Artificial Intelligence

I love everything about American eels. They are arguably the most effective and versatile bait when targeting striped bass. Many a book chapter, magazine article, and blog post have been written about their ability to entice stripers into gulping them down like candy. An eel was responsible for my largest bass ever landed and I’m sure the same can be said by countless anglers up and down the Striper Coast. 

For a long time now, lure makers have been trying to, with varying levels of success, duplicate the American eel’s shape, suppleness, and action. I have been fishing eels in nearly every fashion possible for as long as I can remember and don’t plan on giving them up entirely anytime soon. All that said, they are expensive, can be a pain to deal with, and are sadly becoming scarcer as the years tick by.  

Companies like Lunker City, Hogy, RonZ, Al Gag’s, Berkley were some of the OGs of my early days of fishing eel imitations, and they still make great baits today. However, it’s been intriguing to witness the arms race of long, slender soft-plastics come to market over the last 20 years. By names like Got Stryper, Game On!, Fish Snax Lures, JoeBaggs, Zinger Baits, and Gravity Tackle to name a few. There are limitless combinations of size, color, and rigging options available to today’s angler for nearly any situation they could encounter. So much so the choices can be overwhelming.

Over time, I have been building up my arsenal of soft-plastics and my confidence in using them. I am starting to find more consistency in my success and part of that can be attributed to selecting the right bait and rigging style to match the spot and its conditions on a given outing. Like in every kind of fishing that I do, it has been a fun, never ending journey of learning. The farther down this rabbit hole I go, the more I realize how much there is still to learn, explore, and experiment.

We’re on a loop. Enjoy the ride.

The author with a healthy striped bass that fell for a 13.5" GT eel rigged on a 1/2 oz. jig head. 

The Fall Classic

We are witnessing an exceptional 'fall run' in Long Island Sound by any measure. Fueled by incredible numbers of peanut bunker, there are birds wheeling over blitzing fish nearly every time I drive by the beach. A few feeds I have been fortunate to experience looked right out of a "Blue Planet" episode. It's been one of those stretches that part of me wishes I was 20 years younger without a real job, family, or any kind of responsibility for that matter. I'm thankful my local waters have been full of life this fall and I hope we can count on another one like this next year. 

 

Autumn Action

With fall flying by and Christmas commercials already airing, the time is now to make those last saltwater trips before another winter sets in. As a devout Red Sox fan, much of my October was spent glued to a television set instead of on the water, but I managed to sneak in a few outings in the midst of an unforgettable MLB postseason. A couple of weeks ago, my friend Captain Mike Roy of Reel Cast Charters invited me on a predawn excursion in western Long Island Sound. Usually our trips together involve late nights out east, so getting up early and staying local was a nice change of pace. The plan was to take his boat to some spots we typically surf fish from and throw eels until sun up, which would signal the time to switch over to lures for a chance at surface action. But you know what they say about best laid plans...

Right after launching the boat, we were treated to telltale signs of bunker slapping the surface and snagged a half dozen to put in Mike's live well for good measure. We then motored out of the harbor and stuck to our game plan, but little did we know that we'd be back to the same spot an hour later desperately searching for more of the oily baitfish. After casting eels and top-water lures came up fruitless, Mike threw out a lively bunker to see what was what. It didn't take long for his bait to do a nervous dance on the surface, followed by the unmistakable crash of a striped bass engulfing it. That was all I needed to make the switch over to live bunker and the same sequence of events happened to me only moments later. It was lock and load for the next half hour with stripers up to 23-pounds making short work of our limited bait supply. After running out of bunker, we changed back over to eels trying to duplicate the results, but the fish were keyed in on something we didn't have anymore. So the executive decision was made to hurry back to the harbor, snag more bait and pray the bite was still going upon our return. 

By now the sun was high in the sky and boat traffic had increased significantly, so the bunker were much harder to find the second time around. We were lucky to snag six more for the live well, returned to the scene as fast as we could and immediately experienced the same results, except the bass were exchanged for giant bluefish, the biggest we both had caught in years. They were incredibly thick and strong, putting up amazing fights and pulling the scale down to the 15-pound mark! After the wave of blues, a few bass toyed with the last of our bunker and when the tide died the bite died, and it was finally time to switch gears.

