And Now, An Ending....

It's not quite cold yet. But the time has come for me to put away my fishing gear for the winter.

I spent my October and early November focused on the Yankees. I went to five postseason games, and they won all five. I was there when they clinched the pennant, and I was there when they won the World Series.

I certainly got off to a good start this fishing season, catching two big stripers in April. Then illness and circumstance derailed my season in June. I never had luck after that either in New Rochelle or Riverdale (my safe spot). The trout remain elusive as well.

So I'll see you in late March.

This Is Not How I Am

My last fishing trip was on Monday, August 31. For whatever reason, I never got around to updating the blog. The details of the trip have faded slightly, but are still recalled.

I struck out for the fourth time in a row. Once again, I picked Riverdale, which was a very safe (i.e. reliable and successful) area for me in the spring, despite not catching anything there last time. Since it was the last day of the month, I was determined to catch an August fish. I never had much luck with fishing in August. I know I haven't caught one in August since starting this blog in May 2006. I can't remember the last August fish I caught, though I am certain that I did catch one. So I figured Riverdale would facilitate me catching an August fish. I guess I will have to wait until next year. It's also frustrating that I haven't caught anything since May.

The trip began with a bad omen. As I was driving on the Mosholu Parkway, I suddenly remembered that my tackle box was back home in the basement. This didn't present a problem since I've started keeping my hooks, snap swivels, sinkers, and fish finders in a small pipe tobacco can. Then I realized that I forgot to buy bait. So I turned around and bought a dozen blood worms at Jack's. I probably got to Riverdale at 3 PM or so.

I picked the last viewing area on the promenande. This turned out to be a mistake since part of the fence was overgrown with foliage, which attracted several bees and flies.

Like last time, I tried treble hooks and worm hooks. I don't remember if I ever got a bite. But I would like to keep experimenting with them (especially next spring).

The only eventful thing that happened was that a man came to see me. The man (who was in his mid-50s) said he currently lives in Alaska, but used to live in the Bronx and fish in Riverdale and City Island. We must have talked for maybe 10 minutes.

I remember it being warm, but in the evening it cooled down. I enjoyed a Butera Capo Grande cigar that I had managed to recharge in my home humidor. I also passed the time listening to my iPod and reading the newspaper. Since I had no luck (despite my usual tricks), I went home maybe 6 PM or 6:30.

When I got home, I watched the Yankee game and saw Andy Pettitte lose a perfect game in the 7th inning in Baltimore. He did get the win, and that lifted my spirits.

As to why I haven't fished in September, I can't really explain it. Once again, I let time pass me by.

Although it's now October, I am not quite ready to give up for the season.

God Says Hello

And Did They Get You to Trade Your Heroes For Ghosts?

I struck out for the third time in a row.

Last Friday (July 17), I returned to Riverdale. I admit I decided to fish there because it's been a safe and reliable spot for me this past season.

After picking up two dozen bloodworms from Jack's, I had my lines in the water at 4:30, about a half hour before high tide.

The weather was humid, and the sky was filled with omnious clouds. Heavy rain and thunderstorms were predicted, but they arrived long after I left. The water was calm.

On that day, I decided to experiment with some new hooks I bought via mail order from Cabelas. For two poles, I used treble hooks. One type I bought was snelled (which I attached on a snap swivel), while the other was not. The second type has a large-enough eye that my fish finder wouldn't slip through it. So I was able to tie it to the line. I wondered if hooking the worm on three hooks would reduce chances of the bait slipping off and also increase the chances of securely hooking a fish. For my third line, I used worm hooks, which I tied to the line.

I did have a few bites. One time I nearly hooked something, but the fish let go of the bait or managed to unhook itself. I did check the lines a few times and saw that the hooks were completely clean. I don't want to conclude my experiment was a failure until I try it a few more ones.

I passed the time reading the Wall Street Journal and the Bronx Times-Reporter. I listened to my iPod, and I exchanged emails, using my BlackBerry Pearl, with a friend.

