Long Island Look-See

By Amanda Switzer
Shallow Water Angler
April/May, 2005

When poling and sight fishing, you gotta watch your back. Last summer I was poling a fly fisher and as is my habit, I glanced to the rear. There she was, a 20-pound striper, rummaging for an easy meal in the suspended puffs stirred up by the foot of my push pole.

"Throw behind the boat," I told him. "Just aim close to my pole and don't worry about hitting me," as I crouched as low as possible.

"But I don't see a fish," he responded. "Just get your fly in the water," I shot back.

Unfortunately, his fly and leader hit my pole and the whole works wrapped around it like a tetherball. I tried to untangle the mess without taking my eyes off the bass, which was so engrossed in its feeding that it actually head-butted the pole. Clank! We watched helplessly as it blasted off the flat.

"I had a feeling we were being followed," I said.

Whether you sight fish for stripers, bonefish, permit or redfish, chances are this has happened to you. Thankfully, you can expect to make the vast majority of your casts to stripes that are much more front and center. And front and center is just where flats fishing for stripers is today. Florida-style flats fishing is alive and well at the eastern end of Long Island.

The Lay of the Land
Eastern Long Island's vast bayside shorelines, harbors, estuaries and shoals are prime niches for shallow-water stripers. Rumor has it that Long Island doesn't have "real" flats. Fact is, our flats are very real indeed, though most are long and narrow as opposed to the expansive, endless white sand flats of the Bahamas and Caribbean, for example. Flats similar in scope, though they hold bonefish, permit and tarpon, are found along the Atlantic side of the Florida Keys, and along the oceanside of Miami's Biscayne Bay. Long Island flats are long, thin striper "highways" where you park, either in a skiff or on foot, in hopes of getting a head-on shot at a fat striper. So much for pining for the tropics.

Many Long Island flats have sandy bottoms, while others have a mix of sand, grass and dark rock. Spotting fish over these darker bottoms can be tricky, particularly when the surface is wind-whipped. Some of the creekmouths have built-up deltas inside and outside of the openings, creating flats that are always fishable, regardless of the tide. The smallest flats are simply sandbars where fish stand out over light bottom as they swim through.

As is done in shallow-water fisheries elsewhere, Long Island anglers are able to cheat Mother Nature by "running the tide." This simply means that we can run from flat to flat to sight fish in moving water, or on a particular tide phase throughout the day to increase the odds of staying on feeding stripers.

The majority of Long Island flats are found on the bay side (north) of the island. Though you can sight fish for stripers and bluefish on the Atlantic side, the seas need to be cooperative; anything bigger than a '"rolling pin" sized surf closes the door.

There are natural signposts that tell you that it's time for flats stripers. Osprey return to reclaim their nests. Terns come back in search of small baitfish. Lilacs begin to bloom, as does amelanchier, and that's when I start checking the shoreline flats for fish.

Given a mild winter, baitfish start pouring out of the estuaries sooner than usual. In thes case, stripers start arriving as early as late April, and are lean and hungry. The early fishing starts in western Long Island Sound and them improves farther to the east, in the Gardiners Bay region later in May. Generally, the flats fish well from April to August, with the best months being May and June. Weekdays are the best times to fish because boat traffic's at a minimum. By midsummer, stripers seek cooler waters, so the best flats fishing occurs during low-light conditions. August is a great time to fish the flats because most anglers have shifted their efforts tot he rips and deeper waters where cooler temperatures are found. The flats stripers can be picky during the heat of summer, but you'll have whole stretches of beach flats to yourself.

Fishy Signs
Even an angler without a clue as to where flats are located on Long Island can stumble onto a few by simple heading for a cliff-lined shoreline. Over time, the forces of erosion take sand from the precipice, dumping it at the face, creating a flat.

Your chances of seeing stripers soar on flats that hold other marine life. Baitfish are an excellent sign, but if there's no visible bait, don't be too hasty about picking up and moving because there might be "micro-bait" in the water—stuff that isn't easily detected by the naked eye. Birds flying up and down the shoreline are a positive sign, as are sea robins flushing up shrimp. Oftentimes you'll spot stripers following the sea robins, poaching an easy dinner. (Remember that pushpole-chaser mentioned earlier?)

Of course the seeing and casting part of this game is easier under sunny, blue skies and a light breeze behind our backs, but such conditions are more exception than rule. It can be discouraging when you have booked a few days in the prime of the sight-fishing season and heavy rain, fog or howling winds move in. In this case, anglers normally pull the plug, but many iffy weather days can be salvaged. Under foggy conditions, you can get very close to cruising striped bass; the fish tend to get careless, and must feel less conspicuous, because tails are high in the air and backs even come out of the water as the daring bass press in to extremely skinny shallows looking for goodies.

