Quick After Work Session

A.W.S. - After Work Session - 

Because sometimes you just need that midweek fix.

And sometimes you hook a nice one in the mix.

Had three others around 15" that took the ned rig.  The bigger on ate a spinnerbait.

"Stress-Free" Muskie

Normally if I have a day off I'm all about getting to the spot stupid early, but this time I sort of just got up when I normally head to work and started loading the car.  The boss lady and I spent some well deserved down time on the couch the night before and I mentioned how I'd like to just have a stress free, easy going fishing trip on my day off.  Previous trips, like the vast majority of my outings, had the weight of a goal attached to them.  If it wasn't about checking off a new trophy specie, or bringing home groceries, it was about acquiring that right size fish for prints and artwork.  When I told her that I just want to go and cast around she looked at me funny.  "That's not like you."  I told her it's not good to get hopes up for musky fishing anyway.  She rolled her eyes.

I launched late.  It was almost lunch time.  The plan was to drift around and cast the same area I was fishing last year then perhaps explore a different section.  If I got lucky, then perhaps I'd see one or two, maybe get one to follow the lure, and it would be an alright day.  Well within the first 30 minutes I drift directly over one.  So of course, I stayed in the same area and kept casting.  Half an hour later...

Fat 36" Musky

An hour in and I would have been happy if that was the end of my trip.  But of course, I wasn't leaving yet.  I decided to make one more drift before trying somewhere else.  

Thing is, when you drift right over another one it makes darn near impossible to move to another area.  Over the next few hours I saw a total of 4, two of which were nice sized.  I tried a few other lures but I eventually went back to the one I had most confidence in, the big glide bait.  Not long after, a big headed beast followed but veered away before just before I could try to circle the lure around at the yak.  I suspect the wind pushing my kayak into its path didn't help.  

A few casts later my line came tight abruptly and the water erupted.  I got all giddy again and she was pretty with that green iridescence on her back, streaking up and down the river.  I kept yelling "oh you so beautiful!" but she was forever pissed.  When she calmed down, I nervously put the boga lip grip on her and quickly slid my hand up the attached rope.  As suspected, the signature tornado of teeth and giant trebles ensued.  After the final tantrum, I slid her over the side and there was no doubt that I had a new personal best.

She measured out at 43" for a Virginia Citation (trophy)

As good as it was, I figured I would try a little longer. 

An hour later, with the wind really starting to bother me, 

I packed it up... 

More than content with my "stress-free" musky trip.

I'll Take Luck Any Day

My friend mentioned to me that some people think I'm getting soft.  And in some ways, perhaps I am. Long hours with clients were followed by a myriad of never ending chores, kiddo piano lessons, nerf gun battles, and making sure to create lasting birthday party memories.  With timing being what it is, I've been playing make believe fishing in Lego land with my youngins more often than I was actually casting lines in the water.  And that's ok.  The richness in my life doesn't feel diminished in the least.

I also haven't felt the need to keep this site updated as much and even thought about shutting it down.  With social media being what it is now, I wasn't sure it was needed anymore.  Then I went back and read some of my old posts.  I used to tell stories and really had a nice following.  I suspect not many will keep coming back but I don't think I can just delete such great memories.  I decided to keep updating from time to time more for my own sake than sharing with others.

On that note, yes I finally had a chance to have a productive fishing session.  As in years past, I went on a fall marathon.  Time of departure, 9:30pm.  First stop, good ol' HRBT.  It took a while but I cruised the light line and found the the schoolie stripers chompin.  Along with them were a gazillion baby bluefish and grey trout.  I had to work the dark paddletail deeper and very close to the pilings to get the stripers to eat it before the blues.  I iced two at 22" and took a nap in the car.

A few hours later, I met my good friend and fellow Werner Paddles and Kokatat Team member, Drew Camp.  I've been wanting to check out his local lake for some time and the standing invitation had been there a while.  After all this time, I can't seem to pull myself away from the trophy/citation hunt.  It was a good lake for big channel catfish I was hoping to check that off the list.  While catching bait, I suddenly found myself in a familiar mode saying "Get in the boat.  Get in the boat!".  I went from catching 6-7 inch bream to hooking into what I thought was a nice crappie.... until I realized it was a massive dinner plate size sunfish.  

Citation starts at 11" for a Virginia sunfish so needless to say, I was a ecstatic.

Drew was tearing up the bass as usual...

21.5" bass caught on a tiny blade bait vertical jigging

 Drew went on to mention how he's caught tons of the sunfish in that area but never anything that big.  