In the evening, it got cooler, and the sun began to peek through the clouds. I enjoyed the cool weather and was treated to a beautiful sunset.

I left around 8:30 or so after it got dark.

Fishing always seems to slow down in the summer, so we'll see what the next couple of months bring.

With Your Nerves in Tatters

After a month of silence, I have returned. "Where have you been?" the three of you who visit this blog regularly must be asking. About a day after the Croton disaster, I caught a bad cold--it seemed more like the flu--which incapacitated me the rest of the week. I then caught a minor ear infection, which nagged me for a couple of weeks. My bizarre sleep patterns and some bad weather also helped derail my fishing plans for June.

Today, I went fishing at Five Islands Park in New Rochelle. It's hard to believe that I haven't fished here since April 27. Time passes awful quickly.

I stocked up on supplies at Jack's and bought two dozen bloodworms and two fresh bunker. Once again, I bought more bait than I needed.

I got to the dock around 12 PM, about 90 minutes or so before high tide. The sun was out, and it wasn't too hot. There was a slight breeze. The dock often moved back and forth, perhaps due to the breeze and the water, which was unusually active.

I used three lines, two with bloodworms and one with bunker. Today, I also experimented with snelled Kahle hooks, which are shaped like this. Unfortunately, the ones I bought at Jack's had too much flourocarbon leader (at least three feet) attached to them. I was able to cast my lines with these hooks, but they're more suited for deeper water.

I had exactly one bite. When I reeled it in, the line snapped. I didn't have any other bites. I guess the fish were on vacation.

I packed up around 3:30, as the tide was going out.

I do have a few things to do before my next fishing trip: organize my tackle box, throw out stuff I don't need, clean and then respool one reel, and wash my fishing rags.

Can You Show Me Where It Hurts?

Yesterday (Monday), I followed up on a pledge to try a new place to fish. (Complacency has always been a big problem with me.) I picked Croton Point Park in Croton-on-Hudson in northern Westchester County. The park is adjacent to the Hudson River.

I tried scouting it late Saturday night, but I missed the exit and ended up in Putnam County. After checking a map, I found it Sunday afternoon. I drove up the Bronx River Parkway, switched to the Sprain Brook Parkway, and then the Taconic State Parkway. I got off at the exit for Route 9A, which took me to the park. I had to pay $8, as a non-resident, to access the park. Since it was a Sunday, the park was packed with visitors. I asked a man who fishing with his girlfriend what type of fish were in these waters. He said that someone recently caught a 40-pound striper. He also said there catfish in the water. I thanked him and wished him luck.

After picking up bait (two dozen bloodworms and two fresh bunker), I got to the park around 3:30 PM. Before fishing, I had some lunch at a picknic table. Since it was a weekday, the park was relatively deserted.

The day turned out to be a disappointment. After doing a little research on the Internet and checking the map, it seemed I didn't really fish in the Hudson River, but Croton Bay, which is in the southern part of the park. (You can see land across the water in the above photo.)

I started out by using bloodworms on two lines and a piece of fresh bunker on the third. The weather was sunny, and it was quite windy.

It seems the bottom of Croton Bay is quite rocky. I kept getting my lines caught on the bottom. When a fish hook gets snagged on a submerged rock, it's very difficult to get it loose, especially from shore. It's almost like hammering a mountain-climbing spike into rock. After fishing for about an hour and 45 minutes, I ran out of sinkers. (At one point, I did see one my lines moving, suggesting a fish was nibbling on it.) So I gave up.

I should rescout the park and find a more suitable place to fish, especially on the Hudson River.

The Catch(es) of the Day

My first perch of the day:

I caught these two perches by hand, after losing them in the rocks below:

A striper:

Thank you, St. Jude and St. Peter.

