Persistent High Water South Branch Raritan River

At least the warm weather is lingering, 90 degrees today. Last year almost to the day I caught a four-pound smallmouth after a night in the upper 40's, the water chilly on my calves. That day, water level was low, water clear the way I like it. The first part of this summer saw lots of rain, and in the news, climate change suggests we can expect rainy summers in New Jersey. I dreaded results for my river smallmouth fishing. But then at least this summer the rain stopped and things dried up. At present, the North Branch Raritan running through the town of my residence is barely flowing, but the South Branch roars on through with somewhat stained clarity. Last week, I watched as dry rocks became submerged before my eyes, yet it hadn't rained in days. They must be releasing a lot of water from Spruce Run Reservoir.

Today I had only 20 minutes to fish for a break in my travels. I missed hits from three or four bass, and besides one of them that would have qualified as an average stream bass, I think these were very small fish trying to force my five-inch Senko-type worm into their gullets. I also tried a #9 Rapala, which I do OK with in the fall when forage availability begins to shift especially to baitfish, but got no hits. I noticed a small bass leap for a damselfly, a very summery sight.

That's the fifth time I've fished the South Branch this summer, and the first I've posted on it, besides notice about a parking area where we're no longer allowed access. That day I didn't fish. I've caught some small bass, but not in numbers. I fished the North Branch only once for smallmouths this year and caught a small one on a short stint. Mostly, I've been disappointed at South Branch stream levels too high for the sort of quiet fishing when a plastic worm is highly visible to bass and more in my control. I'm more interested in the South Branch, as if the easy familiarity with the river running through town has made me averse to fishing it. My wife and I hike along the North Branch virtually every weekend. Nevertheless, despite high levels, each time I've visited the South Branch, it's rewarded me with pleasant release from daily pressures, and I believe I'll return at least one more time this September before the trout crowds respond to the fall stocking.

Culvert Attracts Bass after Rain

Stint at my neighborhood bass pond. You can see in the photograph the phosphate line extending from the culvert. We had some rain earlier, not enough to muddy water pretty turbid to begin with, but certainly to have put a scent trail out leading to the wash. Not that bass are privy to pollution. I guess other scents are more interesting to them.

I sailed a cast towards the concrete barrier and the worm struck down right on target, about two inches from the edge. The Strike King Senko-type descended perhaps a couple of feet, and I felt the tick, tightened the line, which visibly moved to the left into the center of the pool, and set the hook into a nice bass. It would have tipped the scale at over two pounds.

I cast to the culvert again and missed the hit from a small bass. Next I cast along the edge of the bank beyond, and got nothing. I moved further along towards the bunch of vegetation visible on shore in the photograph below and sailed a cast to splash the worm next to floating algae scum. The line jumped to life before the worm could have sunk a foot. I set the hook once the line tightened and a small bass waterskied across the surface to me, a bass between nine and ten inches long, relatively rare in this pond, which has been full of two-pounders for two or three years, although this year the fish population clearly seems to have decreased. 

I'm slightly concerned about the lack of algae mats. They're simply natural in this pond that gets a lot of road runoff, and never have affected negatively the multitudinous bass population. I must have fished 20 minutes.  

Light was lower than this appears compared to the bass photo. I shot the former on a setting w/flash and much faster shutter speed.

Fred's Secret Spot North Jersey Bass

Fred took me to his secret spot, a series of ponds in North Jersey, which for a few years yielded many bass for him, including some in the three-pound range. We fished Senko-type worms until dusk, when we switched to topwaters, fishing a final pond he hadn't tried yet, getting no hits. We caught lots of bass on the worms, although all of these fish were peculiarly small.

Fred thought the most about the situation, since he had been successful in the past. He said that a killer winter like the one we still seem to have just got through sometimes produces fish die-off in shallow ponds, a reality I'm familiar with going way back. Who knows. Maybe all the larger bass are gone and only dinks managed to survive.

