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thermoklein

Albies in October - should I bother to try?

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Hi Guys - I don't post much but I do try to keep tabs on what's going on. My challenge right now is trying to time an albie-excursion some time this month; I have a 2 hour schlep from WMass so I want to make it count.

 

I usually launch my kayak somewhere near piles of rocks and patrol inside and outside depending on the wind(s). I have had sporadic to decent luck in recent years but this fall I have serious limitations on my time so I'm trying to find a prime day or two. My tactics most years is to watch the tide charts and find days where the outflow of a nearby pond is underway coinciding with first light. Or does it really matter?

 

Would appreciate any thoughts, random or otherwise.

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Yes. I risk 2 hour drives for albies for the first half of October and have been seeing them pretty often, if less predictably in the second half.

 

Every year is different but in general if it's an up year (lots of them), they stay longer.

Storms chase them sooner, especially dirty ones.

No bait = no albies. Never have figured out what effects bait year to year.

 

As to your second question, yes it matters.

Dawn is best, yes. Do not sleep in.

Having said that, certain locations fish good all day when bait/weather/numbers permit.

As a general rule, if they bite hard, in numbers in the morning, cancel your appointments and stay all day.

If the morning is tough, good afternoon to watch football. 

Outgoing is not always best, unless you enjoy taking your yak way T F in the shipping lanes for fun. 

Shore guys know, let the tide bring the fish to you.

That's location specific, not universal. Your job is to figure out.

 

I guess it may annoy the easily annoyed locals to have a tourist top it the expert.

Certainly they don't want more company on the water. I don't blame them.

Interest in albie fishing is at an all time high as stripers and blues get harder to find. Just saw in the Ma forum RI albies keeping charter captains afloat.

No wonder there were so many boats!

 

I hope they forgive me but I doubt it. I'll live.

 

Post report if you go.

 

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I’m down in soco for the week fishing all day everyday. It’s been really rough so far. There are a few around but not a ton by any means. And they don’t bite anything with a hook involved. 

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15 hours ago, thermoklein said:

Hi Guys - I don't post much but I do try to keep tabs on what's going on. My challenge right now is trying to time an albie-excursion some time this month; I have a 2 hour schlep from WMass so I want to make it count.

 

I usually launch my kayak somewhere near piles of rocks and patrol inside and outside depending on the wind(s). I have had sporadic to decent luck in recent years but this fall I have serious limitations on my time so I'm trying to find a prime day or two. My tactics most years is to watch the tide charts and find days where the outflow of a nearby pond is underway coinciding with first light. Or does it really matter?

 

Would appreciate any thoughts, random or otherwise.

How far of a drive to the Ct shore, there's some good kayak spots for albies in Oct. 

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In 2017 Rhode Island had the "year of the albie" - unprecedented numbers lasted until early November.  This season is much slower but still better than 2016.

Get out and try - there is still a ton of bait moving along the coastline and plenty of small bass to take up the slack.

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I saw a decent size school in a place I never expected them to be in shallow waters.  They were not too far from a popular CT kayak launch point.

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3 hours ago, Billybob said:

How far of a drive to the Ct shore, there's some good kayak spots for albies in Oct. 

 I live near Northampton MA. About 45 min to Hartford, another hour to most SE CT access points. Slightly closer than Row Die Land, but my heart belongs to ‘Gansett.

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2 mins ago, thermoklein said:

 I live near Northampton MA. About 45 min to Hartford, another hour to most SE CT access points. Slightly closer than Row Die Land, but my heart belongs to ‘Gansett.

Well Gansett is cool, and Lord knows we don't need any more Massholes chasing OUR fish. :p

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I am probably not entitled to muse in this fashion, but I sometimes think of myself as a somewhat "honorary Rhode Islander."

 

We started going there in the late 60's when I was a kid because my Dad (a Springfield firefighter) was blown away by the pictures of big bass his pal Tom would show him. This buddy Tom usually fished the Cape, but we found it just too far to visit on my father's limited time schedule (and I don't think 495 even existed then, or wasn't complete maybe?). We found the shore access pretty tight in CT, so RI won somewhat by default. 

