December 31, 2023 – One Last Trip for the Year/Small Stream Sneaking in Good Flows – Berks County

Some pretty fish to end the year.

Well, it was not my most prolific year, but I was starting to figure out how to fish with a new job by this fall, so I think next year will be far better.  I get generous PTO and can flex the days I work from home, but I have not had to worry about scheduling time off in order to fish in close to 7 years!  I will get better at that too.  I can already see that I need to put some days in for prime times in 2024, like that November striped bass run and caddis time in May.  All said, however, I cannot complain about getting out for 65 days this year!  I know some guys would die to have that kind of time on the water.  As I may have mentioned, I embraced the weekends more and still had success—it also provided a new variable to figure with stream selection.  I fished some new streams and even attended a warmwater fishing meet-up this year with the PAFF crew.  Speaking of which, I was the lucky winner of a drawing on PAFF for the latest George Daniel book, a new Fulling Mill box to add to my collection, and George is going to mail me a dozen flies too!  It is unclear if these are just going to be some of George’s signature nymphs from Fulling Mill or from his own vice, but either way they will get used—I am talking to you GD’s Chewy Caddis….

A little freestoner in winter, even black stoneflies...

Trip 65 of 2023 was a thoroughly enjoyable one.  I arrived at first light on this small limestone influenced freestoner.  I wanted to make sure I was the first car in the parking lot because the Plan B and C when I go to this creek and find other fishermen are B: another short stretch that is only a couple hours of fishing on a good day, or C: a good 20-minute ride further west to a stocked crick that has some wild fish that I mess with post-spawn many winters.  There were some fishermen out after me, but I was the first to work through both Plan A and Plan B today, so I was charmed or rewarded for my pre-dawn winter drive or both.  I did not find any fish over 10 or 11 inches, but I caught a bunch of them, like 20 or more in under 4 hours of fishing, hiking, and the short commute to the second stretch after I had exhausted the first.  They were chewing too, not stuck to the bottom.  I started out in the low light, aided by the persisting cloud cover, tossing a small jigged sculpin on 6X and the mono rig.  I caught a bunch of short fish and a few YOY but could not raise a larger trout out of a known wintering hole.  It was just really deep and really cold down there today, I suppose.  I even drop-shotted, refusing to believe no one was down there.  Surprisingly, it was at the tailout of this deep hole where I noticed small black stoneflies crawling on the rocks.

Pocket water and small bugs at the first stretch.

Stones don’t emerge, they crawl out, so it does not always mean rising fish or even fish getting excited about nymphs that lose their grip and start tumbling in the current.  I also don’t typically encounter them until near the end of January, but that is another story.  Seeing them did prompt me to tie on small black and olive bugs to match the hatch and up my chances once the bugger window started closing.  That was a good move on this first stretch, and I caught probably 6 more trout on what I can only call a bomb black zebra midge that was the size of the adult stoneflies.  An olive perdigon got a little love too, I believe.  There is another honey hole at the end of this stretch, and it is not posted, but it is one of those right in someone’s backyard.  A couple of the houses were busy with kids and visitors, so I did the cordial thing and decided to save this honey hole for another day, probably a weekday now that all the vegetation is gone.  Instead, I chose to take a ride to the other stretch I had in mind as my Plan B.  I can often fish them both in one day, but it was a Sunday and a holiday, so I was not expecting much just in case.  Luckily, I was the first visitor to this stretch today, too, and it was well worth the stop.

A few "better" fish at the second stretch and on a big bug.

I not only got another hour of fishing in, but I also had a really productive hour and, finally, a majority of the fish were adults in the 8-to-11-inch range.  It is more limestoney and spring creeky in this stretch, so I fished a single buggy hare’s ear that could double as a scud—or just a juicy meal not to be missed.  Go big or go small in the winter is a motto I live by.  Small worked, but big had worked too, and there was deeper water in this stretch, so a bug that would get down but fall slowly seemed like the right call.  The wild browns responded well.  I even missed two that hit shortly after the bug landed, so they were off the bottom here too.  I got 5 or 6 that were stacked up behind a deep drop off and near an undercut bank.  I even had one chase my premature lift and recast, so I may have found more willing fish here if I had chosen to rest the spot and come back.  I was content as it was, so I never did come back.  Anyway, another dude was working his way up there after I had reached the end of this stretch and was walking back to the ‘Ru. 

Now Rosenbauer approved?

