A Tuesday Night

I had a mean hankerin' so I made the hour and twenty minute drive down to the HRBT to get my fix. Upon arrival I found a veritable buffet of light tackle species under the bridge.  The shad, up to 16" were in thick as well as the croaker, up to 12".  The croaker were so thick it took me a while to find a flounder bite.  When the jighead n' gulp wasn't torn up as soon as it hit the bottom, the flounder up to 15" were willing to take the lure.  Not only that, the bluefish were everywhere also.  I switched to a Yozuri Crystal minnow after getting tired of my soft plastics being bitten in half.  However, I was quickly reminded of how much I disliked bluefish and treble hooks.

Luckily, that's not my blood.  I removed the first of the two treble hooks from the lure, leaving just the one on the rear.  Bluefish + multiple treble hooks = Loud profanity and incessant damning of the freakishly hyper specie.

I also found good numbers of 21" - 25" stripers as well.   In the mix, I managed to find this guy and enticed him to partake of my 3" paddletail offering.

Light tackle fun 31.5" Striper

I probably could have pinched the tail and took it home, but I didn't. 

For a gorgeous night out, there was hardly anyone out on the water.  I saw one kayaker heading in as I was heading out and one other boat.  I basically had the whole place to myself and had a pretty good time.... satisfied for now.

But the Eastern Shore Reds are still heavy on my mind...

Change of Plans

After my last trip to the Eastern Shore, I've been itchin' to get back out there in search of the big reds.  Knowing that I won't be able to go during Mother's Day weekend, I took Friday off, and headed down Thursday night.  I stopped at the HRBT around 10:30pm for a little lightline action and caught croaker, hickory shad, dink flounder and about 15 schoolie stripers ranging from 19" to 25".  I told myself I was only going to stay a couple of hours so I could get to the Eastern Shore and rest up before getting up early the next day.  The wind was stronger than the forecast called for, but I still couldn't leave the biting stripers until 3:30am.  The unpredictable Spring Winds were also stronger than anticipated the following day as well.  Rather than the 9-12 kts they said it would be, it was 15-20 kts.  Not fun.  Kevin, Damien and I looked for the big stripers and reds with no luck.  A change of plans brought some flounder up to 20"

I'm glad I at least got on the flounder, but I'm jealous of those who are able to fish this weekend.  I desperately want to find more bull reds and with the wind supposedly being minimal, those who go this weekend should have a good chance at them.   My wife deserves a good Mother's Day weekend, so that is what I must focus on.  The end.

Skunked.  My first two bull drum trips to the Eastern Shore both ended without a bite, leaving my personal best redfish at 32".  And as with most things left to brew in the mind, the need to meet that goal from last year has been growing strong.  So after the highly anticipated first big red reports of the year came in, I called a good fishing buddy and said...

"Dude, this year, I am going to catch a Bull Red".

        The first good weather day to get out there on a kayak was Friday, but I didn't even make an attempt to pass the idea by my wife.  Anniversary date night = don't even ask.  It turns out that Kevin and everyone else that went had an absolutely epic day.  Check out his website photos.  He's got so much fish porn over there, it's disgusting.

        I finally got out there on Sunday, but only after a cold front moved through the day before.  It took us a while, but after some help from Ric Burnley, we got into some nice stripers.

Billy Ragulsky hooked up and going for a ride

34" Flats Striper

        We wandered the area for hours, finding them, then losing them, over and over again.  Aside from Billy and Ric, the rest of us got no love from the stripers.  Bumps.  But no hookups.  We changed our target to the Big Reds and anchored up around the shoals.  By this time, the wind had picked up and clouds rolled over our spot.  We threw out our crabs into the white water, but had no takers. Frustration set in and eventually, we got back to the flats.  It was hard to see anything in the shallow water with the wind up and sun covered. It had been an exhausting day (going to the HRBT the night before until 2am doesn't help).  Nearing the point of defeat, I decided to paddle over to Justin to check out what he was up to before I took off.  