I Do Believe It's Working, Good

On Thursday (May 28), I went fishing in Riverdale. (I know it's been a few days, so my recollections may not be as fresh.)

After buying two dozen bloodworms, I got there around 2:15. I made a couple of changes. First, I fished in the first viewing area on the promenade instead of my usual last. Second, I brought three rods with me instead of two. The second time I fished in Riverdale, I got two lines tangled. This time, I figured that if I carefully cast them, I would avoid getting them tangled.

It was cool and extremely cloudy. There was also a lot of fog, which got thicker as the day went on. The one good thing about fishing on a weekday, especially when the weather is bad, is that there is no else around.

I had a couple of hits early on, but I didn't catch anything. I read a little more of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. (Did I ever mention that I'm a slow reader?) I listened to my iPod. I said my novenas and a rosary. (Yes, St. Jude and St. Peter delivered once again.)

After about two hours, I caught a perch. It was nine inches long. I threw it back.

Bringing a third pole turned out to be a smart move. I didn't get my lines tangled. A short time later, a second fish got itself hooked. I reeled it in and brought to some rocks below. The fish then got unhooked and disappeared into the rocks. To me, catching a fish means gaining power over it--keeping it or releasing it. I carefully climbed down on the rocks to see if I could get it, but I didn't see it.

I lost a second fish in those same rocks. My line just snapped, and the fish fell off. It wasn't that big. Determined to get it, I climbed back down. The seaweed on the some of the rocks, which are covered by the water when the tide comes in, makes them slippery.

I managed to fish the fish, a small perch. I also found the other fish, a tiny perch. I put them on the viewing area and climbed back up. Since they were small, I didn't bother measuring them. After taking their picture, I returned them to the river. With a little effort, I managed to double the number of fish I caught today.

Yes, I caught one more fish, a striper. This one measured 11 inches, but didn't weigh back. Unfortunately, it swallowed the hook, and I couldn't get it out. So I threw it back with the hook stuck down its throat.

I don't remember when exactly, but the fog moved on the river from both the north and south. On the south side, the George Washington Bridge disappeared behind the thick fog. I also brought my binoculars to see what was on the New Jersey side of the Hudson. The Jersey side looks like a big wall. You can see some rocky areas as well as trees. Perhaps 45 degrees on my right side, I saw what I thought was a dock with boats. I also spotted what looked like a path, but I didn't see any cars.

I left around 6:30 or so even though I still had plenty of bait. The tide got low, and I didn't expect any more fish.

As always, I'm glad I caught something, but I found myself asking, "Where were the big fish today?"

There Is No Pain, You Are Receding

Today, I tried Kensico again. I returned to an area not far from the dam, where I fished several times before with some luck.

I wanted to do try something different today. Instead of sawbellies, I thought I'd try bloodworms instead with my larger poles with heavier test line. In the early days, meaning 1996, I did catch a couple of fish that way.

I picked up just a dozen bloodworms at Jack's. (Wade's doesn't carry bloodworms.) I got to the rock around 2:15 and had two lines in the water with bloodworms.

The weather was overcast and quite cool. There was little wind, and the water was still.

Going in, I honestly didn't expect to catch anything or even stay long.

I met my expectations. I didn't have a single bite. At one point, I tried to reel in one of the two bloodworms, but it got stuck. I pulled and pulled, but it wouldn't budge. I just didn't feel like cutting the line, especially after respooling it recently. So I just put my rod down with a hope that a fish might free the line for me.

I opted not to listen to my iPod. Instead, I read more of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. I enjoyed the sounds such as the wind blowing through the leaves. At one point, I heard knocking. I could tell it came high up, off the ground. It must have been a woodpecker. I named him "Woody," after a childhood favorite.

I eventually tried the line that got stuck. I was able to reel it in. How did it get loose? Did a fish help me out, or was it something else?

With my third pole, I tried a lure, a spoon with green tails. I don't know the exact name, or how it got into my tackle box. Although I was able to cast it far, I had no luck with it. All too often, I buy things I never or rarely use or really need.

