December 28, 2019 – It Usually Ends with a Thorough Skunking – Ocean County Surf

We had a chance.

Jeff and I gave it one last shot this morning with mild temps and an incoming tide at first light.  I have not even attempted to fish this late in the season for a long time, but I was happy to have some enthusiastic, reliable partners this fall in the absence of my dad.  Jeff is perhaps the most enthused, but Pete was also out this morning a little further north of us, so he is also sick with it.  Since I have been keeping the blog, it appears that that latest I have quit in recent years is around December 22.  It was a long shot today but by no means a lost cause.  Geese and loons were still diving, though I did not see them coming up with anything specific.  We also had a school of Atlantic herring right in the wash with us, but no bass big enough to eat them—almost no bass period, perhaps. 

Calmed a bit after high tide, but no fish made it to the sand.

Despite some whitewater and good visibility, we unfortunately did not go out with a bang in 2019.  I was only hoping for shorts or even rats, but I dropped the only fish I hooked after it was clobbered by a 4-footer.  Otherwise, we both had a couple bumps in close that did not connect.  That usually means overenthusiastic little fellas.  Besides few remaining fish around, the heavier surf may have been the issue: the surf was sexy for bigger schoolies, a steady shore break, but it was a bit dicey for 15 inchers, I think.  I have done best with rats on a calm high tide before sunrise or just before sunset.  The little Mag Minnow I tried to throw to target little ones before we quit was just getting pushing around aimlessly in the north to south sweep and the 3 and 4 foot shore break.  Sexy surf for November, but maybe a bit much for today.  At least it was warm enough to give my gear a good hosing down back home this morning.   All in all, it was a rather good fall run of small fish, and I hope some of these many shorts survive until next year, but I am ready to go back to trout fishing.

December 23, 2019 – Caught Three While She Caught a Birthday Nap – SEPA Freestoner

Smalls.

Today is Tami’s birthday, but I was still able to sneak a short one in this morning.  We have some plans later, but the boy had one last half-day of school to log, and Kenny had a morning appointment—no construction until noon-ish—so the birthday girl wisely wanted a birthday nap to take advantage of the quiet.  With those factors in mind, I just took a short drive to a SEPA freestoner that gets a fall stocking by my local TU chapter.  I had heard the fish were small, and they certainly were ridiculously so, but I was just looking to get out for a couple hours, total driving and fishing, and so this fit the bill.  I also put a new 3 weight line on my reel yesterday, a pricey one that I wanted to cast in the cold.  I landed three rainbows under 9 inches long on a size 18 pheasant tail under a small indicator, and I got a bit of a walk in on a mild early winter day.  The line performed well too, so fishing day 83 of 2019 was a mild success.  I am sure the afternoon festivities, and possibly a trip to Asbury Park tomorrow for the Pinball Museum, will be far more fun, though!

Pretty, cold, but tomorrow could be good with this warm up.

December 21, 2019 – Now That’s What I Call Surf Fishing! Volume 4 – Ocean County, NJ

Yeah, that reads 18 F.  The boys look much warmer on the beach at 9 AM though, right?

It was bound to happen.  It always does at some point each December.  I certainly had a nice run of three consistently good trips, but my luck in the surf ran out today. It is not all that surprising that Pete, Jeff, and I had a tough bite on the morning before the winter solstice.  With a steady, NNW wind and low air temps, it is amazing that we did find a couple little fish to help us avoid a total skunk today.  The small fish are still around, I believe.  Water temperatures are okay, and loons and other diving birds are still bringing up sand eels just out of reach of our most heroic casts.  Blame it on a less than favorable tide at sunrise, no surf to speak of, and sunny conditions, maybe.  Pete and I even left the plug bags on the sand and tried to forge the distance of the slough to get to the bar, but it was just a tad too deep in this particular spot, even with low tide quickly approaching.  Jeff, in hippers, wisely watched from the strand.  It’s a long ride for a couple 18 inch fish, but I still have a tolerance for a good solid skunk in me before I give up for the season, and the other guys feel the same way, so we may get out again before it is all over. 

