Peter Park's
Testimonial
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Science Information
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"Everybody has to learn from somebody???"
By Peter J Park
October 27, 2008
Just about three years ago, I committed myself to nights of lost sleep and dreams of catching fish of silver with dark stripes. The striped bass - no other fish in the world has the power to entrance anglers. Perhaps, "entrance" is not the right word. How about "entangle", as if this fish knows its effect on those who pursue it? The cause of insomnia and the source of a life-long obsession is the fate of any fisherman seeking Morone saxatilis.
My journey began on one uneventful morning in May 10, 2006. I was fishing for nothing more than a small silver fish, commonly called a bluefish because of the unmistakable hue of blue along its entire profile. Yes, there was always the chance of catching a small striped bass too, but this was too unlikely to be hoped for. On this special morning, I caught the largest striped bass of my life. It was a whopping 28". I would have to say that this was possibly the most memorable day of fishing I ever had. Why? Because this was the beginning of my obsession.
It wasn't until that day that my world would collide with Morone's to inspire in me a wonder about this fish's existence. It was this first "keeper" (jargon, for federally regulated minimum length limit permissible for possession and consumption), that got the ball rolling, so to speak. Since then, my quest for a day-time giant bass has been a whirlwind. Between managing a student's schedule and budgeting time and money, I made striped bass fishing a pursuit as one best could given practical limitations. I spent money on "lures/plugs" and "baits", "terminal tackle" and "rod-n-reel", and books and newsletters. I spent time learning from other fishermen who committed themselves to the same chase. Hours of listening and hours of testing my own theories- at times, discouraging- were spent all hoping to catch big and catch often, just this one species.
Why the striped bass? I've asked this question to many. The responses I often get are as follows: "They're elusive and beautiful." "Every cast leaves one with the hope at the world record!" "They get huge and are difficult to figure out." "They're delicious!" "We almost lost them once, it's like seeing a friend that was once long lost." "They make the reel scream like no other fish; they fight like no other fish." "They are wise and deserving of honor and respect; no novice will catch them consistently." I guess there is no one reason for why so many love this fish so much. Is that why thousands of books have been written about them? Is that why wildlife artists love to paint them? Is this why striped bass is an expensive dinner on any restaurant menu? I don't know- but I do know that the sight of this fish invokes in me a nervousness, a happiness, and an awe that cannot be matched by any other fish.
So, back to fishing…. Was fishing really just luck? If so, then why is that old saying "10% of fishermen catch 90% of the fish" ring true for so many striped bass anglers. Every day I went out, and I could not spare a moment. I wrote it all down. Tides, times, wildlife, plant life, moon phase, wind speed, wind direction, bait- whatever I saw I wrote down. I was convinced that my efforts would not be futile. In other words, I had hope that my efforts now will pay off in catching more and bigger later. Why else would I want to waste time and repeat past mistakes? I did not have this kind of time to waste. I had work. I had studies. I also needed to find time for a social life.
Lessons upon lessons….Learning from a friend to rig a live eel for the first time. Learning locales from other friends. Bombers, bunker, and bars. Seminars from life-long experts in the field. Personal tips from fishing legends. Putting theory into practice - learning how to make a pencil popper dance and a darter dig. Each lesson has a place not only in my logbook or in my mind, but also in my heart. Every lesson that has been passed on to me, I cherished them all. Soon, it became time to set goals. I will catch a 10lber. I will catch a fish over 36". I will catch a fish over 40". I will catch a 20lber. I will catch a 25lber. A 30lber at night. A 30lber in the day. That's my completed checklist thus far.
I remember vividly the days each goal was checked off. I will elaborate on a couple here. My pursuit of a striped bass over 36" was next most important to me.
I grew up in the 80's as a child who did not even think the striped bass existed. You see, the striped bass was near extinction at that time. Prior to my birth, the striped bass fishery was in serious trouble. Over-harvesting caused concern of federal proportions so much so that a year-long ban was enacted to protect the species. During this time, any possession of this fish was illegal and subject to severe fines, seizure, or imprisonment.
