Sometimes all you catch is a nice sunset..., By Alexi

     "A wet hook is better than a dry hook," I overheard Grumpy hisself say this to a customer.  I'm not sure I believe it.  Word on the street (or the internet) is that they're all gone.  That's right, I said it.   All of the fish are gone.  Since we're new to this game, we don't have a lot of personal data to go by.  Asking each and every old salt will garner the same answer, numbers are down, regulators are slow to respond or unresponsive.  It's our duty to self impose stricter limits.  But still, really no fish of any class size at all in three consecutive trips?  Even if it is partially due to a smaller YOY class, or the total decimation of the species in the great sand eel blitz of 2011, you'd think that there would still be SOME fish in the bays.  Well we sure couldn't find them, from Cape May county to Barnegat Bay, we couldn't even cach a damn cold!!

the boats were full of themselves with potential

into the sunset we launch

and confidence increases

After fishing the evening bite for a few hours we camped out by a tree.
In thew morning the water nearly washed away my kayak.

overcast, perfect, but not a bite...

Full of confidence in the morning, hot coffee and all...

Striper Revenge, Monday Nov 18th, by Alexi

     So after the debacle of the surf launch; the embarrassment of being laughed at by thousands of fish; the humbling experience of looking at the weigh in lists of tackle shops a mile long;  after all that and more, I decided to stick with a plan made over a week ago: to fish the a sedges on Monday evening with KGB.  DESPITE the forecast for approx. 15 mph winds we went ahead (between 6 and 8 p.m. the wind was actually more like 0 mph).  DESPITE the fact that the bite was obviously on sand-eels in the surf, we launched our kayaks in the bay!  Against all odds, and despite all of the whole damn internet telling us that if we want to catch fish we needed to do do something else.  I guess we (I) just really like fishing the bay with my kayak.  I also hate crowds, so that might be another reason I didn't want to fish out front.  So here it is:

My fish for the great Sand Eel Blitz of 2013

15 lbs, 33"

apparently a guy at the launch was making fun
of all of my gear and asked where I was going to put the fish....

     It wasn't easy to come by.  We started fishing just before sunset.  We hit all of our usual spots where fish were caught in the past.  Up and down Snake Ditch.  "Weakfish Point."  Unsure about the wind, since the forecast was so far off from the reality, we decided to head west, knowing that if and when the wind picked up, at least it would blow us back to the launch.  Around many turns, and through Horsefoot Slough (where I had caught a keeper exactly a month ago) we travelled out to Oyster Creek Channel, (the area we call Seal Island.)  It was here that I caught my biggest fish of the spring.  There were no boats.   I was surprised.  I was surprised because the past few trips out there there had always been at least one one boat drifting along the banks.  This time we had it all to ourselves.  I went straight out into about 20 feet of water.  It was slack tide, and there was a nice rip forming just in front of Seal Island where the incoming and outgoing waters were trying to do battle.  This meant some standing waves.  I was unsure if I was getting hits on my eel, or the water and current and (now) wind were just strong enough to take line on my baitrunner.  I tightened up on the drag a little.  Still getting tugs, then nothing a few more times, and a few recasts to check my eel, I hear the line go...., I pick up my rod....., and I feel the telltale weight of a fish.   I'm using a relatively new rod, A Shimano Teramar with an Avet SXJ.
     The rod has a ton of sensitivity in the top half.  I could feel every little head jerk the fish was making, and I wasn't used to this.  Also, it took me a few moments to feel out the size of the fish.  I hollered to KGB "Hooked up!"
He said, "nothing."
 I said, "HOOKED UP"
 He said "NOTHINGS GOING ON."
 I hollered " NO,  I HAVE A FISH, AND IT"S BIG!"

 I think that's when he realized what I was shouting about.

I let it take a few runs once I felt the weight, which was probably a good idea, as it was barely hooked.

Though the Teramar is sensitive, it has a good backbone, and the Avet is just a powerhorse.