Muted sunrise but flat calm on the quickly falling tide.

Fishing the surf this time of year is not without its inconveniences.  Besides the cold and the long rides that are just part of the experience for a registered shoobie, it becomes a real pain to rinse off the salt water from ones gear when the outdoor hose is iced up solid.  Perhaps you are familiar with rinsing waders in the shower?  Plugs in the sink?  Bring a bucket from the inside to the outdoors to pour over all your stuff?  Well, young Kenny is still working on my master bathroom, so the shower trick was out today, but maybe the others took that option.  I chose the bucket of warm water trick.  None of us had many plugs to rinse.  Pete’s fish took an SP minnow in the 11^th hour (8:45 AM), and mine took a soft plastic sand eel delivered with a 1 ounce T-Hex well after closing time.  Jeff was just good company today, but it could have been any one of us.

The hail marys to avoid the skunk.

The parking lots for shoppers were far busier than the beach today, but the warm up around Christmas may change that.  I think the cold kept most fishermen off the beach this morning.  Jeff kicked around driving another Ocean County beach tomorrow, but I think we will likely wait until December 24 or after the holiday—at least I will!  We want to get my buddy Dolf out one last time for the year, even if we only catch a mess of rats.  I am still confident it can happen, but today was a reminder that someone is warming up her pipes.  At least someone was warm today.

December 17, 2019 – Yep, I Was Out Standing in the Rain Again – Valley Creek

First Valley fish in over six weeks was not a bad one.

I tried to fish falling water today with a streamer, but I had to turn to the sj worm again to put any fish in the net.  I did not expect to fish this afternoon because I am working through final papers for my three classes.  Grades are due on December 19, and then I am off until mid-January, so I am motivated to get them finished.  By 11:30 AM this morning, however, I had graded all the papers submitted thus far.  I have a bunch due tonight at 11:59 PM, and Kenny is resuming work on my bathroom remodel.  I have provided some unskilled labor for the demo so far, and am on stand-by as the muscle(?).  Not needed today, I took advantage of a few free hours to fish Valley for the first time since the first day of November.  I usually give the fish there some time to spawn, and even today I waded as little as possible to avoid disturbing the eggs.  Chasing stockies again was an option, but I figured the freestoners would be even colder and even higher.  Valley was around 100 CFS and falling when I checked at 11 AM, which looked encouraging, but it kind of stayed there.  I was hoping for clearing and improving conditions, but rain continued to fall and, if the gages are correct, kept the creek around 100 CFS for the entire time I was on the water.  I certainly noticed no change in conditions or fish behavior.

Stayed dirty and just over 100 CFS

I tried a few different colors, sizes, and styles of streamer, and I also tried a few different types of water.  In the first 90 minutes on the water, I only had two half-hearted bumps, and I never saw the flash of a moving fish.  The water was cold and dirty, so I should not have been too surprised.  It was raining off and on, sometimes steadily, and the air temps hovered around 35 degrees, so neither the atmosphere nor the sun did anything to warm things up either.  I decided to look for the one for a little while, throwing a big bugger that would get deep and move some water, but to avoid the skunk I eventually rigged up a tapered leader and a couple big bugs under an indicator.

Again, with the sj worm.  Desperate times, I guess...

I used a big dark stonefly or slate drake pattern as the anchor fly and a san juan worm on the dropper to target a couple deep, slow holes, the kind of places I would midge if the water were clearer.  I was relieved to shake the skunk and really happy to land a good fish over 12 inches shortly thereafter.  I was worried my first might also be my last fish, as 3 PM was approaching quickly, but I also landed another on the sj worm a little while later.  This fish was a Valley average.  I would like to say that I had finally figured out today’s pattern, and maybe I did, but it was getting towards quitting time.  Not only that, but the prime hours of the day were also quickly passing me by.  I could feel the temperature getting colder and see the skies getting darker by the minute.  Knowing traffic at 3:30 PM in the rain would be dicey, I headed for home with a whopping two fish tally.  Not the best fishing day of the year, but I did get out for a while and notch trip 81 for 2019.  I think a warm up is coming, so while I am not going to hit 100 this year, 85 is a strong possibility?