As I was standing on the rock and looking at the water, I asked myself, "Where are the fish?" I was hoping to see a fish jump out of the water, but I didn't see any. I also didn't see a single rowboat. I reminded myself that I keep trying Kensico because there is always a chance I might catch something.

I gave early, before 5 PM. We'll see what the rest of the week brings.

The Catch(es) of the Day

A striper:

A perch:

Thank you, St. Peter and St. Jude.

That'll Keep You Going For the Show

Yesterday (Sunday), I went to Riverdale, a spot that has been quite good to me.

I began the trip, as I usually do, by picking up bait at Jack's. Much to my horror, Big John told me they were out of bloodworms. I just bought a couple of fresh bunker. Before going fishing, I was determined to find some bloodworms. I stopped at Island Bait and Tackle, another shop on City Island. Fortunately, they had bloodworms. I also noticed that they sell "large" bloodworms. They didn't have any of those, so I just bought two dozen "regular" ones.

I got to Riverdale around 3:15, about 75 minutes before high tide. Someone left his open, unpaid Verizon DSL bill on the seat. (Today, I resealed the envelope with a note telling the man that he shouldn't leave important bills in public places and dropped it into a mailbox.)

I used two poles, the ones I respooled last time. I used a bloodworm on one and fresh bunker on the other.

When I got there, it was very overcast and windy. The water was raging. I didn't let that deter me since I remember catching a couple of big catfish in Dobbs Ferry when a strong wind stirred up the river. It also started to rain a little, but it eventually stopped and dried out. My problem was the cold. I left my jacket at home, which I regretted. It was in the 50s, but it felt more like the late 40s.

I didn't have any bites. I checked the bloodworm line and saw that I lost the bait a couple of times. Did a fish or crab slip it off or did the impact of hitting the water dislodge them? Who knows.

The first fish I caught was striper. It didn't weigh much and measured almost 11 inches. I threw it back.

I eventually switched my second line to a bloodworm. I had a number of bites, but the fish never managed to hook themselves. I often replaced the bait that was gnawed away or completely removed.

Later in the day, I was determined to keep a piece of fresh bunker on a line for an extended period. But I had no hits with it. After losing the bunker when I recast the line, I permanently switched to bloodworms. Since I usually get two dozen, they don't go fast.

As usual, I listened to my iPod. I also began reading Douglas Adams' The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (1979, 1985 paperback edition), which I've had on my shelf since the mid-1980s.

I caught only one more fish. This one was a perch, heavier than the striper I caught earlier, but about 11 inches.

Although I was grateful, as always, at catching something, I still felt disappointed. Why didn't I catch more fish or something bigger? Maybe I should use different hooks and experiment with different baits.

I left around 8 PM.

Running Over the Same Old Ground

Today, I made my return to Hudson Park in New Rochelle for the first time in over a year. If you recall, the last time I was here I lost a large striper.

I picked up two dozen bloodworms and one fresh bunker from Jack's. I got to Hudson Park around 4:30 at high tide. It was sunny and warm, but with no wind. I chose Hudson Park because of its convenience. I was feeling a little under the weather with a couple of pains, and I didn't feel like carrying my fishing gear over a distance.

I began the day by respooling two of my poles with 17-pound test. By 5 PM, I had my lines in the water, two with bloodworms and one with a piece of fresh bunker.

I didn't get a single bite all day. I said my prayer. I changed bait. I reeled in the lines a little to draw attention to the bait. I recast the lines. Nothing worked.

What's funny is that there were fish jumping out of the water. One fisherman, using a bunker sinker (a sinker with several hooks), caught a few bunker.

I passed the time by reading the Wall Street Journal and listening to my iPod. In the evening, I smoked a very good cigar.

I gave up around 7:10.

I hope to try Riverdale on Sunday and maybe a new location during the week.

