Tag Archives: stripers on the fly

Currentseams Best of 2024 #4-#2

#4: The Edison Fly Fishing Show. I love being a part of all of the Fly Fishing Shows, but there was something about this year’s Edison show that particularly struck my fancy. I think it’s because I reconnected with so many old friends, strengthened some newer friendships, and had some really good first-time meetings. I gave away and traded a bunch of flies. My classes drew well, and I had some impressive crowds for my talks. Oh. I also bought stuff — some I wanted, some I needed, all of it putting a smile on my face. If you came to see me speak or if you took one of my classes, thank you again. And did I mention the wine party and my take-out run to Shanghai Dumpling? See you next month!

If we were kids in school, the teacher might have to separate us…

#3: The Best Striper of the Year an Hour Into my First Trip. After I caught and released her, I considered staying to fish some more. But I knew that it wasn’t going to get any better than this wonderful 25-pound fish. The experience made such an impact that I ended up writing a story about it, “At the Intersection of Lucky and Good” for Surfcaster’s Journal. You can read it in issue #86.

I almost didn’t go that night in March. I’ve written before that while I believe that fish aren’t intelligent, the eyes of a striped bass like this one communicate a different story to me. I hope she’s still swimming.

#2: Bill’s First Steelhead. I have three sons, and they’ve all caught steelhead. Except for Bill. Number One Son went with me once about ten years ago, but the neither the weather nor the steelheading gods smiled upon us. Time went on, year after year, until it came to pass that Bill and I found ourselves standing on the banks of North Sandy Creek in the pre-dawn hours of the Monday before Thanksgiving. As I have done with my other sons, I placed Bill in the skilled hands of guide extraordinaire Row Jimmy. For over an hour, nothing. And then it happened.

Happiness is hooking and landing your first steelhead. Well done, Bill!

But first, a new article in Surfcaster’s Journal

Hot off the e-presses comes issue 86 of Surfcaster’s Journal. Within, you’ll find the latest from yours truly. It’s about a big striper I landed this year and the skill? — or luck? — maybe both? — that went into it from hook to landing. Surfcaster’s Journal is an e-zine that is worthy of your support. It’s only 20 bucks a year, and for that you get to read stuff written by some of the best striper anglers on the east coast. You can subscribe here.

The article is called “Fishing at the Intersection of Lucky and Good.” I think it’s one of the better things I’ve written.

Striper Report 9/20/23, or: The One Where Casting Distance Made All The Difference

If you fish for striped bass with a fly rod, you’re operating under an unimpeachable assumption: whatever you hook must be within close range. Fly casting range. Not practice casting on a lawn with just a fly line. I’m talking standing thigh-deep in the ocean with a line and leader and fly and waves and wind and if it’s the dark of the moon, limited vision. You might get 100 feet if you’re a tournament-level caster, or have a two-handed surf rod. For most folks in standard conditions, it’s probably 75 feet or less. If the wind is honking in your face, you might be talking well under 50.

Sometimes, distance just doesn’t matter. (The last striper I caught took the fly under a rod’s length away from me.) And sometimes, like Wednesday night, distance is everything.

I fished with surfcaster extraordinaire Toby Lapinski, and it was a tale of the tape. Toby got into a half-dozen-plus fish ranging from 5 to 15+ pounds, and I blanked. Oh, I had a few pulls from squid, a solo sharp rap, and then later, a momentary hookup. But the spelling of the word of the number of bass I landed begins with a Z. Toby was launching his wares way over 100 feet, and that’s where all the action was. I had my two-handed surf cannon with me, but I was well short of where the fish were holding and feeding. I saw one of Toby’s hookups, and it was a good 50 feet beyond what I was making. (And I was having a very good casting night, bottoming out on just about every cast.)

A cast, a mend, a slow gathering of the line, and….nothing. (Photo by Toby Lapinski)

You might think I was discouraged, but that wasn’t the case. I was delighted that Toby was getting into fish. Most of all, it served as proof that I wasn’t fishing poorly. I just couldn’t get the fly out far enough. Nobody could have. Thank goodness those nights are the exception.

Out thinking as we trudged back along the beach was to try a different, earlier stage of the tide, when the fish might be in closer. It’s all one huge science experiment, with your lab report being graded by the fish. So I’ll be looking to bump that C up to an A.

A Modest Proposal (Revisited)

A couple of years ago, I made the suggestion that given the current condition of striper stocks — stressed — and that their future depends greatly on smaller fish getting to be larger — breeder size — might it not benefit everyone if we didn’t try to catch a bajillion small stripers?

Once again, I’m revisiting that energy. Ask yourself this question: Do I really need to catch dozens and dozens of school bass at the mouth of the Hous (or wherever you go this time of year where striped bass congregate)?

I invite you to join me in observing this new, off-the-books reg: When it becomes apparent that it’s a small bass on just about every cast, reel up and stop fishing.

Catching another dozen dinks won’t make you a hero. But walking away will.

This session, from yesterday, went up to 11. Things were slow until the tide reached a certain window. Then a rip formed, and it was the Bass-O-Matic. I was tempted to go for 12, but I stopped after this fish. You can, too. Thank you for your consideration.

Striper report 10/6/21: Daytime bliss, nighttime suffering

On Wednesday Alex took a striper lesson with me. He did a fantastic job. The point of these short (2 hours) lessons is to give students feel for how to approach multiple situations involving current — and especially for them to discover the expansive fly fishing life beyond cast-and-strip. We do it in the daytime (the better to eyeball things) and while the immediate goal isn’t to catch — that will come later — I have the highest amount of respect for those who want to invest in upping their game. Alex did a tremendous job; he has an intuitive feel for current and presentation. Now all he needs is some bass to play with.