More time for standing in the rain remaining in 2019?

December 13, 2019 – At Least this Kind of Weather Keeps Most Fishermen At Home – Tulpehocken Creek

A little brown, a little high, a little gray, and a little wet today.

I am starting to miss the wild trout, but I was not ready to trample inadvertently over recently-abandoned redds or stand in the rain and drag some midges through deep holes.  I taught last night, so I knew I would sleep too late to hit the tide right at the beach.  Instead, I had the idea that walking with a streamer would be less tedious and dreary than standing in the rain watching an indicator.  I have fished in some form of precipitation the last three times I have been out, which I don’t hate, especially if I have the psychological edge of remaining active and moving, but it took me until 10 AM to leave the house this morning, so my motivation was still a bit low, I suppose.  I wrote down two spots last night before bed, and the second was the Tully.  Honestly, I am not a huge fan of the Tully, but I make a few trips each year because it gets stocked heavily and thoroughly.  It is also a Keystone Select DHALO for a portion, and the TCO store in Reading even stocks brown trout fingerlings.  Heck, there are even a few wild ones in there from two tributaries with wild reproduction.  There are also a lot of places to fish, so if it is crowded, as it often is, there is always somewhere to go to get some space and possibly find fish.  The crowds are one reason I am not a fan, so I often pick bad weather days, cold, rain, high water, Tuesdays, anything to give me a little elbow room.  Besides being a Friday, today certainly fit the bill.

A few pretty little browns on the big olive bugger.

As I said above, I did not get motivated to leave the house for the hour ride to the creek until 10 AM.  By that time, the rain had started to move in, but it was more like isolated showers and a sprinkle or two on the drive out.  The temps were moderate for mid-December, hovering around 40 to 45 degrees.  Those lighter rain conditions lasted the first hour on the water, and then it started to become steadier around midday.  I fished from 11 to 3, and I landed 8 fish, so it was not a bad late fall fishing day, but my last 5 fish were on nymphs under an indicator.  Do the math, and you will notice that my streamer plan netted only three fish.  I had plenty of bumps on a big olive bugger, but only three committed.  I tried smaller, a black bugger half the size, a smaller olive one, but got no love, so I put the one getting noticed back on the leader and gave it a go for as long as I could.  My first three fish were little browns, one perhaps even a wild one.  Another one pictured here that I landed on an SJ worm was also not marked like a typical stockie, but one or all could have been part of the fingerling stockings too.  They were all roughly the same size too, which is no help.

Had to use the SJ worm to dig up the next three fish.

I did not see another soul out in these conditions, which was a huge upside and the only real indication that my plan was effective.  I had a feeling this would prove to be true, so I had packed two rods, my streamer rod and my nymphing rod.  I figured I could work downstream with the streamer, and if I did well, call it good.  Assuming I would have all the real estate I wanted, if the streamer was a total bust, I could walk back to the car to get the long rod and then nymph upstream from another parking lot.  While I had three fish and some action with the bugger, it was kind of a bust, but it was also raining pretty steadily, and I had already waded pretty aggressively downstream trying every little pocket and piece of structure, so I was feeling lazy by the time I clipped off the bugger for good.  The idea of wading aggressively again in order to tightline nymph this larger creek got less attractive the wetter and colder I got.  Instead, I paused under a bridge and rigged up a tapered leader and some small bugs to drop-shot under an indicator.

I caught two at the end on an actual fly, I promise.

Well, that did not last long.  No hits and I lost both bugs in a spot too deep to retrieve them.  When I rigged up again, I went in the opposite direction.  This time I decided to drop-shot a big San Juan worm and target the deeper soft spots close to fast runs and structure.  That worked out well, and I landed three more fish, including the brown I mentioned and a couple rainbows that were a bit bigger than the browns.  Fish were in soft spots behind boulders and large rocks, and those places collect sticks for a living, so I eventually lost the worm too.  For the last deep hole near the parking spot, I tied on a size 10 soft hackle pheasant tail jig to get down really deep.  That big bug landed two more rainbows before I decided to quit for the afternoon.  It would have been nice to stick a dozen on the streamer, but the water is cold in mid-December, of course, so I will take 8 fish any way I can get them.  I especially enjoyed the rare moment of solitude on the popular Tully.