        Keeping an eye out on the way, I thought I saw a brownish orange shape, about 5 feet from me, for just a split second.  Without looking away from the area, I stopped the kayak, picked up the rod and pitched my 6" paddletail.  I cranked and as the lure reached the kayak I lifted it out of the water just in time to see a massive head then a big cloud of sand.  DAMN!  I quickly threw it again and before I could finish my first crank, the rod nearly got pulled out of my hand.  The initial run was everything I hoped for.  After the drag finished screaming, the kayak was in full sleigh mode, going against the wind and the current.  Simply amazing.  And when I thought it might be done, even with the drag set tight, it went on another spectacular line peeling run.  After a while, I got it close and it started making my kayak doing 360s, just spinning me around.  Then finally, it stayed on top.  I grabbed it's lower jaw, leg lifted it in, and nearly creamed myself.  

Fat 40" Bull Red.
Photo credit William Ragulsky.

        Billy caught up to me and helped with pictures.  Then quickly, we resumed the search for the school.  It was getting harder to see anything in the water with the wind getting stronger.  I noticed a few sand bombs went off near me where the drum left in a hurry.  I threw my paddletail some more, but it was futile.  

        I spent about 12 hours on the water.  Paddled around 20 miles.  But it was worth it.  I learned a lot about the area and that one fight will have me going back as soon as I can.  I can't wait.

Fish Prints

Although I have been releasing a lot of my fish, I do enjoy occasionally keeping a few every now and then not only for my dinner plate, but also to appreciate their form as artwork.  My mom taught me the art of fish rubbings, Gyotaku, a few years ago and I fell in love with the effect that was created.   I'm not considering myself a professional by any means (there are people out there that make a living off this type of art), but I really do enjoy making them and I thought I'd share with my fellow fishermen.  I've donated many to local charity tournaments and hope to keep doing so.  I've also made some prints for friends who wanted one done of a memorable fish they caught.  Please contact me for inquiries.

Click for enlarged view.  Hope you like them.

Speckled Trout 25"x10"

Tautog 24"x12"

Sunfish 8"x5"

Striped Bass 27"x14"

Sheepshead 28"x20"

More will be added to the artwork page as they are created.

Putting in the Time

For some time now, I've been trying to join the small group of kayakers who can say they've caught a citation tautog.  They have to be either 9lbs killed or 23" released.  Some people just happen to be at the right place at the right time, having only caught a few togs in his/her life, and amazingly find their prize.  Others have caught countless togs, coming up just short of the magic 23" mark before their fateful day of holding their well deserved trophy.  I've put more hours into this pursuit than I care to admit, and I would love to say this story is about the one, but it's not.  Apparently, the fishing gods think I need to put in more time.

Hoping the gods would be swayed by my recent birthday to grant me luck, I ventured out to the first island of the CBBT in search of the elusive togzilla.  The paddle out was calm and I reached the ever promising, familiar, and favorite tog holding structures in record time.  With clam and blue crab as bait, I felt sure I was going to find a good bite.  And I did.  But unfortunately, like a slap in the face from the gods, they were all the size of my hand.  Frustration set in as hours went by without anything over 11".  It was then that I remembered my last weeks blog entry.  I needed to relax, smell the salt air that I love, enjoy the lack of wind, smile, and try another spot.  Eventually, I hooked into a nice fat 17.5" female.

Even though my parents (who were watching my daughter) hoped I would bring back some delicious tautog, I released her.  And as I watched her swim away I wished her the best in finding Mr. Big Tog to do her spring thing, get her groove on, you know... bump uglies and make lots of wee little togs.  And in the back of my mind, I hoped the act would put me in good standing with the fishing gods for them to favor me, if not on this trip, hopefully on the next one....   or at least bring me some good fishing karma.

Soon after, the wind started picking up and it was time to head back.  About three-quarters of the way back, it started getting pretty bad.  NOAA said it would, and this time, they were right.  I got back to shore with jello arms, wishing my yak and gear would pack themselves.  I looked back at the water, nodded and resigned myself to the fact that I needed to put in more time for that trophy.  One day, perhaps in the summer or fall, because for now, I believe it's time to shift gears and bust out the big stuff.  Catches of a few bull reds at the Eastern Shore have been confirmed.  

