Everything is happening all at once at this time of year, really. I've been out here and there after whatever is most appealing to me that day. Today I was out salmon fishing, which has the biggest time limit as, at least in the Shetucket, the salmon seem to get weird right when the stocked trout go in. I had four grabs, one of which resulted in a break-off (don't let those wind knots go unchecked!). All took light colored flies: one a white bugger, the other three a white and black Sunray Shadow.  There's a big rain event coming so it'll likely be just this week and then done. If we're lucky and they hold off the trout stocking, maybe when it drops back down I'll open up a few days to clients. 

Suckers are on the move, and I've been targeting them when time avails. They're exceptionally easy at this time of year, very difficult in others. If you're interested in learning to target these tricky, hard fighting, and often large native fish, perhaps even looking to get a trophy fish pin or even beat a length record, the next three weeks are prime. Another often overlooked native is also exceptionally active right now. This is perhaps the best time of year to target very large chain pickerel, and I'll take clients for them as well. These are short windows for the big, big fish, so if you're looking for one don't wait.

Of course the truck trout are being dumped around the state now, much to my... eh, I'll leave the complaining for another day. You all know how I feel about hatchery trout as a fisheries management strategy and ecological problem anyway (if you don't you certainly will eventually). But they're here so we may as well stick some fur and feathers in their faces. The mouse bite is happening. Some years it starts in February. I'm talking about the daylight mouse bite, not the night bite... but that doesn't mean night fishing isn't going now too. It is, but it's focused on streamers and wet flies. However you're interested in targeting trout, be it at night, in daylight, on dries, on nymphs, on streamers, on mice, on wets... you name it, I'll do my best to put you on them. If I don't feel I'm the guy for what you're looking for I'm sure I know someone that is. 

 As water temperatures plummet in November, fish are both on the move and slowing down. They are on the move because the need to be in very different water for the winter than they were just in all summer, and slowing down because as cold blooded animals their metabolism slows when it gets cold. This results in some interesting challenges for an angler trying to catch these fish. It can also create some great fishing, because the fish's feeding drive may be just a bit slower but they often pile up in staging areas and then in their wintering holes. 

The fish species I'm really talking about here are fallfish, bass, sunfish, and perch. The late fall and early spring transitional period are, quite honestly, some of the best time windows I've found for loading up large numbers of these fish and often some trophy sized specimens. This year I was presented with the challenge of finding these fish in staging areas on new water, the same general area I've fished all summer in Rhode Island for carp. Because I'd been so focused on carp, I let a lot slide and missed chances to better figure out bites with some other species. Come November, catching would be more difficult simply because fish would be in fewer places and actively feeding less often. 

I knew the sorts of spots that should be holding fish though from past experience on other watersheds. I used google maps and pinned every spot that looked like it had potential, from in-flowing creeks and canals to backwaters and large eddies. Some would clearly be difficult to access, so I started out with the one closest to home that I knew would be publicly accessible. I fished it first in low pressure during a big storm, with a simple "float n' fly" tactic. My leader was 8 feet long, tapered to 0x, with a small Thingamabobber and a micro streamer. Often, when water temperatures are falling, any retrieve is too much retrieve. Think effective ice fishing tactics: you want a fly to be basically in place, maybe with a little bit of jigging action, but barely moving horizontally at all. 

I hit it right with the first spot, which was excellent. It wasn't crazy. The fish were neither huge nor especially numerous, but they were there and I could catch them; that's half the battle. 

Over the next week or two I poked around new spots and revisited the first with mixed results. For a while, that first place seemed incredibly consistent until in one 24 window it went from fantastic, with a three perch and ten bluegill outing being followed the very next afternoon by a complete skunking. All that changed in that time frame was a three inch river drop and a 2 degree temperature drop. That's often all it takes for fish to move on from a staging area to a wintering hole.








Inevitably these spots started to falter to as the temperature dropped even further. I've now shifted focus to other fisheries anyway, but when I get back to this river I'll need to learn another set of conditions entirely. It'll continue to be an interesting challenge. 

 It had just started to get properly cold in mid January when Garth and I went looking for our first stripers of the year. It was too cold, as it turned out- the spot was frozen over. In a desperate bid to catch something, I suggested we visit a productive winter panfish spot I’d been told about but had never fished. That turned out to be frozen too, so much so a lot of it seemed walkable. We didn’t bother testing it though, this little cove was criss-crossed by docks that allowed us to fish it without actually getting on the ice. We only had fly rods but both of us managed to get yellow perch. 

Two days later, I returned, this time with Noah. We had the right gear and were hopeful that the fish would be on. They were, both of us were promptly catching panfish. I was using a tungsten jig and switching back and forth between the Eurotacke Eurogrub Jr. in white and Gammascud in chartreuse. Bias aside (I worked for Eurotackle and remain friends with the owner), these plastics hammer fish. They’ll go toe-to-toe with spikes a lot of the time and often enough even out-fish them. I fished some small tungsten bead nymphs as well.

Yellow perch dominated, followed in abundance by bluegills, pumpkinseeds, and crappie. I also got a small golden shiner. The native pumpkinseeds were gorgeous specimens. They weren't big but they also weren't tiny. Pumpkinseeds are a stunning and underappreciated fish locally. Their colors often rival those of wild trout. Their patterns and depth of color vary drastically from fish to fish. Unfortunately, overcrowding and hybridization with bluegills keeps pumpkinseed numbers relatively low in waters they would have historically been the dominant sunfish. 