Numbers 7 and 8 were better bows that took the size 10 anchor fly.

December 10 and 11, 2019 – Swapped the Dry Top for Raingear – SEPA and Ocean County, NJ

A walk, and slide, with fishing rod.

Although it was raining, it was nearly 60 degrees on Tuesday, so I had to get out somewhere, even for a short while.  I had the bright idea of tossing a streamer in the Pennypack to see if I could move any fall stockies; that is, if there are (m)any fall stockies in this particular stretch….  The boy and I took a skunk in this same area in October, though we did see a handful on stringers, but today I hunted around looking for them and had one bump on a small black bugger.  That was it.  Well, I also slipped on some mud on the seriously saturated banks and tweaked an ankle and my knee.  Good times!  I will not be back this year, especially since a few other spots near home get a more thorough distribution of fish.  I was hoping to locate the trout so that I could go back and midge them up when the water was not so high and stained, or even take the boy over to the same park for redemption, but perhaps the water was too cold or many of the fish were harvested, or there was not enough help stocking this fall.  Like I stated above, see you in the spring, Penny, at least this particular PFBC-stocked stretch.

Novelty snow bass eating the weighted eel on the dropper.

Now for something completely different: I drove to the beach in a driving wet snow this morning to get at least one more shot at the schoolies eating sandeels.  With the possible exception of Thursday, which is not a day I can fish this week, the remainder of the week looks like a mess.  A big 4 to 7, followed by a 5 to 8 foot swell and high South winds will have the surf a mess, and probably not the good kind.  Today, the surf was the good kind of messy.  Today was striper weather: steady wet snow, wind from the NW at 20-25, plenty of whitewater, a nice 2 to 4 foot swell, even a sweep of current moving along the beach from north to south.  The bass got the memo too.  Though the best were barely 24 inches, there were no true dinks, all 18 to 24 inch fish in the slough and the front slope of the bar, ambushing sandeels.

White-out on the beach, tools of the trade, morning driving conditions on the final approach.

The drive down was not that fun and took a good 30 minutes longer than normal.  When I went out to warm up the ‘Ru before 4 AM and load in my gear, it was just misting.  But by the time I left, a heavy wet snow was falling and landing on the lawns.  I drove east into this visibility-sucking mess, watching the temps hover right at 33 to 34 degrees.  Yesterday was so warm that the roads were fine, but it was a hassle to drive in as the trucks woke up to begin their morning deliveries.  I swung a U-turn and pointed the car into the wind when I arrived at the beach-end street, so I could use the hatch as some protection as I geared up before the walk up the beach.  Hood of the raingear up and cinched, neoprene gloves, and I was as ready as I was going to be.  I was happy to see whitewater in the wash, and the tide was good too, but beyond a few dozen yards, I could not see much more.  As a result, I walked past my landmark on the dunes once, overshooting it by a block or two, but with all the white-out conditions, first light was going to be a little later, anyway, and it would be cloudy enough to keep the fish in close a bit longer if they did arrive.  I eventually found my spot, picking out a couple familiar cribs beyond the dunes.

Most on the dropper, but T-Hex scored 3 of 11 fish.

Well, they arrived sometime around 7:30 AM, a bit later, as I expected.  I had about an hour, maybe more, of steady action.  Because the surf was a little rough, I stayed on the sand and caught half my fish right in the slough and the surf lip.  A couple better ones, like 24 inches (so “better”) came at the end of the cast on the front end of the bar, so I needed some weight.  Even in close, with the current sweep from the swell—up to 4 or 5 feet on the primary wave, enough to get the surfers out as the tide ebbed further around 9 AM—I had to use a 2 ounce T-Hex to deliver a 1/5 ounce soft-plastic eel teaser on the dropper.  I landed three fish on the metal, even one on a 3 ounce T-Hex in the last half hour of productive fishing.  As the tide receded, the surf got snottier, even dirtier with grass and brown foam, likely from all the rain water washing in from the previous day(s) of precipitation, so in order to get down to the bottom and not just swing left to right too quickly, the 3 (and a half with the eel) ounces certainly helped contribute to my last two fish of the trip.

