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.

Another crappy striper report, fishing by feeling, and a good surfcasting podcast with Jerry Audet.

I’m really not in a bad mood about it, but yeesh! I have been getting my butt kicked in the salt since June. Granted, it’s been a trip here, a trip there. Wednesday night I fished a top-secret mark with surfcaster extraordinaire Toby Lapinski. We both agreed that it looked fishy as hell: moon going behind a cloud bank for good, light winds making just the right amount of chop, falling barometer, moving tide, and….no bait. What?!? No legions of silversides? No juvenile menhaden? Toby managed a few courtesy bumps and a husky 8-10lb bluefish; all I could muster was a lightning fast double-blip hit that I suspect was a smaller blue. We only gave it 90 minutes, but we just weren’t feeling it.

Which brings us to the second part of this post. Dennis Zambrotta wrote that when he fishes the west side beaches of Block Island, he gives a mark 10 casts or so and then moves on. I don’t have any hard and fast rules like that, other than when I’m fishing by feeling, I get into a yeah or nay mindset. And on this night, the nays were screaming out loud. I was the one who formally called it, and Toby later confessed that he was ready to leave even before that. I guess when you reach a certain level, and have a certain familiarity with a mark and its patterns, you’re either feeling it or you’re not. Maybe if we stayed another hour, we’d have gotten into some fish. We did agree that if fellow surfcaster extraordinaire Jerry Audet was with us, he’d still be out there.

Jerry is a wonderful example of an angler with a plan. He knows who he is and how he wants to fish and he does it with consistently great results. You could learn a lot from a guy like Jerry — even if you never pick up a spinning rod — and a good place to start is last month’s Anglers Journal Podcast, Surfcasting With Jerry Audet. Give it a listen. Take notes. Appreciate his knowledge and passion.

Even if you’re inclined to get the hell off the reef and get to bed before 2am.

Finally(!) on the striper board

I can’t remember the last time it was this late in the season when I took my first striper. It hasn’t been for lack of trying; although, to be fair, this was also the first year in eons that I did not partake in the mouth of the Housatonic in April Bass-O-Matic. When the moment came, all was in line with universe: Rock Island flatwing, herring nervously milling about, greased line swing with a floating line, the hammering strike of a bass feeding with confidence. Though our session was only 90 minutes, we (surfcaster extraordinaire Toby Lapinski and I) got into about a dozen slot and sub-slot fish between us. And, as the herring run winds down, I begin to notice that the grass shrimp swarm time is approaching…

As the clock ticked past midnight, it suddenly became my 22nd wedding anniversary. I usually do well when I fish on my anniversary. And to ensure the event was celebrated properly, I chose a Padron Anniversario Series for my late night smoke. (Photo by Toby Lapinski)

Striper Report 9/15/22: On the hunt for big bass with Toby Lapinski

Last night I was treated to a few hours of striper fishing with surfcaster extraordinaire Toby Lapinski. We fished a top-secret mark on Long Island Sound where there’s no public access (Toby has permission from the landowner, God bless him). Conditions were perfect, with a very light breeze out of the northwest. The air temp was decidedly cooler than the water, which was about 75 degrees.

Right away, I liked the spot. It’s a rocky reef where the incoming tide sweeps over the cobble and boulders from left to right. The tide was already moving when we arrived, and it wasn’t long before the current became quite pronounced. I started off with a team of two JV menhaden patterns, and about a half dozen casts in I had my first hit of the evening. It was a quick bump that felt like a small fish. Unfortunately, this was to become a pattern; I had dozens and dozens of these quick tugs, but was unable to get a hook set.

To make matters worse, my two-handed casting was rusty and I discovered that my two fly team had become irreparably tangled. Since I was feeling lazy, I clipped the dropper section and tied on a larger fly on the now 4-foot leader.

I had a few more bumps, but meanwhile, Toby was slaying them on plugs, especially his needlefish. I swapped out the deer-hair head contraption I was fishing for a “Sand Eel Punt” (basically an Eel Punt with sand eel-thin saddles) in Block Island Green. Finally, I connected with an 8-pound bass. That was my only fish landed of the evening. As my action slowed, Toby continued to pound up bass, albeit not in the size range we were hoping for. As the moon rose, the bite began to taper off.

The winning fly from last night, the “Sand Eel Punt.” I’m going to try this with some more substantial saddles.

Some observations: I can’t remember the last time I had so many hits that didn’t convert to hooksets. It was almost as if the stripers were afraid to commit to the fly; certainly some of those nips were from smaller bass. I can’t blame it stripping the fly right out of their mouths; any movement I was creating was no faster than about 1 foot-per-two-seconds, and I was doing plenty of greased line swinging. With the two-hander, I was able to cover far more water; however, when the bite was on, I had many hits when I only made casts of 50 feet or so. Lastly, why did Toby catch so many more fish than me? Was he covering more water? Was it the action or shape of his plugs? The depth he was fishing? Did my shorter leader have an influence? Why were Toby’s hits more demonstrative than mine? All stuff I’m trying to figure out today.

