Ask a fisherman what shape striped bass stocks are in, and the answer you get could very well depend on where you are. In Maine and New Hampshire, fishermen claim to be seeing evidence that another stock collapse, like the one suffered through in the 1980s, has already begun. In New Jersey, most anglers claim that fish stocks are in great shape and point to great catching in their home waters. In the southern reaches of the striper’s range, many anglers theorize that the striper stock is robust, but complain that a lack of inshore forage is causing bass to move more than 3 miles offshore, where fishermen are not allowed to target them. In Massachusetts, you’ll hear all of the above opinions and they’ll vary from town to town. What is clear is that when so many anglers are talking about the state of striped bass regulations, it must be acknowledged that “something” about striped bass is changing, and from North Carolina to Maine, fisherman are seeing that “something.”

A young-of-year striped bass netted in Chesapeake Bay, a major spawning ground for striped bass. The success of each spring’s striper spawn has a huge effect on the number of striped bass that will eventually be available for anglers from North Carolina to Maine. Maryland DNR biologists have monitored striper spawning success since 1954, sampling 22 survey sites each month from July through September with two sweeps of a 100-foot beach seine.

A Case of History Repeating?

Striped bass have formed the basis for one of the most important fisheries on the Atlantic coast for centuries. Early records recount their abundance as being so great that at one time they were used to fertilize fields. However, a combination of overfishing and poor environmental conditions led to the collapse of the fishery in the 1980s. Through the hardship and dedication of both commercial and recreational fishermen, the stock was rebuilt (according to legal/scientific definitions). After the reopening of many state fisheries in 1990, recreational harvest grew to a peak of just over 2.7 million fish in 2006, while commercial harvest has averaged nearly 1 million fish per year.

Let me address one issue that always seems to sidetrack a reasonable look at the current status of striper regulations. Simply put, striped bass are not approaching a state of collapse as they were in the 1980s. There are some localized observations that have triggered fear in anglers who remember the dark days of striper fishing. Fortunately, almost none of the major indicators, such as fishing reports and tackle sales, not to mention actual science, are similar to the pre-collapse years…and that is a very good thing.

As a recreational fishing community advocate, I have spent thousands of hours talking with the anglers who fished through the 1980s and the scientists who studied striped bass through the collapse, along with reading archives of all the information produced during the striper collapse. I honestly don’t think that the situation that led up to the collapse could repeat. As an example, this type of article would never have been published in 1980 because readers of the time were not interested in feature articles loaded with science and data about the striper population. One of my heroes, plug-maker and striper conservationist Bob Pond, was largely ridiculed for speaking up in the 1980s about the problems with striped bass. Today, between the rapid spread of information allowed by the Internet and the billions of dollars this fishery contributes to the economy, there is more scientific and political attention focused on striped bass than there has been at any other time in history. We are in an unending conservation debate about striped bass because striped bass are under some of the most intense scrutiny of any species that swims in our waters. Today, when we see an old picture of a pick-up truck filled with striped bass between 16 inches and 50 pounds, we no longer see it as just “the good-old days” – most of us see a huge overfishing mistake that can never be allowed to repeat.

Total catch in number (000s) for recreational and commercial fisheries of striped bass, Maine to North Carolina, 1982-2010. The catch is dominated by recreational fishing, and includes landings (kept fish) and catch-and-release mortality. Note the sharp decline in recent years in release mortality, as the number of undersized stripers being caught and released by fishermen has dropped. Source: ASMFC.org

The commercial and recreational landings (in metric tons) of striped bass from Maine to North Carolina, 1947-2010. After the collapse of the fishery in the 1980s, striped bass rebounded and recreational landings spiked in 2006 but have declined since. Commercial landings have held steady around 3,000 metric tons per year.
Source: ASMFC.org

The Current Striper Decline

Striped bass are managed by the Atlantic States Marine Fisheries Commission (ASMFC). The management plan has a specific fishing mortality “target” and an overfishing “threshold.” If either of these numbers is reached, then an automatic conservation measure must be put in place. One of the big questions is, with the increase in fishing pressure over the past decade, do the current numbers behind the triggers provide enough protection to sustain a robust fishery when nature decides to throw striped bass stocks a curveball?