A little before noon I decided Plan C could wait for 2024, especially since this last creek in the region on my list this morning has been more affected by storm damage than most creeks.  As a result, wild fish populations have been disappointing this past year or two.  My right leg felt awfully wet too!  Mitches were hating on my leak solution a few years ago, and now it’s Tom Rosenbauer approved, so probably all the rage!  Here’s hoping you and yours have a healthy and happy new year.  Thank you for reading and commenting.  Honestly, for the last two years, and especially in light of my career change this year, I have considered sunsetting this format.  I do get something personally out of taking the time to record my trips, and that is why this all started anyway—sort of a more public fishing journal to track my own reentry into fly fishing after a long hiatus.  I am still on the fence about how to continue to post and to avoid the ‘gram as a lazier way to stay connected to fishing buddies.  We shall see.  Change can be good.  On that note, and continuing to evolve, I put together a new 9’ 9 weight outfit that will definitely ride along in Jeff’s beach buggy this spring.  And I plan to do more dry fly and warmwater fishing this year, having come out the end of several years of “mastering” the nymphing game and then the mono rig.  I hear that change can be good.  I hope George's book does not suck me back in?

Last bonus shots of 2023.

December 28, 2023 – I Didn’t Let a LOT of Water Completely Spoil My Plans – Two or Three Central PA Spring Creeks

A real looker who needs to recover from a rough rutting season.

I feel like I have been waiting for the larger creeks in the state to come down for weeks now.  With three large rain events in a row, I guess I am not exaggerating either.  I had off some days this week and had already fished some smaller cricks this month that can be productive in winter, so I was hoping that this latest coastal storm would stay coastal.  I was planning to head west and catch a break since flows had been good but still fishable.  Not a chance.  In fact, this last storm seemed to send bands of showers for close to 40 hours straight.  I was even going to meet Sam today if possible, but warm weather in the winter makes him popular, so I knew yesterday that he could not fun fish if dudes were willing to pay him for his company.  Heck, he may have even guided where I fished to end the afternoon—and that might explain why it was such a challenge.  Not that all three creeks I fished today were not challenging. 

Only my second visit to this beauty spring crick.

I don’t find high water in winter to be the feed-inducing events they are at other times of the year.  My five fish all day is either a testament to that or a testament to my pigheaded decision to stick with the plan and figure it out today against the odds.  Worms are probably dug deep to avoid saturated or frozen soil, terrestrials are hibernating and not getting washed into the water, YOY are eggs right now, and midges are hard to pick out in a cloud of debris.  I did not fish an egg, but I should have.  I just have a thing against eggs, I guess.  A dead drifted bugger will often due, but the stars have to align.  I did swing one of Eric’s streamers in a muddy, medium sized limestoner for 45 minutes, hoping for a grab, but that only netted two average wild browns and a few half-hearted bumps.  A brook trout ate another of Eric’s small marabou concoctions later in the afternoon at my third crick and probably fifth stop of the long day.

Hoping for more and larger, of course

I did manage to land a beautiful small stream fish of about 14 inches or more on actual bugs at my first stop of the morning.  This creek is a true spring creek—my first of two real spring creeks of the day—so it was rather clear even though it was pushing a ton of water.  Unfortunately, there is just not enough real estate to make a day out of it.  A couple honey holes sit right in backyards and, while not posted, I have always felt odd back there when folks are home (like now during the holidays, you know?).  Because it is winter, I may have spent an hour in one deep bridge hole, and no one needs to see that as they eat their pancakes.  I took a drive to try and pick up another hour of fishable water, but after a couple farms, the creek seems to fizzle as far as fishy looking water, even if I was willing to bushwhack through the scrublands.  I did fish a short stretch with deep water again but with no new results.  That prompted me to see if the creek this one feeds was getting any clearer.  It was lower than when I first looked at it first thing in the morning, but it was still mighty dirty.

B/W kind of day.  

Nevertheless, I decided to test whether or not I could have a streamer day this particular late-December day.  I took a walk to some deeper holes, but the ground was so saturated and the banks so steep that staying in the water felt iffy.  Waist-deep muddy water in December is not all that inviting.  I backtracked instead and fished some pocket water that I knew rather well, having fished it at least once or twice before in the recent past.  I knew the depth was pretty uniform and that I could wade downstream and swing a streamer without taking a cold, muddy swim.  I also knew that, at least in spring and early summer, it held some nice fish.  I did catch a couple average browns smacking the streamer down close to the bank and letting it swing.  I was pretty confident after catching those two fish that something larger might grab the big bugger, but by the time I reached the end of the riffles, I had only two more bumps that felt like little nippers.  A dude tossing a spinner was at the end of the line, so I decided to take a half hour drive further west while the short winter day was still young-ish.

