County angler enjoys hooking big-city stripers Bass in Casco Bay a challenge

A vast array of angling and hunting opportunities are afforded sportsmen in the northern half of the Pine Tree State, and fish and game populations are flourishing for the most part. Regional outdoorsmen take full advantage of this variety of cast and blast challenges close to home throughout the Crown of Maine, but occasionally it’s necessary to travel south to pursue certain fish and game animals. Over the last decade an increasing number of north country nimrods trek downstate and toward the coast to gun for wild turkey and sea ducks as well as to take full advantage of more doe permits and a denser deer population.

As if I wasn’t already making enough hunting trips down south, a couple of years ago I got exposed to striped bass fishing on the ocean and sea-run waterways. Last summer my focus narrowed to casting flies and top-water baits for stripers, and my level of enjoyment and gratification skyrocketed. Unfortunately, my desire, some might even say addiction, to hook and do battle with these hard surging, tough fighting, and acrobatic leaping salt-water cousins to a small mouth increased proportionally.

Stalking stripers

Word of my compulsion got around and earlier this summer I received an e-mail from a friend of a friend who just happened to be a striper fishing guide. Captain Tim Rafford works out of Yarmouth fishing the Royal River and around and about the islands of Casco Bay. He had read my June article on sight fishing for Florida tarpon and asked if I’d like to try the same approach for striped bass. He hooked me with the first cast, and I got on the phone to set up a date and get more info.

Rafford has run Calendar Island Guide Service for 10 years, and stockpiled quite a clientele from near and far. Aug. 6 was his first open date, so I locked it in and fished for further details about his modus operandi. Tim uses an 18-foot flats boat with a poling platform. Anglers stand in the bow, rod ready, fly line coiled at their feet. He poles the shoreline and scans for resting or feeding striped bass, and then directs the angler into placing a fly, a top-water bait for spin casting fishermen, near the selected fish. Since most striper fishing involves blind casting and hoping your offering crosses paths with a taking fish, this spot-and-cast agenda really piqued my interest. Just like shallow water tarpon and bonefish angling, sight fishing combines aspects of hunting and fishing to locate, entice and bag a specific finned quarry.

Since early spring, Maine’s weather has been unpredictable, and for outdoorsmen, uncooperative for the most part. Thus far this season I’ve had two Atlantic salmon outings, a bass fishing weekend and a remote lake trout trip adversely affect by heavy rain and unusually cold conditions. I don’t know why I should have been surprised when after a sunny, balmy 85-degree Friday, Saturday dawned overcast, cold and dreary. As far as I was concerned it could have been blowing a gale with golf-ball size hail, I was still going striper fishing.

Buddy Horr, my longtime hunting partner, jumped at the chance to go striper fishing and left East Holden at 2 a.m. for the drive to the Portland hotel where I was staying . When Buddy and I were putting my fishing rods and dry bag of extra gear into his car at 4:30 a.m., the temperature hovered at a brisk 55 degrees. Less than 20 minutes later we were standing on a T- dock in Yarmouth harbor shaking hands with Captain Tim in the pre-dawn darkness. His flats boat was tied off and ready to motor, with three fly rods of various weights rigged and in one rack while spinning rods for Buddy, who doesn’t fish fly, were secured in the opposite holder.

As a few pink fingers of dawn poked their way through the dense cloud cover, our trio spotted the top-water swirls of stripers surface feeding less than 100 yards from the wharf. By the time we boarded and Tim stealthily poled us within casting distance only the rare fish showed. I got to work with a slender white fly on an intermediate sinking line, while Buddy chucked a white plastic bait simulating a small eel. We were blind casting since it was too early and too dark to spot fish yet, but on his third cast Buddy was rewarded with a huge swirl and a heavy pull, but as he put a deep bend in the rod the fish spit the bait.

