Big Bass in the Fog | May 21 Fishing Report

I awoke this morning to the blasts of the fog horn. My plan was to fish an estuary down Cape, however the dense fog made me think twice. The conditions were perfect for top water plugging boulder fields, so I called an audible and headed to one of my favorite shore fishing spots on all of Cape Cod.

At 4AM I grabbed a lucky blueberry muffin and iced coffee from Dunkin Donuts, and departed down route 28. Not only would conditions be perfect for big stripers in skinny water, but the tide would be perfect too. I expected the current to be moving at a brisk pace through the boulders, which was beyond ideal.

There was not a soul in sight as I pulled into the gravel parking lot. The only sound was that of a few sea birds and a large ship blasting its fog horn somewhere off in the distance. I had the place all to myself.

To get to the spot I had to walk along the shoreline, past huge rocks and boulders, one of which is the size of a small bus. There was a slight chop rolling in towards shore - left over waves from yesterday's windy conditions. I felt like the incoming tide, coupled with a light onshore breeze, would only increase my chances of finding action.

As I entered the water and began wading towards a rocky outcropping, I heard a splash and turned just in time to see a large fish bolt from out behind a boulder. I had spooked the fish, which had been cruising in a mere six inches of water. Based on the swirl I knew it had to be a large bass. My heart rate had increased and I could feel the instant shot of adrenaline course through my blood stream.

A couple seconds later my pencil popper was flying through the fog. The plug landed somewhere in the mist as I began a slow but steady retrieve. Finally the plug came into sight about 25 yards from shore. The pencil was dancing back and forth, from the left to the right, beckoning to be demolished, when I noticed a slight swirl just beyond the lure.

An instant later a bass came hurdling at the plug and launched itself straight clear of the water. It hung for a moment in midair before crashing back down on top of the popper. The bass hit the plug so hard I swear you could of heard the slap all the way from Nantucket.

Somehow, despite the vicious strike, I was unable to get a hook set. Just as quickly as the bass appeared he was gone. I was disappointed  but happy to know that there were indeed big fish in the area.

I fired another cast right back into the same spot and began another slow, methodical retrieve. I anxiously awaited another bite as the plug appeared out of the fog. I kept the retrieve going right up to the rock directly in front of me, but was unable to elicit another strike.

My third cast of the morning landed just to the left of a big boulder sitting roughly 50 yards offshore. I could just barely see the pencil popper in the light of the false down as the plug lightly slapped the surface. Nothing happened for the first 20 feet of the retrieve as the plug rounded another boulder and passed by a patch of sea weed.

Then, without warning, a big bass crushed the pencil popper with a huge slap and sent shots of whitewater flying into the sky. Instantly I felt weight on my rod so I leaned back and set the hook into the jaw of a very strong fish. My rod doubled down and line quickly began peeling from my reel.

I immediately knew this was my largest striped bass of the season. I could feel the heavy weight of the fish as she dug for the rocks and continued pulling line. My only choice was to tighten the drag and use brute force to pull the bass away from the barnacle laden boulders.