The most recent striped bass stock assessment was the 2011 stock assessment update, which determined that striped bass are not overfished and overfishing is not occurring. The female spawning stock biomass was estimated at 50,548 metric tons in 2010, which is above the target and threshold levels. Estimates of recruitment in 2010 (the number of juvenile fish reaching a size/age where they become a viable target for a specific fishery) increased from 2009 and were slightly higher than the 2005-2010 average but still below the 1995-2010 average. While biomass estimates (total weight of the stock) have remained relatively stable, stock abundance (estimated number of fish) has declined since 2004 from 67.5 million fish to a low of 42.3 million fish in 2010.

The decline, as reflected by landings, is more prevalent in areas largely dependent on the Chesapeake Bay stock than in areas dominated by the Hudson River stock. What all these numbers mean is that the science agrees with what many fishermen are seeing: There are fewer stripers, but they weigh more. There are fewer “schoolies” – small striped bass – and most importantly, anglers are catching fewer striped bass. While striped bass science agrees with what fishermen are seeing, there seems to be many different interpretations of the situation and what, if anything, fisheries managers should do about it.

Most fishermen did not need a peer-reviewed scientific report to predict that there were going to be a lot of large bass around in 2012. All we had to do was take note that eight years ago it was common to catch over 50 small striped bass on one
tide at a local estuary.

The “schoolie boom,” as I like to call those years, was predicted by the scientific studies known as the striped bass young of year indices. The longest time series of these studies of juvenile striped bass abundance is conducted by Maryland Dept. of Natural Resources. This agency samples 22 fixed locations throughout Maryland waters, mostly in Chesapeake Bay, in the exact same manner year after year. The schoolie boom of a few years ago was fueled by four extremely high year classes. Those years were 1989, 1993, 1996 and 2001. The 1996 fish are roughly 42 inches and the 2001 fish should be about 34 inches.

On the other hand, year classes from 2002-2010 were for the most part below average. The lack of schoolies today is a fact that translates to mean we will soon be entering a time of very few larger fish as these weak year classes move through the fishery. We will soon have years with few good-sized stripers and even fewer trophies. A decline in the quality of striped bass fishing over the next few years is inevitable and there is no way to avoid it…or is there?

The juvenile striped bass survey documents annual year-class success for young-of- the-year (YOY) striped bass in Chesapeake Bay. Annual indices of abundance provide an early indicator of future adult stock abundance. The super spawn in 2001 is believed to be responsible for the large number of 34- to 36-inch fish prevalent in our fishery today. The 2011 spawning index was the fourth highest ever recorded and should result in improved fishing for schoolie-sized stripers in several years.
Source: Durell, E.Q., and Weedon, C. 2011. Striped Bass Seine Survey Juvenile Index Web Page. http://www.dnr.state. md.us/fisheries/juvindex/index.html. Maryland Department of Natural Resources, Fisheries Service.

Hope on the Horizon

With a lot of bad news and the ASMFC considering action to ratchet down fishing mortality even before the triggers were reached, along came the 2011 YOY index. From the Chesapeake Bay to the Hudson River, the science came in loud and clear. The 2011 year class is the fourth highest on record – a biggie. The doomsday predictions were wiped away and even striped bass management nerds like me were left scratching our heads. The same amount of spawning biomass that had been producing multiple below-average year classes had suddenly delivered a super year class. This type of variability in spawning success is exactly what has been documented in the past –1988 and 1990 were tiny year classes but 1989 was huge. The spawning stock biomass that produced the super year classes also produced the tiny year classes – so much for the theory that all we have to do is leave more “breeders,” a common term for prime spawning fish, in the water and we will have striped bass of all sizes.

