Every now and again everything comes together just the way you hoped. Today was one of those days. Jesse and I ran out into the ocean in hopes of finding a striped bass, and if not, some tog. We came out of the inlet and found a small fleet of boats aimlessly circling, dragging Mojo's or spoons, or whatever. We cruised past and kept an eyeball on them for signs of fish. Not a single bent rod. So, we pressed on. Around this time my phone began to buzz. I received texts from my friends Justin and George. Both were telling me there were some stripers being caught further South. So, we headed South. We looked for signs of life along the way; a splash, boil, birds, whales, anything. There were sea ducks everywhere. Hundreds of them. They'd erupt from the water splashing as they took flight. Every flock caught our eye. Then we saw the fleet. There were boats scattered all around, close to shore, and further out. Some were trolling, others aimlessly casting. Every now and again we'd see a small fish come over a gunnel. We poked around still searching for a sign. Then we got one. A huge bird play in tight to the beach. There was one boat already there, another raced in, and we were closing in fast. We deployed jigs to the bottom and snapped them up in hopes they would be intercepted by a cruising striper. We got our wish. I hooked up first, Jesse was close behind. We each landed 32-33" stripers. We missed a few, or had the hooks spit, and landed a few more each. We found if we hung out and let everyone else leave and chase the birds we would have school after school of stripers swim beneath us. It played well in our favor throughout the day. Once the bite petered out we cruised around looking for the next bite. It didn't take long. A cloud of birds formed a short distance away with stripers erupting from the water below. Birds and stripers were devastating bunker schools. We glided up to the melee, I put on a bone Mag Darter, Jesse switched to a silver flutter spoon. Both worked. I hooked a good sized striper on the plug and fought it to the boat. Jesse had just released a nice one. He reached over to grab the plug, which I warned him not to do. Not being one to listen, Mr. Helpful was rewarded with a 4/0 treble buried in his finger. Now I had to carefully grab the thrashing striper, avoid the plug, and keep Jesse's finger from becoming a murder scene, while lifting everyone over the gunnel. Once in the boat, I had to keep the bass from thrashing and further damaging Jesse's impaled finger. I managed to grab the pliers and took hold of the hook. Jesse was able to pull his finger free of the hook. A bit sore, but it still worked. Of course I didn't get a picture of the event. Missed opportunity. We repeated the run and gun rampage throughout the day. The majority of the stripers we landed were 32" to 47". Jesse did manage to catch a 31" keeper. Luck played a role in our second keeper of the day. As we were jigging up another school of stripers, we had a striper splash next to the boat as it drifted past. It just lazily flopped on the surface. We grabbed the net and motored up next to it and scooped it. It was fresh and healthy, but must've been exhausted from a battle and unable to swim. Regardless, he became our second keeper of the day. After we scooped the bass we noticed a huge boil on the surface. We ran up and found a school of bunker being assaulted by stripers from below. We tossed plugs and picked off a few more. Around this time the wind was begining to pick up and white caps were becoming more prominent. With our arms starting to feel the brunt of our many battles today ( we landed well over thirty stripers), we decided to leave the action to go find some tog. We ran to the reef to try some rubble. Jesse picked a short. I fought with the trolling motor. Then we ran to a wreck. Again, a few hits, more motor issues. We ran to another wreck, and it was more of the same. Every time, I would set up over the tasty structure, hit spot lock, the boat would drift off. It was definitely chopper and winder than it had been, but the motor should have held without issue. After resetting ten times I called it quits. We'll just have to come out and chase the tog another day. The early striper action was epic, and more than made up for the trolling motor misery. With luck, the striper migration will continue through Christmas break and we'll get another shot at them before they cruise down South for the winter. Fingers crossed... Tight Lines!