 

In those days we initially fished Chucktown, Weekapaug and (to a lesser extent) Quonny a lot, although with not much success. As we slowly learned the game, my father found the structure (and access) of Gansett more appealing, and I came of age hopping gaps on the jetties and falling on my arse a lot along the slippery rocks south of the Coast Guard Beach.

 

One of my greatest fishing memories is being about 13, standing in front of the Pt. Jude light pre-dawn, in a driving rain with the foghorn blasting me every 15 seconds or so. I had my yellow Charlie Murat surf stick and was tossing a big blue/chrome Kastmaster with a dressed single bucktail into the boulder fields and suddenly I hooked something BIG. I fought it hard for a good 10 minutes, never got a decent look other than the tail flapped some distance out and it was definitely a bass. In my memory it might've been 40+ but who knows. The hook pulled out a moment after that, and I was left with a great, great memory, which was - and still is - enough.

 

My late younger brother almost lost an eye at Hazard Ave. a couple of years later when we were casting for the then-plentiful mackerel with light spinning rods. He snagged his spoon at the water's edge and jerked it free, but the thing beelined for his face and THWAP two hooks of the treble were instantly embedded in his eye. He screamed and dropped the rod; I leaped to cut the line so it wouldn't pull his eye out and our father carried him to the car and raced him to SOCO Hospital. In a true miracle, the ER doc backed the hooks out slowly with his bare fingers and somehow it did not collapse. My bother still had two functioning eyes and lived almost another 30 years with a few specks of rust always visible in the white of his left one.

 

A few year later, blues returned to RI in big numbers (they were almost extinct there in the 60's). One of the coolest experiences I ever had was at the aforementioned Coast Guard Beach one chill October Sunday afternoon. A huge pile of bait in the corner with blues chopping them up, and we practically jumped off the wall where it's steep to get down there. The blues were literally bouncing off our legs in the wave wash and I caught my first 5 fish without ever opening the bail of my Penn 704; just slapped the Creek Chub Striper Strike down in front of the choppers a rod's length away and fought 'em from there. Helluva memory as a 15 year old.

 

About then my folks decided they also loved Rhody and after a search they bought a small house in Bonnet Shores. It took most of their money but they saw it as an investment and we spent countless hours rehabbing the place over about two years. We'd rent to URI students to help make the nut, and I remember falling in hopeless unrequited love with one honey-haired co-ed, two years older than me and way outta my league. Probably still would be today.

 

Work took me away for most of the next twenty or so years but in the late 90's I started coming back here and there. The fishing wasn't always great but the old Murat rod still could fling a plug. My younger brother passed away in 2000 and I inherited all of his gear; he'd upgraded to some Fenwicks and St. Croix rods over the years but I kept taking "Old Gold" most of the time. In 2006 I got a kayak and finally had the chance to get out a bit farther when time, tide and weather allowed. I became a dad late in the game in 2008, so I missed a few seasons there as my daughter grew. Raising her still takes most of my time - and it is gladly given - but when I can, I still sneak down to the rocks and the water. 

 

So some might think of me as a tourist, but the truth is, this is a place where I really feel at home.

 

Peace, my brothers.

Edited by thermoklein

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37 mins ago, thermoklein said:

 I live near Northampton MA. About 45 min to Hartford, another hour to most SE CT access points. Slightly closer than Row Die Land, but my heart belongs to ‘Gansett.

In tough and/or super crowded times, you have to let go of your love of 'Gansett.

 

I've said way too much already. I'll finish with this. As a veteran 2 hour white knuckle rider going back to the Clinton administration, my last secret to share; all our most rewarding results in recent years has been in off track locations or odd times of tide or day.

Think outside the box.

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2 mins ago, thermoklein said:

I am probably not entitled to muse in this fashion, but I sometimes think of myself as a somewhat "honorary Rhode Islander."

 

We started going there in the late 60's when I was a kid because my Dad (a Springfield firefighter) was blown away by the pictures of big bass his pal Tom would show him. This buddy Tom usually fished the Cape, but we found it just too far to visit on my father's limited time schedule (and I don't think 495 even existed then, or wasn't complete maybe?). We found the shore access pretty tight in CT, so RI won somewhat by default. 

