Fishing in the Dark 2017 Movie

Here it is folks!  The movie for the blog for the winter!

Fishing in the Dark movie link

Do the stupid thing, by Alexi

"Do the stupid thing" it's a MOJO

 Last week's post left off with an air of hopefulness.   But now, as the season winds down, and I look at the weather forecast and see snow.  I resign myself to most likely not being able to break the 48" 36lb mark on striped bass in 2017.
   BUT, when you have a plan and it works, and you fish with friends and everyone catches, and maybe someone even flips their kayak in the surf but magically only loses a pair of shitty old pliers, that's a great trip!  Whether it was record breaking or not.

Perchman and KGB discuss which Sabbath record is the most metal

   KGB is in on this one.  Another 4AM trip.  It's dark until we reach the motor lodge.  Perchman is meeting us there, (between this trip and the last he's moved to Cape May Courthouse..woop!!!)  We stop at Murphy's so that I can get a heavier Mojo.  KGB can't do it.  I've been fishing, he hasn't .  I know what to expect, that the fish are deep, and the bunker pods are scarce.  I have a 6oz Mojo, I buy a 12.  Only Chartreuse anything ever.

   The surf is just slightly nasty, but Perchman and I punch through the waves with the confidence of the several surf launches we have behind us this season (it does get easier with practice.)  KGB takes quite a bit longer, but eventually meets us in the ocean.  There are birds working, probably on sand eels, and we chase them.  There are several boats out by now, and I can see that some are hooked up.  Eventually KGB and Perchman catch up to me, and the boats, and the birds, and we all catch fish in the 28-35" range.

Perchman with fish

   Of course, I had lent KGB my 6oz Mojo, so that he could catch a fish.

KGB's 35" Dinner Striper

For me, since this trip was about breaking a record, it was all catch and release.  I had three fish in total, all around 30".  Here's an underwater Mojo shot:

underwater Mojo.

I'm not saying it's over.  Today I'll finish up the rest of my smoked Striped Bass, tomorrow I'll fish...

the end

Out Front, by Alexi

   I'm writing this standing on the proverbial precipice of another trip of a similar sort.  Looking for a repeat, or dare I say an improvement.  I'm not greedy, I just know that these opportunities are only available to me on occasion at best.  And so with tomorrow's wave height forecast to be under 1 foot and wind expected from the northwest right around 16mph... bunker, bass, boats and whales will all converge off of Seaside Park, NJ.

   We will see,

first one on a Mojo, just around 29" released

If We can,

second on Mojo, just around 29" released

Repeat,

Just over 35" 15lbs on live Bunker

And hopefully improve.

     The reason I launch myself into the wake of the surf in the late fall, if it hasn't become obvious already, is to catch a personal best Striper.   For me that's over 48" or 36 lbs.  

WE WILL SEE....

The payoff is in the back, By alexi

     November on the New Jersey coast is absolutely THE month to fish for striped bass and everyone knows it.  Almost everyone, anyway.  As I awkwardly  unload my kayak for the third (maybe fourth) time from the top of my truck in the past ten days a passerby asks me "Why are those boats out there? is there a tournament or something?"  No, it's just the first day where a calm ocean has coincided with a weekend.  It's Sunday.  The fleet is already there when  I arrive.

the fleet

Where am I? Spot-burn, the Jersey coast in November.  One giant spot-burn. ( For those unfamiliar with the term: a spot-burn is when you give away a good fishing location.) This whole blog is one giant spot-burn.  The Jersey Coast in November.  Day or night.  Any bridge, any canal, any jetty, any beach, any inlet.  One giant spot-burn.

I tried North.

Keyport Municipal boat ramp

I fished Raritan Bay 2, maybe 3 times.  I lost track.  I was skunked.  It was too windy one night, I was a day late the next trip...Just missed the "bite"  I tried the ocean in Northern Jersey, around Belmar - I saw a dogfish caught one trip, out of a thousand boats, one damn dogfish.  That was funny.  On another trip I was between two boats and they both hooked up with bass on snagged bunker, but I didn't.  So my skunk was persistent.  The wind has been un-predictable.  Two or three times I've had to call a trip short because it was predicted wrong.  Gusting up to 25 or 30 when it was going to be a barely tolerable 15 mph.

