With the water warm and the night air fresh the tidal rivers have been a delight the past week. The stripers seem to be enjoying it immensely. With a dimple here, a pop there, most of the fish seem to be just taking it all in, simply holding a station or slowly cruising a soft seam. One fish was 20lbs and took a little bitty foam fly in a backwoods trestle pond. Other fish were silently taking worms in the drift, the rise forms barely distinguishable in the current. I saw one soft swirl that logic convinced me was just another current upwelling but I ignored this assessment and in a mindless way just believed it to be a fish. I tossed the red rabbit strip fly 2 feet above and one foot past, then pulled it broadside to the current following it downstream with a high stick. A solid take reminded me not to let rationalization suspend belief. Essentially I do best when I just drift flies in current and try not to spend mindful energy projecting fish habits and locations. Stupid can be smart.
My friend took the ferry and joined me for a few nights. It was opening day for him and he moved to the rising fish like he was trying to hail a taxi in NYC. Up in these tiny waters the fish are shy and easily put off, especially by an out of state intruder. By the end of that night he had abandoned his saltwater gear and instead carried a nifty fresh water 6 wgt rod with a wood reel insert inscribed “Trout Special”. It had last seen action in the Montana. To this he rigged an orange GP to double taper floating line and, while slowly working his Ashton, softly waded 25 yards across the sand bar to get an angle on 2 bass popping a marsh bank. He had morphed into a backwater striper sniper and took out both fish.
The backwaters are not a place to play favorites. Flies effective at one location were losers at others. One fish worked a foam line, rising steadily like a trout taking subsurface emergers. And like the trout, whatever he was taking was too small for my eyes to see. Two drifts both brought a rise but not a hook up. Despite the previous success of these flies I accepted the fish's response for what it was, a rejection, and not casting a third time I clipped off both flies and substituted an untested #10 shrimp fly constructed of wood duck flank feather. I could see the fly’s yellow glow drifting two inches below the water’s surface as the bass came up and took it with confidence.
We caught fish from Branford to Bristol. Each spot another line in the fingerprint.
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