I said I'll take luck any day.

Just then I noticed a grasshopper sitting on the very tip of my bow.  Thought it was pretty cool and perhaps lucky. 

 

I went back to fishing and not long after hooked into a really nice channel cat an inch shy of citation on the same tiny ultra light rig with night crawlers that I was catching sunfish on. 

 That drag was SINGING!

I went on to catch several more in the 28-29" range on normal medium heavy catfish gear but kept coming up shy of that 30" mark needed for trophy. 

A few hours went by and I was thinking of calling it a day since I already checked a new trophy specie off the list.  On the proverbial "last cast" I hooked into one that pulled me along.  I've caught tons of much bigger blue cats and flatheads as well as smaller channel cats.  I have to say, I was impressed by the citation class channel cats' strength.  They put up a good fight for their size.  

And yes, it turned out to be the trophy I was looking for. 

 And no, I didn't get a grip and grin, like a dummy.

On my way back to the launch I paddled by a downed tree 

and my lucky cricket jumped ship.
I smiled and thanked it for the luck. 
And on a more serious note, messaged Drew about how much I appreciated him showing me around his spot. 

As timing gets tougher and tougher, it's really hard to fully express how amazing it is to have friends willing to help out someone getting "soft". 

Like a proper marathon though, on the way back home I stopped at the HRBT again and took my newbie kayak fishing friend Mike.  He did better than last time (last year) and hooked several schoolies while managing his kayak better in the current/structure.  

I ended up scoring a fat 23"er and one just shy of 28".  

Sharing the Love

I tell ya, sometimes I just feel like a goofy, giddy little kid when I'm out on the water; stupid grin and all.  Is goobery a word?  Either way, that's me.   Happy and goobery.  Especially lately as I've been falling in love with the near by lake.  After work on a Thursday, I decided to invite a few friends to share the love.  Lockhart, Beck, and Britland joined me on what turned out to be a gorgeous evening out on the water.

Alex Britland enjoying the pedal drive on the new Old Town PDL

I quickly picked up two bass on a texas rigged Cut-R Worm and that aforementioned grin was clearly visible to all.  I shared with my buddies what I used and how I was fishing it to pick up the 16.5" and 18.25" fish. 

 "You should feel the rocks there.  Once you get passed them, there's a drop off.  Make sure to let it get all the way to the bottom." Then I switched up to see if the swim-jig would produce similar results.  A few casts into it I got a solid thump.  Immediately after setting the hook that smile went away.  I went into oh-please-get-in-the-boat mode especially after it thrashed on the surface for us to see that it was close to that 22" citation mark.  Not long after, I landed it and the grin came back.  And when I laid it on the board I smiled a little more...

22.5" Citation Largemouth Bass

Not too long after, Mike Beck landed a 23.5" Pickerel (half inch shy of citation).  And Alex Britland landed a respectable 19" Bass. 

Mike also scored a 19.5" bass toward the end of the night.  Jeff Lockhart had the only topwater bite of the evening with a 16"er.  He also had the misfortune of being the only one who got crapped on by a bird.  

Guess it can't always be smiles and pretty sunsets for everybody.  

But there's always next time.

 

One thing I Don't Skip in Spring

So many fish.

So little time.

The reoccurring theme of this site has become how daddy-life and office-life pretty much kick my ass on the daily.  I keep saying how I want to chase certain fish during certain seasons.  But, winter catfish got skipped, yellow perch got skipped, crappie, bedding bass, and so on.  One of my favorites is spring tautog and unfortunately that got skipped too.  Well, I made sure to make time to look for one of my other spring favorites,
 
And it was worth it.  As in years past, my buddies and I paddled and searched until we found them.  Willy Rags, Wayne Tu, Doug Greiner, Gary from MD, and myself all hooked up.  Big swimbaits with stout hooks, 50lb braid, and 65lb leader lead to signature headshakes, mean runs and awesome sleigh rides.  

Photo Credit: William Ragulsky

Huge thanks to Ragulsky for his camera work.  
Unfortunately I couldn't return the favor.  He had a thick 50+" red slip out of his lap before I could get a photo.  

Greiner and Gary went on to have an amazing season.  I didn't get as many chances to chase them as I would have liked, but I'm very grateful for the opportunites I did get.

Consolation Citation Cobia

After 3 months of major adulting, I was finally able to get away.  The combination of buying a new house, trying to sell the old one, office life, and of course daddy life kept me off the water for what felt like an eternity.  However the window of opportunity came just in time for me to look for cobia before the season closed. 