We spent a little longer at Seal Island, then moved on to the Sedge House where KGB had a short on his eel, then let the wind which had picked up  carry us back to the launch.

All in all, we followed the plan we had made, and had a successful trip, (though still not the off the hook trip we were hoping for,) the weather was much more pleasant than predicted and we both caught fish!!!

2nd week of Nov.

27" Striper with Eel in mouth

Just a quick little report.  

First the good news:     It took us a while, but Saturday night we ended up finding some fish.  Nothing over 28" in the boat, but all were very close.  I think we each boated two, and had many many hits and lost fish on our eels.  There was very little water back in the Sedges, and it wasn't until the incoming tide that we started getting hits.  I marked the fish on my Humminbird, and immediately started getting hits.  I feel more and more confident about being able to read and interpret the information my fishfinder is giving me.

And now the bad news:     COLD AND WINDY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

     Two things, like pop rocks and Coke-a-Cola, that when combined together make it extremely difficult to fish from a kayak.  Steve tried it on  Monday night.  When I joined him on Tuesday evening he was frozen solid.  I held him over the fire to thaw him out, but only the outside got crispy.  It melted, and smelled like burning plastic.  Eventually he thawed out and came to at Grumpy's.  Someone was talking to him when he came to.  I think the guy was trying to tell him a story of how his friend stepped off a sandbar, and that's why it's smart for Steve to wear his pfd.  But Steve actually thought he was still in his kayak floating in the inlet.  He told the man so much, but he wouldn't listen, he just kept talking, and talking.  It was warm in the store, but we knew that eventually we would have to leave, so we made a plan that did not include the boats....

       Instead (of kayak fishing) we tossed some eels in the Pt. Pleasant Canal for a couple of hours, then tried surf fishing for an hour and a half (really pathetic, I know).  One of the first things I think I learned about fishing is that you have to put in the time to catch fish....and this we did not do on Tuesday night.  So, it's not much of a report, because, though I packed my kayak, and all of my kayaking gear, I didn't even bother getting it wet.  

"Paddle paddle paddle" week of Nov. 6th ....

paddle paddle paddle

Monday Nov 4th, 2013 thru Tuesday Nov 5th, 2013.

Steve arrived at the Sedges in IBSP before sunset to fish through the night.  He managed one short and one keeper, both on a Hogy eel imitation.  Both at Weakfish point. (the interesting point here is that he had real eels with him)

I arrived at 5:00 a.m.  Just in time for sunrise.  Short bass, and more short bass.
The morning was slow.

We paddled our way to all of the usual spots.  In fact, if your looking at this blog on a computer, (as opposed to a smart phone) then to the right you should see a new little map of the sedges.  We basically covered every inch of that map.

In front of the sedge house I caught a short on a live eel.

Steve had continuous daytime action on topwater lures.

Rule # 201: When in a kayak, remember, things are always farther away than they look!

We paddled across the inlet to Double Creek channel, where we had never really had much luck, and the current was ripping.  (I caught two shorts there.)

---Over the radio I heard some boat chatter about another kayaker that was stuck paddling against the current by the lighthouse----
.
We paddled across the inlet (back to snake ditch) after sunset.  I got stuck on a sandbar, then went too far, then caught no fish in Snake Ditch even though I heard them feeding, and was throwing small profiles.  Oh well.

So, overall, we caught no fish where we usually catch fish, and caught fish where we usually don't!

Shorts, shorts, shorts, and I'm not talking about pants!

    Sometimes I am haunted by the thought that I will never again see as big a fish as I have in the past by the side of my kayak (which truth be told isn't even that big), to slide it onto my lap and regard its beauty.  I am now the master of the 20" back bay striper!
     I can say with near certainty that no-one was fishing in N.J. this time last year.  So as I look at my records I have to go back to Oct 2011.  We were fishing the sedges from land with eels back then, and my records are vague in that they say "many fish 30"-35" for all three of us, (KGB, Steve and I) from Oct 26th to Nov 7th. 
     Almost every fishing trip has a week of planning and theorizing behind it.  So, when the time comes to fish, the let-down of unfulfilled dreams is tremendous.  What would seem to a normal person as a good day on the water turns into utter failure for the crazed and demented and addicted fishermen that we are.
    To the point: I was after big fish.  I sought structure and deep water.  I used live baits.
   
