RIBill
10-14-2001, 07:54 AM
The Bay continues to produce nicely. A shroud of morning fog limited my (gps-less) mobility. I launched at Allen Hbr. and targeted the Quonset area. The birds were as limited by the fog as I was, and if there was any surface feeding going on in the early hours, they weren't helping me to find it.
Heading south, as I rounded the Davisville pier and entered Frye's Cove, the fishfinder lit up pretty well with clouds of bait and some gamefish. However, as all the markings were down 20' or more in 30' of water, it didn't bode well for flyrod or light-action gear. I went to an 9er-type umbrella rig on leadcore and spent the next hour or so trolling the length of the pier. After a 6# blue on the first drift, it was all schoolies of 20" or so. It was a good time, and not being much of a "troller", it was gratifying to see that gear produce so well on those deep fish.
I was anxious to check out the water off the Quonset runway. Depths along the bulwarks run 8-15' and often produce well on flygear or light spin gear. I only got as far as the sandy point at the NE corner of the airport. The conditions were a "fall classic": the NE wind was blowing 1-2' seas into the beach and any bait heading south on this morning outgoing was pinned in tight. The local gulls confirmed the action, wheeling over telltale splashes. I drifted a cast-and-a-half off the beach, and hurried a cast with a sassyshad into a boil and had an immediate hook-up. The bass were in there in 3' of water.
I released the 22" schoolie, and circled back for another drift. I was anxious for flyrod action and tied on a white deceiver. However, solo in the boat, I was like a one-armed paperhanger, and it didn't take long for me to get into trouble. The seas on this windward shore, and a tangle or two in the flyline, had me back on the spinrod.
I tied on a home-made wooden popper and retrieved it against the wind, tide and waves and it called in a bass on nearly every cast. The sizes varied from 18" - 27". After a bunch of drifts and having put the fish down, I wheeled out to the main shipping channel and joined other boats and birds that were chasing busting fish. It was a fool's game, however, as the fish were up and down like spooked bonito. After I felt that the sandy point fish had been sufficiently rested, I headed back and, again, found splashes and boils.
I took a few more fish before tangling with "the fish that keeps you coming back". This fish was in 2-3' of water. It was a big fish, its gulps and swirls were easily audible above the wind and waves. Having had mastery over the other bass with my popper, this fish toyed with it. She swirled on it and slapped it suspiciously, seemingly unwilling to commit. On several wallows, the flank of the fish was exposed, the stripes were broad and dark. Finally the take: the line came tight and the "trout rod" doubled over. But only for a moment, as the 12# line parted. I exhaled... defeated. I shook my head with the image of that popper hanging off her lip. But, as oftens happens, the plug bobbed to the surface. And then, the coup de gras: that bass or a schoolmate of similar dimensions surged on the bobbing plug and took it down again. ahhhh man!!! but again, it floated up. I left it floating, and hoping for another shot at these fish, I cirlced up-drift. The Fishing Gods had had their laugh, however, and the last two fish, hurriedly boated as nuisances, topped out at 22". I pounded that shore trying to re-connect with that pod of larger fish, but they were gone. I got the message the Fish Gods were sending, and headed home, happy with what they'd allowed me.
Don't let anybody tell you the fishing is over. The schools of peanut bunker in Greenwich Harbor are smaller than in recent years, but each bait is a meal of 5" or so. Those baits will head south and are sure to excite some activity. Tight lines.
Heading south, as I rounded the Davisville pier and entered Frye's Cove, the fishfinder lit up pretty well with clouds of bait and some gamefish. However, as all the markings were down 20' or more in 30' of water, it didn't bode well for flyrod or light-action gear. I went to an 9er-type umbrella rig on leadcore and spent the next hour or so trolling the length of the pier. After a 6# blue on the first drift, it was all schoolies of 20" or so. It was a good time, and not being much of a "troller", it was gratifying to see that gear produce so well on those deep fish.
I was anxious to check out the water off the Quonset runway. Depths along the bulwarks run 8-15' and often produce well on flygear or light spin gear. I only got as far as the sandy point at the NE corner of the airport. The conditions were a "fall classic": the NE wind was blowing 1-2' seas into the beach and any bait heading south on this morning outgoing was pinned in tight. The local gulls confirmed the action, wheeling over telltale splashes. I drifted a cast-and-a-half off the beach, and hurried a cast with a sassyshad into a boil and had an immediate hook-up. The bass were in there in 3' of water.
I released the 22" schoolie, and circled back for another drift. I was anxious for flyrod action and tied on a white deceiver. However, solo in the boat, I was like a one-armed paperhanger, and it didn't take long for me to get into trouble. The seas on this windward shore, and a tangle or two in the flyline, had me back on the spinrod.
I tied on a home-made wooden popper and retrieved it against the wind, tide and waves and it called in a bass on nearly every cast. The sizes varied from 18" - 27". After a bunch of drifts and having put the fish down, I wheeled out to the main shipping channel and joined other boats and birds that were chasing busting fish. It was a fool's game, however, as the fish were up and down like spooked bonito. After I felt that the sandy point fish had been sufficiently rested, I headed back and, again, found splashes and boils.
I took a few more fish before tangling with "the fish that keeps you coming back". This fish was in 2-3' of water. It was a big fish, its gulps and swirls were easily audible above the wind and waves. Having had mastery over the other bass with my popper, this fish toyed with it. She swirled on it and slapped it suspiciously, seemingly unwilling to commit. On several wallows, the flank of the fish was exposed, the stripes were broad and dark. Finally the take: the line came tight and the "trout rod" doubled over. But only for a moment, as the 12# line parted. I exhaled... defeated. I shook my head with the image of that popper hanging off her lip. But, as oftens happens, the plug bobbed to the surface. And then, the coup de gras: that bass or a schoolmate of similar dimensions surged on the bobbing plug and took it down again. ahhhh man!!! but again, it floated up. I left it floating, and hoping for another shot at these fish, I cirlced up-drift. The Fishing Gods had had their laugh, however, and the last two fish, hurriedly boated as nuisances, topped out at 22". I pounded that shore trying to re-connect with that pod of larger fish, but they were gone. I got the message the Fish Gods were sending, and headed home, happy with what they'd allowed me.
Don't let anybody tell you the fishing is over. The schools of peanut bunker in Greenwich Harbor are smaller than in recent years, but each bait is a meal of 5" or so. Those baits will head south and are sure to excite some activity. Tight lines.