Another ride, another county, another spring creek.

If I were going to meet Sam in Centre County, this next creek I had in mind would have been on the short list.  In fact, he had fished it on Tuesday this week, I believe.  Spring Creek itself still looked dirty if not blown out—I picked a great day for a three hour ride, yeah?—or I might have added a fourth creek to my list today.  The ride through the mountains above Happy Valley was something to see with the weird weather and clouds.  Rain was falling at the tops of all the slopes even if it was not hitting the ground, so I enjoyed the views even if nothing else came of this extra effort.  When I arrived at my destination, I was pleased that this smaller spring creek had some visibility.  However, below the large springs where I had intended to start fishing, it was cranking water from weeks of wet weather.  I tried fishing the edges of current and one deeper hole before taking a ride upstream to end my afternoon.  I had not fished this particular section in years, but it looked pretty much the same and intact.  There was probably more color up here from runoff, ironically enough, but the flows looked as fishable as the first creek I had fished this morning, so I was somewhat encouraged by what I saw. 

Yeah, a brook trout...

I did not think scuds or larva would show up too well in the colored-up water, so I went with smaller dark bugs for a while before noticing that it was nearing 3:30 PM.  Potentially having only an hour left of fishing, I tied on a marabou bugger that Eric had handed me the last time we were out.  Maybe black would do it on a cloudy, drizzly day.  Well, the only hit I got while fishing some really nice-looking spots, spots I remembered catching fish—or more likely watching Sam catch fish—was a skinny brook trout of about 10 inches.  This creek is not stocked, but it runs through towns and backyards, so I never say never.  I am not aware that the creek supports brookies.  Besides, if pressed I would have said stocker based on other evidence.  He was shaped like a wild winter fish and was pretty small to be stocked this spring.  Either way, this was the only fish I landed in a Class A wild brown trout stream before deciding to save some daylight to prep for my long ride home.   Had I driven an hour in the winter and caught 5 fish, including a small stream prize of a wild brown, I would have said, “Okay, an average winter day on the water.”  I tried to keep that perspective as I drove home in more rain showers.  I fished all of these creeks in a different season for the first time, so that is a good experience to have when learning a creek.  I still have a ton of big stoneflies just dying to hang up on the bottom of some big winter streams, but it will be another week or more before this latest deluge washes out.  I’d prefer snow next time, yo.

Some bonus shots.

December 17, 2023 – Snuck One in Before the Next Flood – Northampton County

At least one adult trout in the mix.

I fished one of my former favorite creeks this morning before the Nor’easter arrived.  I still have a soft spot for this one, but the warp-speed development in the area makes it prone to flooding and flood damage, as the photos probably show.  The irony is that its profile has risen as fishing has diminished, and access is harder in some spots and easier in others, with more public land open in the last several years and concurrently more posting.  I like it because it reminds me of a baby Brodhead, but it is also not a true freestoner because there is some mitigating limestone influence due to its location in limestone-rich Northampton County.  Oh, and it has beautiful wild brown trout even though the Commish and others still want to stock it—I guess the stocking does contribute to the access, so I can live with it.  By this time of the year, a rainbow is a rare thing, so they are not taking over, even in stretches of the creek that certainly feel like high-gradient rainbow water.  I fished the pockets and holes and found half a dozen fish this morning, even one about 12 inches that put on a bit of an aerial show even in the cold water.

Hanging on despite pressure from fisherman and nearby overdevelopment.

I started out tossing a bugger in the low light, and I found early success around a log jam that is now clogging an old favorite hole of mine.  At least there are still fish in there, and the log jam could be gone as soon as Monday morning with the approaching storm.  Downstream of here, an old TU project that stabilized the banks and created a nice hole is a total loss, filled with rolled rubble just like its aforementioned big sister creek to the north.  I thought the fish might have the meat feedbag on today, but I only caught two more small to average fish after the first one, so I took a ride upstream to another more popular stretch.  I saw a couple vehicles in the pull-offs and, with the leaves down, saw two or three other fishermen out, including a dude tossing a spinner, but no one was fishing where I ended my short drive.  I fished a small jigged bugger for a bit with no love, and since I saw a few midges aloft, I switched to a small perdigon and a heavier quill body bug on the anchor, both not more than size 18 to 20.