On another note, I've apparently put in enough time to gain the respect of my peers, along with some people I really look up to.  I've made so many great friends and have met so many new people through the love of this sport.  Thank you to all of those that have inspired me.  When I started this blog I simply wanted to share my stories with some friends.  But recently, based on various forms of feedback I've gotten, it seems as though I'm helping to inspire some of the new generation of kayak anglers.  And now, I find myself being asked to share my stories and experiences on a bigger scale.  YakAngler has asked me to be a prostaff member and contribute articles on their site, which I was happy to oblige.  I'm also honored to have my logo/link on Kayak Kevin's links page of reliable fishing reports.  In addition, recently, I was thrilled to get a phone call from another legend of the sport, a man with an almost unparalleled kayak fishing resume and crazy sense of humor, Chad Hoover.  He wanted to know if I'd be interested in some of the amazing things he's got coming up.  That man is always thinking and always busy.  I'm not going to spoil it yet, but it looks like I've put in enough time to get invited to some pretty cool things....

Good Mojo

So after washing off all the bad joojoo from Friday and Saturday, I spent a little quality time with the kids.  Trip to the playground, story time, and the ever so entertaining (and educational) Dora the Explorer were high on the agenda.  Halfway through family time, I get a message from Billy.  He's coming up to my neck of the woods to try his hand at shad fishing with Seth Goodwich.  My wife, being the greatest woman ever, gave me the OK when she got back from yoga class.

This trip was different from my last two.  I didn't really have any goals.  I just wanted to get out there and enjoy the good company.  It was a nice day to be out, paddling with some friends.  Especially since I'm always down where Billy's from, and this time he's paying Richmond a visit.

When I met up with them, they had already been out on the water for some time.  They caught a few here and there so I lead them up river to a good spot and as soon as we get there, it was fish on.  I lost count of how many I caught, all on fly.  Seth was tearing them up on a gold spoon.  He had one nearly jump over his head.  It was amazing.  Billy initially had some trouble, but as soon as he got anchored right, he had fish on as well.  He was grinnin' ear to ear using his ultra-ultralight.  I didn't even know they made spinning reels so small (Sedona 500).  After a while, knowing he has an affection for the flyrod, I let him borrow mine.  And it didn't take long before he had the long rod bowed up.  It was really a great time had by all.

Just as the sun was starting hit the tree line, we made our way down river for a little bottom chunkin' with the hickory shad we just caught.  Once again, with little thought to any goals, I just set up over a good hole.  I was enjoying the sunset, shootin' the breeze with the fellas when my clicker goes off.  I engage the reel, line comes tight... fish on.  I get a good chuckle out of Seth when I yell out "This thing's got some ass on it!!!".  It pulled drag and I was smilin'.

 

39" Flathead Catfish.  Photo credit William Ragulsky

A little while later, I had another knock down, but came off soon after. A little after the sunset, my clicker goes off again.  I engage the reel, let the circle hook do it's thing, and I feel some big head shakes.  The addicting adrenaline starts pumping and soon after the massive tail is splashing at the surface.  It took a little while, but I finally grabbed him by the rough sandpaper mouth, and yanked him over the gunwale.

41" Citation Flathead Catfish

 

My new personal best Flathead

There's something to be said about setting a goal, making it happen and accomplishing it.  But sometimes, you just have to let it go and have fun.

"You can spend what seems like an eternity searching for the fish of a lifetime....but it seems that when you least expect it, and quite often when you are truly enjoying your time on the water, that fish will find you." - Cory Routh founder of TKAA and true pioneer of kayak fishing

Gotta keep that good mojo!

Bad JooJoo

This weekend started off great.  I broke free of my my office chair shackles early Friday afternoon, picked up my giggle-box kiddos from daycare and hit the road to Virginia Beach.  My wife had plans with her friends, and I figured mom and pops would like to see their grandkids while giving me some time to do that thing I love to do.

