Fishing the Dark Side

[Sep]

I can hear, and feel, the fish take to the air less than twenty yards in front of me, but I can't see him. It's too dark. I want to reach up and flip on my headlamp but the rascal just won't stop jumping and I need a hand on both rod and spinning reel to try to keep him on the line. And it's a legitimate concern too, as with each aerial and shake I can distinctly hear the jointed jitterbug rattle in his mouth, a warning signal that my hookset is tenuous. Sure enough, on the fourth or fifth furious launch, my line goes slack, the bug recoils and lands somewhere near my feet, and the bass is gone, sight unseen despite all his flamboyant acrobatics. All goes still and, when my heart stops hammering, I realize that the frogs have started their moonlight songs once again.

********

Yes, I know this is a fly fishing forum and you are a fly fisherman. So what's up with this spinning tackle talk? In truth, I'd also rather be standing in moving water with a fly rod in my hand, but there's so much more to life, and sport, than a singular fixation. If you're a fisherman, an outdoorsman, a sportsman, you love it all and try everything you can to broaden the experience. So fishing spinning tackle on a tree lined bass pond, alone, in the dead of night, isn't another version of fishing the dark side; it's a new and invigorating rush. Trust me. And if that doesn't convince you, try this. Did you go fishing last night? Would you have liked to? I rest my case.

*******

It had been a very long day. The details are not important here, but it had and when I finally got home around 9:00pm, I needed a break. But not the sit on the couch and stare at the idiot box kind of break; I needed a diversion and fishing seemed to be just the ticket, despite the hour. Mary, I'm going down to the pond for a while. I even invited her. She sanely declined, with a chuckle, and good-naturedly sent me on my way with only the slightest hint of an eye roll. (Have I mentioned what a lucky guy I am?).

*******

Now I have enough trouble controlling a fly line on a wide-open river in broad daylight so taking it to a socked-in pond on a dark and potentially stormy night would have been courting disaster. Instead, I reached for my favorite spinning rod, a butt-ugly, 5'6 Shimano Bullwhip Fightin' Rod with medium bass walleye special action, quite possibly 20+ years old and who's origins are sort of murky, involving my wife's ex-father-in-law, my stepsons, 10 years hidden behind the water heater with old hockey sticks and broom handles (the rod, not my stepsons), and rediscovery when we moved here to paradise. It's graphite, but I bet it's an early one, with cracks starting in the thick base from use, though they don't affect the rod, yet. Leaning there with my fly rods, it's a short, plump Bertha among the graceful and willowy Tiffanies and Giselles, but this Bertha has caught more and bigger fish than my whole runway of sexier sticks, combined, so it's my fishing date a lot.

On the end of a 12 lb, braided line, I tied a jet-black, 3/8 ounce, jointed, Arbogast jitterbug. On the surface (pardon the pun), putting a black lure on to fish in the dark seems crazy, but, from the fish's perspective, the dark bait stands out against the light field above, be it moonlight or even the sparse light provided by the stars, better than a light colored lure does. The venerable jitterbug has been around as long as I can remember, the perfect topwater lure for night bassing; slow retrieving, noisy, and riding high enough that unless you drag it over something (or cast it onto the unseen shore) it's not likely to get hung up anywhere. It looks cool too, especially in all black; sort of a Lamborghini sleek bullet, with treble hooks.

I also grabbed my headlamp, stuck a pair of forceps in my back pocket, pulled on a long-sleeved shirt and my tick gators to keep the chiggers at bay, and spritzed on a little Eau de Deet for good measure. Now where were those night vision glasses?

*******

The sky is clear, for the moment, but the moon will not be up for a while so it's still d**n dark. I know this eight acre pond like the back of my hand and it's a good thing because, even with the headlamp, I only semi-successfully avoid the shin-busting blowdowns and ankle and knee wrenching stump holes and feeder ditches, more by memory than by sight. And the deep late summer grasses along the east side don't help. It's a trek, too, as I want to fish the backside, several hundred yards of stumbles from my parked truck. The backside is a half-acre of mudflats and stumps when the pond is low, but prime bass cruising territory when it's high; perfect for night topwater action. On the way I occasionally stop along the deeper east side and cast to spots where I know there's some submerged cover, but that's just foreplay. The real fun awaits in the shallow north end.

