... at Watch Hill Friday night through Saturday morning.
I saw more dried out stiff striper carcasses leaving the Lighthouse than I have seen in a long time. Keepers were abundant and many, many guys took advantage of the two fish limit.
Seemed a shame to me, but judging by the enthusiasm and photo snapping, alot of these younger guys probably never had a night like that before. When I heard them bragging on their "Big" fish, I was tempted to point out that 30 - 34 inch stripers really aren't that big [guess I've got a mean streak]. I let them relish their glory instead.
It did rankle me a bit when I got back to my car and some guy said "You're the first guy to come back empty handed!" After rejecting the first reply that came to mind, I simply pointed out that I was the only one smart enough to spare myself that long climb carrying heavy dead fish [been there, done that. I'm too old for that]
On the brighter side, I did manage to be the only one landing a few of those keepers on flies. It was tough work though. There was no casting flies into the east wind. Luckily, or not so lucky, a huge school of bass had a bizzilion peanuts cornered in the cove on the lee side. Problem was, there was so much bait, it was highly frustrating trying to interest the fish in artificials. I managed a few by blind persistence, but it was nerve wracking! Just for the fun of it, I waded right into the middle of the blitz after dark. I waded through a solid sea of bunker. Spraying bait constantly landed in my stripping basket. Good sized bass bumped into my legs several times [THAT was un-nerving after having seen that video clip from Shark Week where the guy get his calf removed by a hungry shark!]
Despite the awe inspiring feeding behavoir, it was very very hard to get a hit. The plug guys stopped, made a few casts and when they got no hook ups, they just headed out to the wind and wave tossed point where the whitewater made the bass easier to hook [but not for fly guys]. I stayed with the school for a couple of hours. I mostly had them to myself. Well, I didn't exactly HAVE them, more like I hung out with them while they gorged and ignored my flies. Still, it was fun to watch.
PS Don't tell anyone, but, I eventually went back for the plugging rod and headed for the whitewater. Lets just say it wasn't lack of keepers that caused me to leave empty handed.
I saw more dried out stiff striper carcasses leaving the Lighthouse than I have seen in a long time. Keepers were abundant and many, many guys took advantage of the two fish limit.
Seemed a shame to me, but judging by the enthusiasm and photo snapping, alot of these younger guys probably never had a night like that before. When I heard them bragging on their "Big" fish, I was tempted to point out that 30 - 34 inch stripers really aren't that big [guess I've got a mean streak]. I let them relish their glory instead.
It did rankle me a bit when I got back to my car and some guy said "You're the first guy to come back empty handed!" After rejecting the first reply that came to mind, I simply pointed out that I was the only one smart enough to spare myself that long climb carrying heavy dead fish [been there, done that. I'm too old for that]
On the brighter side, I did manage to be the only one landing a few of those keepers on flies. It was tough work though. There was no casting flies into the east wind. Luckily, or not so lucky, a huge school of bass had a bizzilion peanuts cornered in the cove on the lee side. Problem was, there was so much bait, it was highly frustrating trying to interest the fish in artificials. I managed a few by blind persistence, but it was nerve wracking! Just for the fun of it, I waded right into the middle of the blitz after dark. I waded through a solid sea of bunker. Spraying bait constantly landed in my stripping basket. Good sized bass bumped into my legs several times [THAT was un-nerving after having seen that video clip from Shark Week where the guy get his calf removed by a hungry shark!]
Despite the awe inspiring feeding behavoir, it was very very hard to get a hit. The plug guys stopped, made a few casts and when they got no hook ups, they just headed out to the wind and wave tossed point where the whitewater made the bass easier to hook [but not for fly guys]. I stayed with the school for a couple of hours. I mostly had them to myself. Well, I didn't exactly HAVE them, more like I hung out with them while they gorged and ignored my flies. Still, it was fun to watch.
PS Don't tell anyone, but, I eventually went back for the plugging rod and headed for the whitewater. Lets just say it wasn't lack of keepers that caused me to leave empty handed.