This topic has always been on my mind, but recently it came into focus in the context of determining what types of information are important to include in a kayak fishing report and how much is not necessary. That discussion revealed another aspect of kayak fishing that separates it from other methods. The other night, while fishing under Ponquogue Bridge on a calm and productive night I was reminded of still another important distinction: the occasional but sudden need to respond to the conditions. This can present itself in the form of a current that the fish has pulled you into (like the rips @ Mtk) or a piling/rocks that the current is pulling you into (like @ Ponquogue Bridge or Orient Point), but suddenly you need to grab the rudder or pedal/paddle your way out of a situation without compromising your positon vis-a-vis the fish you've hooked into. It requires focus on two sets of circumstances and the ability to anticipate how one will affect the other: Can I get this fish landed, or at least to a safer place to work, before it gets into those rocks? Can I pull this fish against this current or do I rush toward it and try to land it quickly before the current carries me too far? If I can land it by chasing it down, where will I end up and will I be able to get back?
We have to adjust our thinking to the conditions. A kayak fisherman, when truly "kayak fishing," is having to make these types of decisions and adjustments all the time, whether fighting fish or not, because we're at the mercy of the elements to a much greater extent than other anglers.
How this relates: That night, during my successful venture to the bridge, I found myself trying to unhook a fish that was draped across my lap, as the current pulled me toward the pilings. This lure had two treble hooks and was particularly stubborn as I struggled to extricate it.* Pedaling (in my case, because I have a Hobie) would surely result in a dorsal spine piercing my dry pants or a hook in my knee, so I remained focused on separating the fish from my tackle. Nearing a "6-pack" cluster of concrete pilings, a sense of urgency developed. My time to respond was narrowing.
Now in that situation I know that if it gets too far along, I'm going to have to bounce off a piling or two (best case) or get pinned against them (worst case). That's Plan C, not a great plan. The Plan "B" is to toss the fish (still hooked) back into the water before I get that close and try to pull it into a more advantageous location before re-landing it. Plan A was to try a LOT harder to get things under control as quickly as possible, get the fish, and get the hell out of there.
Well, in my zeal to attempt one last quick and decisive ("Plan A") pull on the hook, I not only removed it, but I also re-set it... in my left hand. This was probably the fourth time (in 20 years) that the urgency of the circumstances has resulted in a hook being lodged in my hand or my leg. I mention this because, while many surfcasters and boaters have managed to hook themselves, they were largely in control of the circumstances at the time: A boater can leave the fish on the deck of the boat and focus on navigating. A surfcaster can drag the fish up onto the beach (or rocks) and deal with most complications there. A kayak fisherman is in such close quarters with the fish that they catch that at the moment of capture there's no distinguishing between the fish's circumstances and the angler's.
This time the hook happened to set right in a knuckle, and I'm sure that's what prevented it from going deeper. The barb was just beneath the skin and it came out pretty easily. The only lasting pain was to my pride. (Still feeling that.) At least I caught fish!
This is a rich topic, one I think about often and enjoy discussing too often. It occurred to me, while fishing in Jamaica Bay last weekend, that even the type of waters that we find ourselves in are unique to our mode of fishing. We operate in those "inbetween" waters: not at the break where surfcasters reside and not (usually) out in the deeper waters that boaters inhabit. We're able to get inbetween the two, and in my opinion those waters are among the most dynamic. It's where the tidal effects are going to show themselves most dramatically. The deeper waters swell, but tend to stay calm, and the break is no place to be in a kayak. Ours is that domain inbetween, between the swells and where the water meets terrain. It's perfect. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.
* Please no lectures about switching to circle hooks. Thanks.
We have to adjust our thinking to the conditions. A kayak fisherman, when truly "kayak fishing," is having to make these types of decisions and adjustments all the time, whether fighting fish or not, because we're at the mercy of the elements to a much greater extent than other anglers.
How this relates: That night, during my successful venture to the bridge, I found myself trying to unhook a fish that was draped across my lap, as the current pulled me toward the pilings. This lure had two treble hooks and was particularly stubborn as I struggled to extricate it.* Pedaling (in my case, because I have a Hobie) would surely result in a dorsal spine piercing my dry pants or a hook in my knee, so I remained focused on separating the fish from my tackle. Nearing a "6-pack" cluster of concrete pilings, a sense of urgency developed. My time to respond was narrowing.
Now in that situation I know that if it gets too far along, I'm going to have to bounce off a piling or two (best case) or get pinned against them (worst case). That's Plan C, not a great plan. The Plan "B" is to toss the fish (still hooked) back into the water before I get that close and try to pull it into a more advantageous location before re-landing it. Plan A was to try a LOT harder to get things under control as quickly as possible, get the fish, and get the hell out of there.
Well, in my zeal to attempt one last quick and decisive ("Plan A") pull on the hook, I not only removed it, but I also re-set it... in my left hand. This was probably the fourth time (in 20 years) that the urgency of the circumstances has resulted in a hook being lodged in my hand or my leg. I mention this because, while many surfcasters and boaters have managed to hook themselves, they were largely in control of the circumstances at the time: A boater can leave the fish on the deck of the boat and focus on navigating. A surfcaster can drag the fish up onto the beach (or rocks) and deal with most complications there. A kayak fisherman is in such close quarters with the fish that they catch that at the moment of capture there's no distinguishing between the fish's circumstances and the angler's.
This time the hook happened to set right in a knuckle, and I'm sure that's what prevented it from going deeper. The barb was just beneath the skin and it came out pretty easily. The only lasting pain was to my pride. (Still feeling that.) At least I caught fish!
This is a rich topic, one I think about often and enjoy discussing too often. It occurred to me, while fishing in Jamaica Bay last weekend, that even the type of waters that we find ourselves in are unique to our mode of fishing. We operate in those "inbetween" waters: not at the break where surfcasters reside and not (usually) out in the deeper waters that boaters inhabit. We're able to get inbetween the two, and in my opinion those waters are among the most dynamic. It's where the tidal effects are going to show themselves most dramatically. The deeper waters swell, but tend to stay calm, and the break is no place to be in a kayak. Ours is that domain inbetween, between the swells and where the water meets terrain. It's perfect. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.
* Please no lectures about switching to circle hooks. Thanks.
I save the "High Price" accouterments for the boat; I can only afford to bedeck one Wife and one Boat with bling...
Maybe one difference might be in some instances you may be 5 or more miles away from your mooring when you land the fish. Always mark your mooring.
