Exmore, Virginia, on way to Fishing North Carolina Outer Banks

We're in Exmore, Virginia, Delmarva Penninsula, Eastern Shore. The weather is nice, mid-80s, sunny today, and we expect good weather to begin our Outer Banks, North Carolina, fishing in Ocracoke Inlet on Monday. Ryan O'Neal, Captain of the Tar Heel skiff, has about two decade's year 'round experience fishing the inlet, having been the youngest on the southern East Coast to receive his Captain's license at age 18. If he shows us fishing as fast as he did last August, I'll have lots to report.

In addition to the Spanish mackerel, blues, and fluke, I caught a seven pound cobia, and Ryan told me about spotting them much larger frequently in the Inlet. It's the matter of tossing a four ounce bucktail and retrieving it past the fish quickly.This year we plan to fish off Portsmouth Island right where the Inlet meets ocean, having paid for a ride over and back in another tour skiff. I've got some three ounce bucktails and plan to fool around with them on my eight foot Tica--which won't handle four ounce bucktails--as well as fish killies for fluke. I hope my son succeeds at potting killies. They're not sold down there. Behind the house we're staying at, down where the long boardwalk over wetlands ends, a dockspace exists with three comfortable wooden chairs, perfect number for our family. Right off the dock killies swarm. So let's hope the minnow pot works with some fresh meat of some kind. The killies would be good at the Ocracoke Village launch ramp into Pamlico Sound too. All sorts of fish are available right there, even fluke on occasion.

Later in the week my son, Matt, and I will fish Rodanthe Pier. I know Hatteras Pier was out of commission last year, and as I think I recall so was the Avon Pier, or was that the pier we fished and will fish? Anyhow, pier fishing last year was fun especially for large pompano. Some Spanish came over the rails, but I never got one--in fact, I've been trying to pull a Spanish over a pier rail since I was 17. I've had some hits, but haven't caught a single one yet, plenty blues on the Gotcha jiggers, even some weakfish years ago. We have Berkeley Gulp! synthetic clam bait for black drums. Why? Because no one had fresh clams down here last summer. In 2005 we caught plenty fluke from Hatteras Pier, none in 2006 and last summer. Spot and croakers have been around all three times, and last summer Matt hooked a sting ray in the hundred pound class--he used a 10 foot surf rod, and a Penn Captiva 6000 reel fully loaded with 40 pound Power Pro braid. When the ray had pulled all--what, 200 yards?--of the braid but little that inevitably would be lost, I took the rod from Matt and pointed it directly at the fish so that the line would break. As I had hoped, it broke at the knot and all that expensive line was spared.

Lake Musconetcong Gray and Dead: Considering the Lake's New Environment

Six years ago I first took my son, Matt, to Lake Musconetcong. For five years, until May 2010, we fished the lake often in rowboats rented for 10 bucks, catching fish--largemouth, pickerel, or both--every time out. Before I took the shot above of Matt, I reminisced about these years, and when I saw the image on the camera screen, knew that this was the perfect way to end a personal history of the lake. And then I began to converse with him openly about all the good times and great fish we had caught.

Those cormorants are hawking them; you can see my close-up of a few. They eat nothing but fish, fairly good-size fish like six and seven-inch bass, even bigger. Look at those beaks and necks--they could strike and snake down a 12 inch pickerel with a moment's ease.

Not a hit this evening. We fished from 6:30 right up almost until dark. We used to catch bass and pickerel on hot August evenings after 98-degree afternoons. Plenty of clouds billowed high in the skies this evening, and temperatures remained about 68 degrees. We even saw shiners flicker at the surface in pods with nothing chasing them. Did the bass and pickerel die out, many of them?

The six fish my friend Steve Slota and I caught in May did not serve an average number, and the two bass I caught in July were far from that. I suppose I may try again next May, but I doubt this and feel I might otherwise betray the instance of the photograph I got of my son. We have other places to go, but it amazes me it's come to giving up on this lake. It was our favorite.

Water chestnuts have invaded. It's the way they're combatted here that's destroyed the lake, at least for indefinite years ahead. The chemical treatment has resulted in water, formerly of pristine clarity, off color and ugly. And the bass and pickerel which remain live in reduced habitat, while the cormorants can swim freely to eat them. 

