June 15, 2006
Wind and Pelting Rain Make for Tight Lines and Broken Knots
Matt and I made the pact to meet at 4:30, and we followed through. However, when I awoke at 4:00 I wasn't sure whether it was due to the alarm clock or the wind in the trees above. The rain doesn't bother me much, but hearing wind in the sixty-five foot oak trees in my neighborhood means one of two things: if its coming from the south then we're in for some chop at the landing, but if it is from the north or east, and I can hear it, then it's more like a storm and the bay would be rolling bad. I didn't know which direction (dark out there) until I checked the NOAA internet site which told me: north. And heavy rain on the way.
Crap.
But it was too late to cry and wine. I dutifully donned my clothing and jumped into the truck (pre-packed last night) and headed for the boat. Fog billowed from the sky and ominously cloaked Hall's Corner and immediately I realized that I would be very wet, very soon.
Getting underway was fairly smooth, as we were protected from much of the wind. But when we rounded Goose Point we took a pounding. Wind was blowing 15 to 20 kts from the NNE and the waves were crashing over the bow every ten seconds. I assured Matt that the ride would be short, that the place I had in mind was just ahead. And it was.
The Nummet was a tossed up scene and the tidal rip which characterizes this spot was not to be noticed due to the heavy seas. We tested a short drift or two to determine where we should begin each drift (you see, one must be cunning in this sport, after all) and within five minutes we had fish on. Each of us lost our first hookup within one minute of another. Then a couple casts later, we each had one on again -- perfect symmetry.
We continued the drifts, which were quick due to the wind and current. The rain really took off and soon we were completely (and I mean completely with a capital C) drenched. My old Gore-Tex gave up the ghost and let the water right in. But the fishing was excellent. These fish were going after Matt's white popper like those young women you see at wedding gown sales at Filene's Basement. They were ballistic, most of them, and this brought a big smile to Matt. Even though wet, cold, and the skin on our hands resembling wet cardboard, the energy and fight in these fish was amazing. The take of the day was Matt's 34" bass, and after landing that sucker, Matt managed to ignite a cigarette (in pelting rain and 25 mph wind). But this fish would have been lost had Matt not previously snapped his line off at a knot, which he then repaired. Prized white popper was free in surf - and we managed to find it!
We were joined by a green boat out of Plymouth with three guys fishing. The skipper was presumabely a guide as he did more at the helm than on the rod. They decided to keep their craft at idle speed on top of the rip, which annoyed me slightly, but they're entitled to do so.
At 6:30 we called it quits and motored in. The rain stung my face and this made me contort it into unnatural forms. I am glad Matt didn't notice.
Matt and I made the pact to meet at 4:30, and we followed through. However, when I awoke at 4:00 I wasn't sure whether it was due to the alarm clock or the wind in the trees above. The rain doesn't bother me much, but hearing wind in the sixty-five foot oak trees in my neighborhood means one of two things: if its coming from the south then we're in for some chop at the landing, but if it is from the north or east, and I can hear it, then it's more like a storm and the bay would be rolling bad. I didn't know which direction (dark out there) until I checked the NOAA internet site which told me: north. And heavy rain on the way.
Crap.
But it was too late to cry and wine. I dutifully donned my clothing and jumped into the truck (pre-packed last night) and headed for the boat. Fog billowed from the sky and ominously cloaked Hall's Corner and immediately I realized that I would be very wet, very soon.
Getting underway was fairly smooth, as we were protected from much of the wind. But when we rounded Goose Point we took a pounding. Wind was blowing 15 to 20 kts from the NNE and the waves were crashing over the bow every ten seconds. I assured Matt that the ride would be short, that the place I had in mind was just ahead. And it was.
The Nummet was a tossed up scene and the tidal rip which characterizes this spot was not to be noticed due to the heavy seas. We tested a short drift or two to determine where we should begin each drift (you see, one must be cunning in this sport, after all) and within five minutes we had fish on. Each of us lost our first hookup within one minute of another. Then a couple casts later, we each had one on again -- perfect symmetry.
We continued the drifts, which were quick due to the wind and current. The rain really took off and soon we were completely (and I mean completely with a capital C) drenched. My old Gore-Tex gave up the ghost and let the water right in. But the fishing was excellent. These fish were going after Matt's white popper like those young women you see at wedding gown sales at Filene's Basement. They were ballistic, most of them, and this brought a big smile to Matt. Even though wet, cold, and the skin on our hands resembling wet cardboard, the energy and fight in these fish was amazing. The take of the day was Matt's 34" bass, and after landing that sucker, Matt managed to ignite a cigarette (in pelting rain and 25 mph wind). But this fish would have been lost had Matt not previously snapped his line off at a knot, which he then repaired. Prized white popper was free in surf - and we managed to find it!
We were joined by a green boat out of Plymouth with three guys fishing. The skipper was presumabely a guide as he did more at the helm than on the rod. They decided to keep their craft at idle speed on top of the rip, which annoyed me slightly, but they're entitled to do so.
At 6:30 we called it quits and motored in. The rain stung my face and this made me contort it into unnatural forms. I am glad Matt didn't notice.
posted by John at 1:58 PM
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