Brian Cronk spoke enthusiastically about the Delaware River's Lambertville Wing Dam being especially good for fishing this time of year, after I told him my wife and I were going to stay in Yardley for some of the time as one of our bathrooms is getting remodeled. I got in touch with someone who fishes the river, but when I tried to confirm his being there, I got no reply. So I reached out to Brian, who arranged for his friend Paul to meet me. The two of them fished together during their teens, having known each other since middle school. I texted Paul and we made plans for Thursday at 5:15 pm.
On Tuesday, I tried to find access on the Pennsylvania side first. Looks like the only access is for people who live in the townhouse development(s), a big change from years back when anyone could walk out there. Around 1978, I caught a 15-inch smallmouth from the Pennsylvania side.
I drove across to Lambertville from New Hope and found parking where I saw another fisherman get out of his car. I got to the river there, but almost a quarter mile upstream of the dam. With all my heavy stuff, I decided to fish for a half hour or 45 minutes from where I stood. Nothing. Although the water had some depth.
When I returned to my car, I checked on the sign where I had entered the lot. The threat of getting towed meant I wasn't coming back. I had already driven south to where a lot exists by the canal, and you can walk the tow path. That's where I decided I'd return after having scaled down on my equipment. I soon told Paul I'd meet him there and to go light.
The hike was a good mile. A little longer than I had thought. I asked a couple of guys making their way out at about the time we had arrived about the fishing. No one had caught anything, so I understood I had to fish more intensively. Rather than immediately setting about at retrieving a jig in water too slow to maneuver it through drifts, I cut my Ned rig off the fluorocarbon leader and tied on a Yum Dinger rigged Wacky. And instead of marching out to the end of the dam, I fished the shoreline by leaving the dam and walking upstream, but I got hung up so much, finally breaking off, that I decided to focus on the first 75 feet or so of the upstream side of the dam where water was slow, not very deep, and unappealing. "Smallmouth might spawn here," I told Paul.
Besides, it was the kind of "nothing happening" spot every one else might feel contempt for.
I cast far enough that I could plumb some depth at first, Paul fishing not too distant on my left, and then I finished retrieves by fluttering those ends of the worm, making sure not to get hung up in the rocks. That's what worked. And while I was surprised at having a pretty good fish on, as if nothing gets caught here, a better part of me understood I had laid out a plan and it had worked. There's plenty of bass in the river.
I quickly measured it. It's the second fish I've caught from the wing dam. One smallmouth at 15 inches from Pennsylvania. One smallmouth at 15 inches from New Jersey.
Paul took a couple of good hits. He worked an unweighted plastic swim bait on an inset hook, by what I could tell. I had a small fish on for a second and got pegged by another that felt better than a sunfish or rock bass. I fished the fast current on the downstream side of the dam with the Ned rig to get that interest, where depth might have been five or six feet. Shouldn't have been surprising there were some fish in that flow, but I wouldn't stay there for the rest of the evening.
Instead, I fished the upstream side on out towards the river's center, watching the speed of the current increase as I went, aware that I no longer fished where bass might spawn. Not that I was aware the females had spawned and the bucks guarded beds, but the bass I caught, though chunky, didn't seem to bulge with eggs. It likely was a female at that length, though perhaps not. It does seem likely the females have spawned by now, though, and if so, some of them probably remain fairly near areas where they released eggs.
We fished less than two hours. Didn't stay out to dark itself, though fairly well into dusk. Paul has endless fishing stories to tell. It was great catching up on fishing in the Mercer County area where I grew up, as we walked in and walked out. My favorite of his stories is about Prospertown Lake, which actually is in Monmouth next to Mercer. I fished the lake in my teens. He fought the biggest bass he had ever hooked, and he's caught six pounders. He says the bass was eight pounds. It rose towards the surface and he thrust his rod tip down underneath that surface. No matter. The great bass leapt, shook his head, and threw the lure. He told me what that lure was. I believe a Zoom swimbait, but I forget.
Paul
Jersey side of the wing dam. Current goes between the wings from both sides of the river.
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