I tried drifting eels in the back.  (After catching innumerable shorts in the day) only to come up dry.  No fish on eels.

I tried out front AGAIN, only to be called off by the wind.  Now?  What next?  That's what I asked myself.  Here it is, god-damn November.  The month I should be leaving my Kayak on the top of my truck.  The month I should be leaving my gear ready at the door.  I should be catching fish.

-----

sedges sunset

Half over.  November 14th.  I start later, I fish later, after reading my own damn blog!  I needed to chase my own reports.  My own spot-burns from previous years.  So I launch at sunset in the Sedges.

...and then the fishing begins...

fishing in the dark

The eels had been collecting in my pond from various trips between Steve and I.  I didn't need to stop at the tackle shop.  I even left a few behind.  I had all of my gear, but once the sun set it was one eel, one rod one circle hook.  I drifted, and I drifted, and I wasn't getting any action.  I made my way to Oyster Creek Channel where I encountered a USCG (Coast Guard) boat with whom I had a peculiar encounter.  The captain thought I was two people on a jet ski.  He said there were no personal watercraft allowed on the water after dark.  I didn't argue, and agreed to head back, which is what I'm always doing once I start fishing.  There is a beginning and an end.  Once I start, I'm on my way back.  And so I made my way around, back through skinnier water that by now I know even better than the back of my hand at any tide.  The night grew long and my toes were cold.  Just as it usually happens with Striped Bass fishing, as the night goes on the fishing improves, and in a very specific rip with a hump and some deeper water I found a school of 26-30" bass that wanted my eel presented in a VERY specific manner.  Finally, a pattern.

night stripers, one of 5 right around 28"

It was just early enough that if I called it a night I wouldn't have to sleep in my truck, so I headed back.  Finally, fall has begun for me.

the end

P.S.
According to the USCG's own website the only requirement to kayak at night is a white light visible 360 degrees.

Oak Island by, Uncle Steve

M

ec

han

ical

break

down stall

ed fishing Oc 

tober in the sedge(s), 

what could have been night

fishing with a dozen eels and coffee

in a can bought a two gallon gas container, sold

 one car. (Alexi's red) truck towed once and one half times

  the distance between Philadelphia, PA and Hagerstown, MD,  

still runs. There are stories within stories, everything is prequel, as

the moment when the connection breaks with the giant red drum on

the other end of the oyster razors was already a grace note on the one  

song which is all once and ever known before, between, after life and death.

4 fishing days NC locations:

Fort fisher park, 

Carolina state park,
(Cape Fear River) 

snows cut, 

myrtle grove sound, 

Carolina beach inlet, 

Varnumtown, 

mouth of the Lockwoods Folly, 

and the ICW. 

fish Camp (Carolina State park) supplies:

Coffee

Bread

Butter

lemons

Seasoning

apples

Granola bars

party mix

Dylan Thomas "Selected Poems"

Fish basket

Onion

 chicken drumsticks 

pork

corn

canned beans

Breakfast sausage

Fish species:

Speckled sea trout

Red drum

Bluefish

Southern flounder

Lizardfish

Pinfish

Lures:
Bass Assassin.

Raccoons move into camp first night

Alexi has to fight for bread

Hobie steering broken

Starter feared broken

Paranoia takes hold

truck has to be left on most of the time
Remember: don't turn it off
Remember: left is right and right is left

We meet an Austrian born woman who was a translator during WW2 who's

5 sons live on mars extracting minerals etc.

The locals tell us fishing has been bad.