Why is there such year-to-year variability in striped bass spawning success? No one knows for sure. Many fisheries scientists have theorized that it is linked to environmental conditions, including the amount of rain in the spring and variable amounts of pollution in spawning habitat from year to year. Truth is we don’t know for sure, but there is a lot of money being spent on striped bass research, so we may have some answers soon.

Patrick Paquette is a three term past president and for ten years has served as the government affairs officer of the Massachusetts Striped Bass Association. Patrick is a recreational fishing community advocate and works on issues from Maine to North Carolina.

The winning boats were:
The boat coming in first place was the Reel Satisfaction captained by Harry Schroeder with a 282.8-pound Mako. Total calcutta prize money awarded: $38,129.

The second place boat was the Reel Nice captained by Carl Raimondi with a 240-pound Mako. Total calcutta prize money awarded: $46,761

The third place boat was the Cliff Hanger captained by John Clifford with a 238.4-pound Mako. Total calcutta prize money awarded: $78,984.

Over 140 boats competed in our annual tournament and we awarded over $225,000 in cash and prizes.

The Reel Satisfaction, captained by Harry Schroeder, took first place with a 282.8-pound mako shark.

Russ Burgess with a monster 50-pound striper.

The text was a bit strange – “favor please – need camera and pliers.” The camera request from my friend Russ Burgess was not that unusual, it usually means he has caught yet another 50-pound class striper and he wants a keepsake photo but the pliers plea had me scratching my head. A quick call revealed the need, a monster striper that Russ took in Boston Harbor Friday in the middle of a downpour had wanted the 10-inch, 7-ounce Big Water Lures troller so badly that little more than the metal lip was sticking out of it’s maw and Russ had forgot his pliers.

The photo-op/plug extraction occurred that evening at Admiral Hill Marina in Chelsea, where the Captain’s Dinner for the following day’s annual Boston Harbor Striper Shootout was taking place. While there was no scale to authenticate it, I taped the huge bass at over 50 inches and it had gargantuan proportions – definitely a 50-pounder. I shot the pics (below) and provided the pliers. News of the fish soon sent shock waves among the other participants; I almost felt bad for them. It was almost a foregone conclusion as Russ took first place the next day with a “smaller” fish that taped out at a mere 49 5/8 inches and was similarly built.

What is most noteworthy was how he caught the first fish that is in the photos. Mid-morning last Friday was raining and Russ spotted a blitz between Deer Island and the North Channel. Most everyone who sees the spectacle of bait, bird and bass joins the chase and rains topwaters, soft plastics, jigs or whatever into the mayhem. Russ did none of that, he snapped on those deep-diving, baseball-bat-big pikies, set out his lines and the rest is history. Ordinarily Russ does his thing nocturnally but when the special conditions of rain/fog exist, this method is still deadly. Captain Russ Burgess bests bass of this size consistently in Boston Harbor, a place that is seldom is in the conversation of big stripers. How would this method work in your home water?

I had the opportunity to fish with him that day, but I deferred to enjoy light tackle/schoolie action with finesse plugs…yikes!

The fish engulfed a 10-inch, 7-ounce Bigwater Lures Troller.

Basking sharks were spotted by Cape Cod anglers multiple times last week. On The Water’s Kevin Blinkoff took a few photos while bluefin tuna fishing off Chatham, and Phil Buzby (who shot this awesome video) spotted one (or perhaps the same  one) around Provincetown a few days later.

Basking Shark Facts (Courtesy of the New England Basking Shark & Ocean Sunfish Project):

• Second Largest Fish in the World (Whale Shark #1)
• Typically grow 20 to 28 feet, but can grow up to 40 feet
• Spend the Spring, Summer and Fall in colder waters and migrate to more tropical waters in the Winter
• Feed by filtering larger zooplankton like copepods, fish eggs and fish larvae through their large mouths
• Listed as a protected species in US waters

Basking shark off Chatham, MA on June 5th, 2013.