The Report:

     On Monday Oct 28th I went on an evening trip with KGB.  Our plan was to fish until 11:00 PM, but instead we fished until 1:00 AM.  I made a beeline for the N. Jetty.
Slack tide in the inlet was 6:00 PM and sunset was around 6:00 PM, a wonderful coincidence worth taking advantage of.  I trolled tube-n-worm through Snake ditch and caught two shorts.  I could have stayed and caught more fish (and perhaps larger fish), but my thoughts were stuck on the fact there would be larger fish along the rocks.  There were a few guys fishing the pocket, a diver at the end, and several boats fishing over the rocks at the end of the N. Jetty.  It was calm, and the boat traffic was surprisingly low.  I had no problems trolling  my lure out to the end of the jetty, then at the end of the incoming drifting an eel back in.  I didn't even get a sniff.

N. Jetty

     After the sun had set I fished with eels in Oyster Creek Channel along with MANY boats.  Again, not a sniff.
     Back inside I caught a few more shorts on bass assassins, all tagged and released.  We ended the trip floating eels around in Snake Ditch.
     Not a Sniff.

A short striped bass tagged fish for the American Littoral Society

    I got to hand it to KGB, he stuck it out with the big baits and got skunked, while I couldn't help but toss small plastics and catch 20" fish.

     Two days later I was back at it, only because I could.  My confidence level was WAY too high.  For sure, I thought, this time there would be big fish around, as the boats had been nailing them out front just the day before.  Steve and I fished from about noon to 11:00 PM.  He stuck to flats fishing with a popper and was able to conjure up some shorts (and tails of larger fish).  I was determined to hit deeper water, again, with bigger lures.  This time I went straight out to Oyster Creek Channel.
     I found a school of shorts out by Seal Island.  I stopped harassing them to troll my tube in deep water.  I probably gave up on this too soon.
     I paddled to the corner of Snake Ditch where a million short bass live.  I was beginning to be bored.  I started to go through all of the free soft plastic lures that I had gotten at the tournaments recently.  First was a Chartreuse bass assassin.  I watched a fish come look at it.  Next cast I  slowed my retrieve and hooked up.   I cast it a few more times, then Steve joined me for a dinner break on the corner.  As we were sitting there, I threw on a generic version of a Mr. Twister.

Mr Twister

Something I had never used before, but others do well with out there.  I had a whole baggie full of them.  First cast, fish on. (Yet another 20 inch fish)


 Once again I ended my day at Snake Ditch drifting an eel, getting no love.   The tide was really slack, both Steve and I felt satisfied with the trip.

old Barney and a calm inlet

report - 4th Annual NCKFA Oak Island Classic Kayak Fishing Tournament, by Alexi

 Last weekend we drove 8 hours to fish in the 4th Annual NCKFA Oak Island Classic Kayak Fishing Tournament.  The anticipation for this trip was intense.  It had been two years since we had been to this tournament, and supposedly we were much better fishermen now than we were then.

the launch pad

     Our first stop was the Bass Pro shop in Baltimore, Md.  We had 15% off one item coupons from the CBKA tournament.

Steve holds the coupon

We had been planning to use this coupon to it's fullest potential, perhaps buying the most expensive thing we could see useful.  However, upon reading the fine print, (always fine print) Steve discovered that this discount was only good for certain items; nothing expensive.  We picked up some popping corks having read on the magical internet that these would be useful to us in catching redfish and specs.

