Last week's doldrums had me convinced that the rest of my season would be spent on Route 3, running down to harry the last of the Cape Cod bass.
I stopped off for a major schoolie blitz at 3rd cliff on the way to work this morning, and just came in from a wicked good time with Adam at the infamous hotspot.
We tried the Rivermoor spit first, but it was deader than Elvis under a howling wind. When that spot is dead it's best not to flog it. So we charted a course for Plymouth, but said "why don't we hit that infamous lighted dock on the way". Fish were breaking when we arrived and kept it up for the 2 hours that we fished it. Dozens and dozens of schoolies. Adam even let me catch the only shad [and it was a big one for a hickory!].
I fished a tandem rig and had multiple doubles, once with two of the larger 20" fish [most were more like 16"] that felt like one big one for a while.
All prior naysaying, gloom and doom, and general mope-mouthedness on my part is hereby rescinded, nullified and void. They're still here.
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