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"At the conclusion of a successful morning of striper fishing in the Housatonic River, we drifted the boat along a placid area of open water in the Nells Island Refuge behind Smith's Point in Milford. With the tide midway into its rise, we figured the shallows might hold a few more schoolies that we could pick up on four-inch plastic shad baits. Casting our lines toward the edge of the long eel grass-covered island, we hoped to draw out a bass or two lurking in the island's undercut mud bank. It was the right strategy. On his second cast, my fishing partner came fast to a feisty 15-inch bass that put up a heroic struggle for its size but a fruitless one. Lipping the fish carefully with thumb and forefinger, he lifted it out of the water for a closer look at the beautiful creature, its dark stripes standing stark against a glistening silver ground. Then he flipped the fish back into the water, perhaps to fight again some other day. After a few more casts that went unanswered, he felt a sharp tug on his imitation shad as it darted just below the surface. Although the hit was sharper than a striper's, we were unsure what species the fish was until it came to the side of the boat. It was a bluefish, a very unhappy bluefish, of maybe 6 pounds. It was a fish perfect for the grill or the smoker. This guy would not be sent back to the deep. This guy was bound for the live well. Valuing our fingers more than a dinner of grilled fish, neither of us was anxious to try a barehanded grab behind the bluefish's gills that were so perilously near the jaws that snapped like a pair of spring-loaded locking pliers -- only with razor teeth. I grabbed the leader intending to pull enough of the fish out of the water to lock the jaws of a Boga Grip onto its lower lip, but with an acrobatic swish of its forked tail, the bluefish was able to get those nasty teeth around the 30-pound test leader, severing it with the ease of a trained surgeon. We watched with growing sadness as dinner disappeared into the dark waters. (Note: There is no firm evidence that a fish that escapes with a hook imbedded in its mouth survives, but some studies have shown that saltwater and the fish's own body fluids quickly corrode the hooks away.) After that fish got away, we discussed a common conundrum of Long Island Sound fishermen, namely how does one pursue striped bass, a fish highly tackle-sensitive, when bluefish are known to be in the area? As a rule, the more barrel swivels, snaps, wire leaders and other junk on the terminal tackle, the fewer stripers that will come over the gunwales. Serious striper anglers will either tie their lures directly to the running line or attach a short piece of heavy mono to the line with a 12-turn Albright knot. Simplicity is the key. But when a bluefish grabs a lure designed to attract bass, the result is usually a quick cutoff followed by two minutes of unprintable cursing, followed by five minutes of furious reattaching a new leader and lure. And of course, it is an unwritten truism of fishing that while one angler is furiously rigging his tackle, all nearby anglers nearby will be furiously hooking fish. There is no pat answer to the striper/bluefish problem. Some anglers choose to tie on a really stout piece of mono leader, but putting an Albright in a hank of 60- or 80-pound test is like knotting a thread to a sausage. Others reluctantly tie in the swivels and wire, trying to keep connections as short and simple as possible. Short lengths of plastic-coated, 20-pound, tooth-foiling test wire can be Albrighted to mono or braid running line. If you have a pet solution for protecting striper tackle from marauding blues, send it to the email address below and I will print it in a future column. cwalsh@ctpost.com"
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