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COVID lingers as we head into 2022. However, unlike the early months of 2020, there was no restriction on recreational fishing in MD in 2021. Virus precautions impacted other aspects of life, but at least we could go fishing.
I don’t know how many times I fished in 2021. Nor do I know how many fish I caught. I do know that I had a good year. Each outing provided its own satisfaction regardless of the number of fish I netted or their sizes.
In lieu of keeping precise catch records, I photograph some of the fish I hook and other things I find interesting on the water. I’ve been doing this for ten years. My photos have changed in that time. I now take more images of those “other things” than fish. It’s not that I am complacent about hooking fish. But for me, fishing is about more than catching.
WINTER
My first catch of 2021 was this bass from Ingrams Pond, DE on 4 January:
P1060244 (2).jpg
I followed that DE outing throughout January with several trips to Eastern Shore ponds, primarily to catch pickerels on the fly. They obliged on each outing. Indeed, I would take my chances with streamer flies and pickerels in the coldest months of winter against any live minnow angler fishing for them. On more than one occasion I caught picks on the fly near anglers having no luck who were trailing minnow buckets behind their kayaks or canoes. Once, a frustrated minnow caster in DE observing my success plaintively asked me what I was using for “bait”.
My February was “fishless”, the only month in 2021 in which that happened. Poor weather and family obligations prevented me from fishing. That’s why I cherish each opportunity to fish. I don’t need to keep score with fish counts to assess the merits of a day in my kayak. Getting out is the reward.
I was back on the water in March. Pickerels predominated my catches along with an occasional crappie or bass in Eastern Shore ponds. All three species will hit the same streamer flies creating anticipation and surprise each time I hooked up. I caught this March crappie on a Bendback Minnow in Smithville Lake, MD:
Mark Crappie.jpg
SPRING
Topwater fly fishing is my favorite technique. Bass, bluegills and pickerels provide steady surface action starting in mid-April. This May largemouth hit a foam popper cast tight to shore in Columbia’s Centennial Lake.
P1060347 (3).jpg
However, there was a topwater bonus in the spring of 2021. We were visited by millions of Brood X Cicadas beginning in late May. This one landed on my arm while was fishing:
P1050521 (3).jpg
At first, it disturbed me seeing them struggling on the water. The Severn River was covered with fluttering cicadas. I “rescued” many of them. I know I was interrupting the circle of life. But I had a hard time passing a drowning cicada in my kayak. I scooped up hundreds in my net and released them on shore. It was my contribution to future generations of Brood X … and to Annapolis residents who will be sweeping them from their sidewalks in 2038, 2055 and so on.
Those floundering bugs awakened sleeping giants in our waters, especially in our reservoirs. Carp, which normally patrol deep water epitomized the definition of gluttony in their cicada eating frenzies. They surfaced to consume the helpless cicadas, which was not an easy act for them given carp anatomy. The downward angle of their mouth is designed to root food from lake and river bottoms. They’re not natural topwater feeders. Some carp would porpoise out of the water and hit the cicadas on their way down. Others would turn on their sides and gently slurp in a cicada ending the insect’s short stay in the sunlight after spending 17 years underground.
My primal hunting instincts awakened. I stopped saving cicadas and started using them as decoys. This simple foam cicada imitation worked wonders in tricking carp:
IMG_4480 (2).jpg
I would cast it near a live cicada and twitch it slightly. Given a choice, a rising carp would usually hit the live cicada first. Then another carp, that was closely following the first one, would take my imitation. Sometimes, I would sight-cast a few feet in front of a cruising carp looking for a meal. That technique worked also. It was tremendous fun. Here’s one of many Triadelphia Reservoir carp that fell victim to my cicada fly:
P1050545 (4).jpg
So, I will long remember the spring of 2021 as the year of the cicada and the hungry carp that found them so tasty. This was probably my last dance with them. I’ll be 84 years old when they return.