When I grew up and fished with my father during elementary school days, the minimum length limit for a striped bass was 36". Not long after the ban, this would become a long-standing limit size for years. Not only did this landmark seem impossible for me as a child, it also triggered in me a sense of despair. Whenever any one caught a striped bass over 36", my father would be genuinely shocked and impressed. I remember wondering if I would ever catch one that big. I asked my father that once and he said, "I hope so, but who knows, son. I've been fishing ever since you were born and never saw one that big." "Dad, do you think the striped bass will die off?" "I hope not. I really hope not." I remember thinking then that time may be running out for the striped bass and that I may grow up with a generation of anglers who knew of striped bass fishing only as a thing of the past. I remember thinking that I may never get to see a striped bass once I was old enough to fish by myself. My father never got to see a living striped bass over 36". So, this goal was especially important to me. To my pleasant surprise, as I grew older, I witnessed the striped bass make an unprecedented return to stock sizes like past days of plenty.
My quest for bigger and bigger bass called on the expertise of many. I first sought the www.Noreast.com
internet fishing community for help in this pursuit, and one kind soul volunteered a message to me in private- it was from a gentleman named Capt. Paul Peluso (a.k.a. Pablo or stpaul7). Here is our earliest correspondence:
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Although, I didn't catch that 36" keeper striped bass at Smith Point Bridge, I did learn that there were folks out there who were willing and able to be there for me in my quest. The 36+" fish came on October 16, 2006 with the guidance of other good friends.
Words of encouragement came from Capt. Paul not long after.
So this brings me to last week. By now, I've already met our famed Capt. Paul (Pablo) Peluso. We've already fished for smaller bass and flounder throughout the summer, but the Fall was what both of us have been waiting for all year. The context was now set for another seemingly impossible task- catching a 30lber.. in the day! Landing a 30lber is difficult enough, but to do it during the day is something that very few of my friends have done, Capt. Paul being an exception. Why was catching a big fish in the day so important? For me, the colors on the fish in the day will drop your jaw in awe. The iridescent purples and blues would make any art critic gasp. It's hard not to think that this fish wasn't favored by God Himself for its aesthetic beauty. If I could snap a few photos of a live 30lber with the assistance of the sun, I would be a part of something rare among my circle of friends.
Onto some fish biology… As the air temperature drops in the Fall, I knew the internal clock inside almost every little prey fish species that has resided in the bay for the summer will be cued to leave and begin a migration signature of these species. The winter chill will kill them if they don't leave, and so they swim together out of the bays and into the sea. The path of least resistance would seem to be the areas between sand bars along the ocean's beaches. When the tides are minimal, areas between sand bars form a fish highway (sensu A. Knie) of sorts. Stiller waters and the bars hide the migrating small "bait" fish to their left and right as they move out of the bay to their over wintering grounds.
The Atlantic Ocean is just outside of Moriches Inlet. On October 24, 2008, waves were breaking 5 to 10 ft into the air. Underlying them were sand bars, by the twos and threes. We all know that waves form as water is pushed against shallower depths. This is because the water tries to keep going forward, but if the bottom shallows, the top keeps going as the bottom is slowed down. The wave is formed and comes crashing over the bar just underneath. Why is this obvious fact so important to a striped bass fisherman? Big fish hang out in the breakers. If it were not for breakers, the art of surf fishing would never have been born. That being said, on this day the advantage was to be with the boating community for the bigger fish were hanging out a bit too offshore for the shore-bound anglers to reach them.
On a calmer day, the bait fish would have had it made, but on a day like this, the bigger fish predators were the beneficiaries. The strong waves cause schooling prey fish to be tumbled and tossed. In disarray, struggling prey are like a dinner bell ringing for the bigger fish, and today, the big fish predators did gather.
