T he fall run of bass and blues is in full swing now. Most days, you can count on spotting dozens of flocks of birds marking the positions of surface-feeding bass and blues. The trick is this: there’s always the tendency, when you’re out witnessing this kind of bonanza fishing, to assume there are still weeks worth of stripers in the pipeline to our north and east—that there’s still plenty of time on the clock. If the last couple seasons are any indication, things can wrap up very abruptly. Be aware that the timing of the blows can send fish packing in a hurry, and that a hard nor’easter like the one we had last weekend can crap up the inshore waters something horrible. In weather like that, it’s not just the days you lose to the immediate blow, but the fact that when water inshore is roiled and dirty, would-be migratory visitors have a way of staying offshore and bypassing us all together. Point is, if you’re hoping to hang a few more good bass before the fishing comes crashing down, stay on it in every fishable moment. Don’t procrastinate and awake one morning to discover snow drifted on the windows and a barren ocean as far as the eye can see.
WESTERLY
Mike Wade at Watch Hill Outfitters noted there’s been a pretty impressive shot of better bass hanging in the Cove—what many of the locals have dubbed “Taylor’s Cove” after a certain starlet’s failure to comprehend the statutory particulars of land ownership in the so-called “inter-tidal zone” when she asked her security to remove some icky fisherman-types who were clogging her pristine view of her pristine waters funneling out of her Sound into her ocean. Turned out all that sand and stone below mean high water is essentially “no man’s/starlet’s land.”
At any rate, a diver climbing out of the water there on Thursday afternoon echoed ecent firsthand reports that a mix of both jumbo loligo squid and midsize bunker are packed tight into the waters around Watch Hill. Surfmen have been running up good numbers of bass from schoolie size to the low-40-inch range working plugs and various jigs, the fish showing an apparent preference of late for long-casting offers in yellow/Chicken Scratch color scheme— among those Daiwa’s SP Minnow. For every five “pings” Watch Hill Outfitters has sent out into the tog-fishing world via batches of customer green crabs, they are only getting a return signal from one togman: Folks who are finding useful windows in the gale line-up, getting out on the hangs of Fishers Island Sound or out front are not necessarily sharing the fine detail of their togging deeds. The scup fishing has seen its time come and go again, with most of the straggler porgies of a size comparable to the frozen waffles your kids eat. Bluefish are intermittently thick and absent at Block Island, while no one’s been raving about the bass over there. The sea bass that were so plentiful off the Island’s west side have thinned out dramatically; you might still find some better ones, some bigger porgies, and even some respectable tog on hangs less than 50 feet outside Clay Head and Old Harbor Point (east side).
SNUG HARBOR
Matt Conti at Snug Harbor Marina said at least one local boat, the Billfish, captained by Elliot Brais, made good use of a civilized stretch of weather Monday into Tuesday, dashing down to hit what looked to be a nice piece of warm, clean bluewater somewhere (at that point) between Atlantis and East Atlantis. Though Matt had not been behind the counter when that crew checked back in a day later, he surmised that they’d found what they went looking for. The evidence came in the form of a bunch of yellows representing two different year classes: a handful of yellowfin plugs around 50 pounds suggested fish in the 60- to 70-pound range, round weight, while a second bunch of plugs averaged between 25 and 30 pounds. Other boats that maintained dueling weather/water vigils identified a finger of 70-degree water that looked damned near to theoretical perfection sliding up toward the Horns in the outer Butterfish Hole. Though Conti hadn’t gotten direct word, I did speak to one NY boat that shot south and east to that little patch of pelagic- rich water, where they found all kinds of bait, some birds, breaking fish, then hooked one very large thresher and fought her for a very long time on too-light gear before the creature’s scythe-like tail parted them off as though swatting at a horse-fly.
Bass reports from the Island have been pretty much one big thumbs-down; Montauk was doing better by a shade, with droves of schoolie-sized bass and occasional keepers, shore and boat, but the bulk of the life seems to be safely west of us at this point.
There was a 46-pound slob landed among a number of other better bass in the Cape Cod Canal on Wednesday, but fall-run fishing wisdom draws on mythology as much as observation by folks who know what they’re looking at. Do not, that is, fall into the trap of thinking that the migration beneath so many layers of hype is in any way linear—an orderly, single-file parade of bass from the Canadian Maritimes to natal waters in the Chesapeake, the fish streaming by left-to-right.
Speaking of “migratory” fishing, the South County beaches (and breaches) have seen reasonably consistent shots of mainly schoolie stripers in blitz mode anywhere from out in front of the Center Wall westward to Watch Hill. Tautog are wearing the bullseye at this point, noted Conti. Despite the first blush of the cold front blasting through on Friday morning, the blackfish remained in their classic early patterns through most of the week— most of the tog sharpies still worekinbg the inside ledges and rockpiles for the standard monsters-or-minis mixed bag. Scup have thinned right out in the shoal water, but you’ll still find scattered shots of the 2-plus-pound joes on the uglier bottom from 50 feet on out. Sea bass took a major backseat off the Island’s west side, but Conti’s sources seem to think there are still some quality sea biscuits off the east side. There were confirmed green bonito encounters out in front of the Center Wall on Wednesday, but no one is too eager to make any bold claims about the future odds of a 10-mile-square bonito blitz.
POINT JUDITH
Capt. Andy Dangelo of the Maridee II has been quite a bit less than thrilled with the recent striped bass fishery, noting the Montauk fleet has had mostly schoolie fish and blues over the last week or so. Dangelo said the bottom fishing off the west side of Block has fallen apart the last week or so, thanks in part to all the unsettled weather. The tautog fishing is underway at this point, but it will still be a bit yet before the bite starts to shape up in the deeper water.
Capt. John Rainone on the L’il Toot put in a good little stretch of sinker-bouncing that started late last week and ended when the weather fell apart again on Tuesday. Rainone noted that he’s been doing most of his work on the inside rocks tight to the Newport shoreline to this point, adding that he has mixed feelings about what has been a pretty heavy ratio of throwbacks to every keeper that lands in the cockpit: On one hand, he’s encouraged by the numbers of sub-legal specimens that testify—if all goes well—to the likelihood of a strong stock coming up the pipeline from the farm system. Unfortunately, at a time when business has been a bit off and enforcement has made no real effort to be visible, Rainone worries that the multitude of 14 ½- to 15 ¾-inch shorts coming up between better fish may prove too great a temptation for some of the unscrupulous meat-mongers of the togging racket. Rainone has immediate openings, and the fishing will hit high gear any day now: 4012.497.6683.
NEWPORT
Peter Jenkins at the Saltwater Edge commented that there is still a borderline-staggering abundance and diversity of forage fish in the Aquidneck Island shallows. The sharpies fishing both surf and boat continue to connect with some solid bass, while the so-called masses continue to express growing frustration over what many perceive as a sagging fishery.
Blues are here and there with various sources of feed. Sign Up For Your Weekly Rhode Island Fishing Report at coastalanglermag.com/rhodeisland/report Jeff Sidelinger of Narragansett, RI hefts a fat sea bass he pried off a 45-foot hang around the mouth of Narragansett Bay.
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