someday.  

In days of yore we called this a good-eating slot fish: 26 and change.

The publicly-funded dunes kept the two men, now revealed by the imminent sunrise to be father and son, comfortable and the wind made their casts heroic, assisting them in reaching the edge of the sandbar even at near-flood tide.  As the sun continued to rise and the tide to fall, exposing some more targets to, well, target with their diving plugs and bucktails, both led by feather teasers for more finicky quarry or, as is often the case this time of the season, eager but by no means suicidal smaller prey making only their first or perhaps second coastal migrations.

The fishier of the two with fish...

So, two anglers walked out onto the beach, following a long, pre-dawn drive, and made wind-assisted casts into the surf, and both of them, first the son and then the father, felt the half-expected, always-uncanny strike of a striped bass; and yet only one of them—the, as some say, “fishier” of the two, the one who will likely log one-hundred fishing trips this year—landed his fish, one that measured short of legal, but not by much.  Yes, unfortunately, it was the son who landed his sub-legal bass, while the father lost his in the wash near shore.  The son would have preferred the inverse to be true (honestly) but he did enjoy the morning with his still capable and moderately “fishy” father.