     Our second stop was Green Top.

taxidermy at it's finest

A family owned giant fishing and hunting store just outside of  Richmond, Va.  There I bought a Shimano Curado baitcaster reel and a Shimano Teremar rod that's probably too heavy for it, but will be useful to me in the future.

     Our third shopping stop was at Walmart.

even the outside is depressing!

Steve was getting his fishing license and we were both doing some grocery shopping for the next couple of days.  Some items in our carts; Cheese, bread, charcoal, mayonnaise, beanie weenie, ice, beer, water, beer, energy bars, and energy drinks.
     The motel was familiar.  We stayed there two years ago.  It's the Captains Cove Hotel. We got there just in time for check in.  Very affordable and not shady.  They do however say that even if you get skunked, you can always catch crabs at the Captains Cove Hotel.
     Upon arriving there was a truck in the parking area with four kayaks on it.  We started talking to Chad who was there to promote he and his dad's company that makes the T-bone.  It's an attachment that goes on the back of your pick-up truck to load your kayaks onto it.  Chad was also there to fish.  As he said "Beer, Beards, and Kayak Fishing!"          

captain's cove hotel

     We woke up early and went to our first pre-fishing spot, Bluewater Point Marina and Hotel.  The plan was to pre-fish four areas (four hours each) over the course of two days, and where we caught the most inches of fish total would be the tournament spot.  It was windy, to say the least.  I had some short fluke, or flounder as they say in North Carolina and most other places on earth besides N.J, N.Y,)  and Steve caught a redfish (as would be the pattern for my whole trip).

one of many Redfish

double spots

one of many Flounder

We found some really nice, out-of-the-way flats that should have been holding slot reds, but weren't, so we moved on to the next spot.
     The next fishing location was a fish desert.  It was Dutchman Creek. We were both skunked there.  
     We went back to the base camp and drank beers and cooked a Redfish, and talked with Chad.

cleaning the REdfish at the hotel

     The next day had a similar pattern.  In the first half of the day we went back to the same launch we ended the previous day with, even though it stunk like a dead skunk by the side of the road, but instead of going left we went right.  I caught flounder, Steve found a redfish.  I also ran into Phil who was calling out like a loon or an owl in some narrow little creek.  He thought I was one of his friends.  I thought he was a bird.  Since fishing was really not a priority for either of us, we paddled and talked for a bit.  It turns out the concrete ships at Kiptopeke are four hours for them, and four hours for us, so tentatively we planned on meeting there this winter.
     The second half of friday we spent at the spot we fished for the tournament two years ago, Varnamtown.  It's a small shrimping port, way back up the Eastern Bend.  This is where two years ago KGB, Steve and I saw tons of finning redfish on the flats.  I had high expectations.  Steve was skunked there, and I caught (my first) two Spec's simultaneously.

10" speckled trout

18" speckled trout

I had a popping cork floating behind me while I was casting a gulp bucktail along the shore.  I hooked up with a ten inch Speck on the Gulp Bucktail and was in the process of photographing it when my back rod went off.  It was an 18" Speckled Trout.  This was pretty much the highlight of my trip, though I wouldn't know it then.  That was the end of the day there.  Now we had to decide what to do for the tournament.

     Tournament day we went to Varnamtown.

launch at Varnamtown

We woke up late.  My alarm didn't go off.  Not too late, but we weren't there by 7 A.M.  Steve started the day off finding the Redfish in some shallow water.  The tide was out going, and they were in some shallow spit of water.  I wasn't getting into any action, so I went and did the float he did, and saw several Reds, but had no luck hooking into any.  My best fish for the day was a measely 14.5" flounder.  Steve's redfish was 19", a bit shorter than the one he had on the first day we were out there, which was a 22" Red.  He caught that one the same way I caught my Speck, with a drifting a fake shrimp under a popping cork.
     Later in the day we find a little spot that will forever be known as "shitstorm hole."

example of a shitstorm

I hooked into something big in this spot that cut me off on some oyster shells.  Then, as I was fishing the hole, I nearly lost my rod and my reel, and my boga grip.....but I didn't actually lose anything, because magically I stood up and walked across my boat and gathered my gear and sat back down!
  That was it for the tounament, we had to head back to the be at the door by 4.  We got there at ten of...Our fish were small, but it wasn't worth the chance, because what if everyone else's day happen to be worse....Of course it wasn't.

tournament headquarters

All in all, though we didn't "win" we were triumphant!!!!

