Striper fishing picking up
I’ve always wondered: Is it the one that got away or the quality fish you land that sticks in your craw? For me it’s a toss up. Both occupy equal space inmy brain.
On a trip this past week it was the former. The angler’s surface popper dropped a foot in front of the marsh bank, emitting rings like Saturn’s. Twitch, twitch, twitch…pause….twitch, twitch BAM!
Water sprayed in all directions and instinctively the over-eager angler yanked the faux menhaden from the predator’s mouth. It was a whiff struggling Orioles slugger Chris Davis would be proud of. As the lure whizzed pastme I executed a clumsy verónica sans the vocalized “Olé!” as I crashed into the far gunwale. Fish 1; Angler 0.
We drifted around the marshy point where more excitement, or disappointment, lurked, depending on if you’re a “glass half full, half empty” type person. The angler’s companion came tight to a nice fish — red hued with spotted tail or a seven-striper I’ll never know.
That fish fought hard for 15 seconds, took somedrag, and then poof! Therod lost its energy. The lure was gone, as was the fish. I expected to see a squiggly pig’s tail, the telltale sign of a hastily tied knot. But in fact the leader was severed, the handy work of the fish’s gill plate.
A pesky northwest wind prevented us from executing my original game-plan, so in accordance with one of the major tenets of fishing, you make do. Plan B turned into PlanC, and then eventually PlanD. Later in the day, finding breaking rockfish wasn’t an issue; in fact it was downright easy. You can only snack on appetizers so long, however, before you crave the main course.
Finding a school of quality stripers, with perhaps some bluefish mixed in, proved much more challenging.
On our search, we encountered a massive, bloated, and headless whitetail dear floating past. Itwas like an eerie scene out of a Coen brothersmovie. The work of some soul-less poacher, perhaps? I couldn’t help thinking it could also be a harbinger portending of more unpleasantness to come in what has already been a horror of a year. The restless mind wanders.
We moved from school to school of peanut bunker in search of dinner-sized rockfish, but the only takers were small, some even tiny. It was a far cry from the quality footballs Eastern Bay gave up in these very same spots just last year. But that’s fishing. Things change, and if you don’t like the rules don’t play the game.
Striper fishing should be game on over the next several weeks. Early to mid fall is prime-time to toss top-water plugs along the shoreline and chase breaking schools of rockfish, from shallows of Thomas and Hackett’s bars to Eastern Neck and Poplar islands.
Trollers and light tackle jiggers should continue to do well up and down the Chesapeake Bay at spots like Seven- and Nine-foot Knoll to Dolly’s lumps andWild Grounds. We should also encounter the last of the bluefish, which have a penchant for nipping off tails of soft plastics meant for rockfish. I wonder — do they spit them out or gulp them down in their maniacal avarice?
This past month, anglers have caught a good number of puppy drum up the bay, and not just in the Severn andMagothy but even in Patapsco River as well. The stellar summer run of bull reds and cobia that entertained anglers in the lower bay is winding down. I’ve been surprised to hear about notable numbers of small sea bass caught in Maryland’s part of the Chesa
peake, too. Crabbers are steady dipping; for my money crabs are not only fat and succulent but in good numbers.
The fins on Norfolk spot are taking on a golden hue not unlike an oak tree. This year’s run has been as good as it’s been in many years. I posit it’s becausecommercial netters could not target these tasty drums as intensively as they have in seasons past due to the pandemic, which made bountiful catches for anglersmore common.
Above the water’s surface I’ve noticed more Canada geese around, most likely birds that live in southern New York and make the relatively short jaunt to feed in the corn and soybean fields of the Eastern
Shore, but that’s just a guess. Also right on time as autumn sets in are more sightings of green- and blue-wing teal and wood ducks, heralding in another waterfowl season.
No doubt much of 2020 has been a nightmare, yet there are silver linings, including upticks in fishing and outdoor participation as well as major wins for conservation, some of which could have positive impacts for decades. We have a real opportunity to mentor more people to become stewards of outdoor traditions.
Threats loom, however. Case in point: the recently released secret recordings in which Pebble Mine project executives admit they lied on official permit applications and planned for larger scale operations. This is egregious, but sadly not surprising, and underscores the larger point that dirty tactics —and outright greed — still interfere with our right to a healthier, more sustainableworld.
The good and the bad should be rallying points to inspire the outdoors and conservation community to band together to remain ever vigilant against any efforts to debase our public natural resources while celebrating the wilderness we still have left. In the meantime, stay healthy by going fishing and spending time outdoors. It’s a perfect time to enjoy the Chesapeake in all its autumnal glory.
Oct. 1-31: Rocktober Cup Derby. Details at ccamd.org.
■ Oct. 19-22: Atlantic States Marine Fisheries Commission’s Annual Meeting. Webinar available at http://www.asmfc.org/ home/2020-annual-meeting-webinar.
■ Nov. 7: 14th annual Fish For A Cure Tournament. Register fishforacure.org.
■ Dec. 1-Feb. 28, 2021: Pickerel Championship. Details at ccamd.org.
■ Dec. 5: 2nd Annual SchumannMemorial“Winter Classic.” Details at ccamd.org.