Currently on the vise: Squirmy Wormy Jiggy Thingy

It’s a Squirmy Worm. It’s a jig nymph. It’s a shameful fly. It’s all of the above, and I love it.

This fly comes from Toby Lapinski — who first showed it to me on a small stream outing in December. The brookies went nuts for it. Toby tells me he riffed off similar patterns, added a collar for added contrast, et voila! You have this horrible wonderfulness. I’m going to try jigging this with a soft hackle dropper above it on some small streams this spring. I would also think this pattern will drive steelhead out of their tiny minds.

This is a simple tie. You need a jig hook (12-14), chartreuse tungsten bead (1/8″), pink worm material (Toby uses Hareline Caster’s Squirmito) and some black peacock Ice Dub.

“Early Season Tactics: Hunting Transition Trout” in the current issue of The Fisherman

Like the title says, you can find my latest piece in the March 2021 issue of The Fisherman magazine. Early Season Tactics: Hunting Transition Trout is about the rough patch of fishing we face in the next month or so. It’s loaded with useful strategies and tactics to help you catch more fish, and includes a guest appearance from UpCountry Sportfishing‘s Torrey Collins. You can read the article here.

Quality content like this usually isn’t free; The Fisherman is kind enough to allow public access to the article. Why not support them with a subscription? You can do that here. Many thanks to my editor, Toby Lapinski, for giving me the opportunity to write about fly fishing subjects that matter.

You can read about how I caught this gorgeous creature in the article. Photo by Toby Lapinski.

“Stacking The Deck: The Little Things” in the current issue of The Fisherman magazine.

Many thanks to The Fisherman magazine New England Region Editor Toby Lapinski for giving this piece a home. This was originally intended to be part of my series of “Little Things” articles in American Angler. But with that pub’s demise, I’m happy to call The Fisherman its new home. “Stacking the Deck: The Little Things” continues the theme of seemingly insignificant things that can have a huge impact on your fishing success. Stay tuned as there will be more from me in future issues of The Fisherman.

“Stacking The Deck: The Little Things” can be found in the February 2021 issue of The Fisherman or online here.

Best of 2020 #9: Contributing to DZ’s upcoming Block Island book

As more and more fly fishing magazines wither and die, I find myself looking for new ways to contribute to the ancient art of print. (I have some exciting ideas that I may announce in 2021.) Sometimes those opportunities materialize seemingly out of nowhere. Like when Toby Lapinski asked me to contribute to The Fisherman magazine (new articles coming in 2021). Or when Dennis Zambrotta asked me to write a fly fishing chapter for his followup to Surfcasting Around The Block. As it turns out, I may be writing a couple pieces. I love Block. I love Dennis’ first book. And I’m loving writing for the followup. (Here’s the original post in case you missed it.)

I love all striped bass, but there is something wondrous about holding one in the sacred waters of Block Island.

A (Fairly) Good Day for the Five-Weight

Today was tidal creek stomping day with Toby Lapinski, he armed with his light spinning gear and me with my trusty five-weight. The wind was a bit of an issue for me — as was casting room — but once I reacquainted myself with the nuances of casting a three-fly team with a 9-weight line on the 5-weight rod, everything was jake. We hit two marks on the incoming tide. One was a total blank, and the other produced for both of us. Nothing large, but enough to put a nice bend in our rods. It sure didn’t feel like December.

In these politically charged times, here’s something we can all agree on.

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This one didn’t make it. We saw scores of dead bunker, especially at the second mark. Many had bird wounds (post mortem?). Apparently there was a substantial fall invasion of these crazy menhaden.

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You’ll experience fewer tangles with a three-fly team if you slow down your stroke and open your loop a bit. Photo courtesy of Toby Lapinski.

Mini striper report 9/25/20: spotty but promising

I fished with Toby Lapinski last night — make that very early this morning — at a top secret location in eastern CT. (Toby is the Managing Editor of the New England Edition of The Fisherman magazine. Look for some stuff from yours truly in that pub coming soon!) Toby was spinning and I was flying. I love that combination because of the instant feedback it provides both anglers, and last night the response was: up the spin guy, down the long rod. I didn’t get a touch. Toby, who was fishing a variety of surface plugs and soft plastics, had a few bumps, an unfortunate bluefish lure removal, and a nice 20-pounder. The action was sporadic and sparse, leading us to conclude that Toby’s encounters were with lone wolves rather than any pods of fish moving through. To be continued this fall…

I pride myself in my photography, but let’s face it: this shot sucks. In the heat of the moment, both photographer and camera screwed the pooch. As always, we strive for a quick, striper friendly release, photo op be damned, so by the time I figured out the issue we could only manage this blurry disaster. Try to imagine 30-something inches of piggy striper swimming away. Please.