More pics of pretty wild browns.

I stuck the best fish of the morning with those small bugs under an indicator right at the transition of moving water and the slack of a deep hole.  It was a lovely fish that took a couple leaps for my benefit.  I missed one other short, sharp pop in the same general area, and I could not tightline another out of the head of this hole, so I moved down to two more deep plunges.  I stuck one more fish there and had one come off a heavy bugger that I put on trying to find one of those post-spawn piggies.  The bigger fish tend to like the bouncier stuff, even in the winter, and I was hoping to find another full-grown adult at least before the rain arrived.  Even though it was warm and cloudy, it seemed that the noon hour did its usual to dampen the action, so I called it good.  I barely got drizzled on, and I only met short periods of rain on the drive home.  Man, the Delaware was already up from the previous rain, so I can’t imagine what it will look like early this week.  I am off Monday, but it may be a last minute shopping day with the looks of the current forecast and flood predictions….

December 15, 2023 – Into the Woods Again (with a True Mitch) – SEPA Blueline

Breaking in the fancy new net.

With PA deer hunting on pause, Eric and I thought it would be a good day to venture into our little spot near his old hometown to reacquaint ourselves with the wild brown trout.  He has not fished in months with responsibilities at work and home.  What little free time he had this fall was devoted to bow hunting.  I did see a buck skinned and ready to be quartered in his shed this fall, and he does have a couple doe permits too, so this is really just a pause for him too.  We heard a few gun shots in the distance today and saw some fresh ground blinds and deer stands, but we did not have to wear the blaze orange.  That pop of color might have made us stand out even more in the bright sun and clear water conditions, and we needed all the help we could get.  The rain from Sunday had the ground saturated, I suppose, but the stain was long gone.  Flows were not as bad as they could have been for this time of year, however.  We knew it might be challenging once we set eyes on the little crick, but it was just good to get out with a mitch.  We both had the entire day to walk the woods, so we spent most of today’s daylight hours in pursuit of some skittish fish, arriving around 9:30 and leaving about 45 minutes before sunset.  Fish were caught, about half a dozen trout, including a really nice small stream fish all colored up and well fed, even post spawn.

A real beauty.

As we were suiting up, we decided to cover as much of the stretch to which we have access as possible.  We had not been here since early spring this year, so we wanted to assess as much water as possible for deadfalls, course redirections, and so forth.  It was about a year ago, actually on December 31, 2022, that we found our first real brood stock fish in the creek.  It was a gorgeous wild post-spawn male that was likely the papa of most of the creek’s small fish.  We marked another milestone today, although one that was as disappointing, perhaps, as the other was exciting.  I actually pulled flies out of a tree, our first sign that another angler had been back here.  I could not miss a three-fly rig wrapped around an easy to reach branch, so I don’t know how this fly fisher did not retrieve his own bugs unless he was without waders or blind or lazy.  It was definitely not something Eric or I would throw: a glow bug, a waltz, and another waltz for good measure, all tied off the hooks of each other (they must have been watching too much PA Woods n Water on the YouTube!).

Fishing was tough, but the outing was hardly a chore today.

Besides some springtime caddis, this creek is not all that fertile with bug life.  We saw midges and even a pod of three or four, a couple probably chubs, rising to midges in one hole, another single rise in a braided run late in the day, but we decided early on to forego small bugs in lieu of some Eric-tied jigged buggers.  I often choose to go with the big meal in the late fall and winter over matching the hatch, and meat is hard to beat some days.  It takes energy to feed in water whose temps are in the thirties, so I try to make the fish think it’s worth their while to make a move.  Not that they were chasing today: we caught the fish on a dead drift with maybe a flick of the wrist for some life for the most part.  I did catch one fish that popped the bug once and did not connect by swinging the bug in the same little pocket on the next cast, but it was more of a hang than a swing, just a stationery bugger letting the materials do the enticing work.

I did catch a couple.  Eric in situ.