The End

"I Hope for nothing, I fear nothing, I am free" Nikos Kazantzakis' epitaph, (2nd annual Janes Island Birthday bash) by Alexi

The characters: Myself, Wendy, Steve, Janessa, Mom, Dad, Jon, Ari, Elias, and Maisy.

The setting: Janes Island State Park, mid September 2017

The thing is, it was my second annual Janes Island birthday bash.  Last year Jon had caught his biggest striper.  I wasn't sure how that was going to be topped.  Steve and I had arrived days before everyone else.  We found fish in the usual spots.  However, we also noticed that we were catching more keeper sized Specs than last year.

Limited out on Specs (Fish cleaning station at Janes Island)

They were mostly caught in 4 feet of water on bass assassins, so when the rest of the company showed up and wanted to fish we figured this was a pretty sure bet for a plan to get folks on some fish.

   We had a good first full day, and for our second full day we decided to head down to the end of the DelMarVa peninsula to the Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tulnnel, AKA CBBT for  big Redfish. Apparently that's the thing to do,and it's what we did, and we were skunked.  It was mostly pleasant despite the torrential downpour and the 6 mile paddle. I say it was mostly pleasant because quite a variety of species besides that which was targeted were caught; croaker, toadfish, squid, black seabass, and spot.

Toad Fish

I re-used this Croaker as bait

calm CBBT sunset

Back up at Janes Island

The Party Arrived

classic camping party

Here is a still life of our arsenal of lures in the back bays:

As you can see, the Spook Jr (the chartruese oval lure in the middle) is missing its rear hook, and has a bigger treble on the front.  I was tired of hooking small bass with two trebly hooks, and really only didn't hook up once or twice the whole trip because of this switch.  (I may do this to all of my Spooks.)  We didn't really get into using the BKD's (the longer skinny soft plastics) until the last night of fishing, and they did well for both Spec's and Bass rigged weedless in very shallow grassy waters.  The DOA shrimp is what my dad and Jon caught their Spec on using a popping cork to keep it out of the weeds.  It was a bit of an experiment, but also tried and true by others, just not me.

Dad and his Spec

...and Ari caught his bluefish trolling a 4" Bass Asassin in the channel.

Ari and his bluefish

Fishing fishing fishing, and then there was the partying as well.

Maisy and Ari all partied out

Bits and pieces, by the end. Thats how it was.  A novel that begins with a fishing story and ends in tragedy.  Zorba, the birthday gift.  They say that it's not the catching that matters, it's the fishing, and I think that is the same sentiment that rests on Kazantakis' (the author of Zorba the greek, it's also a good movie, watch it) gravestone, "I hope for nothing, I fear nothing, I am free", although my dad may argue that the translation may very well more accurately be, "I believe in nothing, I fear nothing, I am free." either way, as fishermen we can apply it to fishing.  So just being there is what counts.  As always, it's an excuse to float away...free

....floating in the calm blue waters of the Chesapeake Bay.  Sunken rods retrieved, and radios lost.  

Steve with one of a million Specs he caught

A million fish caught.  

Ramp at Janes Island State Park

A million stars.

The Milkyway.

And when the company left we went back to fishing our way (at least 6 hours per trip, and into the night)

And we found feeding fish before sunset.  A million fish in the Eel Grass, in inches of water.

A million sunsets.

the end

Live-Lining for Fluke (AKA Summer Flounder), by Alexi

"Excuse me, do you have a snapper zapper?"

We're at Dick's Sporting Goods.  The guy working the fishing department looks like he's 12 but he's probably 18.  He doesn't know what I'm talking about, so I look around and find a snapper zapper and show it to him, and explain what it is.  Usually Dicks does NOT have the things you need, but this time, just this once, they did!

Ari and Elias (my nephews)  and I slayed the snapper blues in Snake Ditch at the Sedge Islands last week.

To fish with live bait can be tricky.  Especially if you're catching it.  First you need confidence that your bait of choice is easily accessible:

( from a previous trip)

Elias with a snapper

Ari with a snapper

paddle paddle paddle

...and so it was...