Pelican 1400

At On The Water, we have one strict rule for all of our digital cameras and video cameras: If they’re not in a Pelican case, they don’t leave the office. Whether traveling in a car, shooting from shore, or taking shots aboard a boat, nothing can protect valuable electronic equipment from accidental drops, bumps, and dunkings like a waterproof Pelican hard case. The cases come in a number of sizes to fit whatever equipment you need to protect. The 1400 fits a digital SLR with a spare lens and a couple of filters, and the “Pick N Pluck” foam interior is easy to customize to the exact dimensions of your electronics. The latches have a solid feel and close with a thump that lets you know your gear is safely stowed in a watertight, crushproof and dustproof case.

The Striper Cup would also like to welcome Pelican as the newest 2013 Sponsor! Check out all of their great products here www.pelicanprogear.com.

Terry Martuscelli caught this 32-pounder with a snagged bunker. It’s wise to always pack a few snagging hooks.

You’ve found a school of stripers well within casting range, feeding aggressively. Your hopes are high as you make the first cast. After a few cranks of the reel handle, with your artificial offering moving through the school, you tense up, waiting for the strike. And then…nothing. You guess it was just bad luck, but the next few casts produce the same result. Frustration creeps in. Your vary your retrieve speed, change lures and colors, but an hour later, as the school begins to move away, you are still waiting for that first strike. What happened?

Every year I hear of instances where schools of bass refused to hit anything thrown at them. I’ve had my share of disappointing outings, however, over the years, I’ve honed a few techniques that often convert that frustration into success.

On most occasions, when stripers are being extremely finicky, their feeding activity is taking place right near the surface. In addition, the water is usually either very clear or very off-colored, and baitfish schools are nearby. Under these conditions, my observations suggest that the fish are either seeing too much of a lure, or not enough of it.

1. Have a Need for Speed

Have you ever had a striper smack your plug as you hurriedly reeled in the last ten yards of your retrieve to make another cast? Or has a bass continually boiled, bumped, or rolled behind your offering without grabbing it? Often times these things occur when the water is crystal clear and the surf is fairly calm. Under these conditions, a simple increase in retrieve speed may be all that is needed to trigger a solid strike. One outing, almost 25 years ago, gave me some insight into the effectiveness of speed. During that last week in September, false albacore consistently invaded the surf, and once a school of these speedsters were within casting range, all fishermen on the scene would start throwing metal or small Polaris-style poppers. The trick was to retrieve these lures as fast as possible. As a school pushed past me, I finally had an albie – or so I thought – explode on my popper.

As the fish thrashed for a moment, I soon realized I had not hooked my original quarry. After a few minutes, a hefty, 36-inch striped bass laid at my feet on the beach. Over the next hour, speedily retrieving the lure produced three more bass of similar size. An increase in speed can, and will, trigger strikes from stripers feeding in crystal clear water. The fast retrieve keeps the bass from scrutinizing the lure, and, if the bass are on the hunt, a quick retrieve will often arouse their predatory instincts.

Most artificial lures can be used at faster than normal speeds. The key is to use lures that maintain their original swimming action. Lures that tend to spin out with increased speed should not be employed. I’ve had good results with artificial lures such as Bombers, Red Fins, Yo-Zuri swimmers, Polaris and Atom style poppers, metal lures and plastic swimming shads. I’ve even done well using surface swimmers like the Gibbs Danny plug at faster-than-normal speeds. Anyone who has witnessed a bass chase down a free-swimming bunker, herring or mullet can attest to the fact that stripers can catch just about anything that swims in their domain and will have no problem striking a fast-moving lure.

Tsunami Timber Lure Striper Popper

2. Work the White Water

The author with a 19-pound bass. Seek out areas with white water, these offer prime habitat for hungry stripers.

