The title of this post is a lie. I didn't really fish from dawn to dusk, I started this last trip in true form, "Fishing In The Dark." I began by doing a little surf fishing which produced nada. I threw a few casts in the dark in the surf for about an hour before I fell asleep in the back of my truck at the motor lodge. I used to sleep at the motor lodge, but I realized the back of my truck wasn't that different than one of their rooms.
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| the cast shadow of the lights of man |
I set my alarm for between first light and sunrise, but it still felt late. When I walked out to the beach to suss out the wave height, there were already a million boats in close to shore. I quickly packed up my gear and got into the ocean.
They (the boats) were on peanut bunker. (were the bass as well?) I was prepared for adult bunker. I trolled my stretch lure in the hopes of running into some adult bunker along the way in the hopes of switching to a snag. The chatter on the radio was that the big fish were down deep. This was not looking like it was going to be a repeat of my last trip. My confidence was waning. The boats were annoying to say the least. There were so many folks out there that the wake of the boats was way worse than the ocean swell. It was like a Saturday on a Friday morning. In my haste and fatigue when getting ready for my surf launch I managed to forget to bring my camera, so you will have to just believe me when I say (and it's obviously not for bragging rights that I even mention this) I did mange to convince a 23" bass to impale itself on my stretch lure. This did not instill in me the lust for more, and as the ocean, with all of the boats, and the pretty nasty chop in the water was causing me no end of stress I decided to call it a day around 10.
I didn't feel quite right after I packed up all of my gear. I knew I had more fishing energy in me, and that it was too early to return to the mundane tasks of daily life. I entered the park to use the bathroom and change, and mull around in "the little gray cells" just a little more of the options that I had to continue my fishing adventure. I decided ultimately to at least drive to winter anchorage and take a look.
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| winter anchorage |
The sedges were as always sublime and enticing.
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| alone and at peace at snake ditch |
I couldn't resist. Though I almost gave up, my only reel appropriate for the bay, my Curado 300, was NOT working at all and I sat forlornly at the launch on my kayak as a fly fisherwoman/ nature photographer from Maine convinced me to douse it with WD-40 (or anything including olive oil) and try to save my trip. I went back to my truck to find that, though I didn't have any WD-40 I did have a large can of PB Blaster. (Even better!) I must have put about 12 ounces of that stuff into my reel before it started working again. But it did, and boy was I glad.
I did the full sedge before dark, about noon to 5, and I don't think I'd be lying if I said that much more often than not, when I retrieved my lure back to my boat there was a fish on it. Not that any of them were of any size at all, but that's just not the point when fishing during the day in the Sedges. The point is that there was not a soul back there. It's a pure escape from everything! A fish at every point, in every hole, in every rip! Some on top-water, but mostly on small Bass Assassins, both weightless and with jig heads.
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| They were feeding at Snake Ditch |
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| along the banks |
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| on small Bass Assassins |
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| at every corner |
They were feeding all day. In every spot that I had EVER caught a fish, there was one feeding.
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| sunset |
I wanted. To make. One. More. Cast. (but I watched the sun set and left)