"The best laid plans of mice and men often go astray": first week of Oct. fishing report by Alexi

     It was already dark out.  Steve had moved furniture all day.  I had just finished band practice.  Usually it's time to put back a few beers.  Instead we pile our gear into his truck and head east.
     There is no logical explanation for the false expectations we held in our heads.  Neither reports nor our own records  pointed us in the direction of having a "banner" night of fishing.  The only explanation I can give to you as to why we were ever so confident that we would catch keeper bass at Snake ditch, or Weakfish Point, or Oyster Creek Channel, or on the flats, is that we had left the fish biting last time we were fishing.  Our general confidence level was way UP!  That being said, I truly believe that there was a resident keeper bass lurking the other night in the deep recesses of Oyster Creek Channel, only we never made it there.
     The problem with working all day, and leaving to fish at midnight, is that by the time we got to the fishing spot the sandman was at our door, saying "sleep damn it!!!! You're tired."
     It is questionable wether or not we fished between the hours of 2 and 5:30 a.m.  Nothing was caught.  The current where we were was ripping, it was FULL of weeds, and the current and wind were in some kind of conspiracy.  We struggled through Snake Ditch, and by the time we were ready to take a nap, the sun was coming up "like a big bald head."
   

   

     We wake up late.  Within minutes of being on the water I hook into a short.

I think this is how the rest of the day is going to go, solid non-stop fishing action.  We fish at "Weakfish Point"  for a while and nothing really happens.  Some bass assassin tails get bit off, but that's it.
     Time slows down and speeds up at the same time.  Going from Snake Ditch to Oyster Creek Channel isn't far, but it always seems to take forever because at low tide it might mean getting out of the kayak and walking.  And so it did.  By the time I got there Steve was already there via a different route.  Drifting, jigging, trolling, casting.  Nothing is producing.  Finally after trying all of the usual spots in that area, I go for what I know best.  Bluefish with a bucktail.  Well, really I prefer to use a kastmaster for bluefish, but a bucktail is second best.  Cast far.  Count to seven.  Jerk it hard, let it drop, jerk it hard, let it drop, fish on....That's it folks, my (not so) secret bucktailing for bluefish from land near a channel technique.  I stayed for a few more casts, hooked into another short bass, then moved on.

     I went through one of the new channels on my way to the Sedge House and it was gin clear with not a fish in it.  Out onto the flats, I stood and took in the scenery.    I guess I was sight fishing, but since I didn't see anything it was more like site seeing.  In front of the Sedge House I saw a small school of medium sized bunker.  It was a good sign.  It's the biggest bait I've seen back there in a while.  Right now there's spearing, mullet, and bunker.  Where were all of their predators?  I had no luck in front of the sedge house, so as I was leaving I needed to switch from a bucktail to a topwater lure to fish the flats.  As I was reeling in my line to change the lure I hooked up with another short bass.
     I stood and paddled most of the way across the flat on the way back to the launch.  I saw one bass that I couldn't get a lure in front of because in the time it took me to ready the rod the current changed my position.   Back in front of the launch produced nothing, and
 usually it's not hard to pull a bluefish out of there.
    As you can see there were fish that were caught.   But the plan.  The plan to catch a 28"bass, or a weakfish.  That plan failed.  And failure, coupled with complete exhaustion, is a recipe for disappointment.  In the end, however, it's ALWAYS BETTER THAN WATCHING T.V.