Machine gun fire from the near by military base set the tone for the day as I launched the Ultra 4.7 into glassy conditions under the CBBT.  It felt like a search and destroy mission since it was the last chance I was going to have to bring home a keeper cobia before the season closes.  Plus it was my third trip in less than 3 weeks so I was feeling a little vindictive.  The first trip involved a ridiculous amount of paddling, not seeing a single fish, and a sour Asian.  On the 2nd trip I did manage a mid 30"er (minimum is 40" to keep).  I knew it would be short but I casted anyway.  It was fun regardless, especially since I hadn't fought a fish in so long.  And as WillyRags says, "It's still a VA kayak cobia."

Huge thanks to William Ragulsky for the kickass action photos

Later that same day, I had a mid 40" cobia thrash on an eel but not take it all the way.  I circled back around and it came straight to the stern of my kayak then streaked off to grab my eel.  Splashing on the surface, the cobia ripped the eel right off the hook before I could put it into free spool and let him get it all the way in its mouth.

Big thanks to Action Hat.  At least I got some cool footage.

I saw 4 others that day but they either got stung earlier or just weren't hungry.  It gave me hope for the third trip though having seen good numbers.  Again I paddled a lot and covered a lot of water while watching charter captains hook up over and over again in their towers.  I saw 5-6 fish, messed up casts on a couple and just simply got rejected on the others.  Third time wasn't the charm.

Johnson Outdoors (mother company of Ocean Kayak and Old Town) sent me a new Predator PDL pedal drive kayak and two days later I had an opportunity to get out of work.  So naturally, still having brown on my mind, I took the new plastic down to the beach.  It took a bit to get used to pedaling instead of paddling, and also took a bit to find the first pair of cobes circling a piling.  The live eel got inhaled and I was immediately grateful that I could pull the brute away from the piling while back pedaling and reversing out.  Then after a short sleigh ride going side to side and spinning, it became a vertical tug of war.

With it being a day after season closed, I had the opportunity to test out an in-water measuring technique I've been wanting to try on cobia.  After grabbing the leader, I tail looped it then lip gripped it.  I had a tape measure attached to the mouth end of the lip gripper that also had a rope coming off the handle.  I passed the rope around the YakAttack screwball / dogbone camera mount toward the bow to pull the head of the fish toward that direction.  I then stretched the measuring tape toward the tail that I was able to pull to the surface with the tail-loop.  If I couldn't put the hammer to it, I was glad it went an inch over the 50" minimum for a release citation.  

After getting the measurement, I took the tail loop off and pulled it up to get a better look at it.

After releasing it, I found another to give me that adrenaline rush.  Unfortunately, about 7-8 minutes into the fight, after bringing it yak side 3 or 4 times, he made another run, twisted, and spit the hook.  

But that was ok.  

Well maybe I screamed a bad word several times 

but since it wasn't any bigger than the one before,

at least I don't think anyway,

 I got over it pretty quick.  

Didn't see another the rest of the day,

still wishing I had some for the grill,

but I'm all smiles about a Virginia release citation cobia.

Review of the Predator PDL,

 specifically from a paddler's perspective

coming in the near future

unless I decide to try to upgrade my personal best cobia. 

Priorities. 

Pickerel in the Mist

It had been nearly three months since my paddle pushed through the water.  The forced hiatus, which may have allowed me to focus on many "grown-up" things, still felt like an eternity.  

Jeff Lockhart and I met Drew Camp and his dad, Chip, in their neck of the woods in search of bass and pickerel.  Even though it was wet and chilly, a perma-grin remained plastered on my face as I felt my kayak glide.  And my cheeks didn't get any rest for awhile because my first fish of the day was a trophy pickerel.

Afterwards, we caught several more pickerel but the bass were tough to come by.  I had a few little ones but that was it.  My best luck came on a spinnerbait, husky jerk, and square bill.  

Bass Dorsal

Pickerel eye markings and gill plate

Being able to check a citation off the list with my first trophy pickerel felt pretty awesome especially while juggling daddy-life, office duties, and trying to get a house ready to put on the market.  

'Til next time, hope you all get on the water, and hopefully it won't be too long before I get out too.