As it turns out, so do I. I drove to Rhode Island that night to fish two different marks and, once again, I was disappointed by the paucity of striped things that swim. The first mark was one of my “guaranteed” spots. You know — a place you go to save a night when you desperately need a fish. No longer. I’ve fished it three times this year, blanked all three times, and it’s the first year in decades that I have not caught a bass there. Fooey. Not to be outdone, the second mark had plenty of bait, and not a single striper. So I casted, mended, and tried to pretend that maybe a bass would show up. Instead, I stayed out way too late. I won’t be going back this year (he said bitterly).

Alex really nailed the greased line swing. What a lovely day to be out fishing.

Fish Untamed Podcast Ep 55: “Trout Fishing for Stripers with Steve Culton”

Fish Untamed is website that’s run by Katie. She is self-described as “obsessed with chasing fish” — so right away, we like her! Katie also does podcasts, and yours truly is the subject of her current offering. Or, more specifically, the broad concepts of what I call “trout fishing for stripers.” We talk about that and lots of other things. But enough rambling; you want to listen. Here’s Fish Untamed Podcast Episode 55: Trout Fishing For Stripers With Steve Culton.

A floating line, a striped bass, and a very happy angler.

Block Island Report, photo edition

Twelve stripers to hand, and not a single picture of any of them? It’s true. We’ve all seen enough cookie-cutter bass photos; the one striper that was photo-worthy escaped into the waves; and several of them were landed in very fish-photo-unfriendly conditions. So, you have to settle for this (slightly) humorous photo essay of my week on the Block. Oh! You may also learn something…

It helps to have a 4WD vehicle on Block. Some of the better fishing can be found along the dirtier of its many dirt roads.
Here’s a little lesson in scouting a new mark. This is a section of beach on the south side. I planned to fish it at high tide, so I first visited it at dead low. This gives me an opportunity to see what and where the structure is that will be covered by water. (Of course, I also visited it in daylight at the corresponding tide I’d be fishing). Also, note the tremendous drop-off between where I’m standing and the rock pile-of-a-beach lip at the left. Where I’m standing will be filled at flood, creating a trough through which stripers can cruise for bait. It also tells me two more critical pieces of information. First, I won’t have to cast far to reach viable water. And two, under no circumstances do I want to get too close to the edge, or wade into this trough. Sadly, the surf was too big for the fly rod when I actually fished it, but I believe this mark will produce bass for me in the future.
Fine, but I just caught a bass after four hours of banging all over this island, and now I’m going home to have a late night beer.
Elsa’s remnants produced some impressive surf. To give you some perspective, those waves are hundreds of feet away and well overhead high. In my experience, an approaching tropical storm/hurricane on Block can turn the bass on big time the night before (nope, didn’t happen this time) and then completly mess up the fishing the next night (yep, that did happen). To be fair, the fishing stunk all week, so it made little difference.
Electrical storms were an almost constant threat that week. Here I am keeping my eye on a system that was moving over the mainland. I’m also celebrating my only bass of the night, which is always a cigar-worthy occasion.
“Here’s to swimmin’ with bow-legged women.” I remember these retro-cans from the 70s. To Block Island: you’re a truly special place to fish.

Striper lessons

I took Don out for a striper lesson this week. Rather than give you a “Dear Diary” account, I thought I would tell you about some of the striper lessons we covered.

Cast and strip is ultimately limiting. You will catch the aggressive, willing-to-chase fish with that approach. But eventually you will encounter bass that are holding on station, feeding on a particular bait, and cast-and-strip will fail you. Learn the art of presentation. Dead drifts, greased line swings, dangles and mends — all of these will serve you well when the going gets tough. If you want to learn presentation, and you value line control, you need a floating line. Period. Find the line taper and grain weight that’s best suited to your rod, how you cast, and how you want to fish. Hint: it isn’t necessarily what’s printed on the blank. You don’t need to cast far to catch stripers. I taught Don what I call the “zero foot cast,” and by using the current, you can delivery your fly to fish over 100 feet away. When the fish are on something small, droppers are your best friend. Multiple baits mean multiple catching opportunities. And as always, droppers are the fastest way to find out what the fish want. If you want to catch more stripers, learn how to read water. Just like you do with trout. And last but not least, alway scope out a new mark in daylight so you can see what’s going on.

Don, shown working on his greased line swings and dangles, is a keen student of fly fishing. All he needs now is some cooperative stripers!

Striper mini-report 5/5/21: Last night, while you were sleeping…

…I was standing in a river, practicing my greased line swings with a floating line and a 10″ Rock Island flatwing. My casting was good enough. My presentations were spot on. The bass were…not there. At least not in any numbers. We saw some wakes and swirls made by herring, but nothing to suggest that they were present en masse. We heard a couple reports of bass crashing bait, but they were in the first 30 minutes of our 2+ hour session, and then nothing. So it goes. This is why it’s called putting in your time.

In between casts, I found my mind wandering toward Block Island: plans and schemes and hopes and dreams. I could use a striper rainbow right about now.

Striper mini-report 4/24/21: Slow she goes

Toby Lasinski and I spent a few hours Saturday night banging around the shores of LIS looking for stripers. It was a slow night, with only one fish to hand, silvery sub-slot bass that nailed Toby’s surface swimmer. Not a touch for me, fishing a Rock Island flatwing/bucktail, and then a deer hair head whatchamacallit. There’s not much for me to tell, other than I saw some new water and got in some casting practice. (OK, the company and the cigar were pretty swell, so that counts for something.) Every day is different, and at some point this slowness will surely change. At least that’s what I keep telling myself.

It felt good to taste saltwater on my fingertips. After a briny session like this, everything — rod, reel, flies — gets a good rinsing with tap water, then an air drying. Some of the water we fished reminded me of the Cape and Block Island, and I’m looking forward to fishing those places again.