One Last Fluke, by Alexi

     By the time this picture was taken Steve had stood on his kayak site casting flats, drifted and caught fluke (shorts) in snake ditch, and had been to the inlet and lost a big fluke due to a faulty knot.  A thing he says he despises.  I will vouch for this.  If there is anyone who loves drifting into the ocean, or into rocks, or into other boats, or into a rip while tying a knot it's Steve.  He's meticulous about it to say the least.  The dropper loop is a tricky thing.  I've had this knot slip many times.  Steve examined his line after he lost the "big fluke" and determined that it was his dropper loop that failed.       

Harvest Moon

     Now as for me, well I have grown to utterly HATE teasers and dropper loops in the past year.  Also I had denounced gulp because my last three trips I've caught nothing but short fluke, and had all of my gulp tails bit off quickly.  (Another $8 down the mouths of small blackfish and blues.)   So it is just my fate to catch and land a nice 21" fluke in the inlet on none other than the teaser hook with a gulp swimming mullet on it.  (Because I had refused to buy gulp, I was like a smoker who says he quit.  I bummed gulp from Steve.)  What should also be noted is my technique: although I had caught many short fluke using the Skinner technique (rapid vertical jigging) this fish I caught using my own technique- self jigging.  This is when I throw my rod in the rod holder and let the waves and the kayak do the jigging for me.  (I don't think it was this technique that caught the fish, but the pause and drop of the gulp.)

     After this picture was taken I trolled a pink tube-n-worm along the sedges in Oyster Creek Channel in the hopes of catching the elusive weakfish (a boater had said he had lost a big one at the boat the other day.  I didn't find his lost fish).  I went to do what I know- what I had so much fun doing a few nights earlier around sunset-  trolling tube-n-worm in snake ditch during slack tide along the sedges and catching several 20" bass.  I know that someday soon, the bass will get bigger.  Not literally of course, those 20" fish aren't going to grow.  Their parents will be showing up.  And when they do, I want to be there.

21" fluke

sept 5, sedges report and rant By Alexi

    Labor Day.  What a difference it makes.  Post labor day fishing at IBSP in the sedges is serene to say the least.  The crowds are gone.  The osprey have started their migration south.  The grass is at it's tallest, and is turning golden.  It's like a drug.  It's what I NEED.   It wasn't a trip about what I caught or what I caught it on.  It was a solo kayak journey into (almost) complete darkness.  New moon.  Overcast, then absolutely clear two hours later.  Windy as all hell.  Current in OCC just ripping, but who knew?  I couldn't even tell I was moving until I looked down at my GPS.  But I don't want to talk about the fishing.  I want to talk about fishing.  What compels us to do it?  For me it's the utter calmness of it all.  Sure there's the challenge, but I know what to expect.  I know that the big bass and blues aren't in the bay right now.  I know most of the big fluke have moved out of the bay as well.  So, why fish?  I think it's the need to escape the city.  To get away from "civilization."  To have time and peace and quite to think (and to fish)

When the sun is low on the horizon and it's overcast, the sedge grass to the east glows

     I arrived to relatively calm conditions.  I knew it would be windy, but as the weather's wind predictions have been wrong recently, and the two sites I look at for weather were changing their predictions in opposing directions (on weather.com it was windier, on weatherunderground it was less windy) I decided it was worth a go at fishing the sedges. 

     I arrived at area 21 at IBSP around 4:30.  I drifted by the launch looking for fluke and found none.  I went to snake ditch.  It was impossible to drift because the wind was opposite of the current.  But, I was able cast from my kayak as if I was casting from land. I did this for a while to no avail.  I started to give up on the fluke, and began to transition to bass/ blues. I caught two bass on the small bass assasins, and a third on haddon spook just after sunset. 

three of these little guys, all around 20" tagged one of them

     Then the wind picked up.  There was no moon which made it difficult to see.  I drifted into Oyster Creek Channel, in pitch blackness,  for a second just to realize that the current was ripping out there.  