One Slip

This is the very spot where I slipped and broke my ankle nearly 13 years ago, laying me out for six weeks. Little did I know that, that slip (and another serious injury four years earlier) would have long-term consequences for my health.

The Price of a Few Hundred Ordinary Lives

Yesterday (Monday), I finally made it to Kensico for the first time in two years. I brought my two smaller poles I use for trout and bucket with the aerator.

My first task was to find Wade's Bait and Tackle, which moved again. It went from North White Plains to Valhalla and now Hawthorne. I stopped at the Kensico Dam Plaza to study my roadmap. After driving for about 10 minutes (up Columbus Avenue and then left on West Stevens Avenue), I found Wade's, which is right next to the Gate of Heaven Cemetery and maybe a block or two from the Mt. Pleasant Metro North Station. (I also discovered that Wade's is right off the Taconic State Parkway.)

The man there said they were out of sawbellies, but had shiners. I bought a dozen of them. I also bought three new lures. The man said the trout were biting and advised me to fish one shiner with a bobber and one off the bottom.

I decided to return to a rock, off Rye Bridge, which I haven't tried in over ten years. That rock is very significant in my personal history. It's where I broke my ankle in August 1996. I did return to the rock maybe a couple of times afterward when I was healed up, but I don't think I've been back since the 1990s. I guess I got used to other spots at Kensico.

The only change I noticed is that a sunken tree on the right side of the rock was no longer there. Everything else looked the same.

I also brought along the long pole I usually use for New Rochelle and the Hudson River. I wanted to use it for lures.

I started fishing around 4:30. The sun was out, and the water was still. Using the small poles with egg sinkers, I could never get a good cast. With the bobber, I got the line only a few feet off shore. I also forgot that one of my poles has a defect. Whenever I cast the line out, it always got caught on a slight nick on my reel, which caused my line to drop. I should either replace the reel or find a way to fix the nick before using it next time. I lost a few shiners when casting the line. I didn't have a single bite.

With the long pole, I tried numerous casts with a Krocodile. But I didn't have any luck. In fact, I got my line tangled. Now I probably have to respool it.

I gave up at 6:30, earlier than I planned. I dumped the rest of the shiners in the water.

The day was frustrating. I never had much luck with trout. So why does Kensico keep luring me? It's a nice drive up, and the area is very beautiful. I also have hope that I'll catch something big here someday.

The Only Catch of the Day

This is the only fish, a 10-inch striper, but, as always, I'm glad I caught something.

Thank you, St. Peter and St. Jude.

Outside the Rain Fell Dark and Slow

Yesterday (Friday), I went to Riverdale for some late afternoon fishing. I bought two dozen bloodworms at Jack's. (I decided to skip the eels this time.)

I got to the Metro-North station around 4:20. I managed to find a parking spot near the entrance, which I interpreted as a good sign. I paid the weekday, $3.25 parking fee.

The promenade was deserted. Like I did the last few times, I set up shop in the last viewing area. By 4:30, I had my two lines in the water.

The weather was cool and occasionally breezy. Since I expected rain, I dressed for it. The skies were dark gray, but it rained only a little. At times, there was a layer of foggy mist on top of the water, which I thought was quite beautiful. I started fishing as the tide was going out.

Whenever I go fishing and a slight rain falls, I'm always reminded of that afternoon I spent in a boat on the Potomac River in Washington, D.C. in May 1997. If you recall, I mentioned that experience in my very first post. Back then, I had just passed the comprehensive exam to earn my Master's Degree. Although I did the best academic work of my life, graduate school was often brutal, and I was relieved that I made it to the finish line. That day on the Potomac, I caught a few perch and a large catfish, which increased my already-celebratory mood.

With that Potomac memory in mind, I was in a great mood in Riverdale. Once again, I remembered to seek St. Peter's intercession. And once again, he didn't disappoint.

