Author: Mike Scoville

The trip from Holliston, MA to the west end of the Cape Cod Canal was about forty-five minutes and my anticipation grew with the passing of each one. It was a warm mid-July evening and I had been staying in Holliston with a good friend and helping out with a renovation, railroad pocket watch, project at a property where he was resident caretaker.

This same friend was a seasoned salt-water fisherman, railroad pocket watch, and had been responsible for getting me involved in striper fishing the previous fall.

It was a time when new life was just coming back into the sport after years of over fishing and, some would argue, the cyclic nature of the species had brought about scarcity and moratoriums up and down the eastern seaboard.

I had logged many an hour with rod in hand and as of yet didn’t have a single linesider of keeper size to my credit.

But this night would be different – I had felt it all day long as I tried to concentrate on the tasks at hand. During the previous evenings we had put more than a bit of time and effort into our newly discovered spot, and I had found a new favorite swimming plug – a jointed six-inch bomber – black with red eyes. I had the rhythm of that plug in my head, and I knew that if I dredged it through the right eddy that night the fish would be there waiting.

I wasn’t disappointed.

It happened several hours into our session. I had been moving up and down a section of shoreline and had found a nice piece of structure – as the tide dropped a pocket of confused, swirling water had formed and when my plug hit it I slowed my retrieve to let the lure swing with the current. As my line came back under tension I felt the lip of the swimmer dig in and the lure really came to life.

The fish hit with a ferocity I hadn’t felt with any of the schoolies I had caught so far that season and I knew I had hooked into a decent striper. The fight that, railroad pocket watch, ensued was a memorable one – canal fish are known for using the current to their advantage and this one did just that, running me up and down the rocks quite a bit before finally tiring and letting me get the upper hand.

The fish was not huge. In fact most real old-timers would have scoffed at the notion you would call a fish of that size “Big”. At the time though,, railroad pocket watch, many of us “novices” would fish several seasons before catching a legal fish and I had spent a considerable amount of time with my line in the water to land that football-shaped 34 inch fish, which weighed in just under 18 pounds – my first keeper.

I’ve returned to that spot many more times than I can count and have come away with other fish – some larger but none quite as memorable as that first – and also with more stories. Most importantly though the spot has taught me one simple truth – dig deeper, and more often than not you’ll be rewarded for your efforts.

We found “our” spot by doing a little exploration and engaging with local people.

I can’t reveal it’s exact location under penalty of death, although many others already, railroad pocket watch, know of it as worthwhile fishing territory, as is the case with anywhere else along the shores of the Cape Cod Canal.

I can tell you that you won’t find it in Striper Hot Spots or any of the other many publications that I’ve read. That’s not to say that Frank Daignault or some of the other grandfathers of our sport haven’t fished there – I’d be surprised if they hadn’t.

The point is, glean all the information made available to you and then take it one step further. We all know about spots like the Herring Run or the Railroad Bridge. They have been drilled into our heads over and over. I’ve fished them, and I’ve seen many a good fish pulled from them. I’ve even caught a few from these spots myself. But my most satisfying experiences are the ones I’ve created on my own.

Anyone can read a book that tells them where to go and how to fish and achieve some level of success, railroad pocket watch, – that’s fine and I wouldn’t discourage you from doing it. But when you are successful, stop to think about the how’s and why’s. Take your knowledge and use it to find your own spots. Chances are others will have found them before you. If you’re lucky you might run into those other anglers.

If you’re even luckier they’ll share some of their knowledge with you. That’s how great fishing happens, and it’s also how we become better fishermen.

Catching my first keeper bass from a spot I felt my friends and I had pioneered – whether that notion was completely accurate or not – has turned out to be a defining moment in the shaping of my fishing habits. During the first fall I fished for stripers you might have found me at any number of the popular spots I had read about.

One morning that season, after fishing the rotation at one of the breach ways along the southern, railroad pocket watch, R.I. shore through much of what was to be a fishless night, I witnessed tempers flare to near fisticuff levels and quickly decided that was not the type of fishing I was interested in.

The following November, the fall of my second season pursuing these silver ghosts, I would land what turned out to be one of my largest fish to date at a spot one of the local tackle shop owners had told me I would, railroad pocket watch, be foolish to fish that night – “They’re in thick at Watch Hill” he said, “Everyone’s fishing there”.

Exactly why I won’t be, I thought.

Watch. Listen. Learn. Then do your own thing. Just because everyone is fishing a certain spot doesn’t mean you won’t catch fish at a different one. Dig deeper. One simple truth.

Mike loves fishing, camping and the outdoors. Please see Nikon Monarch rifle scopes for optics used for shooting and hunting.

Source: ezinearticles.com