SUMMER
In summer, I turned my attention to white perch. I caught them on minnow imitation flies and my own homemade spinner jigs. White perch never arrive soon enough. I start fishing for them in tidal creeks before the official arrival of summer. Those early June trips involve more paddling and pedaling than perch catching. By true summer, white perch populate our creeks in good numbers in predictable areas. At times, it’s hard to not catch one.
I hooked a bunch of them this year by using a small dropper fly under a foam float. On the same trips, in the same areas, some perch would hit my relatively large noisy jig spinner while some preferred a small fly dangling under a float. Go figure…In fact, I caught a striper and a pickerel with the same dropper technique.
perch flies (3).jpg
Above shows the float and dropper flies I made for this approach. Indeed, many kinds of small flies worked under the float. Non fly anglers can do the same with an ultralight spinning rod, a bobber and a fly.
Snakeheads were a summer quest that eluded me this year. I had moderate success with them in 2020 on conventional tackle and thought I had them figured out. I caught none in 2021 despite several trips dedicated specifically for snakeheads in nearby tidal creeks. I cast poppers and streamers to the edges of SAV and weedless paddletails directly into the vegetation. I had a few follows and lost a couple from the hook. No catches, though.
I delayed publication of my book, Fly by the Seat of Your Kayak, for weeks this past summer hoping to include a section on snakeheads on the fly. But I could not in good faith write it when I had never succeeded in catching one that way. Maybe 2022 is the year for me to get one on the fly.
A new species for me in 2021 was bowfins. I did not catch them with flies nor was I in my kayak, but I boated many this summer on VA’s Piankatank River using weedless soft plastics as lures. They’re not related to snakeheads but their body shape is similar and they haunt the same waters. They go absolutely crazy when hooked, jumping and spinning more than any other species I have caught.
I didn’t target or catch striped bass often in 2021. Striper stocks are down and that was one reason for my hesitancy. Nor am I a trolling enthusiast which is an efficient way to catch them. But I did cast for stripers on a handful of Eastern Shore trips, hooking mostly small fish. I caught only 4 or 5 legal stripers this year by tossing paddletails and flies. I would leave areas where I was hooking small ones to avoid harming them. When experts confirm striper stocks have rebounded, I’ll chase them more frequently.
The broken stripe pattern on this fish was interesting but its small size encouraged me to move on:
P1060321 (2).jpg
FALL
In a change of pace from my kayak, I thoroughly enjoyed a guided float trip on the Juniata River in PA for smallmouth bass in October. I felt spoiled to have a guide row and steer the boat. All I had to do was to sit in my seat and cast my popper to where he pointed. Topwater smallmouths are incredible fun. I will do this float trip again next year.
Nine (2).jpg
(Thanks to John Rentch who joined me on that outing for the above photo.)
In November, I concentrated on local tidal creeks. In addition to pickerels and holdover white perch, largemouth bass and channel cats showed up in good numbers in upper Magothy creeks. This 21-inch Magothy River channel cat put a nice bend in my 7-weight fly rod. It hit a red articulated crystal bugger:
P1050586 (4).jpg
In December, as water temperatures approach 40 degrees, I have been tracking pickerels. This is a transition month for them. They are neurotic now, unsure of where to go. The vegetation they cling to in warmer weather is dying. Some may hold near the remnants of decaying lily pads. Others will hover on downed wood or dock pilings. A few will be in deeper water to avoid chilly shallows after a cold night. I’ve netted dozens of them this fall but like white perch fishing in early June, I know the best pickerel fishing is yet to come in the weeks to follow.
Winter starts officially in seven days. Another fishing season and soon a new year will begin. If COVID allows, I will travel more in 2022. My bucket list has long included a western U.S. trout outing. I’ve enrolled in an April trout fly fishing class in VA to learn more about trout techniques. Then I hope to pursue rainbows, browns and cutthroats in a wide western river where I can see vast open country, tall mountains and bears – with the bears being on the opposite side of the river, of course!
So, the above summarizes my fishing year. Nothing exotic or epic, mostly local and, as always, I enjoyed each outing.
If you’ve gotten this far in my post, thank you for sticking with it. I wish all Snaggedliners a joyful Holiday Season and a Happy New Year.