Speaking of misses, I was hardly on my A game today!  It was likely a combo of two things.  One, I have not had the fly rod in my hand since October, so I started out rusty, I am sure.  Two, I forgot to bring food, so I was working on a couple small oranges and some watered-down juice.  Eric offered me an Uncrustable around 1 PM (I have been telling you he is a mitch!) and I stupidly declined.  I did take a single serving of trail mix about 3 PM, but it did not help me much, as I missed a fish at our last hole of the afternoon too.  I caught a couple trouts and at least a couple big old chubs and an uber fallfish, but I had missed a handful of chances by day’s end.  Thankfully, Eric was sharper today, and it allowed him to land a real small stream beauty at one of his favorite holes.  He caught a nice 10-inch fish first, and because he loves this spot, I said, “Go ahead and get another one,” instead of taking my turn.  We do this sometimes at a few holes that he or I have history with.  Today, that second fish I gave him the go-ahead on was a good mature adult hen.  The colors were beautiful, and I estimated her to be a plump 12-13 inches too.  He deserved it today, and I reacted the same way I would have had I caught this fish, had he caught the aforementioned piggy last winter.  He would have done the same.

Some B reel from a good day back in the woods.

December 8, 2023 – Gave It a Go on Quite Possibly the Final Striped Bass Tour of 2023 – Ocean County

A long day for a couple schoolies and blitzes out of reach, albeit barely....

Man, I spent the better part of 12 hours in beach towns in Ocean County, NJ today, and I have little to show for it except a carwash, nearly a full tank of cheap full-serve unleaded, a few new lures for next fall, sore muscles, an odd face suntan, and the gratitude of a couple surf proteges.  One of those guys actually caught a couple on my first shift this morning, at a spot I scouted with a lure I urged him to purchase.  Tony is a good fisherman and a quick study, so it is a pleasure to hang out with him.  Like Jeff, he is also overtly appreciative of the time I spend teaching him what little I know of the surf game.  Jeff remains a fun challenge, but he is reliable and also good company.  He was in the weeds more than me for the evening shift, but I’ll share more on that below.  Since this was likely my last hurrah for the fall run, which is winding down with smaller fish anyway, I gave it my best shot and fished both high tides.  I am not lying when I say I did not get a touch on any lure I threw.  I had a couple shots at birds or the fringes of bird play, to be more precise, but I did not get a hit in about 6 hours of fishing—and that’s not even counting all the time I killed in between the tides, the sunrise, the sunset, and the drive home.

Tony out there just before magic hour for sandeels.  "Magic" today.

I met Tony on a beach block at 5:45 AM to get a spot, I guess.  I have not had a hit pre-dawn in a few weeks, but I did toss around a blurple SP for a while before waiting for the sun to break the horizon or signs of life in the water.  That magic hour came and went with only Tony catching two schoolies nearly at our feet on a green mackerel SP minnow.  It was he who was the minor celebrity this morning.  I did not get a touch throwing the same lure using the same instructions I had given him a couple years ago, and we only saw one other shortie caught a half a block away!  Not a good sign for the day, but I was not ready to quit at 9 AM when Tony had to head for home.  Jeff was supposed to join us but had a job come up, so he was a little sad.  I decided that if he wanted to join me at 2 PM today and fish until dark, I would occupy myself on the barrier islands.  I even debated going down to LBI to scout and check in with an old, retired friend whom I have not seen since his wife passed a couple years ago.  Knowing it was a 50-minute ride to LBI and that I was not likely going to be able to fish next week with my work schedule even if I did scout a nice cut or something, I decided to kill some time where I was instead.

Images from an interlude.  My dad called everyone babes....

In the hours between 10 AM and 1 PM, I ate breakfast, drank a hot coffee, got a car wash and free vacuum token in Point Pleasant, had a quiet and a clean seat in a public restroom in Mantoloking Bridge Park, visited a dock of the Barnegat Bay, bought a few lures from Grumpy’s, read and replied to work emails, called my wife, checked in with both Dolf and my younger brother on some stuff that they had going on, and even took a walk on the boardwalk in Seaside Park while scouting some spots outside IBSP that I likely will not fish this year.  By 1:30 PM, I knew the tide was coming in pretty good and that there had been a short blitz at a spot I knew well around 3 PM the evening before, so I suited up again and made some casts in the warm sun awaiting Jeff.  He ran into traffic and then hit two tackle stores looking for a black SP Minnow before arriving about 3:30 PM.  I still had not had a touch.  Also, there was now a swell of 4 to 6 feet with a shore break and a building South wind.  The water remained clean, so I was hopeful I might get to touch at least a couple rats or schoolies this evening.  Jeff has lost a couple rigs over the past week or so, and he lost four in a row tonight.  He was thinking he had lost his mind and forgotten how to tie knots, but I remembered telling him the second time it happened with this particular rod a few weeks ago that he must have a cracked guide.  Not that I was totally with it tonight, either.  I actually tied a new teaser rig on for him like he was my little kid, and that rig went sailing before I reminded him that that this is the rod I told you might have a rough or cracked guide.  In a rush to leave the house, Jeff had no backup rod this evening.  Luckily, I had a brought along a light “bomber” rod in case the conditions were calm, and/or we had to be content with schoolies today (if only!).  