When stripers are being finicky about taking an artificial lure in clear water, and there is white-water created by breaking waves nearby, use it to your advantage. I’ve been lucky enough to catch fish, at times, along a crowded beach of empty-handed fisherman because I recognized that the bass would only take a plug in the limited white water available. Precisely timing my casts with the breaking waves and having the lure work on the back edge of the wash was the ticket.

Lures that ride high in the water column are usually best in the white water, however, sub-surface offerings
like soft-plastic shads, bucktails, rigged plastic eels and minnow-style plugs also work well. The key is to keep your offering in the white-water wash that occurs closest to deep water.

3. Do Nothing

Many years ago, after a successful fishing trip to Canada, I was confronted with a very problematic school of bass back home. Acres of stripers were slurping baitfish off the surface all around me in the dark, yet my plug came through the school without so much as a bump. I had a similar encounter with finicky walleyes in Canada a few weeks earlier, and wondered if the technique that helped me connect with the north-of-the-border walleye would work on these hometown stripers.

With renewed confidence, I put on a 20-pound-test fluorocarbon leader and tied it directly to the eye of the plug. I then made a cast slightly past the feeding fish and crawled the plug across the surface. I was barely retrieving the plug at all. My plug made only a slight “V” wake that I could make out in the dim light. With hardly any tension on the plug, a 16-pound striper exploded on it and shattered the peacefulness of the evening. Four more similar fish followed over the next hour before the school disappeared. I’ve used this technique with good results numerous times over the years. I’ve come to call it “the do nothing retrieve,” since there is very little forward movement of the plug. This has worked for me in very clear and very dirty water where fish are feeding right near the surface. I’ve had the greatest success with slim, buoyant Bomber, Rebel and Redfin-style plugs. On some occasions, I’ve even scored with this method while using larger surface swimmers like the Gibbs Danny or Atom Junior.

4. Get Creative with Colors

Certain color patterns perform better under specific conditions when feeding stripers are reluctant to strike. In crystal-clear, calm-water conditions, I’ve had my best results using the most natural and subtle color patterns. Patterns and lures imitating the prevailing baitfish are the first to come out of my plug bag. With advances in modern manufacturing technology, some lures look almost life-like. Under cloudy-water conditions, I opt first for higher visibility patterns in yellow, yellow and black, red and yellow, or all black. Here, I want to choose an offering that will stand out the most in a murky environment.

Carmen Bufardeci with a respectable striper. Fishing in the dark will greatly increase your odds of success.

5. Own the Night

Sometimes, when stripers are active toward late afternoon but are rejecting artificial offerings, a little patience can go a long way. Often, after most anglers have given up and gone home, the few that stick it out another hour into darkness are rewarded with the best bite of the day. The cover of darkness often turns nippers into strikers.

6. Get Down and Dirty

Although I am rather stubborn about abandoning artificial lures under most circumstances, the fact remains there will be times when quality stripers will only respond to the real thing. This is especially true when schools of bunker are being followed by big striped bass. At this time, a snagged bunker will often be the only offering that will take a good fish. The same can be true with clams, bloodworms, cut baitfish, and other live or fresh baits.

7. Be a Tease

When stripers are in their lure-rejection mode, there are a few reliable tactics that always seem to save the day for me during the season. One tactic that has worked for generations of fishermen is the use of a teaser in front of the main lure offering. These little wisps of feather, bucktail, flash and plastic, or a combination of all, account for thousands of finicky bass each year. Bass often crush these tiny morsels with reckless abandonment, while ignoring a more substantial target. Although I primarily fish without using a teaser during the season, because they cuts down on casting distance, I always carry a few in my bag for special situations. These are a few techniques that have worked for me and other fishermen over the years.

Fishing a teaser rig in front of a swimming lure will up your odds of catching fish, especially if there are small baitfish around. The main lure, plug or even metal acts as the vehicle that allows the fisherman to cast the smaller offering a good distance.

