Fall’s last face is it’s cruelest, blasting the Chesapeake with more cold air and wind. It’s now that we say goodbye to spending the morning in a long sleeve shirt, bobbing in calm nearshore waters, casting with ease to dock pilings and marsh banks, and letting the silent skiff trolling motor glide the boat upon unsuspecting fish. The ospreys are enjoying their Floridian vacation, the leaves on the trees are mostly gone, ducks and geese are showing up in increasing numbers, and the inshore three- speckled trout, puppy drum, and rockfish, diverge in their availability. The specks are preparing to head for shallow mudflats to spend the winter. I don’t know where the pups go, but I suspect they seek out whatever warm pocket they can find. On the other hand, late fall is the time to rock.
Striped bass school up at the mouth of the great Bay rivers – the Potomac, the Rappahannock, and the York. It’s a time full of great memories for me: 4-year old Thomas watching with amazement as my dad produced a 40” fish from a cooler after a successful trip; 7 year old Thomas finally getting to go on a trip with my dad, uncle and grandfather out of Urbanna, and winding my first rockfish on trolling gear; and teenage Thomas, eagerly awaiting to get out of class and head to my grandparents house for turkey and rockfishing.
Anglers traditionally troll along deep holes and drop offs with heavy gear – 20 to 30 class tackle and 24 ounce baits imitating large shad & menhaden. However, the fly angler can play along too. Structure protruding from deep water – bridge pilings, artificial islands, and rockpiles can hold sizable fish within reach of the fly angler. Here it pays to be a skilled mariner who can master boat handling in rough water around such hazards. Just a few years ago, I spent a wonderful morning driving dozens of circles around an old lighthouse as wind and waves heaved upon the rocks. There was no way to fly cast and attend to my 86-year old Grandfather, so we hurled plugs on light spinning gear into the froth and caught fish up to 28”.
Rockfish will also avail themselves at the surface under beehives of seagulls and gannet birds. This can be combat fishing – dodging trollers and pluggers and deep jiggers while jockeying for position on a moving school of fish, but it’s exciting to sling your fly across the waves at linesiders visibly crashing bait. One Thanksgiving, I recall a dense fog setting in just after stumbling upon a school of fish while fishing with my grandfather, my dad, and my brother. Hidden from the prying eyes of the fleet, we managed to pull in several nice fish by taking turns casting sinking lines and big bunker flies. It was a surreal experience – three generations briefly cut off from the world around us, tied to the lurking predators below.
Even though the main scene is out in open water, some fish will still frequent their inshore hangouts. I recently stopped by my favorite spot after a November duck hunt. Two black ducks had pitched into the decoys perfectly, but an old soggy shotgun shell let them escape untouched, leaving me fuming about showing up unprepared with inadequate gear. Some fly rod therapy was needed to settle my nerves. A few early teenage (12”-15”) stripers were in the rip of the outgoing tide, eager to take a clouser swung by the marsh bank, which by this point had turned golden brown. The bright fish shimmered against the bleak landscape as I unhooked them and thanked them for playing.
Nearby is a larger tidal marsh system with an inlet directly onto the Chesapeake Bay. Accessible only by boat, what it lacks in convenience, it provides in abundance. Two years ago, again after a November duck hunt, I anchored up in a calm eddy off the main current flow. A black over orange rattle clouser swung through the inlet on a fast sinking line produced several quality fish, including a fat 25-incher that put my 9-weight to the test and battled up a weight class in the swift current. It was a blustery morning,and I alternated casting with shoving my exposed fingers down into my armpits to warm up and regain the feel of the line (I have never found a suitable pair of fly-fishing gloves).
Whether you have to stay nearshore or can get out on the open Bay, this time of year holds promise for anglers willing to brave the cold and wind for some excellent striped bass fishing. It’s as if nature is saying, get out now, before I blow a gale, dump six inches of snow across Tidewater, and ice up all of the creeks.