One last sunrise shot for 2023?

After a walk back to the ‘Ru to get the bomber rod, we were fishing again.  Jeff had my 9’ 1-4 oz Ron Arra stick, while I tossed my 9’ 1-3 oz, a Ron Arra that is really ½ to 2 oz despite that generous rating—not a great tool in the increasingly rough seas.  Not even that mitzvah let me score a fish, not even when a blitz developed right over the bar after sunset!  I was worried the whole time my rod and reel would get the patented Sandy Dunkin treatment.  It was touch and go there when I saw him reel my barrel swivel into the top guide twice before figuring it out—I wonder why his guides are cutting braid!??!  When Tony and I had low expectations for the morning bite, I said “Let us get two.”  Little did I know it would be him with two and me with zero.  I expected Jeff to catch something tonight and me nothing the way the day’s vibe was going, but he could not overcome his own bad mojo.  I figure this was a good way to end the fall run for me.  Weather is coming on Sunday, and my work week is crazy with events (I have to put on a suit twice!) so it may be back to post-spawn trouts by next Friday.  Never say never, though.  Dolf has been absent this fall and may work on me to join him on LBI, I am sure.  We shall see.  I did hang up the 10-footer today and also rinsed and oiled the big wood plugs for another winter.

December 1 and 2, 2023 – Still Batting .500 in the Surf and Making 60 Fishing Trips the Year I Started a New Career? - Ocean County

Half a dozen on Friday, not close to three dozen.

With the help of Tony the Squid on Friday morning and Sandy Dunkin on Saturday night, I fished the first two days of December in the surf and hit the 60 fishing trip mark for the year.  That is far from my best year.  I know I have doubled that tally even during the lifetime of this blog—a time when I have always been a grown-ass man with a family and a job or two, mind you.  The month is still young, though, and I would totally be content with 65 this year.  Starting a new career with a different cadence and fiscal calendar, not to mention not wanting to take too much PTO without having a full year under my belt, it will have to do.  I have started the process of moving away from being a total weekend warrior since I do work from home three days per week, but I was happy with the success I had on the weekends.  I could do without the crowds, and I had to work my brain to select spots that would give me some elbow room and solitude, but I also did more social fishing like I did over the last three days.  Look at me doing a premature year-end wrap up!

Tony made the trek today.

The ocean is never the same place twice with all the variables of wind, tide, moon phases and so on.  I did not expect to duplicate the success Jeff and I had on Thursday of this week, but I would have liked a few more fish on Friday, December 1.  Jeff was out, but Tony was able to fish with me.  We both had to quit before 10 AM to make some work obligations, so we were hoping the early bite was on.  Not today.  We could have had a pick through the high tide and the outgoing if we’d had the time, I am confident.  We did not have that time, unfortunately.  During the usual magic window of about 6:30 to 8 AM, I managed to catch two rats all of 18 inches.  And I was a minor celebrity in the line-up as a result if that gives you any indication of the difference a day makes!  It was good to see the small fish, and I treated them like the precious resource they are.  I even talked Jeff into handling his own rat with a careful and quick release on Saturday night.  “No pics of 15-inch fish, you mitch!” may have been uttered, and the mitch reluctantly complied.  Rats are part of the potentially dim future.  These are the salad days for many not aware of how dire the YOY counts have been since 2017.  A little knowledge does suck sometimes.

