Return to the Golf Course Pt.2 (Plus some bonus fish)

The second outing to the golf course occurred a couple weeks after the first one. School has been taking a huge toll on fishing, but I got out that Sunday for some fall bassing. 

It was a beautiful day, bluebird skies, trees turning colored, and a fresh fall breeze. 

I tied on a crawfish trailer on a small finesse jig, and hopped it around, hoping for some eager biters. The water was fairly cold, so my intentions were to pick off fish here and there, not to have a great numbers day.

Right away I got started with some very small bass, but the action lulled after a while. 

As the day grew older, I was a bit nervous about the situation. I hadn't had a bit of action in over an hour, and in a small, shallow pond like this, that wasn't a good sign. I bombed a cast with the jig to the center of the pond, where a fallen tree laid. I gave it three hops and it got crushed. 

Right away I could tell this fish was of a higher caliber. It jumped, and then I knew it was nice. The fight was actually pretty decent with my light gear, with the bass giving all of its effort to shake the hook. However, it was over soon enough, and I reached down to grab it. 

It measured out at 17" and three pounds. I don't know if it was my  golf course pb, but it had to be close.

The fish was pretty skinny and had a huge head. You can tell this fish was old by the size of the head, but the small body shows the slow growth rate in these cold, shallow waters of the northeast.

Satisfied, I decided to push my luck and walked over to the end of the pond when I was confident all the golfers were gone. The sun was near setting, and I tossed my jig around, and picked at some teeny bass.

                        

On one cast, I pitched my jig out no more than 10 feet out in front of a patch a reeds, and when I hopped the jig a couple of times, I felt resistance and thought I had hooked some weeds. I pulled up in annoyance, but the "weeds" shot off for deeper water. I tightened my drag and fought the fish, shocked with how lethargically he hit it. As it neared, it flashed its flank and I saw that it was bigger than the last one.

My heart rate spiked, and I grabbed it desperately once it hit the bank.

This fish was a tubby one. 18" and 3.5 lbs. Definitely a new golf course pb. Again, big head, small body. That's how it goes for these fish up here. Still looking for that 4 lber golf course fish, but this'll do for now.

To catch some nice golf course bass felt nice. The search for one that breakes the 4 lb mark continues...

First Return to the Golf Course

So a crazy turn of events happened recently. We ended up moving back to our old house, and that brought me back to my beloved golf course. Naturally, I took it upon myself to fish for a while. I started with the creek that flows under the bridge, in hopes of a whie sucker. They were there, but they wanted nothing to do with me. 

I did get a bunch of sunnies, a bullhead and a couple small bass as a consolation before I decided to head to the pond. 

Looks like he was attacked when he was younger. Oddly enough, this is the most mottled I've ever seen a yellow bullhead. 

A couple smaller bass found their way to my bait.

I headed back up to the pond. It looked quite surreal, to be honest. The dead calm water and the lushness of early fall made it seem like paradise. Quite interesting was the noticeable decrease in algae and weedbeds, perhaps they stocked some grass carp? I did see some big swirls when I cast my bait, swirls too big to be bass... But that's a matter for another time.

I was focused on catching some bass, as I haven't caught a golf course bass in a long time. I tossed around a 7 inch texas-rigged worm, and was rewarded with a chunky bass.

It was good to be back.

More smaller fish ensued. I was ecstatic. With all the "strange" fish I have been fishing for recently, it felt nce to throw a line for some good ol' largies. Meanwhile, enjoy the showcase of some average-ish nj fall golf course bass.

It did feel quite good to be on familiar ground, fishing for familar faces.

Belmar Bergalls

The day was definitely not over. The whole family had plans to head over to the Jersey shore for an afternoon on the beach at Belmar. Knowing that there was a chance to catch a plethora of new species, I was more than happy to bring some fishing gear along. 

Hopes were high on the beautiful afternoon for fluke, searobin, seabass, and others. Unfortunately, I was caught in a tough situation: I had no bait. Nonetheless, as I got dropped off at the Shark River inlet, I was quite optimistic. As I looked around, there were plenty of anglers, but none seemed to be catching much. Tying on a bucktail jig with Gulp! and a teaser, I cast into the inlet. Cast after cast followed, with not even a nibble. As the day wore on, I began to see people using clams catching what appeared to be tiny seabass. I sighed, knowing that this was a potential lifer I would miss out on. 