In any case, I began fishing after a very stressful day at work, my head sort of swimming in conflicts, while I managed, no less, to converse and get along just fine, no need of disclosing my discomfort. When I began catching bass, my mood began to loosen up and I felt enjoyment begin to replace dread. Not that this wasn't expected. I knew, back at work, that once I got out fishing, I would move into a much better place, but it did take a couple of fish to put me there, not that Fred's company didn't help. The funny thing about fishing is that catching some really makes a difference.

We got to the second pond and pop, bang--each of us caught bass on our first casts. I felt interested, and I walked swiftly all the way around and across to the other side, expectant of the shadows. Nothing. Neither of us got another hit.

At the third pond, we caught plenty. I realized I wasn't being quite active enough. Fred switched to a fat eight-inch worm and rigged it with a big inset hook. With this, he reached the big scum mats far out in the shallow pond's center. That's where a big bass would be. He caught a nine-inch bass on a worm that must have weighed a large percentage in comparison to the fish's weight. I got up and walked on around and towards a far corner, dodging sticks and fallen tree trunks, really getting into the sport of pitching and casting accuracy among scum mats, fishing a Wacky rig, hook exposed. I wasn't really lazy, though I could have rigged inset. What was the use with algae? It gets all over the hook anyhow. My fun involved pitching perfectly into pockets. I caught some bass. Then I lost the worm to a snag before I quite reached the corner.

I had just enough stepping in and around the pond in the woodland to feel young again, as if I were 17. I think that getting outdoors and doing maneuvers that require some effort is very healthy. Since it brings out youth in you--you feel this--it rejuvenates the body in turn. The youth you feel is not an illusion.

We had great conversation riding home. We spoke about past jobs we've had and adventures on them. I was the one who brought up Scottsdale, AZ, huge banquet dinners, all the beer and wine we wanted, and hauling six packs back to our rooms and private parties. This during the mid-90's boom. That was interesting--to say the least--and I can remember compelling conversations during those private parties, but I thought of the weight I've lost recently, and thought of the health the outdoors doesn't only inspire, but actually produces, and while I'm not ashamed of my employment adventures, I think too much of an economic boom would kill everyone involved by the degrees of its decadence, at least with the set of values in vogue during the 90's.

 None of our bass were much larger than this.

The magic hour

Wild & Scenic Delaware River Smallmouth Bass Float Trip

Our annual Barryville float trip proved to be a wonderful time. They had about seven inches of rain Thursday up there, and the river rose, of course. I spoke to Joni at Reber Rafting Friday. She said the river flowed brown but not too high and to phone her in the morning. Water must have been low, because today, Saturday, it was off color but not too bad. The Laxawaxan flowed muddier and added stain. (We always eat lunch at the confluence and the Zane Grey museum when we clock the five-mile trip.)

We began fishing Rat-L-Trips. With water off color, yet returning to normal, I thought of walleye. Nothing happened halfway to Zane Grey, so I reached for my box of jigs. I realized then that I had forgotten my two tubs of Berkeley Gulp! Leeches. This was off-putting, since the leeches have become my favorite Delaware presentation. I put a three-inch yellow twister grub on an eighth-ounce jig and quickly caught a longear or red bellied sunfish. I was thinking of an alternative, since bright yellow under dark sky and in dark water isn't quite right. I remembered I put a pack of Keitech Custom Worms in my tackle tote for Maine. These inspired by my friend Fred, who used them on Round Valley fairly recent. If you remember the old Ringworms from the late 70's, these are like a knockoff, only with a paddle tail and fishy scent. The rings trap air bubbles. The color smoky and dark, they seemed to suit the situation best.

And pretty soon I was into smallmouth bass. Matt never switched from the Rat-L-Trap and didn't fish much, content to lay back and read. I fished a wide gap, eighth-ounce jig, having broken off the stubby jig, deciding it wasn't quite what I wanted.