A little sparser line-up by 8 AM

I did end up catching four more fish that morning.  A couple of them were awfully close to slot keepers if they were not actual keepers.  The other two were in the 24-26 inch range.  All of them, even the rats, were at the end of very long casts, so a lot of work for half a dozen small bass, especially after catching 30 fish the day before on 54-year-old arms and shoulders.  Tony and I and about 12 of our closest beach friends had two shots at birds and bait, and I connected on both opportunities.  Tony dropped two fish early, and he could not reach the short blitzes, so he took a goose egg.  I offered to take a drive and prospect, but Tony had also been fortunate enough to have a blitz day in November, so he was content not to join the chase.  My Jersey-famous buddies from Thursday walked up for a while and did share some intel about further south, where they eventually headed.  Tony and I stayed put.  The gamble sort of paid off since we did not have to leave fish to find fish, even if the fish were way the hell out there over the bar.  The green SP minnow scored when the metal could not, but we both tried metal because of the potential distance.  I got one on the THex by heaving it out there and flipping the bail for an immediate retrieve.  One fish hit it on the steady retrieve.  I snagged some small rainbait or spearing, so it was not all sandeels today like it was on Thursday.  That prompted me to add a teaser, and I briefly had a double before a fish took the teaser.  You see, I am lazy and I probably used the same 50 lb. leader all last year and this one.  The dropper loop just split.  I told Pete to use a dropper on Saturday morning, and he lost a double probably for the same reason!  It's not like the fish were big enough to break 30 or 50 lb. leader material, fresh leader material, that is….

Clean water and a swell, but the winds had literally changed.

I could not do Saturday morning, and that made Jeff sad, so I agreed to fish the evening after I had taken care of things I needed to do today.  We were in a race to beat the wind shift and pre-storm swells, and we lost.  It went from W to S during our drives to the beach and then even went SE while we were there.  It was a night for the surfers not us.  Jeff managed the aforementioned dinker, and it was my turn for a goose egg.  I had one legit bump before dark, actually 10 seconds before Jeff landed his little fish, so it is possible a small pod of rats came over the bar for a brief encounter with the eels.  We both thought we saw shad or some larger baitfish, but it could have been the small boys.   It was dead after that.  We were on the same blocks where we caught fish the last two days, and I sent Pete here this morning, and he had a nice flurry of fish at first light.  You would think they would come back at sunset, and they sometimes do with the sandeels dug in, but not tonight.  It was a weirdly warm and foggy afternoon.  I should have trout fished!  I do miss the woods, and I will be returning to them very soon, I believe, even if it’s just for some fall stockies.

November 26 and 30, 2023 – Some Minor Frustration Followed by Some Out and Out Elation During the Fall Migration – Ocean County

Birds, sometimes just out of reach.

Buoyed by the prospect of NW winds on the morning of Sunday, November 26, Jeff and I met up at 5:45 AM on a street end in a beach town in Central, not Northern, New Jersey this time.  There was a bit of a swell that the NW wind had not yet knocked down after a couple days of strong South winds, which had dirted the water in addition to roughing it up.  It was not good.  We stayed put at a decent spot for first light, but we moved around when nothing was happening at 7:30 AM.  What little activity we saw during our travels was not in casting distance even with a 15 MPH NW wind.  Sometimes they were painfully close to being in range for me with a spoon!  We tried but suffered another skunk, unless you count two shad I landed on a teaser.  We did find a great rip and bar at low tide that I made a mental note to revisit at a better tide and with cleaner water.  That was the plan for November 30, and it proved to be a good one.

Jeff found a sunrise porker.

We were on the beach again on Thursday morning at 6 AM waiting for the sun and the bass.  They showed up big time.  I knew from some boots on the ground on Wednesday, including young Peter, that there was a bite in the area.  So did everyone else by Thursday, of course.  The beach looked like it was hosting a Saturday crowd.  Who am I to judge, as Jeff and I were both using each other as work appointments!  We both had a hard stops around 9 AM, and we stuck to the plan.  I was home and cleaned up for a Zoom meeting at 12 PM.  But in those three hours of fishing, we landed close to 50 bass.  I know I had just shy of 30 fish, and many, many were emergency slot keeper size, not the bonus slot keeper size, with at least four between us that were closer to 34 inches.  Jeff had a big fat boy just before sunrise, and I also had two over the slot early.  We left them biting too—eyes to the sand, don’t look back, you have to go to work.  It would have been harder to leave had we not torn them up for three hours.

More Jeff fish.

It appeared to be a sandeel bite because it was mostly what I call a no-show blitz.  Nothing showing besides a bass part if you were lucky enough to glimpse one, but the fish were there in waves and smaller packs.  A green SP minnow was definitely doing some work, but Jeff had success on the schoolbus.  After catching 20 fish on trebles, I started tossing the bunker spoon with a single siwash hook, and they ate that too.  The last three fish I caught when it was just a pick from the bars hit a classic yellow/orange Yozuri Mag Minnow that actually sinks and digs into the bar until it flies over deeper water in a slough or cut and gets clobbered.  It was a favorite bait the last time sandeels had dug in along the bars pre-2019.   

