[slider_pro id=”2″ effect_type=”fade” height=”415px” width=”600″]
F or some years not all that long ago—from 1995 through, say, 2000—most of the Ocean State charterboat fleet was booking striper trips almost exclusively from the crack of the starting pistol in May through the last gasp of migratory action, usually sometime in mid- to late-November. But as striper stocks have begun to constrict at an accelerating rate, in overall abundance, geographic distribution, and, in more recent years, migratory patterns, captains who used to jam the fish right through autumn. Some aspects of Ocean State striper fishing have remained more or less constant over the last decade, while others have shifted so dramatically that you’d be hard-pressed to call recent striper behaviors “patterns” at all.
For the record, and this may contradict some of what appears in this month’s “Fish Focus” entry, I want to stress that at this point there are still quite a few bass around in terms of total biomass, particularly in stronghold areas like Block Island, Newport during certain seasonal windows, or Chatham (Cape Cod). What has so many dedicated stripermen concerned are the wild shifts in seasonal abundance the last five years or so, that have left huge stretches of the New England coastline (stretches that had staggering numbers of fish just a handful of years ago) essentially striperless.
One major part of striper tradition that has been most heavily affected by these growing population “gaps” as well as what many believe are major changes in migratory patterns, is the so-called “Fall Run” fishery. The bottom line is that, inasmuch as many anglers’ charter-fishing habits more closely relate to family traditions than to piscatorial reality, it’s becoming harder for charter patrons to book a date (outside of constants like June or July at Block) with reasonable confidence that the trip’s timing will align with good numbers of bass in the southward fore. If you have plans to put together a fall striper charter, it might be worth considering the possibility of breaking with long-standing father-son-grandson traditions in favor of sailing much sooner.
The fact of the matter is that, while the month of October offers outstanding bass activity most years, the November fishery in our corner of the striper universe has become notably shaky—even before you factor in the weather’s antics. In fact, for boat fishermen and surfcasters alike, the lore and legend of so-called “Fall Run” striper fishing echoes down across the angling ages in near-total disconnect from present-day striped bass behavior. These days—and I’ve been tracking this pattern for quite a few seasons now—the wild, wide-open fall bass fishing now seems to peak around the same time the mullet run is in full swing along the Rhody mainland. Typically, by the first or maybe second week of October (depending on the timing of autumn gales), we will lose the last of our summer “resident” bass, and the fishery will nosedive.
The biggest problem seems to be the expanding gaps in striper distribution (and/or possibly in their migratory patterns/timing/routes) and the resulting lack of fish in the traditional migration pipeline to our north and east. Again, we lose the residents, then we wait on migratory reinforcements that seem to pull in less and less frequently with each passing season. The latter half of October and the better part of November now represent a thunderous lull in the Fall Run. The lull lasts right into mid-April, when the first schoolies invade South County.
What does all this mean for the guys who are eager to get out on the autumn ocean via charter boat? The good news is that, if you can live with the idea of modifying your target species, there are quite a few other fisheries that hit high gear in September and run right into the ninth inning, so to speak. For one, you might consider the underpublicized fall shark fishery south and east of Block Island. Just as some of the largest sharks each season—big, solitary animals with much greater cold-tolerance–cross the docks in June, when water is still brisk, the late-September and even October fishery won’t give you non-stop action. But when the five-pound live bluefish patrolling the perimeter beneath the outermost side balloon actually rips drag, and, a second later, the balloon slashes 40 feet across the surface with a hiss, the surface erupts, and the drag starts screaming so hard that your ears register the sound as a harmonic wail… When that happens, you’ll wonder why you never went sharking outside July. Though a lot can happen in a very short span of days, one way or the other, September has also traditionally been a month when the bluefin tuna activity takes shape on the near-offshore grounds. The key idea is that it’s not necessarily too late for offshore…
On a more modest, but no less enjoyable, scale, September’s generally a solid month for scup and black sea bass fishing—the ratio between the two species largely a matter of waters fished. I have always been highly amused by what could be called the Law of Black Sea Bass, which states that the person in charge of any group forced by fall weather, sea conditions, or poor fishing in the original target fishery (striped bass) to go out and work on black sea bass all day will, roughly one hour after he has finished off the last bag of beautiful, white, vacuum-sealed fillets several months later, call to book a black sea bass trip for the following season, usually uttering all or part of the phrase, “the hell with stripers—we want more of that black bass…err—sea bass. Scup—perhaps one rung down the culinary scale–
[easy-social-share]