 

Cormorants

Smallmouth Bass, Walleye Fishing: Annual Barryville, NY, Delaware River Float Trip

Ever since my friend Steve Slota introduced us to this area of the Delaware Wild & Scenic Rivers designation in 2004, we've been coming up to Barryville, NY, at least once annually to float trip by rented raft. Yesterday we actually went from Staircase to Matamoras (across from Port Jervis), but afterwards drove on up to Barryville for ice cream and one more crack at walleyes at a spot I know is good from shore. The best I've done on any of these trips by numbers is 16 smallmouths, and the largest of them 17 inches. One of us usually gets one close to 16 inches. My largest yesterday of six caught was a little over 14, maybe nearing 15. My son decided to just relax, read, and explore a cave.

Surprised at off-color water yesterday, it didn't phase me since walleyes typically hit better. I hooked one on a Rat-L-Trap in the typical 18-inch range, but lost it alongside the raft just as I had grabbed the net. Later, near dinnertime, I tried a section of current that cuts close to the bank in Barryville where, with similar water conditions, I caught four walleyes within an hour a few years ago on Rat-L-Traps. Not a hit yesterday, even with clouds and rain beginning to fall.

While float tripping, a lot seems random. We do use an anchor to give us some control. But typically close to half of our bass and walleyes get caught rather blindly, though out in mid-river where we can't see whatever rocks or boulders might have held the fish underneath. The best we do is keep the lure close to bottom, and doing that is inexact with spinnerbaits, Rat-L-Traps, and Rapala Countdowns. When using diving crankbaits, if I don't feel an occasional click of the lip hitting a rock, I change to something else I know will get deeper. I lose a lot of Rat-L-Traps because I do let them sink. Often as soon as the line slacks when the lure hits bottom, it's too late, it's snagged.

Jigs get lost plenty. Even the snagless jigs--snag. Nonetheless, my favorite water condition is fairly low and clear. I love to toss an 1/8th-ounce jig and try to dance it so that it keeps touching bottom, but doesn't snag. But the best number I scored, those 16 smallmouths, all came on a #9 Rapala floater. Water conditions low and clear, I caught most of these bass in very shallow pockets isolated in fast moving water.

I almost forgot to mention that my wife, Patricia, and black lab Sadie were along, I'm so used to either solo accounts, or those with my son. Last we visited Point Pleasant at the shore, Patricia got hit by a large wave and tore three ligaments in her right knee, so she's still using the brace until well after the surgery. Point Pleasant at high tide usually seems visited by those high rollers that break right onto the beach and pull back towards a sharp drop-off. The entire coastline is a narrative of current, depth and sand, but the waves can be treacherous. Since Patricia's injury, we've heard many stories, including one of a mid-30's phys-ed teacher who is now paralyzed from the neck down from body surfing.

On a lighter note--winged--we saw two juvenile bald eagles, which are common in this region of river and another specimen of lobelia, a flower.

It's fun, but I keep dreaming of a real good-size bass, and walleye. 

Franklin Parker Preserve New Jersey Pinelands/Fly Fishing North Branch Raritan

My computer is in the shop. Possibly I won't have it for more than two weeks, since we leave for Ocracoke, N.C., next weekend. I'm using my wife's laptop with no way to load images.

I took my fly rod over to the local North Branch Raritan this past Friday for an hour, catching a 9 1/2- inch smallmouth, missing a few others. I began to get a long back cast. Surprised that the excercise made my arm ache, I know now that I actually have to develop muscles to fly fish half decently. My son and I may go this coming Friday. Right now the river's turbid from yesterday's heavy downpour.

I had hoped to fish Delaware and Raritan Canal today--it's muddy.

My son and I visited Franklin Parker Preserve near Chatsworth in the Pine Barrens Saturday. Searching especially for pine snakes, we found fence lizards, brown skinks, American toads, and pickerel frogs. We hiked into Bald Eagle Reservoir with rods ready for pickerel. Sometimes you have to accept very little and glean some satisfaction from that. The reservoir was extremely shallow, but had some baitfish in very clear water. I found a cut along the bank way out near the west side that deepened to two feet. A small pickerel--11 inches or so--attacked my Chompers. (I couldn't begin to use a Rapala with all the weeds and even a Johnson Silver Minnow would have been entirely awkward in those shallows.) I spotted another the same size, nice to know they are present.

