I launched at 6:30 and, thanks to the recurring little breeze, was able to fish until 2:30. Given the weather forecast I saw a little earlier for the rest of this week, don't reckon I'll be venturing out again unless things improve dramatically.
The bass in the accompanying photo was my best of six keepers for the day. It weighed in at 1-12. I also boated a crappie to round out my catch. All seven fish fell for a chatterbait. The only other bait I fished today was a crankbait, and I didn't stay with it very long, because nothing was happening. I didn't see any topwater action at all early this morning, especially not in West Neck, where I started, so I didn't even take a topwater bait out of my box.
As is often the case, I have to report that "the big 'un--fortunately--got away" today. I say "fortunately" because the fish in question was one of the biggest gars I've ever had hold of.
Split-seconds after snatching my chatterbait, I saw my line quickly crossing the boat's bow, at which point, I didn't know what I had. All I could tell was that it was big. Then, in the blink of an eye, I saw the fish flash in the water, but I still couldn't tell what it was, so I just hung on and hoped for the best. In the next instant, the fish came flying through the air--all about 10 or 15 lbs. worth. Just as he splashed down, I saw his mouth open, and my chatterbait came flying. I'll never know for sure, but I don't think the gar was hooked at all. Rather, I suggest that he just had clamped his mouth shut on the bait.
That excitement by itself would have satisfied my day's requirement for an adrenaline rush, but as it turned out, I was in for yet another "moment" before my day would end. It happened shortly after I had finished wiping down the boat and spread the cover over it. Raindrops just had started falling gently, so rather than flush the outboard, I had decided to put the boat in the shed and save that chore for another day.
Having gotten the boat backed in, the jackwheel down, and the battery charger plugged in, I had moved to the door of my shed to take a look at the darkening sky. At that very moment, a bolt of lightning must have hit something very close by, because it sounded like someone had fired a gun directly over my head. I ducked instinctively--but did NOT venture outside the shed for a closer look. With that crack of lightning, the sky opened up and, for the next 30 straight minutes, it rained barrels full.
When it had let up just a tad, I snatched the door down, locked it, and hopped in my van for the trip home. Thus ended my "excitement" for the day--or, at least, I hope there's nothing more in store for me before my head hits the pillow. At my age, I can only stand a certain amount of excitement in any 24-hour period.
No comments:
Post a Comment