I admit that I expected to catch a lot of fish. Instead, I caught only one small striped bass, which measured 10 inches. I did have a number of bites on both poles, but only one fish managed to hook itself.

When I usually attach a bloodworm to the hook, it usually spurts a little blood. In turn, the blood attracts the fish. Most of the worms I used didn't shed any blood. I wonder if Jack's gave me some nightcrawlers by mistake.

I passed the time by smoking a cigar and listening to my iPod. I enjoyed Pink Floyd, Lita Ford, the Temptations, and Smokey Robinson and the Miracles, among others.

I gave up slightly after 8 PM. It got dark, and the tide was low. Although I caught only one fish, I felt really good today, and I'm glad I went.

I was planning to try Kensico and even got my gear ready. But the Web site for Wade's Bait and Tackle said that they would be out of sawbellies for a couple of days.

We'll see what the week brings.

The Catch of the Day

My only catch today was not a fish. Still, thank you, St. Peter.

How Can I Escape This Irresistible Grasp?

Today, I went up to Five Islands Park in New Rochelle. The weather and my unusual sleeping patterns prevented me from going fishing last week as I originally planned.

I bought two dozen bloodworms at Jack's and four eels.

I got to the dock around 1:30, at high tide. It was sunny, warm, and the water was perfectly still.

I had bloodworms on two lines. I used an eel on the third. I had trouble picking up an eel in the bucket. Even with a rag, I couldn't get a good grip on it. I dumped some of the water in the bucket to make it easier, but one of the eels slipped out into the water. After some more struggling, I managed to grab one and attach it to the hook.

Once again, I remembered to seek St. Peter's intercession. Although I didn't catch any fish, he didn't disappoint.

I didn't have a single bite all day. I reeled in the lines and attached new bloodworms a couple of times. Since the eel continued to live, I didn't dump it for a fresh one.

I don't remember the exact time, but I reeled in the line with the eel to check it. It felt heavier than usual. Did I snag some garbage? When I pulled it out, I saw that I caught a crab. It didn't seem hook itself, but it got tangled in the line. It laid on its back on the dock. Its span measured 12 inches. Using my foot, I gently pushed it back into the water. (These things bite, you know.)

I stayed until 5 PM. I dumped the bloodworms and the two eels in the bucket in the water. I released the eel on the hook in the water, very much alive.

I wonder where the fish were. Did they stay away because of the heat or was Holy Thursday's triumph a fluke?

Although I'm glad I caught something, I found today's fishing experience unpleasant. Eels are slippery, and they smell bad. But I know I'll probably experiment with them on the Hudson River.

The Catch of the Day

The first catch of the day turned out to be the biggest, measuring 19 inches.

Thank you, once again, St. Peter and St. Jude.

Cold Comfort for Change

Yesterday (Sunday), I went fishing on the Hudson River in Riverdale. I bought two dozen blood worms and one fresh bunker at Jack's.

High tide in Riverdale was about 5:50 PM. So I got there around 3 PM. It was sunny, breezy, and warm at first.

I used bloodworms on both lines. I had no action for the first 20 minutes or so. I remembered to ask St. Peter for his intercession, and he delivered once again.

Around 3:40, I caught my first fish. As I was reeling it in, I knew it was larger than any of the fish I caught here previously. I pulled out a striped bass. It measured 19 inches. When I picked it up to remove the hook, I saw that it left a sizable pool of blood on the ground. It completely swallowed the hook, which slashed its gills. Since there was no way of removing the hook, I just cut the line and threw the fish back.

I eventually tried fresh bunker on one line, but I didn't have any luck. Using a bloodworm, I caught another striper. This one measured about 14 inches. I returned it to the river.

As the evening set in, the temperature dropped significantly. I'm glad I brought a jacket. Throughout the day, I took notice of the barges that were sitting on the river. I counted ten of them. Why were they just sitting there?

I caught one more striper with a bloodworm. This one was small, about nine inches or so. He, too, was sent safely on his way.