Most of the bass hit in faster shallow water. We let the raft drift and I simply pitched the jig and bounced it off bottom almost vertically. Especially in small eddies behind big boulders with about three to four feet of water, the bass were there and willing, a lot of fun. I felt like I could have fished this way for many hours on end. We were on the river at least six hours and it felt like a journey. I brought one of my 10-pound mushroom anchors, and we made a few stops.

Once, I reverted to the Rat-L-Trap and fished very thoroughly where rapids had begun to slow. We had just witnessed two guys in another raft, one of the men nailed a walleye about 18 or 19 inches long. In my river experience, walleye have bunched together with water conditions just like this, and we've nailed them one after another on Rat-L-Traps.

As many of us know, walleye have a tapidum lucidum for each eye, which is how they get their name, and this retinal structure advantages eyesight in dark water, including water that is stained, so long as some visibility is possible. I fished long and hard, fan casting the area, but got not a hit from varied retrieves. First I cast and simply retrieved at moderate rate, hoping fish would active enough would chase the lure down. I progressively slowed retrieve until I risked losing the lure to a snag. I tried lift and drop retrieves in between.

Then we went off downriver and I had fun with bass on the jig. Walleye would certainly hit it too, and I really don't know why we didn't encounter any, only that walleye are in general a much less frequent catch.

My favorite shoreline we didn't fish. We ran a little late and had to paddle. That's really the only disappointment I can think of. Once I was into fish on the Keitechs, I forgot all about my leeches.

Reber River Trips bus

Lake Musconetcong Water Quality Suffers Weed Killer

One look at the water, and I knew likelihood of catching bass was slim. "Spinnerbaits work in mud like this," I said. I really didn't know if many bass remained to respond.

Lake Musconetcong used to have beauty in the clarity of water, the varied greens and reds of aquatic vegetation, and the natural color tone of the few rocks protruding above surface. The water is deeply stained now not because of rain. Aquatic vegetation filters a lake's water by absorbing nitrogen and phosphorous feeding minute particles of algae. And when a lake is loaded with weed killer, the decaying vegetation adds to the lake's turbidity. Only by leaving the lake alone to let nature heal can the vegetation return and water clarify, fish populations increase and the cormorant population dwindle, since these voracious diving birds can't swim through thick aquatic vegetation. It may take many years, but Lake Musconetcong will return to health if it is allowed. 

No one we saw did any water skiing. I haven't seen any evidence of water skiing all summer.

I was there in 2009. A red carpet covered much of the lake. However, fish populations throve. I have fishing log figures to show that the fishing was good. It was very good. Pockets existed in the weeds. Weedlines provided cover edges. And bass and pickerel hit right through the weeds with scum frogs and Phatrats fished on top of the masses. Could you navigate a boat? Rowing was trying. Electric outboards impossible. But, yes, we got around by rowing. It took effort, wasn't easy. Not everything worthwhile in life is easy, but by the evidence of what I've read, water chestnuts create an anoxic condition that would eventually kill all the fish in the lake.

Rather than resort to chemicals, which have in fact done as I've described, I have visions of dozens of laborers hired to work in flatboats over the course of a few summers, rooting out this infestation. Examples on the web show this approach works. I have no information to judge how many years Lake Musconetcong will be stained, fish populations dwindling, before the chestnuts get eradicated and the lake let be to clear, fish populations coming back. I hope that day comes, but no evidence I've read suggests that water chestnuts have ever been eradicated entirely by either chemical or manual means, and the "chestnut" seed pods can lay dormant as many as 12 years before sprouting new, rapidly infesting plant life.

So if the lake is allowed to breathe again and fish populations return, it's possible water chestnuts will return with them. The best approach clearly is manual removal, the employment of many people and lots of equipment when needed in the interest of preserving the lake's clear water quality, water filtered by abundant aquatic vegetation other than water chestnuts, which keeps the numbers of fish-hoarding cormorants much lower also. Where's the money for this in New Jersey? I'm assuming manual removal is more costly than the funds Lake Musconetcong Planning Board paid to the company that administered weed killer. So the lake is a mess because we've done it the easy way, apparently cost effective. What other way is possible? Manual removal is possible to an imaginative mind, not to politics as usual in the state today, by all appearances.

