Productive Trout Jigging

Hit the river for half hour or 45 minutes, casting a black maribou jig, 1/16th ounce, on four-and-a-half foot St. Croix ultralight. That rod I used for the first time. I believe it casts the jig a lot shorter than the five-and-a-half-foot ultralight I made from a St. Croix blank.

Saw a lot of trout by use of polarizers. I noticed that some were more aggressive than others. At first, trout would chase the jig but not hit. Steady retrieve with rod jerks. Then I went upstream and two trout swooped on it. They wouldn't commit. Their noses got within millimeters of the hook. It's amazing to see how discerning they can be. 

I cast upstream and got a definite bump. I saw the trout turn, too. Pretty soon, I got absolutely slammed. The trout measured only 12 1/2 inches long, but chunky. 

Went upstream further to find nothing but water that was too shallow. And after all the rain we recently had.

Went back down. There were two guys just a little downstream staying in place. Learned they'd caught none. I found trout much less interested than when I first cast to them upon arrival. I went downstream and found an open space where I could cast from high up on the bank...and descend to the river edge if necessary. Became necessary. I had got bump when I saw that fish turn, too, and more close follows. Finally, wham! 

That one measured 14 inches.

New Jersey Trout Fishing

What is It with Fish Limits?

After a couple of cancellations due to weather, I got to fish Barnegat Inlet with Fred today, seeking that elusive first take-home tog. I caught a 17-incher in June 2022, out of season. Today, my first hookup felt like a really nice fish, which I managed to keep out of the rocks and bring up on the jetty. Measured 16 inches, so it went into the bag. I raised issue with Fred about replacing it with larger later on, and he reminded me that we're allowed one apiece, so it's no problem. I hoped to hook a four- or five-pounder but I was just dreaming.

I hooked some nice fish I lost, but four or five pounds? 

We caught 30 or 40 tog, I'm guessing that's about what it was. A lot of tog. For a species as tightly protected as this one is--but what species isn't anymore, even bluefish are limited to three, while on the freshwater side of rules and regulations you can wipe out a bass pond in a week--I couldn't help but laugh at the government. What do I know? Well, hits from tog on every cast. I know that much. 

Fred had a hell of a day. How can you blame a guy who wants to bring dinner home? And so much better than cashing out at the supermarket. Tog after tog he caught measured 14 inches or better. One of them measured 14 7/8 inches. Seven or eight of  them were 14 1/2 inches. 

Fred's friend Jimmy

Fred's astonishment at measuring a 14 7/8-inch tog.

Inlet

 

Narrowing It Down to the Big One

 

Our Lake Hopatcong ritual remains potent as the 20th fall of my getting on the water there approaches. I've invested good money in renting boats from Dow's. On the way to the Ledge or possibly Sunken Island, Jimmy Welsh swept by us in his center console. I was certain he headed for Sunken Island, and when I saw him there, I stopped short at the right-angle turn of the Ledge, immediately marking loads of fish. 

As expected.

There was no wind. That made putting out unweighted herring easy. With four herring lines over the side, I also put a nightcrawler out, by which I quickly caught a white perch. And then herring lines ran though rod guides. I caught and released a 16-inch hybrid, then caught the 4.8-pounder photographed later in the afternoon (below). It had died in the livewell. My wife and I will have it for dinner tonight.

I missed the hit from another hybrid. Setting the hook too soon may be better than setting it too late. After that, I maneuvered the boat with my electric behind an island with no sun on the water. Overhead, not a cloud in the sky.

Kevin quickly caught a smallmouth bass of about 14 inches on a nightcrawler. Got that worm close to rocks. I ended up catching two largemouths on a Senko, losing a nice one on that blue-purple worm and missing another hit. I got a smallmouth on a live herring and a nice black crappie on another of the same. 

I very much enjoyed throwing the Senko. (Actually a Yum Dinger.) Fly casting isn't the only way for fishing line to satisfy. Putting a worm--repeatedly--right where you want it to go is fun. And once and awhile a bass takes that worm. 