In the evening, a very pleasant Jewish man brought his young son over. The man's accent suggested Israel or Russia. He was very curious about fishing and asked a few questions: What kind of bait do I use? Are the fish I catch safe to eat? How do I know if I caught something? When I attached a fresh bloodworm to my hook, he told his son to observe my technique. I showed them a picture from my digital camera of the big striper I caught, and they were both impressed. The man and his son soon left. The father was very nice and gracious, and I hope he takes up fishing.

I packed up and left at 7:45. Catching the big striper told me there are large fish to be caught in this area. So I shouldn't expect to catch small fish here.

We'll see what the week brings. I would like to try Kenisco and use eels for bait, both in New Rochelle and here in Riverdale.

The Catch of the Day (and a Self-Composed Fisherman's Prayer)

And the Lord, in his mercy, did smile on the broken-down, washed-up writer and repentant sinner, delivering unto him, on this windy Holy Thursday, in New Rochelle (the adopted home of Henry Louis Gehrig), a large formidable, striped bass....

Thank you both, St. Peter and St. Jude.

Ice Is Forming on the Tips of My Wings

Today, on this Holy Thursday, I went up to Five Islands Park in New Rochelle, where I failed to catch a single fish in four previous attempts. Although it's been a chilly Holy Week, it was a little warmer today. I left my jacket at home, which turned out to be a mistake. Why did go back to an area where I have had absolutely no luck? I was eager to try blood worms.

I got one frozen bunker and two dozen blood worms at Jack's. As I walked to area, I immediately picked up the strong wind. There were three teenagers on the dock, so I started fishing nearby in shallow water.

The sun was out. The tide was going out. It was quite windy. Certainly, these aren't the fishing conditions I look forward to.

The teens eventually left, and I moved to the dock. By 1:45 or so, I had three lines in the water, all with blood worms.

After one strong wind gust (which lead me to conclude that I wouldn't catch anything and going fishing today might have been a mistake), I asked St. Peter, the patron saint of fishermen, for help. He soon delivered.

I was sitting in my chair and catching up with my novenas for the day when I had action on one of my lines. I got up, reeled it in little, and noticed the line moving away from shore. I began to reel it in and felt something sizable on the line. I got it to the dock, reached down into the water, and carefully pulled out a big striped bass.

I was ecstatic! I finally caught something in Five Islands Park, and I caught something big today. The striper measured about 20 inches. I unhooked him, thanked St. Peter for his intercession, and released the fish back into the water.

Much later, I reeled in one line to check it. I noticed I had something, but it wasn't a fish. Was it garbage or perhaps a crab? It turned to be four or five mussel shells stuck together. A couple were empty, and the rest were closed. It took a little effort to pry my hook loose. I threw the shells back.

I eventually attached a piece of thawed-out bunker to one line and placed fresh bloodworms on the other two. Unfortunately, I didn't have anymore bites. The tide was going out. The wind got stronger. The temperature also dropped noticeably.

Thinking I had a great day fishing, I packed up my gear around 4:30. I dumped the bunker in the water. I don't know why, but I didn't dump the worms in the water, as I usually do. I was planning to throw them in the garbage. As I was leaving, I noticed two kids with fishing poles making theie way to the dock. I told them about the striper I caught. I also gave them the rest of my blood worms. They were grateful since they had only lures and no live bait.

Today's success established my faith that this area can be good for fishing. I had been losing hope in it. We'll see what happens in the next few months.

The Catches of the Day

A perch. (I'm lucky it stood still for a second while I snapped the picture.)



An 11-inch striped bass.


Thank you, St. Jude.

Coming Through in Waves

The forecast called for a pleasant Palm Sunday. So I decided to go fishing. During the late morning, I fell asleep watching Alien (1979). After waking up in mid-afternoon, I left the house. I didn't know whether to try Hudson Park in New Rochelle or the Hudson River in Riverdale.