Ice fishing has been very good for me. Not only has it allowed me to stay out on the water on days I wouldn't want to fly fish but it has opened up new learning opportunities. It has allowed me another window into fish behavior. In any case where it is possible to fly fish (or at least closely approximate it), that's what I'll do. If not, I'm still going to fish. I want to learn as much as I can. That's what this is all about for me. 

 Every year in my home lake, hundreds if not thousands of perch congregate in the only two major feeder streams- right inside the mouths. Both white perch and yellow perch are represented, though this behavior seems to have a few different causes. First and foremost is the urge for fish to seek warmer and more oxygen rich water in the winter, especially in an oxygen deficient lake like this one. Secondly, this appears to be some sort of pre-spawn behavior. A lot of the male white perch I’ve caught during this schooling behavior expel milt. What it certainly isn’t is a feeding behavior; in fact most of the fish in the school largely ignore anything offered to them. Though the percentage of willing eaters is typically low, there are so many fish it doesn’t matter. It isn’t hard some days to catch more than 100 perch.

Massive perch schools aren’t uncommon in the Northeast in the winter, nor is catching loads of them in a short outing. But what makes this mega-school so unusual is its presence in an enclosed, shallow creek. You can see the perch schooled -sometimes certainly numbered in the thousands. The fish are packed as tightly as any menhaden school I’ve ever seen. Though certainly not natural, as the body of water isn’t natural and the white perch weren’t in the system even before it was dammed, it is pretty wild to observe.

It has also resulted in some interesting animal observations. I’ve seen mink taking advantage of the easy meal on a number of occasions. More unusually, Noah, his dad, and now I have seen mallard ducks eating, with some difficulty, smaller, live perch that they somehow manage to catch out of the school. Though mallards seem fairly benign and unlikely to predate animals any larger than aquatic insects, they’ve actually been documented hunting, killing, and eating small birds. This is something I’d never have known had observing mallards eating live perch not piqued my curiosity. This is one of the reasons I love fishing so much. Done with a curious eye, it is a path to many unusual and surprising truths. 

Another unusual phenomenon spurred on by these dense schools is mid-winter topwater bites. The perch schools are so densely packed that many of the fish are pushed to the surface. With just inches from the fish’s eyes to the surface of the water, they can’t help but notice a twitched dry fly. I catch some of these fish every year on dry flies. It makes for a fun little anomalous winter bite. 

Noah and I spent a lot of time over the years watching these winter perch mega-schools. Most other winter fish gatherings happen on a scale too big for easy observation. Having this small water situation right by our houses was like Noah and I being able to experiment with winter fish behavior in a lab. It’s been a very cool experience.

Perch might be the most reliable fish in the winter in CT. I really enjoy fishing for big fat yellow perch an abundant white perch where they stack up to overwinter. The biomass can be truly spectacular, with fish at times stacked from top to bottom of the water column. There are a variety of reasons why perch will stack up in certain areas in the winter ranging from escaping dirty water to staging to spawn, but whatever the reason, when you find one perch anytime between early December and late March, it is safe to assume there are hundreds more there. But as fun as it is to catch hundreds of perch and as pretty as they are, perhaps the best thing about finding where perch are stacked up in the winter is that they taste really really good. Eating fish is, in my opinion, an important part of fishing. There is no way to avoid killing fish, even if you are completely catch and release, barbless hooks only, never handling fish for a significant length of time... killing is an unavoidable result of the act of fishing. As such, I believe it is important for every angler to hold a beautiful, living fish in their hand and then take its life. Nobody should completely enjoy the act of killing, as being at least a little uncomfortable with it will make a more ethical angler. Killing shouldn't be glorified, the animal should be glorified, in my opinion. But if you just can't bring yourself to kill a fish, you may want to reconsider ever sticking a hook in one again. A lot of my fishing this winter is going to involve killing fish, and though I don't enjoy the process, I'm very proud of the fact that I'm able to provide meat by my own means. There is little better meat in southern New England freshwater than perch.




Until next time.

Facts:

-Noah and I can't find big anadromous white perch to save our lives. This is year 2, still not working out for us at all.

- Carp are still smarter than me.

- I don't like fishing the Farmington under bluebird skies with mid 30's water temps and a weekend's worth of sore lipped trout.

Late winter and early spring is almost certainly the best time to target big perch, whether they be yellow perch (Perca flavescens) or white perch (Morone americana). The second is a temperate bass, not a perch. People really play with terminology when it comes to fish names. Bass and perch in particular. But I digress... this is the time of year when big perch stack up on warm, deep flats near the places they will spawn. Find them, put flies or jigs over them, and they will hit the deck in serious numbers. Rick and I found them yesterday after a sketchy run dodging logs in the main river and finding the magic depth change. No 15 inch white perch, but the yellow perch we caught were fat, strong, and eager. We actually had a couple of them jump for us, which I have never had yellow perch do before.






Perch are pretty, perch are good fighters, and you know what... perch are tasty. So we put some in the box. I went home with a good bunch of fish to make dinner for three. Fresh fish, harvested with respect.

Perch harvesting has been done in this piece of water for years and for a while it was extremely destructive. Barrels of fish, mostly white perch, were pulled from the river. Those days, fortunately, are gone and the decreased number of white perch resulted in the end of the commercial fishery in all but one small tributary.


Some anglers like to share photos of their fish in the well, laid out on the ice or the cutting board. I can't personally appreciate photos like that. Fish are beautiful alive. Photograph them then.





My fingers are crossed that the next outing in this water will produce a good number of big anadromous white perch. The run here never happened at all last year, the reason why is not yet understood. Those, and whatever big yellows I catch, will be swimming away after the encounter.