It was one of those days. I tried to find someone to go fishing with me, but everyone had other plans, or had an ailment. Looking at the weather I started to figure fishing was probably not the greatest idea anyway. It was pretty dismal out. And besides, there were some good college football games scheduled throughout the day. I took Bubbalouie out front to check the mail. He kept looking over at the truck. So, we took a ride over to Avalon to check the inlet. The ocean looked quite inviting. There was a bit of fog, but entirely manageable. So, I hit the tackle shop and snagged a few dozen green crabs. Then ran home to prep the boat and gear. While wolfing down some left overs, I tried another fishing buddy. As luck would have it, George was available and wanted to go. So, I was no longer a solo trip. I met George at the ramp and we headed off for the reef. The fog that had been rather wispy earlier was getting thicker. We poked our way through the ICW and made it into the inlet and made our way to the reef. We looked for signs of stripers along the way, but the fog was a major impediment. We spot locked over some rubble and dropped green crabs down to their doom. It didn't take long for the tog to find their free snacks. They picked us clean the first few rounds, but then we got the hang of it. We pulled up shortie after shortie. It was nonstop action. Towards the last of our crab bits, George and I caught our only keepers of the day. His was 16", mine was just shy of 20". The fat bugger was five pounds. Around this time we noticed we could no longer see any of the other boats that were around us. The fog really socked in! And it was getting late. Time to bug out. I put the radar on and followed my track back from whence we came. Running in a heavy fog is just eerie. All sense of direction vanishes. Sounds are distorted. Thank God for electronics. We made it safely into the inlet and under the bridge. Once inside the ICW we felt constricted and disoriented. We thought about pulling into one of the other, closer boat ramps or just tying up at one other marinas for the sake of safety. Then we just figured stuff it. Let's take our chances. So we pressed on. Pretty sure the fog got even more dense as we approached the football field area. If you know it, you know it. The place is a long stretch of narrow channel flanked by mucky mud flats. The place eats boats on crystal clear days. We were running it blind. Slow and steady won the race. We made it through and picked our way back to the marina. We arrived in the dark. The fog never relented. I pulled the boat and made for home. George was good company and a solid navigator, picking the channel markers out of the pea soup. We didn't find any stripers, or any of the streaking bluefin tuna that have been rampaging through bunker schools. Maybe next time... Tight Lines!

First, Happy Veterans Day. Thank you to all who have, and still serve. Our Veterans Day trip, unfortunately, fell through. I'm hoping to make it up next summer with a bigger and better event to give a bit of thanks to those who have given so much for us. I still managed to get out today with Jesse and Scott. The morning started off a little bumpy, but it really settled out nicely by the afternoon. There were gannetts dive bombing from above, raining terror upon hapless bait fish. We cruised past the areas to see what we might find. No stripers, but loads of bait. Hopefully they show up soon. We ran out to the reef and spot locked over some rubble. We dropped down rigs loaded with green crab pieces and were rewarded with extremely willing tog. We had our three fish limit in short order. We could've had our five fish limit per man had it been the 16th. Tog are just so much fun to catch. We bounced around to different pieces and caught at each one. When our green crabs ran out we switched up to squid, clam, and Mole crabs. The sea bass were willing takers. We managed three keeper sea bass. We poked further out hoping to find bigger fish in deeper water. Didn't happen. We came back inside and worked over some wrecks. Jesse landed the biggest, slime covered, ugly, damn eel, I've ever seen. And the best part, Scott wanted it because they're good eats. Nope. Scott managed to find a stray triggerfish on one of the pieces of wreck. A few bergals, and far too many spiny dogs rounded out the days catch. We landed well over a hundred fish today. We had nonstop action. Lots of laughs, memories, and fun. A perfect day. Tight Lines!