Some nice whitewater even in a NW blow.

Taking photos was a chore with snow hitting me at 25 MPH in the back, accumulating an inch on my plug bag, so I did not take many fish pictures.  I did not want to take my gloves off either, and when I did, it was a pain to get a dry enough finger to work a phone!  We know what short bass look like, anyway, perhaps all too well as surf fishermen in New Jersey the last several years.  I did text a shot of a bass in the snow to Dolf and Jeff, and at that time I had counted 9 fish and was hoping for 10 so that I could quit.  The snow started tapering off about 9 AM, but the tide was going out and it was getting incrementally brighter by the second.  With the aforementioned 3 ounce T-Hex, I was able to reach 10 and then 11 fish, and told myself I would quit at an even dozen.  I quit at 11 fish when that 12 became an increasingly elusive and silly goal.  Towards the end of the productive window, the water was getting dirtier, so I had more fish bump it and not connect, but when even the bumps stopped, I knew they had moved on for the morning.  I took their example and headed for the car around 9:30 AM.  The walk back was more comfortable with the NW wind pushing me along, and with no snow to contend with, I was able to watch the surfers and other enthusiasts come out of hiding to enjoy their morning activities.  A brisk walk was probably good for that knee I twisted on the Pennypack too, as it really did not stiffen up or hurt much today.  It will be ready to wade a trout stream on Friday, for sure.  Sadly, the surf may be too snotty.

A coating to an inch, on my shoulders and plug bag too.

December 8, 2019 – Someone Invited a Lot of Fine Shorties to Our Party – Ocean County Surf

Half of our party of hopefuls.

I had the unique pleasure of “guiding” a few mitches on the Ocean County surf this morning.  I have known Dolf for over two decades, and he and I used to fish the surf quite a bit back in the day, mostly with clam and chunks and a prayer, perhaps his fey blue Sperry rain jacket.  We also made music (more like musique concrete) together and even dated in different eras the same crush-worthy, yet decidedly troubled and troublesome, myopic bottle-blonde. Today, he brought along his brother in law, Jeff, who is a good dude and pretty obsessed with surf fishing.  I was supposed to get out with these boys a couple times last year to show them what little I remember from my days as a shoobie sharpie, but life happened or the weather turned north too quickly last year, I don’t recall.  Also joining us was Pete.  Though I don’t think we’ve ever knowingly met in person, we have known each other through fishing forums since he was a teenager.  He cut his teeth at the same lake where Ward and I first fished together as kids.  He loves to bust my balls on the blog, especially about my fly fishing in lieu of my past surf fishing glory days, but I could always tell he was a good dude, and he’s even shared intel with me over the years, so I invited him to tag along with us too.

Sunrise sandeel bite, a couple to 25 inches

Those who actually guide the surf, not those working for the camaraderie and a free breakfast, have a network of cellphone informants, or they offer plenty of caveats about the “experience” or the “education” trumping the catching.  Taking my cue, I promised a brisk predawn walk and a beautiful sunrise.  I was hopeful, however, that the spot where I found fish on Friday would be even more productive on the right tide.  Today, high tide was right at 5 AM give or take, so it was prime time when the sun peaked over the horizon.  Pete, who is a fishy young buck just a year or two out of college, landed at least 15 today, and he even landed two before sunrise.  I too added a dink to our predawn total.  I kept telling Dave and Jeff to wait for it… wait for it… and thank the fish gods it did happen.  Together, the four of us put at least 40 fish on the sand, ranging from 12 inchers to a couple 25’s, and there were a few dropped fish too.  Jeff and Dolf had neglected to remove, unbeknownst to them for the span of a couple missed fish, the plastic protective packing over the hooks of their recently acquired teasers!  That is a great prank for the future, as Jeff noted, taking it in stride, far better than having someone throw a hookless Ava because the fish stay on the teaser for a couple seconds with no hook penetration.  

