Supermoon Stripers for Outdoor Life’s Summer Interns

July 23, 2014 - Supermoon

As my friend Paul and we fraudulent a initial eels of a night, we watched my father thread a 9-inch Slug-Go onto a jig-head. we was confused, since we suspicion we had copiousness of eels in a live-well. When it comes to stripers, live bait—especially live eel—almost always trumps artificials.

“Don’t we wish a offshoot for an eel, Dad?” we asked, obscure my possess slippery attract into a water.

“No, we boys fish a eels. we didn’t squeeze too many and they’re a best attract we have. we got them only for we guys.”

I had high expectations when we invited my associate Outdoor Life intern, Paul Kemper, to join me and my aged male for a night of striped drum fishing on Block Island, R.I., dual weekends ago. Over dual days of fishing before a possess trip, my father and his friend hauled in some-more than 40 fish between them. This would be Paul’s initial striper trip, and we was concerned to uncover him what he’d been missing. Paul is a Pennsylvania local and a sum fish nut, though his landlocked hometown has singular his saltwater fishing opportunities. 

Paul held a sight from Manhattan out to my hometown of Wilton, Conn., to accommodate me. After a 75-minute expostulate adult I-95 and several anticipatory high-fives on a boat, we were cruising out of New London Harbor. 

We spent many of a late afternoon baiting portion rigs with squid strips and shiners. Our three-man organisation hauled adult tiny sea drum and porgies, and Paul even landed a tiny shark (his second ever) and a stingray (his initial ever). But really, we were waiting. We were watchful for a object to dump and for a full moon to rise, so we could start sport a nightly beasts we’d come to wrangle. 

As a dusk progressed, we put divided a ultra-light portion rods and got fraudulent adult to live-line eels. The cold atmosphere rolled in with a vanishing light as we common a turn of beers and sandwiches, and my father began to demeanour like a linebacker who only got a shell call. It was striper time.

Perhaps a many sparkling thing about striper fishing is what we call “the turn-on.” You can spend hours fishing but a nip when, all of a sudden, a fish confirm they’re hungry. And until they’re full, a unrelenting transforms from a small-talk plcae into a fort of sorrow lines, laughs, and pristine mayhem.

Combine open-bait live backing with a turn-on, and your adrenaline levels skyrocket. You can feel a fish squeeze a bait, and we have to force yourself to wait before slamming offshoot into jaw.

When my father landed a initial fish on his Slug-Go—a brawny 28-pounder—I looked during Paul and gave him a nod. This was it. We spent a subsequent 3 hours dropping eels and coaching them to “swim into a cow mouth,” alighting ourselves striper after striper. Paul held his initial striped drum ever, that doubled as a biggest fish he’s ever caught. we scored a fish of a night: a 41-pounder that incited me into a grill favourite a following week. When a time strike midnight and a fishing slowed, we howled adult during a supermoon like werewolves.

“Now that I’ve finally finished this, I’m addicted,” Paul said, late into a night. 

“I know,” we replied. “I’ve been dependant my whole life.”

My father didn’t contend anything. we incited to demeanour during him. He was only sitting there, rubbing his hands together and grinning.

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