     I paddled back through one of the new creeks we've found that connect to the shallow water by the launch.  It was windier and weedier than it had been all evening so I fished back to the launch.  Just at around 10:15, when I arrived at the launch, the wind had pretty much stopped.  

as the sunset, the wind picked up

More of the same "Summer in the Sedges" shenanigans, by Alexi

      So I'm experimenting with using a gopro and final cut express, and this what I've come up with so far.  It's truly an experiment in the process of refinement (hopefully) so please hold your judgement on this one...... 

Fishing report: Lots of short fluke, a few bluefish, and more short bass

getting itchy for fall, report by Alexi

     I realize that last week I had no fish pictures, so this week I decided to try to photograph every fish that I caught.
    I missed a couple of fluke pictures because I had to release them quickly.  (When your drifting towards a boat or the shore or out the inlet to the ocean, sometimes the picture loses priority.)
     The bluefish were on crack cocaine, (If you've ever caught a 20" bluefish from a kayak you know what I mean) so I couldn't get them to sit still for a picture until after they were out of the frying pan.
    And the bass, well I realize now that had I been using a bass assassin at all I could have caught a million of them, but instead just had one appear for a quick psychedelic summer meeting at the side of my kayak.
    All I missed for my slam was the elusive weakfish, which I am confident now I will never catch.  However, technically I also caught about a 4" blackfish while trying to no avail to catch snappers for bait.  Does that count for anything?????



    My thoughts this week while fishing were mostly about how the fall can't come soon enough.  The fish are just plain bigger in the fall.  (Grumble grumble grumble)    My goal, as is probably true of most fisherman, is to find patterns that are reliable.  It seems, however, that like a growing child, each week at the sedges is a different story.  But once I have several years of records about specific spots, then watch out fish!!!!  Then I can adjust and tweak my tools to where it's like shooting fish in a barrel.  But would that really be fun?   Shooting fish in a barrel?  I mean, what is the point of that?  Anyway, lets not get too philosophical about this endeavor.  I went fishing.  I caught some fish.  Here are some pictures....

All of the fluke were around 15"  the bass was about about 20, and the blues were one to two pounds.

The Bluefish / aka crab-bait/ aka my lunch 

Land Fluke

Fluke 1

Striper

Fluke

Summer in the Sedges, a report by Alexi

     Sometimes, and I mean really only occasionally, I feel like I have WAY too much gear.  I just had to get that out the way before I go on a rant about the wind and the plague of short bass and fluke and how the weathermen were totally wrong..

Sun set as we arrived, fly guys at the launch

     Steve and I went out the other day without too much of a plan and the wind really got in the way.  To quote Groucho Marx, our fishing on Wed early A.M. (overnight) in the sedges "ended with all of the abruptness of seven martinis on an empty stomach."  It was like that, your drunk with fishing happiness in fishing heaven.  In utter bliss.  There's nobody around.  The fish are feeding on top in the flats.  They're following your topwater plug all of the way to your kayak.  It's awesome.  Like being drunk at a party and you think everyone loves you, and you love them, and then it hits you.  The wind just turned on like a switch.  Then the rain.  Then more wind.   The forecast was for about 10 mph winds that night, but it was a steady 20.   Not gusting, steady.  It was also WAYYY colder than they said it would be.  THEN, I notice my radio is missing, AND my paddle is breaking in half.  I held it together just enough to make it back to the launch.
     We slept (or just laid there) in the truck for maybe an hour, then the sun came up and we packed up.  We tried a few other spots from land, and Steve managed to catch a decent sized Blue, but otherwise not much was happening.
     I couldn't let this trip live long in my memory, and felt like I had time to redeem it, and possibly find my radio.  My mistake was leaving my GPS at home.  I could have gone back to the exact spot where I think I dropped it.  Instead I had to guess.

the Osprey babies are fully grown

    So yesterday I was out there and caught a short Fluke right off the bat.  Then at what we are referring to as "the new Snake Ditch" I found the short bass.  After a couple of those I headed to where I thought I had dropped my radio, but couldn't find it.  Then I headed to Snake Ditch, where I was sure I would catch a keeper fluke.  I caught a short bass on the way in.   The wind and current were opposite each-other which made the drift impossible.  After a few attempts of drifting and casting for fluke, as the sun was setting, I headed for the flats in hopes of running into the feeding frenzy of earlier in the week.  But either it was too early in the evening, or the tide was wrong, because there was very little topwater activity.  I headed back.