The triple-double that Pete and I put together (one's just hanging out).

After I landed at least a couple over 20 inches, one pushing 24, I spent more time with Dave and Jeff, and I think Pete did some coaching too.  Jeff was into them pretty steady, landing at least 7, and he may have landed the biggest of the day, a good, fat 25.  Dolf got his game in gear too, landing a nice handful on a vintage Garcia Conolon that he took off my dad’s hands some time ago.  That was cool.  I actually landed two on that rod as well, so Joe was with us in spirit again!  I christened his new Tsunami Shield, as promised, and was pleased with it on my Ron Arra bomber rod.  At some point we had three rods mixed up trying to give Dolf a rig with some more distance potential.  In the end, he did better with his own.  We had a few doubles and triples, and even a triple-double pictured above.  Like me on Friday, Pete landed two at the same time, and I simultaneously hooked and landed one, so the shawties posed together on the sand.  We were having a blast while it lasted, and we never drew a crowd despite being less than obvious about our luck.  It was bright and sunny by 8 AM, and with no real swell, along with rather clear water, the fish were not going to hang around for very long. 

The man, the mitch, the legend.  Dolf on the board for five on the vintage rod.

For a good 45 minutes, though, we had fish breaking water in front of us, lip rats swiping at lures at our feet, just the right amount of mayhem.  I think I had more fun watching Dolf and Jeff get into them. And, as I said above, Pete was picking at them steady.  I am awesome at counting fish when by myself, but I am terrible when I am social fishing.  Same goes for taking photos.  Many of these shots are a result of a group effort.  I know I caught a few more than Jeff but not as many as Pete, so I will call it 9 or 10.  In short, we had a great morning for December.  Most of the fish took sandeel soft plastics, epoxy eels, T-Hex and Avas, and Dolf even got one on a bomber while trying to mix it up during a lull.  Eventually, the lulls lasted long enough for someone to call for breakfast.  After a shot of bourbon that Dolf magically pulled from of his neoprene-ed person, we took the brisk walk back to the parking spots and headed for a diner.  Everyone wants to do it again next weekend, so let’s hope the weather and water temps hold.  It looks promising so far, so maybe the band will get back together.  In the meantime, I may have to sneak down for the Tuesday high tide to celebrate finishing my final paper for Gothic Lit on Monday night….

You get a short, and you get a short, and you get a short, and I get a dink...

December 6, 2019 – Enter Sandeel – Ocean County Surf

Sunrise with a 1970's 'stache

I did not deserve to catch 10 short bass, including a double, this morning.  I have not put in any time this year, have not been out scouting, have not read or made reports.  The only thing I did right today was get to an Ocean County beach at the right time of the morning (well, earlier than the right time) and throw the right lures for this time of year and wear the right hat—one of my dad’s fishing hats that I rummaged, along with other clothes and gear, from his secret closets and his fishing shed this past weekend.  You see, before he passed, Joe was probably my only remaining surf fishing partner AND a renowned purchaser/seller of bargain-priced outdoor gear (more on a two-man SOT kayak this spring, I hope).  Ironically, as I write this I have a Sunday trip with my old friend and fishing buddy Dolf, and Joe and Dolf were Facebook buddies, of course, but for the last several years it has just been Joe rolling up to my house at 3 or 3:30 AM on a late fall morning.  I missed him this morning, but in the solitude of the beach at sunrise, I had no problem talking to him and giving him a shout out. He would have been psyched to see me land a rare double this morning.  A 24 incher took the deceiver I had on as a teaser, and an 18 incher took the T-Hex (fancy Ava jig) at the same time.  I thought I hooked the possibly rarer December keeper until I noticed my line going in two directions as the cousins struggled simultaneously to lose me and each other.

Doub Life: not entirely why I keep them so far apart, but a welcomed side-effect.