We had two dozen live herring and I felt determined to use them. I told Kevin about the time I caught a six-pound walleye on the Ledge at about 2:00 p.m. shortly before my son and I would leave, under a cloudless sky. Today, I had caught what were as yet my only two hybrids before the sun rose. The sun came up shortly after I weighed my big one. No necessity existed that would limit us to that catch owing to the conditions, but I wasn't entirely confident that the Ledge would work out for us. But we would mark fish. 

So, well, we should work for them!

A slight breeze had come up. Unweighted herring rode pretty high over fish marking as deep as 33 feet, as the boat slowly eased along the drop-off towards Halsey Island. Water temperature was 64 when we got on the lake; now it approached the mark of 70 where it would be when we left. Obviously, the lake had turned over quite a bit, though today's heat ran contrary to that. I did miss a hit, and immediately thereafter noticed big fish marking only eight feet down, but I'd say 95 percent or more of the fish were deep. 

I put medium split shots on our four lines. Some of our herring died, needing oxygen. They were getting down on bottom about 38 feet deep. So I looked for smaller shot, found some, and situated them about six feet up the line from the herring. The idea was to give the bait some mobility with the lighter weight, as well as the ability to swim above that weight, should it get down on bottom too deep.

The breeze ceased. A little fine-tuning of our position by use of the electric motor resulted in a couple of little 14- and 15-inch hybrids for me. We floated over the drop-off at 38 feet where fish marked at 31 to 33 feet deep. Where we had fished over 30 feet of water, no fish marked on the graph. Then the breeze picked back up. I repositioned with the electric and lowered anchor. We continued using the little shot, and Kevin caught a hybrid over 16 inches. I caught a smallmouth bass. Kevin caught a big bullhead by turn. 

And then I said, "Kevin." I had seen his rod tip lower. He wasn't paying attention, but it became immediately evident he had hooked a big one. The fish took off on such a sustained run, I wondered if he'd hooked a musky. Or, more likely, a big channel catfish. I would have to coach him. He's not very experienced and I knew the fish was no easy. "Pump the rod. Then reel as you lower the tip back down. Then pump again. Keep a bend in the rod." He kept reeling as the fish took drag, but his getting the pumping motion right enough was critical to getting the fish to the net. It took a long while. 

"Look at the size of that fish! It's eight or nine pounds!" I said, having just netted the biggest hybrid I'd ever seen besides a mounted eight-pounder and a huge hybrid I witnessed getting caught from shore at Spruce Run Reservoir. I weighed Kevin's at 7.73 pounds. Quarter pound shy of eight. It measured 27 inches long. 

4.8 Pounds

Not a bad smallmouth.

I do like catching bass on these Hopatcong outings.

They always appear pretty.

Hopatcong crappies can be pretty big.

Little hybrids fight hard too.

Trolled Hybrids
 

Tough September Largemouths and Pickerel

Tough day. The fish probably gorged during yesterday's rain. And though I don't think temps ever got above 70 today, the water was 74 degrees; overall I felt a sense in the air of fall definitely coming but not quite here with water that warm. Christopher Smith, one of New Jersey's fisheries biologists, once said to me that he finds September to be one of the toughest months to fish bass. He's big on bass fishing and knows his stuff. Later in October, bass go on the finny forage chase and will smash spinnerbaits, Chatterbaits, jerkbaits, and other lures that cover range quickly. 

We got on the lake, and I threw one cast with a Chatterbait, then switched to a Senko. Just followed my fish sense, sure that no bass was going to chase it down. Brenden persistently threw a jig with a spinner blade underneath--like a Roadrunner but bigger--so we had an idea about how the bass were reacting to flash and fury. Nothing ever hit that lure. Brenden caught his bass on a little Z-Man paddletail. Also a sunfish.

"I was hoping the water would be down to 72," I told Brenden. That's my magic mark for the initiation of fall bass fishing. (When Round Valley surface temp falls to 70, you can catch rainbow trout from shore.)  

It seemed to take forever to hook up. I had long since switched out my Senko for the blue Chompers on an inset hook to better deal with the weeds. Finally I caught the little 12-inch bass photographed below. On another spot, I caught the pickerel and another bass the same size. I worked the worm about six to 12 feet down. 