Each year, a new tactic always seems to surface that gives fishermen another “trick” to fool a few more fish. Stripers are a great and unpredictable gamefish to pursue. They can thrill us one minute and drive us crazy the next, but by paying attention to the water conditions and the behavior of the stripers, we can often swing the odds in our favor when the bass decide to change the rules.

It is well accepted that catch-and-release mortality can be greatly reduced by using circle hooks to fish natural baits. In fact, in two studies by marine officials in Massachusetts and Maryland that focused on bait-fishing for striped bass, the use of circle hooks rather than J-hooks reduced mortality from 15.5% to 3% (Massachusetts study) and from 9.1% to 0.8% (Maryland study). Other researchers have had similar results.

Thankfully, circle hooks are becoming much more prevalent throughout the fishing world. Their tendency to hook fish in the corner of the mouth and not deep in the throat or stomach minimizes damage to the fish allowing for less catch-and-release mortality.

Keep in mind when fishing circle hooks that you should not jerk the rod tip to set the hook. If you jerk the rod tip, you’ll simply pull a circle hook out of the fish’s mouth with little or no chance of a hook up. Instead, after letting the fish “take” the bait, simply start reeling in the line until it comes tight and then fight the fish normally.

With soft, easily swallowed baits such as clams and worms, circle hooks are the only way to go when targeting striped bass – especially if fishing them out of a sand spike. When using larger chunk baits for stripers, circle hooks may hinder hook-up ratios, so using a large J-hook is better in this situation. You can mitigate the odds of striped bass swallowing the bait by holding the rod and not waiting too long before setting the hook.

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Tom Rostron of Wall, New Jersey was pre-fishing for an upcoming shark tournament when he and fishing partner, Clint Simek of Brielle, got the surprise of their life.

“We were fishing all day, and not really expecting much, because it was still early. We caught probably 13 blue sharks and then in the afternoon we saw a mako swim into our slick”

The fish ignored all the baits Rostron and Simek had set near the surface, but when Rostron began reeling up the deep bait, he felt the shark hit. The fish immediately charged the boat when it felt the hook.

“The first time it jumped, it was about 65 feet away,” Rostron said. “The second jump was 45 feet away.”

By the time the mako jumped a fourth time, it was close enough to the boat that it drenched Simek and Rostron upon its re-entry. Then the shark swam under the boat and back-flipped right onto the bow.

“I was looking through the windshield and saw the shark’s tail fly past. I didn’t immediately realize just how close it was.”

The 8 ½-foot shark landed on the gunwale of the 31-foot Ocean Master and flipped right into the boat and went berserk.

“It was breaking brooms, brushes, boat hooks. It bit into the fiberglass. We just had to stay clear of it at first.”

The two were eventually able to subdue the shark by putting two tailropes on it and sinking a flying gaff into its gills.

“We were thirty-five to forty-five miles out of Manasquan, and during the whole two hour ride back, the shark was still alive.”

The high-flying mako eventually expired by the time it was weighed at Hoffman’s Marina in Brielle, where it pulled the scales down to 303 pounds.

“It was scary, fun and exciting all at once,” Rostron said, “I’ll never forget it.”

The author with a nice striper taken in the Canal last June.

In the gray light, I look down and check my plug selection, a 7-inch, 3-ounce pencil popper, white with a faint pink stripe down each side. I briefly debate switching out for yellow or perhaps a mackerel pattern, but opt against it. I’ve seen no signs of life yet, at least not in the water, and start to second-guess my location. The gulls seem ambivalent too, taking short flights out over the water before coming back to rest on the grease-calm surface. It’s June, after all – somewhere, anywhere, there could be a typhoon of striped bass and baitfish within sniping distance of my 11-foot rod.