In the morning, Capt. Paul, Chris and I start on our first drift. The captain masterfully steers the boat right up the shallowest parts that his boat can go. Boat rigs: eels and long leaders and in-line lead sinkers- all of which Capt. Paul taught me. Dragging our baits on the bottom, we were hoping to present our baits as naturally as possible to entice a big fish. Sure enough, almost instantly, we get some signs of life. Chris has a "run-off," the term given to what happens when a big fish swims away with one's bait after having swallowed it. The "run-off" is what occurs simultaneously on the reel. ZZZzZZZZZZZZZZZZZ! Unfortunately, Chris' fish picked up and dropped the bait, but this was not a bad thing for it was a clue about the fishes' temperaments for the morning; it was evidence that the fish were going to be finicky.
Finicky fish? Our minds start brain-storming. Are these fish just too full? Will we need to change our presentation? Do they not want live eels? On our next drift, I hook up on a bluefish. Actually, it's snagged on the side of the eye.
Hmm…. How truly finicky are these fish such that we have them dropping our baits or even missing them? From their perspective, the bait is freely floating in the white wash, how could they resist such delectable delights?
On our next try, we adapt. Chris changes hooks and gets a few more run-offs. I opt for a shorter leader. This would enable me to reach out further into the crashing waves on the bars. Also, the shortened leader would not spook the predator fish because with such horrid waves, a snap swivel close to the hook could easily be interpreted by the fish as random debris. Sure enough, our adjustments worked. I get a run-off, too. I lean forward and let the fish have its way. After counting to three, I tighten the line and snap the rod back as hard as possible. This is done to "set" the hook in the fish's mouth. A short fight pursues and I get the fish aboard. It's a bass of similar size to my first-ever keeper. At 32" and about 10lbs, I look to Capt. Paul and say "Now, we're in business!"
Next to be hooked on was the captain himself, with a very nice striped bass of keeper size. A pro in these waters, he caught this fish right off the shelf which was where he expected these fish to be lying. As I looked around, I see that other boats were also catching fish of similar size. I did not notice major differences in our techniques- everyone was using a sinker of some sort. So this made me wonder… if we kept doing the same thing, we'll likely get the same-sized fish over and over again. However, if there was a bigger fish in the neighborhood, our current tactics may not work for one of two reasons: (1) the way that we are presenting our baits was not preferred by the bigger fish, or (2) our new presentations were so good for the smaller fish predators that they would get to the bait before all other fish. So, I decided to make one subtle change.
Noticing a slower tide than was reported by Capt. Paul in previous days, I removed the in-line sinker but continued using a shortened leader. My logic was that the sinker may pose resistance that the bigger fish could feel. I grab a large eel and cast out into the white water on our next drift. We weren't able to get as close this time around. I also noticed that the boats nearby that were at around the same depths as us were starting to catch more and more bluefish. Just as my mind begins to wander, I get a nibble, a pick-up, and a drop. I reel in the bait and notice a few cuts on the eel. Sure signs of bluefish- finicky bluefish again, but we were out in deeper water away from the bar….Change the bait? Nope, it's okay because big fish don't mind scraps. Bigger fish don't have the energy of smaller fish and if one is mixed in this school of bass and blues, the big one was likely to be opportunistic.
As his expertise would have it, Capt. Paul's next drift got us closer to the dangerous white wash than we had been all day. It was almost poetic. Now, the table was set.
Shortened leader, scarred up eel, and no sinker were my arsenal.
Knots? Secure. Hooks? Sharp. This was going to be my lucky day.
Tap… Tap tap…..(release the line off the bail)…wait…..(now place the line back, turn the reel handle a few cranks)…….(lean forward, feel the weight of the fish…)
(Grab the spool, lean back and--------------à SET!)
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!
CLICK PIC'S BELOW TO PLAY VIDEO'S
Thank you Capt. Paul (PABLO ON!) for your steadfast support, constant encouragement, shared knowledge, and gracious generosity in my quest for this big fish! "This one was a long time coming, friend." After all, it was your boat and your rigs. "My" catch last Friday was not "mine" at all. With Chris at the net and you at the engine, that fish was destined to make it into your boat. I just happened to be the lucky one. Sir, you know how to put anglers on fish and you have the heart of a true care-taker of our wild waters! May God continue to shine on you and your family.
Here is to goals and the compassion of great friends!