I found a few (dozen) too.

It was crowded, but we were lucky to have some good guys and good fishermen nearby.  Jeff and I were separated once the action got hot and heavy, as I have tunnel vision and get focused on the job at hand.  Between us we actually had two Jersey-famous celebs, I guess.  Mickey and Nick.  If you know who they are, you know who they are.  Let’s just say one was once a rock star from Bucks County, PA.  Tangles were kept to a minimum, like maybe two in three hours, and plenty of laughs and good times were had.  I am wired to seek out the bite away from the crowd, but that is impossible of late, so it is good to be in good company at least!  I have had some jamoke-fests, especially in MoCo, and I am not even talking about my good buddy Sandy Dunkin!  Jeff had at least 15 fish, maybe more, and probably wanted me closer to photograph all of them to send to his brother-in-law and my good friend, Dolf.  I told him I got the best one for him, and the rest all looked the same!  Call me crazy, but I may head down on Friday too.  Why not start December right, am I right?  Stay tuned, yo.

SP, Mag Minnow, THex bunker spoon, etc.  A lot of fish between us!

November 18 and 23, 2023 – More Surf Fishing and Blitz Missing – Monmouth County

Nature show, including rutting bucks and and feeding whales.

I made a couple recent surf trips, first with just Jeff on November 18, where we covered some sand and didn’t even get a touch in the dirty water we encountered post-two days of South wind.  It had turned NW by the time we hit the beach around 6 AM, but the damage had been done.  Whale watchers with telescopic lenses were seeing the boats out there on flopping bunker within eyesight of the beach, maybe a mile off, but we were only treated to a whale gorging himself on peanuts.  He must have scared the bass out of the surf zone as much as the grass and rainwater!  The other highlight was seeing a couple rut-crazy buck running the streets.  One old, big-bodied boy, whose chest could have supported a few more tines than he currently had on his head, was right on the beach block sidewalks at 10 AM.  He was probably chasing another smaller buck who snorted and hightailed it into the dunes as Jeff and I were getting sorted for the ride home.  Not great fishing, but quite the nature show!

The Boy with a butterball on Turkey Day morning.

On Turkey Day, the Boy and I planned to fish the early morning bite since we did not have to report to my mom’s house for dinner until 4 PM.  Jeff, who is always ready to fish, met us at 5:45 AM on the beach in central Monmouth County.  Things went a bit better today, with a brief, likely sandeel bite right at that magic hour of the morning.  Jeff stuck a couple shorts on a teaser while tossing a THex, and I stuck a fatty on a bone SP minnow.  The boy got the assist, since he was near enough for me to pass the rod to him to enjoy the brief battle.  I was hoping he could land his own during that window, but at least he got to see some action, which is not a given in the surf.  Young Pete had burned miles and time earlier in the week for nary a touch.  The blitzes are off the coast, so it seems like the only sure chance of success for now is that brief sandeels-on-the bar-for-two-hours thing.  I don’t mind that since I don’t love sharing the beach with 50 jamokes throwing shads and pencils at a blitz, but it is a long ride in the wee hours to catch three fish during a one-hour sandeel bite—not that I won’t be at it again in the next day or two.

Jeff with one of his two shorts, the release, some whitewater, no blitz.

The boy did get to experience the sunrise, a few fish, and even some whales working way too far off the coast.  With the wind and bright sun, the highlight of those sightings was just the plumes of mist on the horizon, but you can’t see any of this at home in bed, so I am glad he decided to join me.  We even got to witness some odd Mennonite courting ritual—couples walking two-by-two down the strand then gathering later on a jetty.  Luckily no one fell in walking over the wet rocks in handmade shoes and clothing!  We took a ride looking for birds before calling it quits, still hoping we could get The Boy on a bass.  His young eyes spotted a brief blitz we were able to intercept, but it looked like sandeels, and we only saw two short bass caught near us before the birds moved on and Jeff learned his left wader leg was full of water.  Sandy Dunkin always lives up to his nickname, but he would be there tomorrow at 3 AM if I asked him!  I may see his new waders on Sunday morning...

Beautiful morning, Mennonite love on the rocks?