"Take the kid fishing" by Alexi

     They say to "take a kid fishing," so I did.  We had a good plan that worked out well.  We were at the launch around 7 a.m.  Early enough to miss the crowds, late enough to stop at Grumpy's and spend a million dollars.
      It was a calm and pleasant morning behind IBSP.  We floated and took in the scenery.  No pressure to catch fish, just chill.  We spotted a nice sized ray in about a foot of water,  many crabs,  osprey, schools of mullet and spearing, and so on...  And so we floated out towards Seal Island (Oyster Creek Channel.)   I had a fluke in (and out) of my boat in one of the cut-thrus on the way there.  I was not too disappointed that I lost it since by my judgement it was not quite 18".  Once we got to seal island it was non-stop action.  Bluefish up to 2lbs on almost every cast.  Now the kid can no longer claim to be terminally and perpetually skunked.

Castmaster, single hook, 1 oz = bluefish magic

Proof that the kid is no longer terminally skunked

I was fishing with gulp and a lightweight bucktail, maybe 1/2 or 3/4 oz chartreuse over white Spro.   I was switching around how deep I was fishing it, and sometimes just fishing it on bottom.  I knew that there were fluke around and so I picked up what is my best fluke of the season so far, at 20".

20" Fluke

Fluke Gun?

     Once we got tired of catching fish it was around noon.  The wind had picked up a little, the summer people in their boats had come out, and the current was outgoing (against the way we needed to paddle) and LOW.  So, we had a tough paddle back, but we made it none-the-less.  As tough as it was we took our time, and, though it was a bit longer, we didn't walk our kayaks.

    We had ice cream on the way back, at the Sundae Times, and discussed plans for the next kayak fishing expedition.

  

Summer Fishery in South Jersey, by Alexi

Steve Standing

     In the quietest part of the night we launched our kayaks into the backwaters of New Jersey.   From there on the trip is a blur.  Like a dream, or a memory of a song.  Time moves like molasses, and then it's racing, running.
    It's all quiet on the flat.  Enter the thru-way.  A bluefish on a top-water lure.  Outgoing tide into sunrise.  Break on through.  Night becomes the day.  Sunrise.  Fish feeding on the banks but no hook-ups.  "Smack, smack."  A million casts.  This one is perfect.

    Daytime.   Low-tide.  It's eerily quiet.  Where are the boats?  It's a nice day.  No wind.  Like another dream I have of being at school when it's a holiday, only I didn't know, and no one is there.
    Eventually, we give up on bass and go for croakers.  Hook up.  In the box.  The rays are acting very territorial.
    Sunset will be soon. Target Fluke.  Slack.  Low.  Incoming.  Wait for the switch.  Once my drift reached 1.5mph  it was fish after fish every drift.  Fatigue.   One at 18.  Wait, how long was I in my boat?
I fall asleep mid-sentence on the way back....twice

very very small black sea bass

short fluke

two croaker, one blue, one fluke