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I spent the later part of yesterday bouncing around like a pin ball, trying to decide where to fish today. I had to find a solution that would balance some pesky life details and take advantage of the conditions. Plan A turned to plan B which evolved into plan X.
I finally set my sights on traveling south and hitting Breezy Pt. Recent reports had been decent and I figured that if I was going to get skunked, I should at least due it in a new place so I could scout it out for future trips.
I traveled down and cruised the strip that is the twin beaches hoping to see birds. I stopped in to Tydings Tackle Shop and got what intel I could. While very friendly, it amounted to little more than to the matron of the house pointing at the water and proclaiming "The fish are out there".
I found my way to the Breezy Point ramp, paid my $10 launch fee and set out to unload my kayak. The site was no what one might refer to as "High Brow", but it was more than sufficient to provide solid and protected access to the open bay.
The winds were blowing 5-10 for the SE - the most exposed direction for that launch site, but they were projected to lay down as the day progressed. Despite the length of the fetch, the waves were minimal. The tide, while already very high was still flooding and the water temp was 72 degrees. With the extensive cloud cover, I deemed it to be text book conditions. Even the sun and the moon were in alignment to create "High Activity", at least according to Tides4fishing......
I had been studying the charts and had a plan to venture out and work some intriguing ledges near the closest green can, As I was paddling out, I was followed by a power boat that was hell bent on a destination far from their current one. Soon after it passed me, however, it did and abrupt 90 degree turn and stopped as everyone on board grabbed their rods and started throwing.
Naturally, such behavior made me re-evaluate my original plan and I kept paddling straight at them, rather than following the contours.
It didn't take long for them to pull lines and continue on their original course. I strained to identify what had made them stop, but I was still a quarter mile away. I held my course and figured that the reason for their detour would become self evident soon enough.
As predicted, I quickly discovered a largish school of bunker feeding on the surface. The water would boil and then one of them would make a lightning fast turn and spark a chain reaction as his buddies followed suit. It created a wave that sounded just like a whale exhaling. This occurrence happened many times and at random intervals.
Ignoring the power boaters demonstration of what I should expect, I excitedly started casting the rod with the heaviest bucktail on it in an attempt to get under the school to find the big bass that, most assuredly, would be lurking about. I cast repeatedly and came up empty. I trolled the perimeter and failed to mark any fish. I paddled directly through the school and got the same result.
As I took some time to try and decipher the mystery of plentiful bait, but nothing eating it, I kept hearing the same commotion and I felt like I was in a pod of whales, as it was all around me. The winds were dying down and the waves flattening and I soon realized that there were individual schools of bunker everywhere and they were all behaving the same way.
I raced from one to the next figuring that some of them had to have bass on them. I could not conceive of this much bait swimming around unmolested and carefree, but I was forced to accept an untenable reality - the bass hadn't read the script of the screenplay I was trying to perform. I suspect the damn things can't read at all....
I worked all depths - from 5'-40'. I worked the ledges. I worked the flats. try as I might, I could not disprove my unhappy conclusion.
As I was slinking back to the launch with my head slumped in defeat, I started to notice 2 or 3 seagulls cruising in circles low over the water. As I approached, I was able to see that there was lots of slightly nervous water and that hey would dip their beak and grab something on each pass.
It turned out to be a large mass of Silversides. Their school had it's own unique sound as they went about their business of feeding to live. The sonic vibrations of their actions created a sound just like the effervesce of an Alkaseltzer dissolving in a glass of water - subtle but persistent.
As with the schools of bunker, once I keyed in on the sound, I heard it all around me. As cool as it was to witness, I took it as a personal affront that there was even more bait around than I originally perceived, but NO F*&$ing BASS EATING THEM!!!
At least I can say that I avoided a skunk. I did mange one dink that wasn't even as big as the bunker I snagged,,,,
Anyway, since I hadn't had high expectations for the trip, I couldn't be too disappointed. Paddling on the open expanse of the bay was sublime and breathtaking. The clouds made for dramatic contrast to the flat calm waters and the weather was perfect for paddling.
The only thing that could have made it better was if the bass could read the script and realized they were supposed to attend my afternoon soiree. I know I invited them!! You'd think with all the time they spend in schools, they could read better....