When faced with a gray day, I simply fan-cast my flies to cover maximum water, being careful to fish around rocks, coves, bars, dropoffs and other structure that normally harbors fish. This blind fishing can be tiring, but sometimes it's the only option, and it is damn food practice for the real thing. I turn to small poppers and Gurglers (popular foam-bodied surface flies) in the backwaters on foggy or cloudy days. They're great prospectors. I pole along within casting distance of the shore and have anglers cast toward the grassy edges, with sloppy, slow pops. THe bass come dashing toward your fly, leaving behind a wake that ends in a crashing heap at the end of your line. A true heart-stopper.

One advantage of gray, overcast skies is that fish have their guard down a bit, and the absence of glare allows you to spot them more easily. Though you won't see fish as readily at a distance, don't fret—by poling quietly, you'll get short shots at stripers and many times actually hook them with your leader in your rodtip. It's a major reflex test. Under these conditions, don't ask your guide or person poling you if a dark form is a fish. There isn't time for that. Always assume it is a fish and cast. No harm done. Remember that fish don't always look like fish in the water. They can look like logs, as I know all too well, and they can look like humps on the bottom. Look for movement. It it moves, it probably breathes, and will probably eat. Stripers move at a steady pace over a shoreline flat. Always pole very slowly, allowing oncoming fish to come to you. Or, if you are wading, stand still and let them swim to you.

On light-colored, sandy bottoms, spotting fish is relatively easy for quite a distance. When you are fishing with a guide, let the guide look for fish out at the perimeter while you look for fish closer in, where the fish seem to materialize before your eyes. Long Island flats are typically spattered with rocks and weed patches that are fishy but rather tricky to sight fish. This is where a trained eye comes in handy. But even after yours of guiding on these flats, I advise my charter customers to cast at anything that remotely looks like a fish, because I have been fooled too many times to count, and, frankly, it gets more and more embarrassing all the time.

If patience isn't your strongest quality, then try casting at the dark spots and coaxing the fish out of the hiding places. This isn't pure sight fishing, but if you happen to see the fish follow your fly and then inhale it, then that half counts, right?

Flashing fish are a gift. When a striper turns on its side, revealing the white part of its belly, it's a cinch to see at a good distance. In this case, a good strong cast and placement of the fly is crucial.

Casting a long fly line and hitting your target is wonderful, but if you don't know what to do beyond this point, you might as well be casting on the lawn. If you make the cast and present the fly with grace, just to fumble around for your fly line while the striper takes and then drops your fly, then all was for nothing. Never let the fly line out of your line hand. While making your final shoot, make a circle with your fingers on your line hand and let the line shoot through smoothly, so at the last moment you can have control of the fly. When you make your cast and the fish changes direction abruptly before your fly touches down, you must pick up all that line and re-cast right away, and this is nearly impossible if your line has been allowed to slacken and sink. This is good advice no matter what species you sight fish for.

Practice making both long and short casts. On the eastern end of Long Island, one flat may be light-colored so you will be able to see for a few hundred feet, and shoot a long cast to a fish. The next flat is rocky and dark, so you will have to make quick, accurate short casts at fish spotted close to the boat at the last minute. I find that the shorter casts are more difficult and sometimes go to short, floating shooting heads to solve that problem. Short leaders can be of help, too, when it comes to loading a fly rod for short casting.

When fishing in very shallow water, movement and noise must be minimized, including excessive fly and line splash-down. Then, leading the fish more than normal may be your only option. Determine where the fish is traveling and present your fly well ahead of it. Let the fish come within five feet or so of your fly, and then simply twitch it with a very short strip of the fly line. You'll know right away if the bass has seen your fly. This technique also works well with off-target casts. Rather than risk picking up the line, waving your rod around and scaring the fish, if you thing the fish might still come over the fly, play it out, and there could be a nice recovery.

After a day of fishing the flats of eastern Long Island, your might ask yourself why you haven't done that before. It's world-class sight fishing, there are seemingly endless flats to pole, and the beauty of the area will amaze. Long Island's waters are blessed with clean, clear cool waters that harbor a healthy striper fishery, and will for as long as we respect it. There's always going to be imbalances in the sight-fishing equation—sometimes no sum, sometimes too much wind, but with sufficient skills, a little knowledge, or the company of a good guide, the Long Island flats are a helluva place to sight-fish.

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