Now, I look forward to reading about your 2021 fishing year and what you hope to accomplish on the water in 2022.
I don’t know how many times I fished in 2021. Nor do I know how many fish I caught. I do know that I had a good year. Each outing provided its own satisfaction regardless of the number of fish I netted or their sizes.
In lieu of keeping precise catch records, I photograph some of the fish I hook and other things I find interesting on the water. I’ve been doing this for ten years. My photos have changed in that time. I now take more images of those “other things” than fish. It’s not that I am complacent about hooking fish. But for me, fishing is about more than catching.
WINTER
My first catch of 2021 was this bass from Ingrams Pond, DE on 4 January:
P1060244 (2).jpg
I followed that DE outing throughout January with several trips to Eastern Shore ponds, primarily to catch pickerels on the fly. They obliged on each outing. Indeed, I would take my chances with streamer flies and pickerels in the coldest months of winter against any live minnow angler fishing for them. On more than one occasion I caught picks on the fly near anglers having no luck who were trailing minnow buckets behind their kayaks or canoes. Once, a frustrated minnow caster in DE observing my success plaintively asked me what I was using for “bait”.
My February was “fishless”, the only month in 2021 in which that happened. Poor weather and family obligations prevented me from fishing. That’s why I cherish each opportunity to fish. I don’t need to keep score with fish counts to assess the merits of a day in my kayak. Getting out is the reward.
I was back on the water in March. Pickerels predominated my catches along with an occasional crappie or bass in Eastern Shore ponds. All three species will hit the same streamer flies creating anticipation and surprise each time I hooked up. I caught this March crappie on a Bendback Minnow in Smithville Lake, MD:
Mark Crappie.jpg
SPRING
Topwater fly fishing is my favorite technique. Bass, bluegills and pickerels provide steady surface action starting in mid-April. This May largemouth hit a foam popper cast tight to shore in Columbia’s Centennial Lake.
P1060347 (3).jpg
However, there was a topwater bonus in the spring of 2021. We were visited by millions of Brood X Cicadas beginning in late May. This one landed on my arm while was fishing:
P1050521 (3).jpg
At first, it disturbed me seeing them struggling on the water. The Severn River was covered with fluttering cicadas. I “rescued” many of them. I know I was interrupting the circle of life. But I had a hard time passing a drowning cicada in my kayak. I scooped up hundreds in my net and released them on shore. It was my contribution to future generations of Brood X … and to Annapolis residents who will be sweeping them from their sidewalks in 2038, 2055 and so on.
Those floundering bugs awakened sleeping giants in our waters, especially in our reservoirs. Carp, which normally patrol deep water epitomized the definition of gluttony in their cicada eating frenzies. They surfaced to consume the helpless cicadas, which was not an easy act for them given carp anatomy. The downward angle of their mouth is designed to root food from lake and river bottoms. They’re not natural topwater feeders. Some carp would porpoise out of the water and hit the cicadas on their way down. Others would turn on their sides and gently slurp in a cicada ending the insect’s short stay in the sunlight after spending 17 years underground.
My primal hunting instincts awakened. I stopped saving cicadas and started using them as decoys. This simple foam cicada imitation worked wonders in tricking carp:
IMG_4480 (2).jpg
I would cast it near a live cicada and twitch it slightly. Given a choice, a rising carp would usually hit the live cicada first. Then another carp, that was closely following the first one, would take my imitation. Sometimes, I would sight-cast a few feet in front of a cruising carp looking for a meal. That technique worked also. It was tremendous fun. Here’s one of many Triadelphia Reservoir carp that fell victim to my cicada fly:
P1050545 (4).jpg
So, I will long remember the spring of 2021 as the year of the cicada and the hungry carp that found them so tasty. This was probably my last dance with them. I’ll be 84 years old when they return.
SUMMER
In summer, I turned my attention to white perch. I caught them on minnow imitation flies and my own homemade spinner jigs. White perch never arrive soon enough. I start fishing for them in tidal creeks before the official arrival of summer. Those early June trips involve more paddling and pedaling than perch catching. By true summer, white perch populate our creeks in good numbers in predictable areas. At times, it’s hard to not catch one.