It's hard to admit, but I had never fished for blackfish from a boat before so a trip of this kind was way overdue. Mike had a bucket of Asian grabs that he collected at low tide a few days earlier and we anchored at one of his favorite shallow water rock piles and it was lights out action until we had our fill. There were plenty of short fish mixed in, but we managed our limit of keepers and had a blast doing it. Tautog fight like bulldogs and you really have to horse them off the rocky bottom before getting broken off or snagged. I can only imagine what catching a double digit-sized one must feel like after the fights these "small" four and five pounders put up. Mike already had enough meat in his freezer, so I took all the fillets home for the family and cooked it the next night to the delight of everyone at the table. It was a delicious meal that was fun and relatively easy to catch. The combination of landing striped bass and giant bluefish on live bunker followed by a hot blackfish bite made for an incredibly memorable fall day on the water--one that I'll surely look back on when I'm sitting in an ice hut this winter waiting for flags to pop. 

Confidence

Every angler has certain offerings that he or she is partial to; the first ones out of their box, bag or bucket on any given outing. Plain and simple, fishermen catch more fish when they're confident in what's on the business end of their line. Whether it's a live eel, a favorite fly or a plug dripping with mojo, it pays to believe in what you're casting. To build up that confidence, anglers must experiment. After all, you'll never catch fish on something if you don't give it the old college try once in a while.

A popular artificial lure that I have always lacked confidence in is the bucktail. Simple in design, it consists of a lead jig head with a single hook and ample deer hair tied around it. For added action and to lengthen the profile, it's usually tipped with a strip of pork rind or soft plastic. One of the cool things about the bucktail is that it can be used to target a wide array of species in both fresh and saltwater, but I'm most interested in their deception of striped bass. Despite the fact that there have been countless articles and books written about the art of jigging, and that bucktails have most likely accounted for more stripers than any other lure out there,  they still haven't played a prominent role in my surf game. Thankfully, I'm slowly starting to change that.

I wish I had a good reason as to why I haven't utilized bucktails more in my local fishing. It's mostly because the surfcasters I learned from on my home waters of Long Island Sound just didn't fish them all that much. Yet as soon as I branched out to places like the Cape Cod Canal, Rhode Island breachways, or the south shore of Long Island, I began to see how standard they were among surf fishermen, and for good reason too. All the aforementioned destinations have at least one thing in common, strong current. Bucktail jigs excel in places with current and any surfcaster worth their weight in salt will tell you that striped bass love moving water; it's like a conveyor belt for their meals.

While I've always carried various sizes and colors of jigs in my plug bag, in the last few seasons I've made a point of actually using them. The spring herring run in Connecticut tidal rivers provides optimal jigging opportunities as bucktails offer a close representation to this slender baitfish and there is no shortage of current to work them in. Sort of like nymphing in a trout stream, an angler must match the speed of the water with a properly weighted jig. In one highwater instance this past spring, a half ounce made all the difference between a skunking and a decent outing. That day I only had jigs in my bag up to two ounces, yet two and half to three ounce jigs were scoring the stripers stacked in a rip like cordwood. Thankfully a friend lent me a bucktail in the magic size that put me on the board. I still owe Paul a cold beer.

 

There was another time this spring when I was lucky to find a popular jigging spot nearly void of other anglers. The fact that it was a rainy weekday helped thin the crowd. I held down a prime position with another caster and we worked in tandem tossing our bucktails upstream in the whitewater, then letting the current swing them downstream with occasional twitches of our rod tips. The first hit I got was unmistakable, almost ripping the rod right out of my hands as the ripping current made this 16-pound bass feel twice its weight. After a quick photo and release, my very next cast was met with an identical fate, a jarring hit from another teen-sized striper almost as soon as the bucktail hit the water. It's outings like these that quickly build confidence in angler's offerings and presentations. Now I have to take my newly acquired jigging confidence and apply it outside of tidal rivers into the open surf. Baby steps, people.



Out Front

It felt good to break free from the tidal rivers on Monday evening and fish the open Sound for my first time this season. I was aboard my buddy Mike's boat of Reel Cast Charters. He'd been on a solid bite for a week leading up to our trip, with catches including striped bass up to 32-pounds and two elusive weakfish. It was shaping up to be a gorgeous night as we launched in the western Sound around dinner time. We made a B-line to a popular weakfish spot to try for a unicorn and saw a couple dozen casters lining the shoreline. I have never caught a squeteague before and, while reports this year have been better than the last few, my luck wouldn't change on this outing either. Instead my first several bluefish of the season jumped all over the metal spoons and plastic swimmers that were intended for a more prized catch. Nonetheless, it was still fun to have the toothy critters back on the scene.

Once the we had our fill of the blues, we shot out to deeper water and focused on throwing top-water lures around rocky structure. Mike had a boil on his spook right away so we knew there were fish around. We kept at it for a while and he finally stuck a nice bass right before dark. The nearly 20-pound striper fought very well and was incredibly clean and bright having just made its way in from the Atlantic Ocean.