I also had a brand new Tsunami Shield 4500 on my Ron Arra 1083 waiting in the car if the fish were really prevalent and particularly dinky, or if I could get away with throwing light plugs and small metals.  This was another find in the old man’s fishing shed.  It was my recommendation for him to buy it for this fall’s fishing that now won’t happen, so I will definitely get it salty for him soon.  Because it was almost low tide at sunrise, I needed to haul off on 2 ounces of metal to reach the bar or over the bar, even standing waist deep in the surf.  Fish were almost all at the end of my casts, so I used my Ron Arra 1084 instead.  I think the time for my 10 foot Super Surf has passed this year, unfortunately!  With the purloined hat on and his gear mingling in the ‘Ru with mine, maybe I got a little help this morning?  I did see three shooting stars and the sun looked like it had a 70’s mustache (which Joe definitely had in the 70’s).  Then again, shooting stars and partially obscured sunrises are pretty common this time of year, but either way I was lucky to be out this morning.

Enter sandeel bite at sunrise

With calm seas knocked down by a NW wind overnight, the surf was too calm in the dark. Hard to see whitewater when there is none.  Having no spots, per se, I headed to a stretch of beach where a bar often gets cut at some point every fall, at least since the beach replenishments destroyed all my favorite hard structure in this area.  I threw a black Mag Minnow and a teaser for a couple hours without even a bump.  Not losing faith, as the false dawn began, I headed up the dunes to have a piss and dig for a T-Hex in my plug bag.  I would be comfortable, warm, and ready for the sandeel bite that I was convinced was going to happen when the sun got higher.  It took a while, but it did happen, and I had a steady pick for two hours before it petered out at 9 or 9:30 AM like clockwork.  I noticed on the drive into town that there was still standing water in some of the intersections, so that precip or higher tides and the blow all week might have explained why the water was a little stained, not dirty with debris, but a bit off-color.  Once it got bright out, however, fish took the green tube of the T-Hex and the white over chartreuse deceiver with some fervor.  I even landed one and dropped another on a clown Mag Minnow, an orange suspender that is one of my favorites for these small fish.  They were not having any trouble finding brighter colors, so I never again popped back on the black plug or a darker teaser.  Maybe a needle fish would have accomplished the distance needed too, but I was happy with the action I had, and I only had to rinse off three lures and a teaser at home.  I landed the vast majority of fish I hooked, only dropping two little fish, and only getting a couple bumps that did not connect.  A few fished choked the teaser, so I even bled a couple times from the knuckles while digging it out without pliers or gloves, which is a sure sign of a good morning on the surf. There was now blood in the water, you know?

Mag Minnow too, just to mix it up in closer.

I only talked two other fishermen and watched maybe two other buggies move around in the dark, so even on a Friday many must feel that the fat lady is singing.  Bait is hard to come by, especially fresh bait, and hunting season is on, so I understand.  I do intend to get out at least a couple more times, however.  As I mentioned above, I want to give Joe’s Tsunami Shield a work out on my lighter plugging rod, and I have Sunday slotted to meet Dolf somewhere on the sand.  Gannets were still diving in the distance, and there were rumors of peanut bunker to the north of me.  At false dawn, I even saw Atlantic herring or perhaps shad flopping in front of me for a few minutes, so if fish remain around there is bait for them to target in the surf zone.  Two of the bass I landed were covered with active sea lice, so I assume these shorts and schoolies are still the tail-end of the fall run not resident fish.  Historically, it ends with the uber-dinks, but December blitzes are not all that uncommon, so it may take a thorough skunking (or just tired arms) to send me back after the post-spawn trout.

Pretty flat, but good conditions to wade out waist-deep and be one with the fishes and loons.

So, in the end, maybe I did not deserve a successful morning on the beach, but I will take good fortune and help from cosmic mustaches any day.  The prospect of sending two ounces of shiny metal and a fly, just two hooks, into the vast Atlantic Ocean and feeling that alien bump and angry thumping of a bass on my line seems, short arrogance and blind faith, continually, eternally improbable.  And yet, there they are on the sand, all fat brilliant white bellies full of eels and who knows what else, eager to get back to eating and migrating.  A few quick photos, a point to the old man out there somewhere, and I send them back, grateful and somehow still amazed each and every time.