My cell phone, perilously stored in the front pouch of my waders where at least a half-dozen cell phones before it have met their doom, remains silent. Two of my friends are also out fishing, following their own interpretations of where the tide, wind and weather might have sent the fish. We promised to coordinate in order to zero in on the bass, but surfcasters are at the same time chronic exaggerators and painstakingly secretive. Relying on fishing buddies to provide you good information in real time is asking a lot.

When we planned to coordinate the night before, I already knew one of my friends would make a fish call prematurely – after a seeing a single splash or small school of baitfish – suggesting the blitz of blitzes is about to take place at his feet, and I had better get there. I’ve chased these prophecies and found quiet waters, my friend shrugging his shoulders and saying it never really materialized. So when he calls first to say the birds are “acting fishy,” I stay put.

I start casting, still not seeing any sign of stripers, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t here.

The second friend calls after he’s put nine fish on the beach that morning alone and the school is moving off. He’s done this before, calling with wild descriptions of birds raining hellfire from above, bass ripping the ocean into shreds and baitfish seeking refuge on the beach, preferring to die of oxygen deprivation than ingestion – after it’s already played out. In the past, I’ve arrived late to this scene, and found glittering baitfish corpses outlining the farthest reach of the waves and a still ocean.

Occasionally, there’s a fisherman or two calling it quits on the morning and heading back to their cars, grasping a striped bass’s gill plate at their waist while the fish’s tail still drags along the ground. When he tells me there’s still a slow pick of fish, I thank him, and again stay put.

A small v-wake catches my attention, a baitfish of some sort. When it veers closer, I see it’s a bunker. The fish looks battered and bruised, a zombie fish, isolated from his schoolmates. I feel bad for the bunker, a creature that spent its entire life surrounded by hundreds, maybe thousands, of its kin. Now, by some sort of interference, this fish has been left behind. Before I can get too sentimental, the bunker’s problems are over. Mouth agape, emerging from the green depths, 30 pounds of striped bass puts an end to the baitfish’s misery. The bass eats and turns in one motion, its tail swinging wide and slapping the water in that staccato pop I’ve been waiting all spring to hear. As I look up from the drama unfolding at my feet, I see them rolling in — the stampede of bass and bunker.

The graphite rod loads like a slingshot and snaps straight, shooting the plug on a trajectory for the heart of the school. The plug lands and I make it dance, rod butt between my legs, right hand on the foregrip, left hand on the reel handle, pulling the rod up and pushing it down to make the tip whip back and forth. The plug comes to life. Its heavy rear section stays anchored in the water while the narrow tip washes side to side, bouncing off the surface, sending up a small spray. I turn the reel handle just fast enough to make the plug inch forward as it dances. A boil appears behind it. Something has taken interest. I keep moving the plug and the hit comes. The water below the pencil popper detonates, but instead of disappearing from sight in the maw of the bass, my plug is in plain view, cartwheeling through the air. He missed, I think, but that’s not correct. The fish made a direct hit, and had the striper done that to a bunker instead of an unyielding piece of wood, the stunned baitfish would have folded neatly into the striper’s gullet.

Whether it’s the same fish that comes back for the plug or another, I can’t say, but as soon as I take up the slack and put the lure in motion, it’s attacked. The hooks take hold, and the bass, furious at this situation, rips up the water. In the early morning light, the fish looks brownish as it thrashes on the surface, though when it draws near, it will show an olive hue to its back with the slightest tint of purple on its sides. Backlit as the sun crests over the horizon, the dorsal fin and top of the tail appear transparent as the bass circles toward the shore. I grab the leader, wrap it around my hand, and then grab the plug. The front treble has taken purchase in the corner of the fish’s mouth while the rear hook has found purchase under the lower jaw.

Once I watch the broad tail propel the fish back into the green waters, I grab my phone and call in my friends. They join me in plenty of time, and we connect with a few more fish each before the bite slows and my alarm signals it’s time to get to the office. We walk off together, making plans for the following day. It will be the fourth day fishing early in the morning in a row, but not going fishing seems like an illogical choice. It’s June after all – the best month of the year.