Monday, April 14, 2008:
Vastly mixed reports regarding localized stripering. A few reports (mainly from just to our south) had sharpies finding hectic bassing (mainly smaller fish). However, I’ve had nearby casters having empty days and (especially) nights. One fellow sat beneath a Causeway bridge using every method known and didn’t get a touch for hours of effort.
I had a striper spurt a few night back but haven’t been knocking ‘em dead by any stretch, often due to weather-related variables. My best zone continues to be South End – as far south as allowed. I have some needed permission to go dockside here and there.
Note: The repair work on the bulkhead at “Morrison’s” carries on – ever so slowly. The cones are up stopping traffic from going next to the water (where we usually park). The cones do offer openings for after-dark passage, however, it’s actually a bit spooky standing on the edge of the bulkhead w/o that railing there. It’s important to realize the water is deep next to the bulkhead and the currents rip by there. Fall in and water temps in the 40s make it mandatory to get a grip onto something secure real fast -- or meet Mr. Hypothermia close up and personal.
EARLY TUNA – AND TALK: The ‘waroom” chat in local websites is going gangbusters. The buzz is over not only the insanely early nabbing of a bluefin tuna – taken in the Lindy on April 10 – but also a monumental warm-eddy phenomenon, the length of which has not been seen in the canyons for over 50 years.
The seasonally bizarre warm-core eddy extends from the Wilmington Canyon (and technically further south, based on the Gulf Stream) all the way up to the Hudson Canyon. The east parameter seems to be piled up against the 100-fathom line. The west side is maybe 10 landward of the canyon’s edge.
According to an old salt captain, “I’ve looked at this stuff (offshore water surface temperatures) a lot and I can’t remember seeing one of them (warm-core eddies) at this size this early – or any time of year.”
The 76.5-pound bluefin tuna (a large-school) was 52 inches in length, taken aboard the Fish Trap.
I was reading an outside (NY) fishing report and caught the snippet: “Tried my new braid line. Awesome, will never go back.
You cannot beat the casting distance.”
I always chuckle at this sentiment since I’ve offered such high praise myself on a couple occasions only to discover “never” is always oh so close. I get the braided line and marvel at its benefits, like casting and lack of stretch. Then the line ages a bit (often the slightest “bit”) and all kinds of freaky things begin to happen. On one count, I often can’t cut that line even using fingernail clippers – generally the surest cutter of all. Then, in all but the same moment, I go to cast a plug and the braided line breaks as if it’s just below 2-pound test. Weird. I usually bounce back to traditional mono when angered by the braid way only to find myself tempted back to braidation, as is the case now as I’d like some super line for night fishing bass from atop spans and out of my kayak. I’ll read up to find the latest “most advanced” braided lines.
(Weekly report in here tomorrow).