50" Striper and the Curse of the Slim Jim

We got off the exit and decided to grab a quick bite to eat along with some drinks for the upcoming paddle.  Along with the normal pregame snackage, Jeff opted to grab a Slim Jim as well.  During the short rest of the way to the launch I noticed that the wrapper was giving him a hard time; not allowing him to snap into that questionable jerky deliciousness.  He flipped it over to try the other end, but it still would not open.  The proverbial struggle was quite real.  So much so, he thought maybe the universe was telling him that it was not meant to be.  "Dude, it has to be a sign of bad juju".  We chuckled and discussed some of the other foods that created undesirable reactions on the water, included the infamous rumble-gut of 2010 where Justin had to paddle back to shore in a hurry and came back missing both sleeves.  Mid way into theories about good luck food and bad luck food, he finally got it open.  He shrugged his shoulders and it was down the hatch by the time we pulled up to the ramp. 

35"er from 10 days ago

10 days earlier I had fairly good luck with mid thirty inch stripers, but reports from earlier this week showed poor results at the same spot.  However, two nights of colder temps after an unusually warm spell had me thinking my luck could be different. 

I was right.  My eels found their way into striper mouths fairly quickly and at a good pace.  For rigging info, click here.  Both the eel on the free line as well as the one on bottom were getting hits from upper 20 inchers to mid 30 inchers.  They were entertaining and all, but when I hooked into one that had very wide headshakes and didn't come up so easily, I got ready for the imminent sleigh ride.  About 50 yards later, as I'm trying to grab the leader, my freeline rod that was in the flush-mount behind me gets a zip-zip then starts peeling line out.  With leader in hand and mid 40" beast next to my gunwale, thrashing and spraying water all over, I loosened the drag on the other reel.  I reached and tried to grab the lower lip 2 or 3 times but then the big striper dug it's head under the surface and followed up with a few strong kicks.  I should have let the leader go at that moment but my nerves and anxiety from the other fish still hooked up got the better of me.  I tried to force the big one to turn around and popped the 50lb flouro leader right at the hook.  I didn't turn into Hurricane Lee, but as you can imagine, there was a string of expletives before grabbing the other rod.  It came up pretty quick and measured around 32"-33" like many of the ones earlier.  And far, far smaller than the one I just lost.  

Good thing was, it was Saturday night, there was plenty of time, and I came to get down.  Continuing to find and mark fish on the Humminbird, my bottom rod tip would bounce shortly after my screen lit up.  I set the hook, smile, fight, measure, release, repeat.  As the current slowed down, my freeline rod with a fairly small eel started zipping out.  I slam set the hook and knew immediately, this was a good size fish.  While holding on for the impending ride, I reeled in the bottom rod with the other hand.  And the ride came.  And it was awesome.  I took my time, landed it without incident, and stretched it out on my deck.  Jeff helped measure it 3 or 4 times just to make sure it was accurate.  To my delight, the tip of the tail went a little passed the 50" mark.

Released.  Big photo credit thanks to Jeff Lockhart.

Afterwards, I got into a few more lower 30" fish before my feet couldn't stand the cold anymore.  By the time we got back, my car thermometer read 29 degrees.  I ended the night with 25-30 hits, landed 15 fish, had 2 doubles, and a new personal best striper.  Poor Jeff had to listen to my clicker all night and unfortunately only had a handful of hits without any hook ups.  

We were both in utter disbelief at the contrast in results since we used the same rigs and fished the same area.  

As silly as it seems, Slim Jims now keep the notorious banana company on our list of fish retardants.   

I hope you all have a great holiday.  
Stay safe.  
Wear your PFD.  
Layoff the Slim Jims.
And go catch some big ones!

5 Trophy Gar and Chunky Cat

It was what I was hoping for.  

They were everywhere.  

I took Jeff to a spot down on the James River below Hopewell and got into them quickly.  Minnows on the bottom as well as under bobbers didn't last long.  We lost count of the mid to upper 30" gar.  The hard part was letting them run after they picked up the bait.  If it was too earlier, we could feel them drop and the minnow would come back missing scales.  When we timed it right, we were treated to fast streaks and tail walking mayhem.  Anytime you have a 40 plus inch fish jump clear out of the water multiple times then thrash right next to your kayak with mouth wide open and full of please don't get in the kayak yet, adrenaline will flow.

Over the span of a few hours I tallied 5 citations up to a little over 44".  Jeff got the timing right as well and landed a citation also right at 40". 

After running out of minnows, I found a nice channel with a sharp drop off.  We dropped chunks of gizzard shad on 8/0 circle carolina rigs and I quickly had a strong take down.  The heavy catfish swung my kayak around in a hurry but somehow the circle hook came out.  Not too long after, this 41"er gave me a chance for redemption.

I wish I had brought my scale because it had been eating very, very well.

