A Spring Awakening in Buzzards Bay: Weekend Fishing Report

There's something sacred about a 3:30 AM wake-up call for a fisherman. The house sits in perfect stillness—a rare commodity when you have both a wife, a baby, a dog and a cat under the same roof. This morning was no different as I tiptoed around in the dark, careful not to make the rookie mistake of wearing my "swishy" Grundéns bibs indoors. (Those of you with sleeping spouses know exactly what I'm talking about—nothing kills a fishing trip faster than waking your significant other at an ungodly hour.)

My pre-trip routine has become something of a well-rehearsed ballet: coffee set to brew the night before, camera gear prepped for underwater footage, and mental preparation for my first tautog trip of the 2025 season. After gently petting the cat and dog back to sleep—the only witnesses to my early-morning escape—I slipped out into the darkness with the anticipation of tight lines ahead.

Delayed but Not Denied: Tautog Season Arrives

Just a week ago, the situation looked bleak. Our scheduled April 26th start to the My Fishing Cape Cod group trip season faced two significant obstacles: tautog hadn't arrived in numbers, and the wind was howling with the kind of determination that keeps prudent captains at the dock. I'd reluctantly rescheduled as many trips as possible to this weekend and next.

Then the reports started trickling in through the My Fishing Cape Cod members forum—those invaluable first-hand accounts from fellow anglers that can save you hours of fruitless searching. Tautog had arrived! What a difference a few days can make in the fishing world. Yesterday's Friday trip confirmed it with excellent results, and today we would see if the fishing gods would continue to smile upon us.

The Rendezvous at Taylor Point

By 4:15 AM, I was on the road to Taylor Point Marina in Bourne, where we'd scheduled a 5:00 AM meetup with Captain Cullen Lundholm of Cape Star Charters.

Cullen's early start strategy wasn't just about maximizing fishing time—it was tactical. Saturday mornings on popular tautog grounds can turn into a nautical version of musical chairs, and Cullen had no intention of losing our spot to another early riser.

When I arrived, most of our crew was already there: Darren Jacobs, Ted Sectish, Robert Gartside, David Coumou, and Jeff Koto. Some familiar faces, some new fishing companions, but all united by the common thread of My Fishing Cape Cod membership and the unmistakable excitement of the season's first saltwater outing.

For most onboard, this would be their inaugural saltwater venture of 2025, though Jeff had recently returned from tangling with tarpon and snook in Florida's warmer waters. The camaraderie was instant—one of the underrated benefits of our group trips. You arrive as individual anglers and depart as friends, with shared stories and experiences that often extend well beyond a single day on the water.

Navigating Buzzards Bay Chop

Right on schedule a bit before 5:00 AM, Cullen arrived, launched his vessel without a hitch, and we were underway into the pre-dawn darkness. The morning air carried that distinctive early spring chill that penetrates layers, especially when combined with the steady breeze that ruffled Buzzards Bay's surface. Still, we counted ourselves lucky—yesterday's group had endured a downpour that would have tested even the most water-resistant gear.

As we pushed south into Buzzards Bay, we faced that classic coastal New England challenge—current running against wind. Any seasoned Buzzards Bay angler knows that when a south running current meets a wind blowing to the north, the resulting chop can turn a pleasant outing into a white-knuckle experience, particularly around Hog Island channel.

Thankfully, Cullen's 33-foot center console handled the conditions admirably, and his destination promised more sheltered waters. That's the beauty of Buzzards Bay—its diverse structure offers options. While the grounds near Cleveland Light might offer prime fishing, they'd be nearly unfishable in these conditions. Instead, the scattered rocky areas that dot both shorelines from Bourne to Falmouth and Wareham to Mattapoisett provide reliable alternatives when Mother Nature doesn't cooperate.

The Anchor Dance

Setting up on a productive tautog spot requires precision that borders on obsession. Cullen reset the anchor several times, seeking that perfect position where our baits would drift directly over the structure below.

With current fighting wind, the boat swung unpredictably, sometimes positioning us perfectly over the sweet spot, other times drifting us just beyond the strike zone.

For the uninitiated, tautog (also known as blackfish) are structure-oriented creatures with remarkably specific habitat preferences. Find the right rock pile, and you'll find fish. Miss it by ten feet, and you might as well be fishing in a desert.

Tautog Tactics 101

If you've never targeted tautog before (and judging by our forum activity, many My Fishing Cape Cod members are just discovering this spring fishery), the technique is refreshingly straightforward yet requires finesse. The weapon of choice? A Joe Baggs Tog-Zilla jig tipped with green crab—an invasive species that makes excellent bait.

For those new to the tautog game, My Fishing Cape Cod offers numerous resources on both tackle selection and even guides for catching your own green crabs. Of course, local tackle shops like Maco's in Buzzards Bay also stock these essential baits throughout the season.

The presentation isn't complicated: drop straight to the bottom, maintain contact with your jig, and when you feel that distinctive tap-tap—set the hook with authority. These fish have mouths like steel traps designed for crushing barnacles and crabs, so half-hearted hooksets need not apply.