...at Watch Hill.
Saturday evening I returned to the scene of last week's action. As soon as I started walking down the access road, I could see big pods of bait from the top of the hill. As I walked down, a guy leaving told me there fish everywhere. Oh, this is gonna be good!
When I reached the bottom of the hill, I ran in to my friend Big John the Silent Lurker. We stood and chatted while I kept one eye on the bait pod. When the only other fisherman nearby hooked up, we joined the fun. Right off the bat I hooked a schoolie on my flyrod, just to prove it could be done. Then I switched to the plugin rod to get the extra distance. What followed was at least an hour of fairly steady pick of good sized bass averaging in the high 20 to low 30 inch range. I did land one that went 36 or better but released it without measuring. There were only 3 of us in the area which was nice because the point was packed. They must have been doing good there as well since nobody wandered over to get in our action.
After dark, John said he was leaving so I walked back with him. I was having trouble with my plugin reel and wanted to take it apart anyway. Well, we got to talking and I forgot to fix my reel. When I got back to the water the reel had gone totally belly up.
No problem since it was one of those rare nights when the wind was calm, the surf reasonable and good sized bass were feeding in close. In short a rare night when Watch Hill Light was ideal for flycasting.
Or so I thought! I didn't take into account one thing - the bass were too big! I was fishing at the base of the steep rock breakwater and landing fish was dicey with good sized swells rolling over me when I went down to grab a fish. You had to be able to really haul the fish up into a convienent spot to grab it without being crushed. Problem was, the fish were all 30 inches and up and my 9 weight wasn't up to the task of winching them over the rocks.
I hooked several good fish and landed about four in the 30 - 34 inch range. Then I hooked a really good one. I'm standing high up on this big slippery rock with six foot swells crashing over my feet in the pitch dark and I have just felt my backing knot go through the eyelets:whoa: This is gonna be interesting!
I played tug o' war with this fish for several minutes and finally got it more or less under control. Now I have to figure out how to land it. To be honest, I really wish somebody else was there to see my antics for the next few minutes. I won't even bother trying to describe it. Suffice it to say I was soaking wet, bruised and battered in short order. I've seen the fish in my flashlight beam and I estimated it at about 40 inches. Finally, with the fish totally spent and me close to it [being spent I mean], the leader has snagged out of my reach, close to the head of the fish. Try as I might I can't free it with out getting pummeled. The fish is pretty much dead weight. At last a particularly big wave rolls in and the backwash pulls the fish and snaps the leader.
I wasn't even bummed, just relieved it was over. I did feel bad for the fish. I hoped he revived.
By now I'm soaked head to toe, scraped bloody, black and blue and exhausted. I know there are still fish out there but I can't bare to go through that again. So I walked away!
I got in my car, drove over to Weekapoug where I planned to grab a few hours rest and promptly crashed till after 7:00 AM. Never saw a fish the rest of the day.
Saturday evening I returned to the scene of last week's action. As soon as I started walking down the access road, I could see big pods of bait from the top of the hill. As I walked down, a guy leaving told me there fish everywhere. Oh, this is gonna be good!
When I reached the bottom of the hill, I ran in to my friend Big John the Silent Lurker. We stood and chatted while I kept one eye on the bait pod. When the only other fisherman nearby hooked up, we joined the fun. Right off the bat I hooked a schoolie on my flyrod, just to prove it could be done. Then I switched to the plugin rod to get the extra distance. What followed was at least an hour of fairly steady pick of good sized bass averaging in the high 20 to low 30 inch range. I did land one that went 36 or better but released it without measuring. There were only 3 of us in the area which was nice because the point was packed. They must have been doing good there as well since nobody wandered over to get in our action.
After dark, John said he was leaving so I walked back with him. I was having trouble with my plugin reel and wanted to take it apart anyway. Well, we got to talking and I forgot to fix my reel. When I got back to the water the reel had gone totally belly up.
No problem since it was one of those rare nights when the wind was calm, the surf reasonable and good sized bass were feeding in close. In short a rare night when Watch Hill Light was ideal for flycasting.
Or so I thought! I didn't take into account one thing - the bass were too big! I was fishing at the base of the steep rock breakwater and landing fish was dicey with good sized swells rolling over me when I went down to grab a fish. You had to be able to really haul the fish up into a convienent spot to grab it without being crushed. Problem was, the fish were all 30 inches and up and my 9 weight wasn't up to the task of winching them over the rocks.
I hooked several good fish and landed about four in the 30 - 34 inch range. Then I hooked a really good one. I'm standing high up on this big slippery rock with six foot swells crashing over my feet in the pitch dark and I have just felt my backing knot go through the eyelets:whoa: This is gonna be interesting!
I played tug o' war with this fish for several minutes and finally got it more or less under control. Now I have to figure out how to land it. To be honest, I really wish somebody else was there to see my antics for the next few minutes. I won't even bother trying to describe it. Suffice it to say I was soaking wet, bruised and battered in short order. I've seen the fish in my flashlight beam and I estimated it at about 40 inches. Finally, with the fish totally spent and me close to it [being spent I mean], the leader has snagged out of my reach, close to the head of the fish. Try as I might I can't free it with out getting pummeled. The fish is pretty much dead weight. At last a particularly big wave rolls in and the backwash pulls the fish and snaps the leader.
I wasn't even bummed, just relieved it was over. I did feel bad for the fish. I hoped he revived.
By now I'm soaked head to toe, scraped bloody, black and blue and exhausted. I know there are still fish out there but I can't bare to go through that again. So I walked away!
I got in my car, drove over to Weekapoug where I planned to grab a few hours rest and promptly crashed till after 7:00 AM. Never saw a fish the rest of the day.