We later tried Chatsworth Lake. If anyone knows better, please tell me. I fished a Rapala, but the tannic acid stain is so thick the water was black like coffee, I couldn't see more than a few inches into it. I doubt any fish exist in the lake.

Novices Fly Fish the Flatbrook

The pictures are a little out of order since I cancelled a couple to select others. We began the day's adventure catching snakes on Wildcat Mountain. As I've noted before, my son wants to become a herpatologist. Snakes are fascinating and hard to find, but I can't believe the variety of species Matt's discovered over fairly recent years, beyond my wildest dreams as a boy when I was into this. He counted 14 copperheads yesterday, and caught three of the larger with his professional snake tongs. But the largest of these was much smaller than the mammoth we saw last time. He also caught a hognose snake, his first, and tried to get a watersnake on the Flatbrook. The hognose extremely agile, I had thought hognose slow. It flattened its head like a cobra, puffed up its body, and hissed like a cobra too.

We began fishing the Flatbrook at Shaffer's Bridge upstream. Many trout in one of the long stretches, but of course with the clear water and our novice fly fishing skills we got none to hit besides a three or four-inch brookie, and a few more about the same size in some pocket water. We spotted a couple dozen from about seven to 12 inches. We followed 615 down to Roy Bridge after following Flatbrook Road upstream from Shaffer's and trying another length. The deep pool below Roy looked promising, perhaps for a smallmouth. I had tied on a big, ugly size 4 nymph. And Matt did catch a tiny largemouth on his smaller nymph. That seemed ironic on the Flatbrook. Another pool downstream yielded nothing but the watersnake attempt.

We ended up visiting Buttermilk Falls and looking for more snakes in a fielded area with some flat boards to lift and find nothing but ants under them. We hoped for rat snakes and Matt felt surprised none had taken to the obvious cover where field mice surely abound. Further down we found a beautiful pool, but my big ugly nymph yielded nothing, nor Matt's smaller. I thought a smallmouth at least might hit. We saw nothing in the slightly tannic water, no minnows, smallmouth, panfish, trout, nothing. At Shaffer's Bridge the brook full of baitfish enticed, but finally we wound up at the bridge that leads out towards Route 80 and etc. Dusk fell as Matt reported a single splash rise and a hit.

That's a lobelia, cardinal flower, I photographed. Haven't seen this plant in several years. About 10 years ago some organization in Bernardsville actually grew them along the bank of the pond (protected by fencing) in town near the fire station beside Route 202. Believe it or not, trout holdover in that pond. Another organization stocks them for the kids. We catch them in August, at least we did every year we used to fish there. I once caught a 13-inch rainbow on a five-inch Senko intended for a bass. And the first time I fished the pond, caught a 14-inch rainbow on a 3/8th-ounce spinnerbait.

Very satisfying day. My only regret is that I never thought to suggest that Matt use his fisheye lens on the mountain ranges. In total, 149 miles of driving, and that number sticks out in my mind, because it's the figure of Jim Morrison's reported IQ. The leader of the rock band, the Doors, and poet in his own right, although unfortunately, he never developed his art to the degree he hoped. Ride the snake. 

I didn't expect to walk and wade the Flatbrook for a very long distance. I decided instead to sample pools along most of its length. Once I knew we weren't going to catch any trout in a pool full of them, I started thinking smallmouth anyway. But that photo below of my son in the deep dusk is a good one, and he took a hit as I might have yet expected, if only slightly.

Shepherd Lake under Sunshine and Heat

It wasn't as expected. I looked out over the lake with clear, cloudless sky and a breeze and felt the glory of our recent introduction to Shepherd Lake, to which I hoped to return, feeling reduced to the thinness of the air. I don't at all know what it is, but to be greeted with a sunny breeze for a summer morning's fishing is a very bad sign. We rowed off at 8:30 a.m. Not only does Shepherd Lake not open until 8:00, officially, the state personnel for Ringwood State Park do not open the gate until 8:15. I made this situation an issue with them.

"Well, we get here just about now," one of the two young women said.

