hotrod jigs
I recently found some old pictures of myself in diapers, standing beside a small wooden boat parked in front of a Tennessee farmhouse. Towering above me was my father, and at my bare feet was a nice stringer of fat largemouth bass. Did I catch them? Probably not, but like any good fisherman, I’ll happily take the credit. I might even tell you a tall tale about how – at the ripe old age of two – I tricked them into biting a lure that I hand carved from a boar’s tusk with a Bowie knife, and how they pulled harder than a Smoky Mountain mule.
There’s no doubt that I owe much of what I know about fishing to my father. There’s nothing better than fishing with family. All three of my sons have become first-class fishermen. This week I’ve been fishing with my family’s next generation of anglers. I’ve had a great time on the water with my son Daniel and my granddaughter Ella. I’m happy to report that Chesapeake Bay salinity levels are finally climbing back toward normal levels (see chart below), although they’re still low. Since conditions are stablizing, striped bass fishing is getting a little more reliable. That isn’t to say some days aren’t better than others, but we’re at the point where I at least think we can count on a few fish on any given outing.
Channel catfish at Hackett’s Bar, carp at the Bay Bridge, snakeheads in St. Jerome’s Creek, and very few stripers in their usual haunts around Kent Island – what’s up with all this late-spring craziness in the Chesapeake Bay? Most fishermen are blaming salt, or more specifically, a lack thereof. Very wet weather in the Susquehanna River watershed has meant lots of fresh water entering the Bay. It’s highly unusual for the Bay to be this fresh in June. Some stations are reporting the lowest readings in recorded history. Salinity is expressed in parts per thousand (ppt), in other words, the number of grams of dissolved salts present in 1,000 grams of water. The water in the Atlantic Ocean is about 35 ppt. Surface salinity today at the Gooses Reef Buoy in the Mid-Chesapeake Bay is 2.0 ppt. That’s low! For better striped bass fishing, we need more salt.
Fishermen have long recognized the importance of locating comfort zones where fish prefer to stay, but sometimes that isn’t so easy. Fishing in late May and early June is usually a challenge, but low salinity levels have made it especially difficult this year. Complicating the matter is that he water can be a lot saltier on the bottom of the Bay than it is on top this time of year. Since, in addition to surface observations, The Gooses Reef Buoy also provides salinity readings from the bottom of the Bay, we can see that it’s currently 7.1 ppt. That’s over three times saltier than it is on the surface. Read More!
Radios blaring, airplanes buzzing, stereos thumping, outboards droning, helicopters whirring, sirens wailing - Wow! I spent a lot of my time on the water this weekend just listening. Boat shows, trolling tournaments, and sailing regattas made the main stem of the Chesapeake very noisy. The Bay is fully awake from her winter slumber and the crowds are back in force. While we each enjoy the water in our preferred ways, to my thinking fishing should include elements of solitude and stealth. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather pick up aluminum cans at rush hour along I-95 than try to pick off rockfish in the main channel on a busy weekend. I prefer to look off the beaten path for places where I can tune-in to something a little more pleasing than the clamorous dissonance of the masses. At this busy time of the year, I want to listen for the sounds of laughter.
At least they must have been precious in his sight last weekend when an epic spring storm kept many fishermen off the Bay on the opening day of Maryland’s striped bass catch-and-kill season. Water temperatures are lower than usual this April, so there are lots of pre-spawn fish still moving up the Bay. I’d guess at least a couple of thousand more roe-laden cows made it to the spawning grounds this weekend that otherwise wouldn’t have, but for the storms. Let’s hope that translates into millions of additional baby rockfish. Even though I usually root for the fish, I still get excited about opening weekend because the recreational rockfish season in Maryland is definitely worth celebrating. With all the commercial poaching we saw this winter, it’s amazing to me that there are any fish left to catch. Since there are still a few around, let’s thank the Lord for that too!
No, it’s not the opening weekend of striped bass catch-and-kill season in Maryland’s Chesapeake Bay. That doesn’t happen until April, 16th. The opening I’m speaking of is the first day of baseball season. The Baltimore Orioles played their home opener today. Since they’re undefeated so far this season, there’s been plenty of celebrating. The Washington Nationals started their season last Thursday. They opened against the Atlanta Braves this year. I’m originally from the southeast so I’ve always followed the Braves. I’ve recently become a fan of their division rivals the Nationals because they have such a beautiful stadium so close to home. I looked forward to watching these two teams play this year. My son Cory is a rabid Braves fan so he took some time off to travel up from Tennessee to root against me. His long weekend got off to a good start when the Braves dropped the Nats 2-0. It got even better on Friday when he caught the biggest rockfish of his life, then broke his record twice on his next two casts! Read More!
“Show me a fisherman and I’ll show you a scoundrel and a sneak,” says well-known outdoor writer Bob Lawless. I don’t hang out with too many scoundrels, but every good fisherman I know is a sneak. In an article about newly-invented trolling motors, the April 1960 edition of Popular Mechanics offers this observation: “Big fish don’t get to be bigger fish by being dumb. They get big by learning to recognize predators in their midst.” Stealth is one of fishing’s primary skills.
By swimming and scuba diving I’ve learned that some sounds are easily transferred through the water. Surface conversations can be heard down to about fifteen feet while the thump of loud music or an object falling onto the deck of a boat can be detected even deeper. The most recognizable underwater noise is made by running outboards and whirling props.
Some fishermen are so careful about noise that they won’t even turn on their sonar units when they know they’re over fish. It’s been proven that fish can detect the pings. I’m not always that sneaky, but I’ve learned a little something over the years about how important stealth can be. Take a look at the monster light tackle stripers in this report and you’ll see what I mean!







