I have been out a number of times the past few weeks mainly to take advantage of some great weather. It's a bit like fishing in a bathtub that you can clearly see contains no fish. In my heart, and in my notes, I know that several things must come together before the fish arrive. I have found that when the hanover from St. Patricks day abates, the water temp hits 50, the presence of Cormorants, and, last but not least, the return of nesting pairs of Osprey's, then the season can begin. We have a nesting pole next to our dock, that is wonderfully framed by the windows across the back of our house. Every room in our house has an incredible view of Lucy and Ricky, the names we have given our raptor friends. Lucy showed up one day a week or two ago. Osprey pairs do not spend the winter together and the male will normally show up a bit later to "summer" with his life partner. They really are fascinating. It was in the 70's when I left the office a little before 4, I could feel it in my bones. Not only had Ricky returned this AM, but March 22 has been forever etched in my memory as the day I caught my biggest Rockfish with a plug.
|First of 2016|
I arrived at the spot a little after 5. High tide was 7, so the water was ripping. Despite the 70 degree temp on land, it was cold as hell on the water. I was sporting a sailing jacket and wool hat. The wind was 12 knots, so the water was churned up quite a bit. Things did not look good for topwater, but hey, thats what I live for. So for the first hour I mindlessly fan casted with Popa, with no action. I switched over to a white twisty and on my third cast had the first hookup of 2016, right up against the rock pile. It was not a trophy, but a fat 20 this early in the season feels like a 30. With the skunk off the boat, I immediately switched back to Popa and continued to cast until 6:30. Mother Nature is one heck of a timekeeper. Picture courtesy of Donna Weaver Photography.