.....then you go back without the gremlin munchkins nephews:


I met Steve there. (at the Sedge Islands, IBSP, NJ)  He had done an overnight and had caught millions of short bass on Fly ( But really it might have just been three or four.)

first of many short fluke in snake ditch

We had made radio contact early on, but I was having success in Snake Ditch and he was having success in Oyster Creek Channel, so for most of the day we just chatted on the radio occasionally.  If you were on 68 you might have heard us.  We say such stupid things.

 "I'm in the washing machine" Perchman
"What?"  Castro
"The boat wakes are enormous" Perchman
"I've caught a million shorts"  Castro
etc.....


Before this day I had never successfully caught a fluke live lining snappers.  I didn't bring my bait bucket.  My plan was to catch and live line, then catch another, and there were so many snappers around this plan worked out just fine.

On previous attempts this had happened:

half of a snapper from the great bay trip

And so that got me thinking, whatever chopped this in half would have eaten the whole thing if given the chance. So, this time around I was going to keep my thumb on the spool, bail open, and let the fish take tons of line.

It worked:

nice day in Snake Ditch

23" Fluke on live snapper blue

23"blue on bluefish snapper

Barnegat Inlet fishing

snappers were at the rocks (and everywhere)

I ended up with two keeper Fluke and a Blue, all on live Snapper Bluefish and a single circle hook.  All fish were hooked in the corner of the mouth, and very well hooked.  There is really nothing like letting a fish take line, waiting as long as humanly possible, then engaging the reel, and hoping that the weight on the other end stays.  Because there is that moment, when you feel the weight, and even fight the fish, but it's just holding on to your bait and it lets go...

test one two, radio check, By A Alexi

It's dark.

Perchman

The sounds of the late ends of a party are in the not too far distance.  It's close enough to smell the cheap cigars and whisky, but far enough away not to be able to discern any of the cheap conversation.  The conversation is punctuated by bouts of laughter, a clear giveaway that the party is in its dying stages.  My thoughts - ' just go home or go to bed so I can fish that light by your dock without being engaged in conversation!'

I can just imagine how it would go too.  It always starts with the dumbest question, "catch anything?"  or "what are you fishing for?"


I fish at night.
Some folks see us and turn off their lights.

23" summer bass south jersey

The sound of my line unfurling pierces through the din of the breeding gulls.  Because every thing is a sound at night.

How far is that bank?  Listen to the birds using it as a breeding ground!

How far is that bridge, listen to the cars crossing it.

Where did my cast go?  I didn't hear it land in the water, that means it's on the dock...I hope I'm not snagged...I'm snagged..I have to blow up this fishing spot to un-snag my bass assassin....................shit

fish pooping leader

Not hooking into these fish.
Why?
It's still too early
Thats' s the theory.

I'll say it all night, at what point is it no longer "too early?"

There's a boat that looks lost.

But, we did catch fish.  Fishing the lights is a frustrating kind of fishing.  When you can SEE with your own eyes, at night nonetheless, when you can really see not much of anything else but varying red and white lights flashing in the distance of an unknown variable, when that is the case, but really you can clearly see the shape and form and motion of a 30+ inch striped bass in the middle of the Summer in New Jersey where by all accounts they should not be...when this is indeed happening, and the shooting stars are magnificent...when  all of this is happening, and you say to yourself,  'IF I CAN JUST MAKE THIS PERFECT CAST...AND YOU DO!!!

15" summer striper

BUT you just don't connect, over and over and over again.  And you come up with some good theories about the moon, and the current, and the
bait...and in the end you connect with a 15"
 striper.

they turn off their lights

That's OK, you're fishing the lights at night, and the party is over, and the lights are all off, there are many comfortable things to sleep on floating in the water, as if they were made for you to take a rest there, but ultimately you decide to engage reality.  You drive on the highway back to the city for morning rush hour, to see them go to work, to try to sleep a little before what turns out to be a very busy week, at least you got to go fishing.

The End.