Oddly enough, the water began to become calmer as time passed, allowing me too look at the life underwater. I began to notice small grey fish swimming along in pairs. I decided to switch my tactics up and put a small hook on with some smelly Gulp! maggots. I planned to poke around the rocks to see if I couldn't find myself a bergall. I knew that this was prime habitat for the pesky bait-stealer. 

Lowering my rig into a likely-looking crevice, all doubts I had were eliminated as my bait was immediately swarmed with bergalls. With their hard mouths and sharp teeth, it was a couple savage bites until I finally hooked one. 

It was that simple. Species #71, the bergall! 

My first was small and rusty-brown. I overheard the guys fishing next to me say with sarcastic disbelief: "He's taking a photo of a cunner(local nickname for bergall)?" Joke's on them. They didn't catch squat with their heavy rigs. 

After my first one, it immediately became evident that these were the bluegills of the coast. I understand now why these little buggers are such a bane to fishermen: Their strong jaws and teeth are literally made for ripping baits off hooks. 

As I poked around a little more, lots of little bergalls greedily attacked my bait.

I've read that bergalls have the ability to change color. I don't know if that's true, since I didn't observe any changes myself, but I did notice a huge variety of hues present. One I caught was pretty much a bright scarlet. Compared with the greenish-brown one above, the difference is incredible, especially in person.

As I dropped my bait into an enticing hole in the rocks, I felt a sharp tug, then nothing as the fish scrambled into the rocks. The scenario repeated itself before I was able to finally turn it on my light gear and pulled up a much larger bergall. For such small fish, they sure pull hard in some short spurts of power. The bigger specimens seem to have a particular affinity for diving into rocks upon grabbing the bait, not unlike tautog and groupers.

A few more bergalls followed, including a couple larger ones.

After a while of catching bergalls, the sun began to crawl lower and I decided it was a good time to head back to the beach for a swim. It was a pretty productive outing, finishing with 22 bergalls, a new species. In hindsight I should have cut one up for bait, perhaps I would have lucked into a searobin, seabass, skate, or who knows what. Oh well, there's always next time.

Killing Time at Core Creek

This past Sunday I had an opportunity to go to Core Creek, a large lake nearby. Because I didn't have much luck at it previously,  I decided to head to its spillway, where I knew there was a greater concentration of fish. There were carp, sunfish, bass, catfish, and even a slim chance for a white perch, a species I still need for the lifelist.

With one rod I threw a little bit of corn out in hopes of a carp or two, and with my ultralight, I tied on a jig with a piece of gulp minnow. Immediately I was into bluegills on the jig. Despite the murky (and smelly, to be honest) water, the fish were aggressive and appeared to be very healthy as well. Some where also surprisingly colorful, which I would not have expected given the low visibility in the water. 

A bunch of bluegills later, I had made a bad cast and was reeling in my jig quickly, with it skimming the top of the water. I had a small but savage strike as the jig was on top. I was mildly amused as I lifted up a miniature largemouth. How something so small could have produced a splash larger than itself is beyond me.

More bluegills followed, as expected.

Between the never ending waves of bluegills, I hooked into a real gem - a spectacular emerald pumpkinseed. I don't know if this is the most colorful sunfish I have ever caught, but it had to be close. 

Eventually, I got tired of bluegills in the merciless August sun, so I sat in the shade sipping water while waiting for the carp rod to do something. I glanced down for a second, then glanced back up again, and couldn't see my rod. I sprinted to the bank where I saw my rod on the ground, fallen over next to the rock I propped it against, the line slowly moving along. 

I knew straight away this wasn't a carp. Carp bolt as soon as they feel the hook. I reeled it in uneventfully while something gave a rather sluggish fight on the other end of my line. I wasn't too surprised when I saw a little mouth and whiskers emerge from the muddiness: A bullhead.

Given the slight mottling, I assumed it was a brown, but a quick chin barbel check proved it was a yellow. It wasn't big by any means, but larger than all the other yellow bullheads I've encountered.

The heat eventually got to me and I headed back, calling it an outing. Not bad at all, finishing with a pb yellow bullhead and a stunner pumpkinseed. However, the day was definitely wasn't over yet...