Ran out to the rubble and wrecks with Keith. Our first pile was a barrage of constant tog bites. The rigs no sooner hit the bottom when they were assaulted by rapid fire tog bites. I managed to pull up five. Keith fed them. Nothing big, but all were fun. We decided to run out deeper. We didn't mark much on the pieces we were hovering over, but we built up a bite. All short sea bass, and a short flounder landed by Keith. Just before we left, we managed a keeper sea bass each. But the bite had slowed considerably. Onward we went. Our final destination had two boats already working it over. We found our own area to ply and dropped down our rigs. Mole crabs, squid, and clam all worked. The current was really heavy, pulling our sinkers out further than we wanted. I should have put on heavier leads, but we managed. The boat drifting behind us pulled in a beast of a sea bass, measuring in at 20 inches. The other boat to our left wasn't doing so well. We had consistent action. Our companions decided to leave, so we poked around. We spot locked on what looked to be a tasty piece with fish hovering above it. Around this time another boat decided to join us. Rather than simply drifting across the area, he decided to run a circle around us. He then stopped about twenty yards off our stern and held his position by back trolling. His exhaust fumes we just lovely. Then he'd let her go and drift by us. And repeat the process. Granted, he never interfered with our fishing, but it was annoying. Especially his exhaust. Courtesy is dead. They finally left, they weren't doing so well. We hung out enjoying the now quiet and fresh air. We ended up keeping thirteen out of the fifty sea bass we caught (yes, I keep score). We tossed plenty of keepers back. We could have had our two man limit, but decided we didn't need all of those fish. We had plenty. We finally called it a day. The conditions were incredible, except for the raging current. Not sure of it was the Moon or the tropical storm, either way, it made things interesting. The trolling motor got a work out. Can't wait for tog season to open back up, and the striper bite to get more consistent. Well, out front at least. They are chewing in the back... Tight Lines!

Ran around the back last night despite the crappy tide and the Vikings playing Monday Night Football. Turns out it was a pretty good choice. My first stop was just an effort in frustration. There were stripers cruising around chasing small baits. I cast out and worked my jig back through them, but not a glance. I repeated this a dozen or so times with zero reaction. I though about putting a plug on, or switching to another color plastic, but decided to just move on. My next stop had some seriously low water levels. I tried a few casts, but it wasn't worth the effort. I moved again, and found some stripers. I managed to land two, both around 25 inches. I missed two others. As I was poking around I saw some movement. It turned out tobbe a squadron of squid. They were harassing the hell out of spearing. As luck would have it, I had a squid jig in my tackle bag. I put it on and proceeded to catch a few of the evil little buggers. Every one I landed did its best to shoot ink and water at me. Then, when pulling free of the sharp spines of the squid jig, they try to grab you and bite you with that nasty little beak they have. Evil. But really fun to catch, and they make for great bait and good eats. Once the squid got wise to me I moved on. I hit a bridge and found a bunch of shad flashing in the depths. I put on a sabiki rig and had some fun landing a handful. I really need tobstart bringing the fly rod out. Catching those mini tarpon on a fly is an absolute blast! The sabiki is fun too. I managed to land five, and lost at least twice that many. Once the tide quite they vanished. I checked a few more spots, but the dead tide had them all empty. Hopped back into the truck and listened to the end of the game as I drove home. Good fishing and a Viking victory. It was a good night. Tight Lines!

Ran the lights for the first time a few nights ago. Justin tagged along for the ride. Many of the usual hot spots were out. Thankfully enough of the lights were still on the make it a fun outing. We found the water at the first light was dirty; loads of grass and murky. The current was running hard too. As the tide came in the water seemed to get even more turbid. It was actually difficult to see some of the lights due to the water clarity. Fortunately, the stripers didn't seem to mind. They still bit. The action was sporadic at best as we ran from light to light. Some lights had loads of stripers cruising, others were full of shad (herring?). Some lights the stripers would bite, others, not so much. Sometimes they spooked out after one cast. But that was usually due to Justin slamming his one ounce cannon ball into the middle of the light. Despite Justin's best efforts to sabotage the fishing, I still managed to land four stripers. He didn't catch any. Most likely due to his using rather oversized jigs. Lighter jigs work better. This does change depending on the situation, and many other factors. But normally, 1/4 ounce is plenty. So, all in all, we had a fun trip out. Maybe next time Justin tags along, he'll go lighter... And the fishing will only get better as the water cools. Tight Lines!