 Fred fishes a spinnerbait unsuccessfully.

 Cormorant on a previously brown rock, whitened by cormorant excrement.

 This filthy rock, thick with cormorant excrement and once brown, stands out visibly white all the way across the lake, as if vandalized.
Cormorants have free reign to swim now that vegetation doesn't stop them. Their numbers have increased dramatically. I once read that a single cormorant eats 10 pounds of fish a day.

 Look at that brown water. My lens has a polarizing filter. Previous years, you could see the bottom clearly, five feet down.

 Stanhope Bait & Boat is a baitfish hub for the whole region, but virtually no one fishes the lake now, except for catfish. And if you want big ones, do come and buy bait here and you can catch them off the dock out back. Fifteen pounds this summer.

Are there any bass left? We got skunked.

18 Inch Bass Caps the Day at Neighborhood Pond

Fished my neighborhood bass pond for more than a half hour as evening approached. The water was still as glass. I began with my favorite Baby Torpedo topwater even though, owing to experience, I didn't expect it would work. I've caught a lot of bass on Rapalas under windy conditions here, but if my memory doesn't fail, I've caught only one bass on a strict topwater. I really don't know why. The pond is very shallow. My son has caught dozens on buzzbaits, and often in the middle of the afternoon.

So getting no attention, I switched to the reliable Senko, soon hooking a little 11 incher. Further up the shoreline, I got a hit from a good sized bass, felt weight on hookset but lost the fish.

I just took my time slow, as the fishing was slow, and enjoyed grass under bare feet. I didn't expect a bass when I felt resistance while fluttering the Wacky retrieve. I really thought it must be vegetation. When I saw line moving swiftly aside, I set, and I was into a nice bass, estimating the fish at three pounds, at least. It weighs a little more than that. I measured it at 18 inches, and it wasn't skinny, although not especially fat.

Topwater Bass at Jefferson Lake, Morris County, NJ

Jefferson Lake, Morris County, NJ, new to us, I felt happy when the first bass sucked down my Baby Torpedo. We fished for 20 minutes or so, and the feeling grew ominous as if we might get skunked. Shortly after I released this bass, I caught another about the same size on the Torpedo, which I never changed for anything else. About to switch to a plastic worm when the first bass hit, pulling the plug under with barely a dimple of evidence, I let that notion go.

We marked water as deep as 12 feet, most of the depth in the 10-foot range. We tried another, broader cove. Matt got a hit, unmistakably a bass. We motored over to the big island with the 55-pound thrust Minn Kota. I fished very carefully, very sensitively, imparting all the life I could give the little plug one size larger than the Tiny Torpedo, heavy enough to cast a good distance on 15-pound Power Pro low-diameter braid, but not far as some heavier plugs I thought of using instead. I stuck it out.

I spliced braid to 15-pound fluorocarbon leaders, avoiding barrel swivels more prone to collecting weeds or spooking wary bass. And we kept on fishing into sunset, feeling as if this lake is a real loser. I talked about how the water seemed too turbid, but it really isn't bad, just not strikingly clear the way I like a lake.

Nevertheless, Jefferson didn't let us down. All the way in back of a small cove--a tight space between shore and thick weeds--I hooked another bass about the same size, then boated another a few minutes later. All this time, the inflatable felt comfortable as a bean bag chair. Efficient in getting everything set up, we found it served purpose all round. By comparison, in metal boats or fiberglass canoes, it's all too easy to knock about and spook fish in a large radius.

As dusk fell deeply, I hooked and caught the fifth bass. I fish a topwater persistently and carefully. My son couldn't keep up, but he very much enjoyed this outing. He just didn't cast as accurately. I placed the plug perfectly next to weedlines twice to catch a couple of my bass, and the other fish responded to intentional casting also.

We unloaded everything, emptied the air, and packed up in no time, stopping at Quick Check in Byram, guess it is, bought cashews and almonds and a beef jerky for Matt.