I went to Jack's and bought one frozen bunker, two frozen herring, and two dozen blood worms. I decided to go to Hudson Park. When I got there, however, I saw how bone-dry the area was at low tide. Since I didn't think I would have any luck, I immediately headed to Riverdale. I got there around 4:20 or so. I intended to stay until dark or until someone with a badge kicked me out in order to lock up the area.

I brought two poles with me and went to the last viewing area on the promenade. There was a couple sitting on one of the two park benches. I politely said hello and began to bait my lines. The bunker needed more time to thaw out. So I used one blood worm and one herring. I carefully cast my lines, making sure to avoid snagging my line on the nearby bush or hitting the couple on the bench. I took out my camera, and I noticed it wasn't charged. So I had to use my Blackberry Pearl to take pictures.

Conditions were near perfect. It was a bright, sunny day with a slight breeze. (By contrast, we practically got a wind storm yesterday.) I didn't need my jacket.

As I waited for a bite, I listened to my iPod. The couple eventually left. I then prayed my novenas for the day (including for a friend who is seriously ill). Not too long ago, I prayed a novena to St. Jude, asking to catch a lot of fish this season. He delivered.

I got a couple of bites in the first hour with the blood worm, which raised my hopes that I would not leave here disappointed. A man showed up, said hello, sat down on the bench, and began reading.

After about an hour, I had another bite. I reeled it in and lifted a striped bass out of the water. It didn't weigh much but measured nine inches. I threw it back. This turned out to be the first of seven fish I caught today. I haven't caught this many in one day since starting this blog.

I then caught a fat, little perch, which measured eight inches. I returned him to the water. After the bunker thawed, I attached a piece on my second line. I kept using blood worms on the first, which caught the striper and the perch. I didn't have any luck (meaning bites) with the bunker or herring. But with blood worms, I kept getting hits, so I soon switched my second line to them. Since I bought two dozen of them, it seemed like the smart thing to do.

As the evening set in, I kept getting hits, occasionally on both lines at once. I caught one more perch and then four more stripers. The the second striper I caught (and the fourth fish of the day) measured 11 inches. It was the longest fish I caught today. (There others were about the same size.) I threw them all back.

I gave up around 8 PM. I dumped the rest of the bait and went home.

What puzzles me is why I never had much luck with blood worms when I fished the Hudson River in Dobbs Ferry. But the two of three times I've fished here in Riverdale, the fish (and not just the perch) went for the blood worms. (Time will tell if I catch a catfish here.)

I know I'll be back here frequently, but I'll try not to get too complacent.

This is what a broken-down, washed-up loser like me needed... a good day.

Return of a Man Called Horse

I have returned.

Although it's still technically winter, it was warmer than normal today. So I decided to go fishing. I went to Jack's and stocked up on supplies. I was told they won't have any fresh bunker for at least two weeks. They were also sold out of blood worms. I bought a dozen sandworms and a dozen nightcrawlers.

I went up to Five Islands Park in New Rochelle. The clouds were out. There was no wind. It was pleasantly cool. The water was still. The tide was coming in. If you may recall, I live for fishing conditions such as these.

Once again, however, I struck out.

In fact, I didn't have a single bite. I had three lines in the water. I did my usual tricks. I reeled in the lines to draw attention to the bait. I recast the lines. I also changed the bait several times. But nothing.

I passed the time listening to my iPod and pacing back and forth on the dock like an expectant father. When fishing across the water in Hudson Park, I've caught a number of fish out of these same waters. So why do the fish seem to avoid the waters near Five Islands Park? I plan on consulting with the owner of Hudson Park Bait and Tackle for guidance.

Another idea is to fish elsewhere. As I've written before, I tend to get too complacent at times and keep trying the same areas over and over again rather than exploring new waters.

Around 3 PM, I gave up. I dumped the worms in the water and packed up.

Still, it was worth shaking off the winter rust.