Fishing Reports All I had been hearing for two weeks were how the winter flounder had been doing their best lemming imitation down by the Oyster Creek power plant outflow in Barnegat Bay. Reports of 20 to 40 fish were common, and one report went as high as 70. Now, reports are just reports, but with so many reports saying the same thing, there just HAD to be something going on down there. Once Upon A Time Now I hadn't been winter flounder fishing in years. The last trip I made was maybe 8 or 9 years ago, late in the spring season, down to Meyers hole. We didn't get any winter flounder, but did catch a lot of blowfish. I believe the last winter flounder I caught came out of Quincy Bay, MA, and I was looking forward to finishing junior high. I wasn't even sure I knew how to fish for flounder anymore.

So, here we are years later, and Dad and I decided we'd try and cash in on the winter flattie action. We even got my brother excited enough to go. We stopped in at Betty And Nicks for some bloodworms and clam chum. We triple bagged the clam chum logs; they stunk. How anything that smells like that is a fish attractant, I'll never know.

We also brewed up a concoction that worked very well on our Quincy trips, so we decided to try it here. We filled a 5 gallon bucket with feed grade corn (which had been sitting in the shed since the last Quincy trip...). To that, we added water, so they would sink when we needed them to. We also laced them with a pint of bunker oil. Yum.

Sunday morning we got a late start. Dad was at a wedding the night before, and I stayed out late. We didn't get rolling to the boat until 9:00, and didn't get down to the BB/BI/Power plant area until 10:00-ish. There must have been 100 boats there already. We found a likely looking spot down near the southern end of the fleet, and dropped anchor.

One clam log went in the water in the care of a chum pot, and a few scoopfuls of bunker-flavored corn were released on their own accord. The bunker oil left a slick on the bay that would make a shark chummer jealous.

I set up with a standard, commercially tied flounder rig with a 2 oz. Sinker on one of our lightweight fluke rods. My brother did the same. Dad decided to try a flounder rig with little yellow twister tails, another remnant of the Quincy days. I baited up with a piece of worm and a piece of clam. Everyone else used worms. The rig hit the bottom with 10 feet of line out, I set the reel in gear, and began my wait.

Like I mentioned earlier, I still wasn't sure exactly how to fish for these creatures. I didn't know if I should bounce the rig on the bottom, give it the occasional lift like fluke fishing, or leave it as motionless as possible. I tried the latter technique first.

While I was sitting there trying not to let the swinging boat drag my rig around, I checked out all the other boats. None were bailing fish like the reports had said, but I did see the occasional net go over.

Then my attention was brought back to my own boat with a few quick taps at the end of my line. I was so taken by surprise, I never set the hook. I waited, and 30 seconds later, I felt them again. I set the hook and easily cranked in my first flounder in a long, long time. It measure 12 inches, and took its place in the cooler. It had taken the piece of clam. I replaced both baits and went back to fishing.

Our spirits up, Dad, my brother, and I all paid close attention to our rods. Dad and Jamie both missed fish. After a few minutes, my attention again wandered to the boats around us.

Five-0

I noticed two boats up against each other to the southeast, one center console and one walk-around, and pointed them out to Dad. As we were trying to figure if the center console was the marine police, the two boats broke apart. The center console started making it's way to the north, while the walk-around remained at anchor. We kept looking at the center console, and then turning to talk, and then looking back. I guess we looked suspicious, because the changed course to come say "Hi" to us. I guess we shouldn't have pointed at them either...

Turns out they were not the marine police, but Fish & Game. They wanted to know if we caught anything, to which we responded one. They asked to see it, so Dad took it out of the cooler. The officer took a look at it, and said we could put it away. I asked if he wanted to measure it, and he declined. They bid us farewell and moved on to another boat. I must admit, I was glad to see them out there. That was the first time I was ever checked by them. They have now tied the Coast Guard for complimentary inspections. The marine police still have a score of zero.

One More For the Road

It took a half hour, but I was able to put another flatfish in the boat. This one was 13 inches long, a bit thicker, and fought much harder. We netted it, and, after removing it from the net, the hook that was barely lodged in its side fell out. It looked like this fish hit the top hook, which I subsequently missed it with. However, it seems the bottom hook found a place to stick, just long enough to get the fish in the boat. We added it to the cooler, doubling our count, and one fish short of a meal.

It took another half hour for my brother to become fully disgusted with flounder fishing. He's a big fan of weakfishing, and really does a number on them in the spring. Soaking bait for flounder wasn't his "cup of tea", and he had enough. It wasn't really mine either, but I fell in for the reports. We all decided it was time to call it quits, and went home with our "appetizer" of winter flounder.

Until next week...