DSCN3957.jpgDSCN3961.jpgDSCN3966.jpgDSCN3968.jpg
I finally set my sights on traveling south and hitting Breezy Pt. Recent reports had been decent and I figured that if I was going to get skunked, I should at least due it in a new place so I could scout it out for future trips.
I traveled down and cruised the strip that is the twin beaches hoping to see birds. I stopped in to Tydings Tackle Shop and got what intel I could. While very friendly, it amounted to little more than to the matron of the house pointing at the water and proclaiming "The fish are out there".
I found my way to the Breezy Point ramp, paid my $10 launch fee and set out to unload my kayak. The site was no what one might refer to as "High Brow", but it was more than sufficient to provide solid and protected access to the open bay.
The winds were blowing 5-10 for the SE - the most exposed direction for that launch site, but they were projected to lay down as the day progressed. Despite the length of the fetch, the waves were minimal. The tide, while already very high was still flooding and the water temp was 72 degrees. With the extensive cloud cover, I deemed it to be text book conditions. Even the sun and the moon were in alignment to create "High Activity", at least according to Tides4fishing......
I had been studying the charts and had a plan to venture out and work some intriguing ledges near the closest green can, As I was paddling out, I was followed by a power boat that was hell bent on a destination far from their current one. Soon after it passed me, however, it did and abrupt 90 degree turn and stopped as everyone on board grabbed their rods and started throwing.
Naturally, such behavior made me re-evaluate my original plan and I kept paddling straight at them, rather than following the contours.
It didn't take long for them to pull lines and continue on their original course. I strained to identify what had made them stop, but I was still a quarter mile away. I held my course and figured that the reason for their detour would become self evident soon enough.
As predicted, I quickly discovered a largish school of bunker feeding on the surface. The water would boil and then one of them would make a lightning fast turn and spark a chain reaction as his buddies followed suit. It created a wave that sounded just like a whale exhaling. This occurrence happened many times and at random intervals.
Ignoring the power boaters demonstration of what I should expect, I excitedly started casting the rod with the heaviest bucktail on it in an attempt to get under the school to find the big bass that, most assuredly, would be lurking about. I cast repeatedly and came up empty. I trolled the perimeter and failed to mark any fish. I paddled directly through the school and got the same result.
As I took some time to try and decipher the mystery of plentiful bait, but nothing eating it, I kept hearing the same commotion and I felt like I was in a pod of whales, as it was all around me. The winds were dying down and the waves flattening and I soon realized that there were individual schools of bunker everywhere and they were all behaving the same way.
I raced from one to the next figuring that some of them had to have bass on them. I could not conceive of this much bait swimming around unmolested and carefree, but I was forced to accept an untenable reality - the bass hadn't read the script of the screenplay I was trying to perform. I suspect the damn things can't read at all....
I worked all depths - from 5'-40'. I worked the ledges. I worked the flats. try as I might, I could not disprove my unhappy conclusion.
As I was slinking back to the launch with my head slumped in defeat, I started to notice 2 or 3 seagulls cruising in circles low over the water. As I approached, I was able to see that there was lots of slightly nervous water and that hey would dip their beak and grab something on each pass.
It turned out to be a large mass of Silversides. Their school had it's own unique sound as they went about their business of feeding to live. The sonic vibrations of their actions created a sound just like the effervesce of an Alkaseltzer dissolving in a glass of water - subtle but persistent.
As with the schools of bunker, once I keyed in on the sound, I heard it all around me. As cool as it was to witness, I took it as a personal affront that there was even more bait around than I originally perceived, but NO F*&$ing BASS EATING THEM!!!
At least I can say that I avoided a skunk. I did mange one dink that wasn't even as big as the bunker I snagged,,,,
Anyway, since I hadn't had high expectations for the trip, I couldn't be too disappointed. Paddling on the open expanse of the bay was sublime and breathtaking. The clouds made for dramatic contrast to the flat calm waters and the weather was perfect for paddling.
The only thing that could have made it better was if the bass could read the script and realized they were supposed to attend my afternoon soiree. I know I invited them!! You'd think with all the time they spend in schools, they could read better....
DSCN3957.jpgDSCN3961.jpgDSCN3966.jpgDSCN3968.jpg
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