*******

I haven't been to the pond in a few weeks. Its bass have been summer lazy, hiding in the central depths, and not much interested in anything I throw their way. The pull of the fly rod has taken me elsewhere and kept me otherwise entertained but I'll always find my way back to the pond; there are lots of largemouths there, and some big ones. This past spring I caught a 8-9 pounder (which is another good story but, since it involves a 7 Texas-rigged purple plastic worm, you fly guys probably aren't interested) and the previous fall I saw a kid pull one out that made my hawg look like an hors-devours. His is probably on a wall somewhere now, but my fish went back into the pond. Hopefully I'll see it again in a pound or two.

The pond is community owned, resident use only, and has a couple of sand beaches that we have created for the kids, but if you avoid the mid-summer days, which for a fisherman is easy to do, it's pretty deserted. I seldom, if ever, see anyone around when I fish and at night I own the place. There are a couple of houses within shouting distance, but the summer-full woods effectively screen them, despite the local deers' best clearing efforts. It's a nice place to spend a quiet evening fishing. Quiet, that is, unless the resident beaver is slapping the water with his broad tail to lay his own claim to the area. Noisy rascal.

*******

My night bass fishing process is to use the headlamp to approach a fishing spot, turn it off as I reach the pond's edge, pause to let these old eyes adjust as much as possible and to visualize, mostly from memory, where the exposed limbs and shoreline are. There's usually a little moonlight, but knowing where the hazards are sure helps in picking them out in the dark. I cast and listen for the splashdown, hopefully in the general direction of my intent, and begin a slow and steady retrieve. Thankfully, the jitterbug gurgles noisily so I know generally where it is and when it's about to hit my rod's tip guide. The fish like that gurgle too.

At night, bass strikes are more sound than anything else, a dull splash or swirl that needs a quick response. You can't always wait until you feel it. And, when hooked, every fish seems to go airborne at night, making the whole process an extreme audio experience; a sensual process, in the very basic sense of the word.

*******

I ended up catching three chunky 12 inchers and lost twice that many to poor hand-ear coordination or to dark, watery high wire acts. It's invigorating out there at night, chasing fish that care not for the time, and really experiencing a beautiful part of the day we tend to ignore. I'd told my wife I'd be home in an hour-and-a-half and I would have been my usual hour late but there was lightning showing beyond the treeline, distant rumbling was starting to be heard, and the stars were steadily being covered by a soft, moist blanket. I kept thinking I felt drops, but it was usually just light spray from my casting. Rain was clearly on the way, though, so I reluctantly picked my way back along the dark east bank, climbed into the truck, and slowly returned the dirt road half-mile to the house as a gentle sprinkle began. The deer alongside the road looked up from their foraging, noted my passing, and wondered what I'd been up to this time.

Sep

Note: I'm new to the forum and look forward to participating here. As an introduction, I offer the above.  I posted it originally in early October on my local fly fishing club's website, thus the defense of the "non-fly" approach. Fly fishermen, like girlfriends, tend to expect exclusivity. Go figure. But a healthy bass on a 4-6wt fly rod is great fun.

[Grey Wolf]

Welcome.

[Tokyo Tony]

Welcome!

Nice story - very well-written   Makes me want to go night fishing...after ice-out  :-/

[fishfordollars]

Welcome

[bilgerat]

Good to have ya here.

Night fishing RULES Been doing it for the better part of twenty years now. Originally I went at night because I worked at night, now I do it after my family obligations are done.

I too know the heartbreak of losing a beast on a jitterbug, mine came years ago. I had been fishing all night and the first light was coming through. I was beat and about to call it a night. Tied on a j bug and tossed it out. Couldn't have reeled it more than five feet and I got smoked !! Had him about 15 feet away and had his head out of the water. You could have dropped a softball down in his mouth, he was that big. Easily would have been my PB. Then a head shake later, that j bug came whizzing by my head about 90 MPH.

That will haunt me the rest of my life.