Dodging the Storms and Chasing Stripers

Saturday March 15, 2025 – It’s been raining for three days straight, and tomorrow promises more of the same. But today? Today was one of those freakishly perfect days—sandwiched between storms—when the wind disappears, the sun comes out, and everything feels just right. I wasn’t the only one who took advantage of the break in the weather.

Rolling up to the San Luis check-in station, I was greeted with the usual routine: the ever-thorough quagga mussel inspection. Never mind that the blue tag on my trailer should’ve been a free pass since I was just here a couple of days ago. The new kid doing the inspection and I had the standard debate about the absurdity of having separate band colors for the Forebay and the Lake. He let slip that I wasn’t the only one complaining—apparently, the policy has been getting roasted by every boater coming and going. Word on the street is they’re finally fixing it, thanks to the relentless ridicule. Everyone except the “scientists” knows the Forebay and Lake share water.

A Day on the Water with Roger George

I launched with Roger George today, a true class act in the fishing world. Back in November, he trolled up two 20+ pounders back-to-back in the Bay of Pigs. The guy knows his stuff. We chatted about the depth of the stripers, and he mentioned his conversations with Steve Santucci. It’s funny—Roger and I approach fishing so differently that sometimes it feels like we’re speaking different languages. He’s the undisputed master of the downrigger at San Luis, while I stick to my usual methods.

The pumps were off at the Racks, which meant no telltale upwelling, just glassy water. A flotilla of boats had set up camp there, likely fishing for deep schools. I wasn’t in the mood for five-minute countdowns, so I started at the Bay of Pigs and worked the rocks along the dam. With the lake nearly full, the extra shoreline gave me plenty to explore. I picked up a few fish slow-fishing the rocks, but they were scattered, making for some tough rowing.

Cracking the Code at the Racks

Around noon, I noticed most of the boats at the Racks had cleared out—not usually a good sign. But curiosity got the best of me, so I scanned the area top to bottom. Most of the pillars were empty, but a tight school of fish had huddled up against the north middle pillar. Most were hanging at 50-60 feet, with a few stragglers at 35-40.

At first, my casts weren’t landing close enough, so I adjusted my position. Once I got my fly stripping within 5-10 feet of the wall, the action turned on. I landed eight fish in a row before they started sinking lower. When my 40-second count wasn’t cutting it anymore, I stretched it to 90 seconds and picked up a few more. By 2:00 PM, the bite had died down as the fish retreated into the depths.

I moved over to the dam, working the causeway all the way to Monument, where I picked up another couple of fish. The Livescope let me see them cruising the shoreline, making them easy to lead and hook in less than 15 feet of water.

The One That Got Away

As I was landing a solid 21-inch fish near Monument Island, I saw something that nearly made me drop my rod. A massive 20+ pound striper swam up and started nibbling on my fish. I scrambled to grab a gear rod rigged with a swimbait and fired off a cast, but the big one vanished before I could get a second shot. Lesson learned—I need a bigger swimbait.

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A Show from the Skies

As the afternoon sun warmed up, the bite cooled off. The fish lost their appetite and sank even deeper. I decided to call it a day and headed to Las Piedras to clean my two keepers. Just as I was getting set up, a Coast Guard helicopter nearly touched down on the water in front of me. Well, not quite—it turned out to be a fire helicopter practicing water drops.

I dropped anchor and started filming as the pilot put on a show, swooping in to scoop up water and dump it over trees and rocks. He must’ve seen me filming because he got bolder, dipping closer and making more dramatic drops. Free entertainment at its finest.

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Wrapping Up

By the time I packed up, I had landed about a dozen nice fish and lost a few more. Not bad for a mid-storm outing. With more rain on the way, it could be a week before I get back out there. But at least today gave me hope—a 20+ pound striper sighting is a very good omen for the year ahead.

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