 

In those days we initially fished Chucktown, Weekapaug and (to a lesser extent) Quonny a lot, although with not much success. As we slowly learned the game, my father found the structure (and access) of Gansett more appealing, and I came of age hopping gaps on the jetties and falling on my arse a lot along the slippery rocks south of the Coast Guard Beach.

 

One of my greatest fishing memories is being about 13, standing in front of the Pt. Jude light pre-dawn, in a driving rain with the foghorn blasting me every 15 seconds or so. I had my yellow Charlie Murat surf stick and was tossing a big blue/chrome Kastmaster with a dressed single bucktail into the boulder fields and suddenly I hooked something BIG. I fought it hard for a good 10 minutes, never got a good look other than the tail flapped some distance out and it was definitely a bass. In my memory it might've been 40+ but who knows. The hook pulled out a moment after that, and I was left with a great, great memory, which was and still is enough.

 

My late younger brother almost lost an eye at Hazard Ave. a couple of years later when we were casting for the then-plentiful mackerel with light spinning rods. He snagged his spoon at the water's edge and jerked it free, but the thing beelined for his face and THWAP two hooks of the treble were instantly embedded in his eye. He screamed and dropped the rod; I leapt to cut the line so it wouldn't pull his eye out and our father carried him to the car and raced him to SOCO Hospital. In a true miracle, the doc backed the hooks out slowly and it did not collapse. My bother still had two functioning eyes and lived almost another 30 years with a few specks of rust always visible in the white of his left one.

 

A few year later, blues returned to RI in big numbers (they were almost extinct there in the 60's). One of the coolest experiences I ever had was at the aforementioned Coast Guard Beach one chill October Sunday afternoon. A huge pile of bait in the corner with blues chopping them up, and we practically jumped off the wall where it's steep to get down there. The blues were literally bouncing off our legs in the wave wash and I caught my first 5 fish without ever opening the bail of my Penn 704; just slapped the Creek Chub Striper Strike down in front of the choppers a rod's length away and fought 'em from there. Helluva memory as a 15 year old.

 

About then my folks decided they also loved Rhody and after a search they bought a small house in Bonnet Shores. It took most of their money but they saw it as an investment and we spent countless hours rehabbing the place over about two years. We'd rent to URI students to help make the nut, and I remember falling in hopeless unrequited love with one honey-haired co-ed, two years older than me and way outta my league. Probably still would be today.

 

Work took me away for most of the next twenty or so years but in the late 90's I started coming back here and there. The fishing wasn't always great but the old Murat rod still could fling a plug. My younger brother passed away in 2000 and I inherited all of his gear; he'd upgraded to some Fenwicks and St. Croix rods over the years but I kept taking "Old Gold" most of the time. In 2006 I got a kayak and finally had the chance to get out a bit farther when time, tide and weather allowed. I became a dad late in the game in 2008, so I missed a few seasons there as my daughter grew. Raising her still takes most of my time - and it is gladly given - but when I can, I still sneak down to the rocks and the water whenever I can. 

 

So some might think of me as a tourist, but the truth is, this is a place where I really feel at home.

 

Peace, my brothers.

Damn dude! You and your dad and me and my dad crossed tourist paths for the past 40 years.

My dad was less adventurous about bringing us surf casting but we spent a week every summer on Ninnigrit, crabing, claming, catching fluke and blackbacks and scup and all manner of cool critters. And billions of fat 12 inch snapper blues.

Many day trips to the beach or duck hunting or scalloping in winter.

I can't afford cottages for a week but Ive been taking my boys since the 90s. They all grew up on the jetty.

 

A pair of honorary Rhode island pink hat tourists.:howdy:

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Cool story thermoklein, my Dad was a firefighter too and he taught me to fish when I was a kid.

They had the fireman schedule, so it always amazed the nuns when I would be out sick and then show up in the afternoon with some blues or mackerel for them.

Good memories.

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6 mins ago, Billybob said:

Cool story thermoklein, my Dad was a firefighter too and he taught me to fish when I was a kid.

They had the fireman schedule, so it always amazed the nuns when I would be out sick and then show up in the afternoon with some blues or mackerel for them.

Good memories.

 Yup, the sched I remember two days on, two nights on, then three days off, advancing 24 hours each week. And I did 12 years of parochial school too, though our nuns were way too mean to ever get any fish.

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