Up and down the east bank of the Penobscot River, anglers vie for prime position for the feeding frenzy they hope will follow.

Some carefully skewer bloodworms onto oversized hooks … check their sliding sinker rigs … let their fishing rods flex … then fling their tackle toward the incoming tidal water.

Others scramble across the rocks, looking for the perfect rod-holding hole between the stones that help hold the mighty river at bay.

And at a picnic table a few yards away, Bob Cameron sits, smiles, and enjoys the scene.

Cameron isn’t fishing tonight. The crutches leaning against the table offer a silent explanation. A leg injury wouldn’t stop him from fishing, but actually catching – and waddling down over the rocks to the water’s edge in order to release a striped bass? Well, that’s out of the question.

Still, Cameron is there, eager to talk, eager to share stories with the crowd of anglers who filter into the South Brewer park.

For the past three years or so, anglers have flocked to this site on South Main Street, just a well-placed cast or two from Van Raymond’s sporting goods store and just downstream from the Interstate 395 bridge that links Brewer and Bangor.

Before then, not much happened in this tidy little city park.

“I think the fishing was always here,” Cameron says. “It’s just that no one bothered with it, that’s all. Then someone came down here with nothing to do one day and started catching stripers and the word got around.”

You know how that works. Stripers are in. Grab your gear. Don’t tell anyone.

A few years later, this little park has become an urban fishing hot spot that you can’t help but notice. Cars park on both sides of the street, and the parking lot is full. Drive by once, and you’ll wonder. Drive by twice, and you may decide to stop.

Some swear fishing just in front of the culvert works here. Others opt for one end of the 100-yard park or the other. Some stake their claim near a bench. Others bring their own chairs.

Kids can bike over from the neighborhoods that traditionally housed the families that worked at nearby Eastern Fine Paper, or simply “over to Eastern,” if you prefer.

And they do. From Elm Street and Brewer Street. From up on Wiswell Road. From all over.

What was a secret no longer is. Now, it’s more than that.

“Now, it’s a yearly thing,” says Cameron, who works over to Eastern. “I know some of the guys where I work really look forward to it every spring, because it’s not just a fishing experience, it’s a social experience, too.”

Anglers share bait … and advice … and stories.

“In general, people are pretty good,” Cameron says. “It’s pretty social. It’s like a fair a day down here, for the most part.”

No, this place is no longer a secret. Just walk across the street and talk to the folks at Van Raymond’s. They’ll tell you.

Van Raymond Outfitter sells bloodworms, you see. They’ve done so for the past three seasons. Before that, prospective striper anglers had to drive to Orland or Holden to get their bait of choice.

Not any more.

And the bloodworm business (as you may guess after counting fishing rods in the park) is booming.

“This year has been unbelievable,” says Jim Snow, the fishing department manager at Van Raymond’s.

“We sold 105 dozen in a day. In a week, we sold 300 dozen.”

Snow is a fly-fishing devotee who has watched as a saltwater fishery emerged, virtually under his nose.

He thinks the I-395 bridge, which was constructed in the 1980s, may have diverted some of the river’s flow toward the Brewer bank and made the park an attractive place to fish from shore.

Others may debate that. Either way, a fact remains: The stripers are in. They have been all month. And they’ll be here for a few weeks more … until the water warms, and they head back down river.

Until then, people will be here, each time the tide begins to rise.

For a couple hours on either side of high tide, they’ll fish from shore. For four-hour stretches, the cars and trucks arrive, and anglers get out.

Anglers like Doug Michaud of Brewer. And like Mato, Michaud’s pal.

“He’s a great fishing partner,” Michaud says, patting the friendly 7-year-old dog on the head. “He never complains. Every time I want to go, he wants to go.”

For Michaud, that’s a lot of “wanting to go.”

Every day, each high tide, he fishes … somewhere.

If you have a question about stripers, Michaud has your answer. If you want to discuss fishing ethics, he’ll talk your ear off.

And ever since he first hooked a striper – a 371/2-inch monster he caught a few years back on a trip to southern Maine – he has felt the tidal pull himself.

“Once I got that bug inside of me – a 371/2-inch fish, the first one – I was hooked,” he says, turning to check his rod for a tell-tale twitch.

Around him, anglers do the same. Some catch fish. Others chat or relax.

The stripers are in. Haven’t you heard?

Around here, they have. Around here, it’s just another day in the park.

For several years, illegally introduced fish have been “bucket stocked” in the state’s lakes and ponds while wardens, conservationists, and anglers wondered exactly what could be done about the problem.

One basic fact remained, and proved thorny: Proving the illegal introduction was nearly impossible.

As of Monday, our state’s wildlife law enforcement agency has another tool at its disposal, thanks to a law signed by Gov. John E. Baldacci.

The legislation – L.D. 1635 – states that any legal fish, except baitfish and smelts, which are taken from inland waters shall be immediately released alive into the waters, or shall be killed at once. Failing to do so results in a Class E criminal violation and violators face a mandatory revocation of their fishing license.

In addition, the law makes it a criminal violation to possess live fish for stocking, breeding or advertising purposes without a permit, and nobody will be allowed to introduce fish into inland waters without a permit. Penalties would include a mandatory license suspension and a fine of between $1,000 and $10,000.

According to the Department of Inland Fisheries and Wildlife, those steps come not a moment too soon.

At Long Pond in Belgrade, for instance, where pike were illegally introduced, the annual trap-net catches of salmon by biologists has dropped from a norm of 50 or more fish to zero in 2001.

The suspected reason: Salmon are becoming pike snacks. Three of the four salmon that were successfully trap-netted in 2000 bore the scars of pike attacks, the DIF&W says.

Perhaps best of all: The new law was passed as “emergency legislation,” and is already in effect.

You may remember that back in March, the NEWS ran a promotion in conjunction with the Eastern Maine Sportsman’s Show. We – in a cooperative effort with Greenville-based guide Dan Legere – gave away a drift boat fishing trip on the East Outlet of the Kennebec River to a lucky angler.

The winner was Mike Horvers of Milford.

Well, Sunday’s the lucky day for Horvers (and me, since I’ll be accompanying him and Legere on the fly-fishing-only trip). We’ll spend the entire day floating the East Outlet, and I’m sure Legere -proprietor of Maine Guide Fly Shop – will put us on top of plenty of fish.

What we do after that? Well, that remains to be seen … but it also explains why we call our chosen pastime “fishing,” instead of “catching.”

Reports trickling in from the Greenville area indicate that fishing has been pretty good up that way, so I’m confident we’ll have a great day.

I plan to take notes, and I’ll share details of the trip with you sometime next week. Of course, if the fish are biting nonstop, it may take a bit of willpower in order to put the fly rod aside and jot down a few thoughts … but I’ll give it my best shot.

Have a great weekend … stay cool … and do yourself a favor: Take a kid fishing. They’ll be happy you did, and you’ll end up with memories you’ll cherish.

John Holyoke can be reached at jholyoke@bangordailynews.net or by calling 990-8214 or 1-800-310-8600.