August stripers beckon freshwater anglers

Saturday, August 06, 2005

At 6:30 last Monday morning, no one on Popham Beach at the mouth of the Kennebec River could ask for better striper-fishing conditions. During a rushing, incoming tide, raindrops the size of moth balls pelted the water hard, and dense fog had lowered visibility to 200 yards.

Such weather insured dim light would last until at least two hours after sunrise. Even better was the timing. As the tide boiled upstream past a sandbar, I was hoping stripers rode along with the crest of the flow.

Right on cue with that last thought, my fly line tightened as if my magenta and white Lefty's deceiver had snagged bottom, but that was impossible. The river has no rocks or sunken driftwood within fly-casting distance of shore. The striper held on bottom for brief seconds before panicking and making the rod buck wildly up and down.

Bob Mallard of Madison was casting off a sandbar 100 yards downstream, so I hollered to him, hoping he would move upstream and cast over the school that had just showed up in front of me. However, he thought that I was pointing at a sturgeon that had just jumped into the air near him, and he continued casting.

Three spin fishermen below Bob heard me holler, though. They immediately reeled in their lures and rushed toward me. By the time Bob noticed me playing a fish, the three strangers had me surrounded.

This striper turned into a mini-tragedy, though. My fly had hooked the tongue near the back of the throat, causing excessive bleeding and certain death. The fish might have measured over 20 inches, but unfortunately, I had no measuring tape to verify the length and did not dare to keep it. However, you can bet that some foraging critter in this fertile river ate the doomed striper, so it was not wasted.

Rule No. 1 when striper fishing: Carry a ruler or better yet make the rod a ruler by painting marks 20- to 26-inches up the blank from the fighting butt, designating the slot limit and another mark at the 40-inch minimum length limit. Then, if you catch a fish that is bleeding like a proverbial stuck pig or hooked in the gut, you can measure the length.

A short while later, another striper nailed my fly and came off a few seconds later, and then Bob hooked and landed a striper. I thought the good times were going to roll, but it ended then and there, proving an enduring aphorism about striped bass. This migratory species often produces feast or famine action, but that morning, the "meal" turned into an appetizer.

We continued casting, while gulls, terns and cormorants were flying out of the dense, silver-gray shroud from every direction, skimming the water in search of baitfish, a feast for the eyes to make up for slow fishing.

About an hour later, a pair of adult laughing gulls came out of the fog and passed within a few yards of me, small shorebirds with rather short, fat, black heads with bright white necks. This species has a chunky profile like a woodcock, and as the gull's name suggests, the call sounds like laughing ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-haah-haah-haah.

Spotting the laughing gulls pleased me because these little guys seldom catch my eye.

Shorebirds make Popham a joy for folks who enjoy watching feathered creatures. This spot has a wealth of different species, reason enough for a morning romp.

Mallard owns Kennebec River Outfitters in Madison and had never visited Popham. He fell in love with the place on sight and made plans to return with his intrepid companion, Diana, as soon as possible. Who could blame him? A quaint, rustic village sits on the east shore, islands dot the river and bay in the near distance and open ocean lies beyond the mouth, stretching to Ireland one of Maine's most beautiful spots.

Mallard just might be the most feared fishing activist inMaine. When Bob gets on a quality-fishing project, he will not let it go, as the Department of Inland Fisheries and Wildlife has learned. He has resorted to the Freedom of Information Act more than once with the department, and when he thinks policies at DIF&W or in fishing organizations threaten the resource, he minces no words with his disapproval.

Interestingly to me, though, this forceful activist makes an excellent fishing companion. He leaves politics behind, fishes hard and shares tips and even equipment. When lunch time comes, he is an interesting conversationalist soft spoken, witty and quick with self-deprecating humor. More than once, he has told me that in the political arena, he can be as subtle as a bull in a China shop.

Striper fishing on Maine's sand beaches brings out the best in folks, anyway. It is as classic as striper fishing gets. Places like Popham, Scarborough Beach, Higgins Beach, etc. have everything to recommend them for a dawn visit.

The best time to fish for this migratory fish is in late evening, after dark or in early morning, a schedule that fits nicely with a multiple-use resource such as a beach. Sun worshippers and swimmers start arriving in the late forenoon and crowd the sand all day, but in the odd hours, anglers, walkers and joggers can find semi-solitude.

Here are two quick tips: If you are a fly rodder new to stripers, a stripping basket makes sense. Besides adding distance to casts, a stripping basket eliminates the problem of getting sand on the fly line or tangling shooting line in seaweed around the feet. A dishpan and elastic cord for a belt serves the purpose, but a commercial stripping basket with the curved side proves more comfortable.

I also like a shooting head fly line, which makes distant casting easier, a help when a marauding striper school stays 80 to 100 honest feet beyond the fly caster.

Salmonid fishing slows now, so this month is the perfect time to turn to the salt. Estuaries are a little warm now, so places along the edge of the open ocean such as Popham offer cooler water.

Ken Allen, of Belgrade Lakes, is a writer, editor and photographer. To reach him, send e-mail to KAllyn800@aol.com