I hooked a bunch of them this year by using a small dropper fly under a foam float. On the same trips, in the same areas, some perch would hit my relatively large noisy jig spinner while some preferred a small fly dangling under a float. Go figure…In fact, I caught a striper and a pickerel with the same dropper technique.
perch flies (3).jpg
Above shows the float and dropper flies I made for this approach. Indeed, many kinds of small flies worked under the float. Non fly anglers can do the same with an ultralight spinning rod, a bobber and a fly.
Snakeheads were a summer quest that eluded me this year. I had moderate success with them in 2020 on conventional tackle and thought I had them figured out. I caught none in 2021 despite several trips dedicated specifically for snakeheads in nearby tidal creeks. I cast poppers and streamers to the edges of SAV and weedless paddletails directly into the vegetation. I had a few follows and lost a couple from the hook. No catches, though.
I delayed publication of my book, Fly by the Seat of Your Kayak, for weeks this past summer hoping to include a section on snakeheads on the fly. But I could not in good faith write it when I had never succeeded in catching one that way. Maybe 2022 is the year for me to get one on the fly.
A new species for me in 2021 was bowfins. I did not catch them with flies nor was I in my kayak, but I boated many this summer on VA’s Piankatank River using weedless soft plastics as lures. They’re not related to snakeheads but their body shape is similar and they haunt the same waters. They go absolutely crazy when hooked, jumping and spinning more than any other species I have caught.
I didn’t target or catch striped bass often in 2021. Striper stocks are down and that was one reason for my hesitancy. Nor am I a trolling enthusiast which is an efficient way to catch them. But I did cast for stripers on a handful of Eastern Shore trips, hooking mostly small fish. I caught only 4 or 5 legal stripers this year by tossing paddletails and flies. I would leave areas where I was hooking small ones to avoid harming them. When experts confirm striper stocks have rebounded, I’ll chase them more frequently.
The broken stripe pattern on this fish was interesting but its small size encouraged me to move on:
P1060321 (2).jpg
FALL
In a change of pace from my kayak, I thoroughly enjoyed a guided float trip on the Juniata River in PA for smallmouth bass in October. I felt spoiled to have a guide row and steer the boat. All I had to do was to sit in my seat and cast my popper to where he pointed. Topwater smallmouths are incredible fun. I will do this float trip again next year.
Nine (2).jpg
(Thanks to John Rentch who joined me on that outing for the above photo.)
In November, I concentrated on local tidal creeks. In addition to pickerels and holdover white perch, largemouth bass and channel cats showed up in good numbers in upper Magothy creeks. This 21-inch Magothy River channel cat put a nice bend in my 7-weight fly rod. It hit a red articulated crystal bugger:
P1050586 (4).jpg
In December, as water temperatures approach 40 degrees, I have been tracking pickerels. This is a transition month for them. They are neurotic now, unsure of where to go. The vegetation they cling to in warmer weather is dying. Some may hold near the remnants of decaying lily pads. Others will hover on downed wood or dock pilings. A few will be in deeper water to avoid chilly shallows after a cold night. I’ve netted dozens of them this fall but like white perch fishing in early June, I know the best pickerel fishing is yet to come in the weeks to follow.
Winter starts officially in seven days. Another fishing season and soon a new year will begin. If COVID allows, I will travel more in 2022. My bucket list has long included a western U.S. trout outing. I’ve enrolled in an April trout fly fishing class in VA to learn more about trout techniques. Then I hope to pursue rainbows, browns and cutthroats in a wide western river where I can see vast open country, tall mountains and bears – with the bears being on the opposite side of the river, of course!
So, the above summarizes my fishing year. Nothing exotic or epic, mostly local and, as always, I enjoyed each outing.
If you’ve gotten this far in my post, thank you for sticking with it. I wish all Snaggedliners a joyful Holiday Season and a Happy New Year.
Now, I look forward to reading about your 2021 fishing year and what you hope to accomplish on the water in 2022.
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