A text came through one morning this week, it was from my best friend since 8th grade, Alex. He had some recent intel on a hot striper bite in the Canal with a “backwards tide” for daybreak fishing, meaning the exact opposite of a breaking tide. Skeptical – yet intrigued – I sent out a handful of feeler texts to a few friends that fish at and around the Canal to see if they could confirm the action. The word was that it had been very good with fish from slots to slobs feeding on sand eels, macks and peanuts. There had also been good pushes of bonito running through. That was enough for me to rack up the bike and make only my second Canal run of the 2025 season.
I was excited, but my pessimistic (or perhaps pragmatic) side was telling that the likelihood of striking gold seemed low. The whole drive to the Ditch I was preparing myself to be let down but also hoping for an old-fashioned Canal throwdown. Once I pulled into the lot, my attitude was set just right. I took my time, feeling no urgency to get “down there” to stake out a spot, I let the music play while I geared up and readied my bike. Alex rolled in and after a swapping a few laughs, we headed east from the Railroad Bridge and set up to fish.
I won’t bore you with the details of the fishing, because all of my fears and (intrusive) skeptical thoughts were proven correct. It was a slow pick at best, with scattered hookups by random characters up and down the line, every fish was caught on a jig. I didn’t see anything larger than maybe 15 pounds and between Alex, his cousin Joe and me, I landed the only fish which was probably a slot-sized keeper that I released without removing it from the water.
When the bite is slow like that, it’s hard not to whip your head around to make visual confirmation of the sound of a slipping drag. Down to my right I heard that all-too-familiar Zzzzz-zzz-zzz and my keenly trained (sarcasm) fishing eyes immediately found the bent and bucking rod sticking up from a group of older gentlemen down-tide. After a lengthy battle, I saw the fish splashing against the rocks and watched as a second member of the group assisted with the landing, and he lifted a low-30-inch class striper from the water.
The men gathered around the angler as he unhooked the fish and then walked away, heading back to the lot where his bike was propped, he rummaged around for nearly two minutes before navigating the rocks back down to where the fish lay waiting. He was getting his tape measure. As my turn to cast came in the lineup of jiggers, I didn’t see if the fish was kept or released, but as my jig ticked bottom, I was a little bothered by the whole sequence.
Before anyone gets their hackles up, it had nothing to do with keeping a fish. I am fully in favor of anglers taking a fish for the table, even though I release 99% of the stripers I catch; I think of taking a keeper home as an optional, yet integral, part of the fishing experience and tradition. The part I took issue with was that he was not prepared to keep a fish. In a time when the recreational impact of release mortality has taken center stage in the debates that rage on about the health of the striper stock and whatever regulatory changes we may (or may not) see in 2026, I feel that it is our responsibility as recreational anglers to do everything we can to reduce our personal impacts on the stock. This effort begins and ends with getting any and all fish that will be released, back into the water as quickly as possible to ensure the highest probability of a survival.
If you have to go and find your tape, you should just turn that fish loose because that time spent rummaging is crucial to their survival. If you’re fishing with the intent of taking a fish, do the right thing and keep your tape in your pocket or plug bag.
No matter where you stand on the issues of striper regulations, or the accuracy of MRIP, or the health of the fishery as a whole, you need to understand that the assumed 9% mortality rate exists, at least in part, because our catch-and-release procedures are not up to snuff. And doing something as seemingly insignificant as having your tape ready to go, will go a long way toward reducing your personal impact on the fishery. And, if that were practiced among a greater segment of the angling community, it would only do good things for the stock and the future of striped bass regulations.
Be prepared.