I heard of some bigger stripers coming from the HRBT (Hampton Roads Bridge Tunnel) up to 40".  So, I waited for the storm to die down, then launched around 9:15pm.  Justin was running a little late, and me being anxious to look for the bigguns, I launched without him.  The current was running good and I saw a few small stripers in the light line.  But the wind was 12kts with gusts to 15kts so things were challenging to say the least.  At one point, I was keeping position right at the light line when I notice a much bigger shape in the water.  A little farther back into the shadow and a little deeper, I knew it was a BIG striper.  I felt the excitement in my nerves, but I kept my cool and tried to position myself to get the right cast.  With the water being a little choppy it was hard to keep it in sight.  It was also one of those nights where if you stopped paddling for  5 seconds, you were quickly being pushed into the next set of pilings.

My first few casts went unnoticed.  My next cast landed too close and it disappeared.  I stayed a while longer and it came back up..... I stalked that fish for half an hour... I'd lose it in the glare of the waves, then it would pop back up a minute later.  I'd have to reposition again.... sometimes it was on the wrong side of the piling, and I knew if I hooked up I would not be able to fight the wind, current and fish while getting around the piling.  So it took a while to find the right angle with the perfect cast for the fish to notice but not get spooked.... and just as Justin was paddling up.... WHAM!  Fish on!  My little spinning reel was burnin' even with a tight drag.   My skinny bass rod bending from the handle had me yelling. "WOO HOO!" I was taken from the west bound bridge over to the east bound with a quickness.  I got him to the boat several times, but just when I thought he was done, he'd go on another run.  I was smiling the whole time, but still anxiously hoping the hook doesn't pull out.  I finally grabbed the leader... the fish does the perfect head shake... and I'm left with a paddle tail dangling in the wind.... expletives echoing under the bridge.  *^#&@!  Damn it!  *#$@*%!!!   It wasn't a full sized cow, but definitely in the upper 30's (inches) and fat.

Sulking in my defeat, I caught up with Justin, expletives still being grumbled under my breath.  We looked for more and about half an hour later, I found another one worth stalking.  After about 5-10 minutes, I got him hooked up.  He wasn't quite as big as the other one, but his attitude made up for it.  He fought hard.  He took me to the other bridge licketty split and out the other side.  By the time I got him to the side of the boat I was in the darkness away from the lights of the bridge.  I leadered him and.... would you believe it... he does the perfect head shake... and off he goes.  Un-freakin'-believable. He was probably in the lower 30"s and FAT.

We ended the night around 1am.  Justin only had one 23"er and I managed 3, with the biggest going 23.5".  All fish caught tonight were fat.

I know I should of been happy with those 3 fish, but to see, fight, and have the big ones at fingers distance before losing them was disappointing to say the least.  I immediately looked forward to the next day.  I planned to go toggin' and heard that Lee Williams caught a release citation Tautog the day before.  CONGRATS LEE!  I've been wanting one of those for some time now.

The next morning, I woke up to my 2 year old laughing and wanting to play, so I stayed around the house with my parents, entertaining the children... then changed the oil in my car and helped my dad install some new storm doors.  I got a call from Billy Ragulsky and we got a game plan going for the 1st island trip.  We met and launched around 1:40 into a pretty strong headwind.  The occasional 4 foot wave came rolling through but we still made decent time.  We got to the promised land that is the 1st island of the CBBT (Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel) in a little over an hour.  With the plan to communicate via VHF radio, we split up to cover more area.  Hopes were high.  We were going to catch some tog.

Wrong.  Hours went by without a bite.  It sucked.  I eventually found a piling with some activity.  I set the hook, started cranking, expecting that hard pull back, but it was only a 9"er.  I found 4 others, up to a whopping 11"s.  Poop.

Once again, I should be happy that I caught something.  Especially since Billy got the skunk.  But I can't help but feel the bad joojoo.  Perhaps it was all that talk about Lee's citation that really got my hopes up, and all that time paddling to the island that builds the expectation.  Some average size fish would have been nice.

At least Billy had a tagging kit and he tagged three of my five fish.  It'll be really interesting to see if he gets any returns and what we can learn from the info he gets back.

I got back to Richmond, pulled my lucky hat off my head and threw it in the washer.  I hadn't washed it in quite some time since, like most fishermen, I'm superstitious. All that luck would get washed off.


Well I figured I must have got some pretty bad joojoo on it at some point.  Call me stupid.  It's getting washed and tomorrow is another day.