We had marked some good-sized fish about that deep off the weedline by five or six yards, so we gave trolling diving plugs a good try but to no success. We also saw a salmon leap three feet out of the water. Brenden got the better sighting and said it was 20 inches long or better. Why did that happen? I have no idea. Seventy-four degree water.

I tried trolling the Phoebe. Between spots. 

The sun would set within a half hour, and so we pulled up on weedbeds that sloped off into deep water and in places dropped off, where my son, Matt, and I have caught many bass at sundown. My first cast got right next to weed at the surface, when a second later I saw the line move. I tightened up to set the hook, but the bass was diving into deep water so fast it had moved about 12 feet before I knew the hook was secure. It went airborne and impressed both of us as a five pounder, but it proved to be less than three pounds at 17 inches. 

We kept trying. The lake seemed almost as dead as December. Brenden later told me that when he went to collect the last of our belongings, he saw fog rising off the lake. Temps had plunged into the 50's.   

Hopatcong Early June

 

Bedminster Pond by Bike

Bedminster Pond, August 2017

(He wanted to drain the swamp.)

And the open water--as stated in my August 2017 blog post "Lush Closure on Famous Bedminster Pond"--is an illusion. Only some 15 feet of it exist there, inches deep.

Different thought-levels for different folks.

But I was especially moved to write the present post out of a feeling of deep affinity for that pond. Recently, you've probably read a lot of my words about the closure of parking there, making fishing the pond just after sundown all but impossible. It can be done with a bicycle. The Bedminster Hike & Bike Trail.

We're all aware of love for places, and the many ways such love is lost, though we do fight back when they're taken from us. I wrote an angry "Letter to the Editor," Bernardsville News. And various blog posts. 

Interestingly, it was the year before, March, when--having finished a fishing stint there--it came over me as I walked to my car that I might be done fishing the pond. That was before I knew anything about parking closures coming. 

But I was ahead of the game in the 2017 blog post, too, and I'll leave you a link to it. (The first half or so is difficult to read.) Especially read the second half between the lines. The post ends on the word "closure." 

The Swamp

 

River Bass

The One

On the Water        Got the essay on river smallmouths published in the print edition...2018 I'm sure it was. I rue the fact that I judged my 19 3/8-inch smallmouth weighed an ounce or so over four pounds. It was a chunk, but probably weighed an ounce or two under. 

Have been very busy since 2017. The trout book is pretty much done. So now I need a website with a domain I own. Build that myself. Have been published recently in Tail fly fishing magazine, The Drake, and The New Jersey Monthly. Even more importantly, I'm always getting published in The Fisherman. And New Jersey Federated Sportsmen's News finally has a new editor. I've already sent him an article. There you can find some of the best from anywhere in the world. 

Got Over to a Favorite Spot

Would've been an odd year had I never fished my favorite river bass spot. I know I like to let old haunts go and find new water, but after 14 years here, I doubt this one will ever pass before I do.

I like to be in the water wading well before sunup, but I was up late last night, so I didn't get to the river until well after 11:00. I cast that little paddletail jig into shadow remaining out from the bank facing me, but after more than a dozen casts working the hole's headwaters in addition to that shade, all I got was one hit, which might have been a sunfish.

I started working my way down towards the tree with the rope swing (what's left of it), and about midway, had some action on a Senko. I missed a hit and then another. That second fish pulled my four-incher off the hook. 

So I made my way back for another, took note of the fact that I had used black when the water is almost gin-clear and the sun is high overhead. Switched to white/green. Five inches. That also worked, in the same spot. I hooked a bass for a second that felt half decent. Then another one pulled THAT Senko off the hook. This time I attached my O-ring tool to my belt, and put Senkos in a pocket.

Never had need of either, but I caught a couple of average stream bass. The second one I caught as I was nearly done fishing, near where I placed my camera bag, so I got a shot of that one. Had to leave because I have a dentist appointment this afternoon, and I had left my mobile device in my car, possibly to roast in the heat. Whatever the eventuality, I didn't know what time it was.

I got home plenty early, feeling really good about having got over there. I have done well in midday heat other times there, but it always seem a really good bass is vulnerable to a topwater plug early.

 Nice calm surface