Striper Hunt

Striper season has officially begun in Maine.

Alarm clock goes off at 4 AM.  Grab necessary supplies- 9wt rod, newly tied clouser minnows, caffeinated beverage. Head to destination, look out over the ocean; Atlantic is glass, no wind, 50 degrees.  It's going to be a good day. Gear up, head out into the bay over the glassy, pink water. The sun is not yet visible but, slowly making it's presence. Throw out the trusty blue water candy striper lure and troll. Need to find where they are stacked up. Twenty, thirty, forty minutes go by. Nothing. Hugh calls, offers plan B based on other intel he recieved and we hurry and pack our gear and head south.

No stripers here, yet....

Plan B location

Marshland. High tide creating meandering river channels of saltwater through brush. Hugh and Connor launch kayaks and head out to the main channel, I wade and head to smaller water. I pass by restaurant employees readying for another day of seafood frenzy on the pier. Seagulls call to one another and the smell of salt hangs in the air. I wade out, shells and sea snells crunch under my feet as I walk and vibrate up my leg. I find a good stretch of water and toss my fly, warming up the double haul. No surface action, no crushing bait, but hopeful. Three casts in-strip, strip, strip, slam. 9 wt. bent over, familiar kink in the wrist. These fish are powerful and aggressive. Fish in net, scales glistening in the low rising sun. Dorsal fin prominent and spearing an opening of the net. Clouser pierced to side of mouth, fibers softly waving in the water. A couple photos, quick release, and a heightened state of alertness. Repeat X2 in the same run. All schoolie category, but all a solid average 20 inches.

Slab of striper

Battle wound

Tide receding, head out to the main channel. Climb over tide pools, endless clam shells, and deep mud. Find a beach with promising water. Work clouser against swift current. Eye two other fly fisherman across the channel, one of them's raking them in. What pattern was he using? Didn't matter. My rod was soon bent over with a bruiser. As I'm fighting the fish, the man across the channel says to the other "that guy has a nice one". Fish finally getting closer, reach for net, but the fish runs. This happens twice. Reestablish and slowly bring fish back. Net in hand, rod high in the other, fish frantically shaking on the surface. Scoop. This was a nice one, though I never measured. Record was 23 from last year and this fish was pushing that number. Two handed lift from the net, set in water. Fish somehow stays calm, shoot a series of photos. Gone. Day one of season- success.

9wt bent over

Hugh's ultimate fishing rig

Savannah anxiously waiting for me to catch something

Distant train