The trophy blue catfish was a most welcome cherry on top of a an already awesome day.  

Two Trophy Sheepshead, Spades, Togs, and a Keeper Cobia

A dim glow was slowly creeping across the eastern sky when my kayak set free from the beach.  The water was black and glassy and the glide was silky smooth.  I looked up at the stars, smiled, and whispered gratitude.  When I looked back down, my bow was cutting through thick bioluminescence creating Tron-like streaks on the water.  Each stroke of my Werner Kalliste sent clouds of electric blue swirling by and like the other times I've sat on an expansive touch-sensitive light-up body of water, I was reminded of what it feels like to be a child... giddy... full of wonder and amazement. 

The surreal Life-Of-Pi-esque scene, minus the gazillion jellyfish and jumping whale, faded as color spread and reflected on the mirror finish. 

I dropped my sheepshead rig in four or five spots before the sun was clear of the horizon.  Not too long afterwards, I got my first bite.  The strange yet familiar grinding with a sudden weight triggered that instinctual swing and urgent need to gain line.  Plunges of my rod tip preluded the high friction exiting of said line.  We exchanged possession of that length a few times while I kicked and pushed to get away from the big CBBT pilings.  When its rage wore off, I realized the hook was only holding on to a tiny sliver at the tip of it's lip.  I turned the fish so I could tuck my foot under it's pelvic fin, pinned it against the side of my kayak and pushed up as I pulled on the leader.  It measured right at 24".  

24" Release Citation Sheepshead

About 20 minutes later, I replayed the previous sequence much to my delight.  The 25"er had better hook placement on it though. 

25" Release Citation Sheepshead

It was 7:18 and I doubled up on my goal of getting a release citation sheepshead.  Since the bite was hot, I stuck around the area hoping for a third.  However, my patience ran out quickly thinking about the other goals I had for the day.  I had been wanting to make a print of a spadefish for a while, but haven't had a chance to bring one home.  After a quick paddle to different spot, the first drop down with clam brought on the rod-vibrating fight of a 10" spadefish.  Second drop down produced similar. Then, after 15 minutes of no action, I decided it was time to move on.  I checked off goal number two, as one of the spades went on ice destined to be inked.

The final goal of the day was to give it a good shot for cobia.  The sun was getting high enough to possibly see them.  Keeping a keen eye on the surface, I tried to cover as much water as possible in my Ultra 4.7.  However, when I got to one of my favorite spots, I had to drop a fiddler crab down just to see if anyone was home.

Anyone else remember Beetlejuice from Howard Stern?

After four togs up to about 15" I pulled myself away to resume the cobia hunt.  After a good long paddle, I saw what I was hoping for; silly brown clown circling a piling.  It wasn't very big, but I was definitely still going to take a shot.  It was swimming counter clockwise and I tossed a RonZ past the piling to the right side just as fish came around on the left.  I swam it near the surface and he charged as soon as he saw it.  He hit it but didn't eat.  I bounced it and he started chasing.  It was getting fairly close to the kayak and I was running out of line.  I dipped the rod down, thinking I was going to have to open the bail to let the lure drop, but then he grabbed it hard and I slammed it home.  Up until this point, I had only hooked up to cobia on friends' boats and charters.  I've seen plenty from a kayak, including some monsters, but for various reasons (sometimes beyond my control and sometimes my fault) I just never got a hook up.  So, I took my time and enjoyed this fight.  He immediately took some line, came up to the surface and thrashed, circled around and made a run back toward the pilings.  I was able to turn him and then he sounded.  For a smallish cobia, it definitely had some attitude; which I wanted all gone from him when it came time to bring it on the kayak.  I let him take as many runs as he wanted.  Eventually, he stayed relatively calm and I noticed the hook placement was good.  I grabbed the leader and slowly pulled him up.  

I quickly measured him at 38" and decided to keep it.  Knowing how strong they are and their destructive nature if it were to thrash in my lap, I took the hammer to the dome.  

I could have ended the trip at 7 in the morning and the 2hr drive home would have still been all smiles.  But with two release citation sheepies, spades, togs, and a keeper cobia under the hatch... you could say I was cheezin pretty hard. 
 
I made it back to shore by 2pm to get back home by 5pm as promised.  Cherry on top of it all was taking the kids to their first baseball game.  

That celebratory beer though...

Cheers.

Hopefully I'll be back out soon to upgrade that kayak cobia.

In the meantime, fish prints it is...

Video of the sheepies and cobia coming soon.