Once the sun went down, we switched tactics and began drifting eels along the same structure. The wind and tide combination created a quick drift and we both missed some strikes while adjusting to it. Mike boated a few smaller keeper-sized bass and I struggled but enjoyed every second of it. We knew there were a lot more bass around than we were catching because we could hear them popping on small bait on the surface. After a while of no love with the live eels, I downsized to a slender swimming plug and drew a hit on my first cast. A short while later I nabbed my first striped bass of the season outside of a tidal river.

Losing the tide, we made a few more passes before heading back to the launch through a thick blanket of fog. I've been in fog like that before, but not always at night. It really dawned on me how crucial good electronics are to a boat captain in situations like those. And like someone flipped a light switch, poof!--the fog was gone as soon as we entered the harbor. Regardless of my subpar fishing performance, it was an awesome night on the water. It sure felt good to have the salt spray on my face again after a long winter. Here's to a great and safe season ahead!

Game On!

May(hem)

Atlantic menhaden have once again made their way into Long Island Sound and are finding themselves pinned in harbors and tidal rivers by striped bass and bluefish that are getting fatter by the night. This happens every year in late May and I find it hard to fish with anything else when bunker are here in impressive numbers. Snagging the prized baitfish and chunking a fresh head piece is one of the most effective methods for big bass and blues out there. Our last few trips have produced stripers in the low 20-pound class and feisty yellow-eyed demons up to 12-pounds. During a recent wave of action, we had a triple hook-up of bluefish over the 10-pound mark. Their initial drag-peeling runs and shallow water acrobatics made for some wild times, yet their razor-sharp teeth haven taken a toll on our tackle!  Hopefully the bunker schools stick around for a while and some larger stripers join the party!

Buckle Up

Every angler has their priorities and right now my priority is striped bass from the surf. Big bait and ensuing stripers are showing up in full force across the region. The next month or two should offer some of the best surfcasting of the year. Thankfully I got my fill of trout fishing in this spring because I may not be stream-side for a while. Here are some recent captures of Marone saxatilis from our local Connecticut waters. Buckle up for a long season!

Sunset Blues

If there was ever a perfect time to be boat fisherman, it is during the dog days of summer when the relentless heat has most striped bass and bluefish hanging in deeper water. Surf fishing has been brutal as of late around here, so when a friend asked if I was up for a boat ride after work I jumped at the chance. 

Pods of bunker have been getting slashed by bluefish not far to our east, with striped bass underneath cleaning up the mess. As we approached a known bunker hangout, two boats boats were drifting with their own pod of the nervous baitfish. Big blues were cutting through balls of bait, sending bunker leaping out of the water left and right. An all-out massacre was going on and the sound of thousands of bunker moving in unison to avoid a sudden attack was intense. We picked a school and proceeded to snag and live-line them. As soon as a bunker was hooked and tossed back into the thick of things, it was instantly ripped to shreds. The only time we weren't catching was when the boat drifted too far from the chaos, and then we'd just motor back into position again. For an hour and a half this went on right until last light. While we didn't land any bass, one unlucky bunker came back to the boat mangled and lacking teeth marks--a sure sign that it had been crunched by a striper. It didn't much matter; with a bloody boat and a smiling crew, the hard fighting bluefish were were more than enough to keep us content.

Earn Your Stripes

Each April, like clockwork, a local river mouth attracts holdover, school-sized striped bass and the hordes of anglers trying to fool them. During last night's excursion we almost missed both, almost. We arrived to a virtually empty parking lot and when I opened the Jeep door, I found out why.  The wind was blowing something serious out of the southwest right in our teeth. The only other angler there was packing up, stating the wind was just too much to deal with and he suggested we try to find a spot upstream out of the elements. That was out of the question though and into the darkness we went. 

The last three times I have taken my younger brother fishing, we got skunked...badly.  I was nervous he was starting to think my fish stories were exactly that, just stories. Well after building him up for a few days about our upcoming striper outing, his excitement and confidence were high. Of course Mother Nature had to step in and throw a little wrench into the plan. The wind made it difficult to stay in contact with his offering, a Yozuri Mag Darter, but he soon got the hang of it and was making quality drifts in no time. After about an hour of casting and retrieving, his rod bent over as a feisty striper whacked his plug. The outgoing tide and strong river current added to the fight, and a shit-eating grin spread across his face. I don't know who was more pumped when he lipped his first-ever linesider - but it was a great experience for us both.

Garrett's first striped bass!