"Then you should state in your literature and on that post that it opens at 8:15."

The other young woman gave me a sugary smile, and said, "Have a nice day."

Imagine if Dow's Boat Rentals, claiming to open at 5:00 a.m., opened at 5:15. It's unimaginable in the private sector. Nevertheless, I was having a good day; complaining to the staff didn't phase me at all. But as soon as we rowed off onto the lake I knew it was doom--not them, the fishing situation.

My son had been very interested in holdover trout, so I bought a dozen live herring in Wanaque. Too large. We gave the lake a long drift anyhow, and then I offered that he use them for pickerel. 

It didn't take long before he hooked a very nice fish--it tore drag before the hook tore free--10 feet directly under the boat over 19 feet of water about five yards from a weedline. But fishing remained very slow for the next four hours. I worked that favorite Chompers worm through the weeds, along the weeds, and out away from the weeds and never got a hit. I fished over the weeds with a Dying Flutter and a PopR on top hopelessly. I had gone for the net confidently when Matt hooked that big one, as if he'd really score--as it should be--and forever after the day was a drag, but peppered with hope. 

Matt caught a pickerel on the herring, I lost a nice crappie on herring at boatside and missed a hit on a nightcrawler I had let dangle under the boat, apparently a bass, no sunfish for certain. Speaking of which--Matt fished nightcrawlers, I think two to be exact. He never got a hit from a sunfish or perch. That's a radical difference from last time when he hooked them left and right.

It was tough. 

Where are the Carp?

We arrived at Route 665 bridge over Lamington River shortly after 10:00 a.m. Viewing the stretch from the bridge, immediate evidence suggested it had been siltrated since we last saw it. Sure enough, the other side too. We spotted quite a few bass, and water clarity was very good, but we never wetted a line. Having seen not a single carp, I drove us downstream along Burnt Mills Road where I had spotted carp in the past. Again, some bass, no carp along about a hundred yards of bank trail. I had hoped for an easy, short trip, then I would get a lot of writing done this afternoon and evening. But we headed home, five minutes away, to get a Hagstrom map and head for the South Branch Raritan. Somewhere on this river the state record 47 pound carp was caught. I also took some heavier tackle along with 10 pound instead of six pound test.

Plenty of parking is available just above the North-South Branch confluence. The water under, upstream, and downstream of the bridge over the last stretch of North Branch is deep enough for carp, but we spotted no fish whatsoever. Beckoning just downstream at the confluence and the mouth of the South Branch is a beautiful, deep hole. This is clearly evident by the color tone of the water. But the edge of river downstream is deep muck, and no trails lead out through the thick vegetation from the parking area or other side. I wasn't about to try to bushwack through the briars, stinging nettle, and thistles, etc. etc. I told my son perhaps a big pike is guarding that confluence and mused about some day launching a canoe or small boat.

We drove upstream of the confluence along the South Branch to the first bridge, parked, and scouted this stretch. We had fished it about five years ago and memory returned--I had seen no carp, and we saw none today, nor did we come upon any very deep water upstream. We could walk until we found deep water, I considered, but I was still in "easy trip" mode. We drove on upstream, another bridge near Neshanic Valley Golf Course without access, and then very familiar territory at Neshanic Station where I catch bass and trout, and never have seen a carp.

Meanwhile I had told Matt about carp in Spruce Run--those are the fish we see jumping in April.

"Oh yeah!"

But I want to catch them in a stream, and my hunch is that Spruce Run would be hit or miss. I know an eight foot deep hole in Stony Brook, Princeton Township, which always has held carp, and in fact my nephew caught a five pounder and four rainbow trout on corn there last August. We used to swim in this hole, and if it doesn't have a spring at the bottom of it, nevertheless its depths are cold. So we would perhaps first try a stretch where I hooked a 20 pounder using a bunker-snag treble very many years ago. That's a lot bigger than five pounds. If it has no carp these days, as carp that were abundant not long ago in the Lamington seem gone altogether now, we would go to the eight foot hole.

So, earlier plans frustrated, I began to really look forward to fishing carp this evening. Now that blazing heat in brilliant sun is a dull warmth under thickening clouds, and you guessed what's on the radar bearing down on Princeton.

I do hope we get out for the carp this year. We meant to last year.