Potter County Fishing Report: Trout Derby Preps

We own you, "Trout Whisperer"!

Better bring your A-Game, "Trout Whisperer"!

Chesapeake Bay Fishing Report, 08-14 June: Dialing It In

The lock downs associated with the COVID virus basically kicked Mikey D Fishing to the right by a month.  Under normal conditions we would have had the boat in the water by mid-May, and figuring out the fish shortly thereafter.  This year, though, we launched the boat a little over two weeks ago, and really haven't had a chance to spend much time out on the bay.

We got that first shot this past week.  Although the tide charts were less than promising, sometimes you just have to go out when the schedule permits.  Aside from Thursday, when thunderstorms rolled in and put the fishing on hold, we got out on four days.  Air temps started out in the high 80s, but cooled off on Friday.  Water temps were in the mid to high-70s.  A bit of a chop at times, but not too uncomfortable.

Monday afternoon we were accompanied by long time pro bono client Mike Shina.  Since this was really our first time out, we decided to hit "the can," a buoy just off Hacketts Point, and south of the Bay Bridge.  We marked fish, but aside from a catfish, the fish ignored our cut Alewife and soft crab baits.  

We headed back out Tuesday afternoon. We checked the can, but interestingly did not mark any fish.  So we pointed the bow north and headed above the bridge.  After a quick scan around he sewer pipe, we continued north to Love Point, a few miles north of the bridge.  The number of boats in the vicinity was a good indicator that the stripers had begun their mid-summer move north of the bridge to find cooler and more oxygenated water.  We set up with the fleet, and began marking fish.  Not great numbers, but consistent.  Soft crabs were the bait of choice, as we boated a 27 incher  and a 22 incher in about 45 minutes of fishing, the first two keepers of the season.

The tides pointed to an early morning departure on Wednesday.  So we left the dock around 0530, and got up to Love Point around 0600 or so.  Had the boat anchored and baits in the water around 0610.  By 0630 the anchor was up, two keepers were in the box, and we were headed back to the dock.  We seemed to have things dialed in.

But ... not so fast.  On Friday, my last day in town, we were joined by Dad, sister Amy and brother Jeff.  Of all the days of the week, Friday was theoretically the best, with good tidal flows, cooler temps, and light winds.  Unfortunately, the fish don't seem to pay attention to the forecasts, which aren't all that accurate anyway.  The light winds turned out to be about 15 knots, which made for a choppy ride up to Love Point.  The winds died down eventually, but the fishing never picked up.  We had some decent hits on soft crab, but the fish were't running with the baits.  We did pick up a couple of shorties on metal jigs, but that was it.

I departed Annapolis on Saturday, and stopped in Coburn to hit Penns Creek.  I figured that, since the Green Drake hatch was done, the stream would be less crowded.  And I was correct.  I had my favorite section all to myself.  And the bugs were coming off, mostly Sulphurs.  Unfortunately, the trout must have known that it was me flailing away at the water.  When the sun dropped over the mountains, the fish started rising.  And I threw every Sulphur pattern I had at them, but couldn't buy a look.  About the only excitement was the doe that nonchalantly crossed the stream right above me.  

But that's Penns, at least for me.  To add insult to injury, as I was packing up to head back to God's Country Sunday morning, the fish gods were sending me a message.

The torture continued on Saturday down south for Capt. Joe and Capt. Salt Life down south.  The good news is that we had a chance to live line after we procured 8 spot on top and bottom rigs in Whitehall Bay.  They were almost too big for live lining and would have made decent table fare.  Nevertheless we headed to some of our historically productive bay bridge pilings only to get skunked.   

Capt Salt Life went out on Sunday with friends on Sunday and caught over 20 live lining and jigging.  It is good that fishing is a passion to counter the capriciousness of fishing success from one day to the next.   Overall, I am optimistic that the streams will bring trout to the net and the Chesapeake will fill the cooler throughout the season!

Tight Lines,

Mikey D Fishing

Nemacolin Brookie

Before my fishing focus turns exclusively to striped bass, I had the opportunity to head to the Laurel Highlands in Western PA to Nemacolin Lodge to experience a four star resort, restaurants, relaxation, and a sense of normalcy compared to the last few months.  Nemacolin also boasts access to incredible fly fishing through their guide center.  Within reach of the lodge, there are a number of classic freestone streams, spring creeks, and tailwater.  

I was fortunate to be posted with Mike Steiner who runs the fly fishing operations out of the lodge.  Mike asked all the right questions from the outset to understand my level of experience and goals for the day.  After a few minutes heading toward the river, we were swapping fish stories and tactics.  I could tell it was going to be a great day of fishing with Mike.  Our destination was the Youghiogheny river.  Near Confluence, PA, the water is a tailwater fishery.   Ph is near neutral with caddis and midges being the predominant insects near the dam.  It was a short wade down river just past a bridge with a single deep unobstructed channel that caught my attention with trout intermittently slurping bugs from the surface.  A quick glance a Mike revealed that this could be on of those double digit fish days.   

The slaps on the water and dimples from slurping fish were deceiving.  Our first caddis / midge dropper combo produced a false strike and several looks.  A pattern developed where we would change the size or color of the caddis, get a look, a refusal or a single strike to be followed by several casts of nothing.  Persistence and Mike's experience paid off with two nice takes.  Unfortunately, both fish went into the weeds and escaped the net.  When the next pattern induced a strike, I did not hesitate to aggressively turn the fish from the grass on the bottom and eventually landed the brookie who fought much stronger than a typical 12" fish.

Other than the two fisherman who failed to follow the unwritten rules of fishing etiquette and spent an hour or so casting into my drift directly across from me, it was a very pleasant and rewarding afternoon.  More than any other kind of angling, the rewards of fly fishing are not counted by the number of fish in the creel.  A healthy fishery, a great guide, unravelling the mystery of feeding fish, and a strong tug on the end of the line are more than this angler can ask for during a day on the river.

Tight Lines,

Mikey D Fishing