Daytime Moon

Another sunset at Snake Ditch

Sleep? Eventually..., by Alexi

Steve at first light

     Twice now we've made a trip to the Sedges with the intention of fishing pre-dawn and first light.  This usually means missing a night of sleep.  You could say that the first trip like this a couple of weeks ago precipitated the second, not because it was a success, but because of the experience.  As fishermen we hear of things, but quite often we haven't experienced them yet, and when it happens there is truly a "AHA" moment.  Seeing the flats of the sedges at first light in the summer is an amazing experience.

   In the middle of the night (when we launched) there were sounds of fish feeding.  We heard them, "sploosh, splish, splash"  but we still went to deeper water.   What we didn't know is that the fish were (only) up on the flats, not in the deeper water where they would move to after sunrise.  To know....When I say "What we didn't know"what I mean is, of course we had heard and read that the larger fish move onto the flats at night and feed, but we haven't figured out a way to target them..., yet.  (Fly rods may be in short order for next summer.)  To know where the fish are isn't enough.  To have the right tools for fishing for them is equally as important.  So after trolling around a tube-n-worm along the sedges and casting around bass assassins, we agreed to move to a different spot.  During this move, going through about one to two feet of water I began to hear what would eventually become a cacophony of fish feeding.  The problem is that there are lots of weeds and almost any lure will get mucked.  I threw on a Zara Spook and started trolling it.  " SPLOOSH"  I wasn't expecting a fish trolling this lure, as it's not really a swimmer, but needs to have more of a walk the dog presentation.  But I did have a nice upper 20" class fish take it.  (it self-released at the side of my boat.)  I continued to fish it for a little while, then switched to smaller plastic baits because whatever they were feeding on was SMALL.  "SPALSH" As I stood there on a bank, I kept hearing larger splashes mixed in with the smaller ones.  Even the smallest popper I had was seemingly too big to match the hatch.  Eventually I caught a few on a small bas assassin, but they were really small bass.

one of many shorts
 

        After sunrise we found a new cut through to the buoys, and it was full of short bass.  We probably could have stayed there and caught a hundred.  But we moved on to another task, fluking.

     We drifted and battled wind and current out by the buoys in the channel but it was too challenging with the wind.  Eventually we ended up across the inlet.  Out by the Dyke we took a land break.  Afterwards, I started drifting with the end of the out going tide.  I caught several short fluke in and around a fleet of boats, but again, this type of fishing is frustrating for a kayak in the inlet.  I decided to

head for the quiet serenity of Snake Ditch where I met up with Steve again. Several drifts through Snake Ditch proved fruitful for short Fluke for me, and three keepers for Steve.  I was getting pretty frustrated with only getting short fluke.  I even had a double header of short bass when reeling in my fluke rig to check it for weeds.  Finally on what was to be our last drift I hooked up with a 19"fluke.  No doormat, but still what I was after.

This is mostly what we see

Sleepless disheveled kayak

     Many things come to mind when I think about the kayak as a tool.  I think about the boats in the inlet catching short fluke, the amount of resources it takes to maintain a boat.  I think about the recent news story of a boat that was 7 miles off shore fluking, and they saw a great white shark eating a dolphin.  I heard that story, and my first thought was, 7 miles of gas for some fluke?  I'm not suggesting people shouldn't enjoy their boats, I only mean to say if your goal is to catch fish, sometimes you don't have to go too far.