Over the next 10 minutes two stripers swirled and pulled at my fly, but no solid hookup resulted, and Buddy teased up three more bass, but only one took a good hold, and that was off within 30 seconds. Soon no fish were showing at all, so Tim decided it was time to head for bluer pastures. We motored along the Royal River and out into Casco Bay, where a certain sand bar stretching out from a rock ledge was always productive on a going tide, according to our guide.

The bar’s open

Fishing salt water tributaries and estuaries for striped bass is simple, it’s finding and catching fish day after day that requires dedication, determination and a keen awareness of weather, wind and tides. Captain Tim motored into position above a spot of land near a ledge and climbed onto the meager confines of the four-foot high poling platform with his 20-foot fiberglass push pole. The elevated stand and a good set of polarized sunglasses are crucial to spotting feeding or laid-up stripers.

I took up a position on the flat, slightly elevated bow deck and Buddy got into casting position on the stern. A north wind was blowing, which Tim felt boded ill for consistent action, and the turbulent tide against wind action was making the water murky, and that’s deadly to sight fishing. To top matters off, out in the open the wind got a rake at us with its 60-degree breath. Buddy dawned a sweatshirt and jacket while I opted for a 3/4 length Gore-Tex rain parka.

On the first pass my fly was unproductive as the tide and push pole guided our course along the island’s edge. Bud got a solid strike and boated a feisty 18-inch schoolie after two jumps and a due amount of thrashing and splashing. After reaching a certain point each run, Tim moved the boat back up current and we would make another drift. Every float over the bar was at a varied distance from shore, each one determined by the fast dropping tide. Three more drifts yielded two more strikes and one more decent-sized striper in the boat for Bud.

Despite casting and retrieving continuously over the very same water, and in front of Buddy no less, my fly was treated with total disdain. Devoted as I am to fly fishing, I’m no martyr, so as we moved to another hot spot I stowed the fly rod and unlimbered a lightweight 7 foot spinning outfit. Later, at two other locations I would dig out the fly rod again and offer different patterns, but whether it was the wind, the dingy water or the lack of sun, my flies were not on the current striper menu.

A honey hole

Captain Tim motored us through coves, around islands and under causeways until we came to a stretch of coastline that looked like any other to me. He assured me that there was a deep hole midway along the section that always held fish at the current tide level. It seemed odd to look through the morning haze and view Portland’s high rise skyline in the distance. On the very first pass I hooked a keeper size striper on the second cast, and Buddy got into a bit smaller fish a few seconds later. We played and boated a double, which entails a bit of fancy foot work and some tricky rod handling, yet yielded some great entertainment and excitement.

We had time for four more drifts before the tide bottomed out and drove us elsewhere. Buddy and I put five more bass in the boat, between 17 and 23 inches, including another fun- filled double. Although stripers between 20 and 26 inches and those over 40 inches can be kept, we opted to release all our fish. Properly prepared, a striper filet offers delicious, delicately flavored table fare, and a couple of times a summer I take advantage of this tasty treat.

Throughout the rest of the morning, Tim moved us from spot to spot, and poled us through shallow flats hunting up resting or cruising stripers. Although we cast to some real brutes in the 30- and 40-inch class, none were takers, but they sure got our hearts pumping. Once or twice a week one of Tim’s sports puts one of the trophies in the boat.

We checked out island estates, watched gulls soar, observed ospreys fish and feed, and cast to and caught stripers for six hours. In all, 14 striped bass were caught and released and just as many swirled at flies or were hooked and lost. Pretty fulfilling for a day when the elements conspired against us. You can bet I’ll be joining forces with Tim Rafford again, hopefully when a fly rod is more effective.

If you’re a sportsman and planning on visiting the Portland area for business or pleasure, perhaps there’s time for a full or half day of sight fishing for striped bass. Call Captain Tim Rafford of Calendar Island Guide Service at 207-829-4578 or check out his Web site and trophy photos at trafford@gwi.net. It’s urban-edge angling like you’ve never experienced.

Outdoor feature writer Bill Graves can be reached via e-mail at bgravesoutdoors@ainop.com