AN ANCHOVY AUTUMN

©   Ed Mitchell 1996

     I am leaning back against a stone wall, staring up into a starry October night. The air is cool. And the only sound is the hiss of a gentle surf as it foams through the Rhode Island rocks. As beautiful as these tranquil moments are, I have my finger crossed that the sea is about to come alive, for stripers have been showing here regularly, ripping into schools of bay anchovy at first light.   

     My fly rod lies near me, rigged and ready, while a faint light slowly builds in the east, forcing shapes and textures to emerge from the dark uniformity of the night. Picking up my gear, I climb up on a flat rock and begin scanning the water, scouting for signs of life. Moments later my eyes catch a small swirl off to my right - then another, followed by several more less than two hundred feet away. Stripers are here. Just as I am about to move, the rocky bowl right at my feet is transformed into a churning mass of dorsal fins, tails and spraying bay anchovies. I scramble down to the water and fire off a cast into that ancient struggle between predator and prey that fuels an angler’s autumn. 

     Anchovies are some of the most numerous fish on earth, inhabiting tropical and temperate waters, both inshore and offshore. As such they are an enormous biomass and play a critical role as forage for many fish and birds around the planet. Of the roughly 150 different species, two get a special tip of the hat from fly rodders along the Atlantic coast. They are the striped anchovy, found most often from the Chesapeake Bay southward and the bay anchovy which ranges from Cape Cod to Florida.

      For the last several seasons bay anchovy have been a key ingredient in the fall fishing along the southern New England coast and over at Montauk. Their rise in importance may be due to a natural peak in its cycle of abundance or perhaps it is simply that other common bait fish such as sand eels and menhaden are presently far less abundant in these waters. Whatever the reason, fly rodders increasingly prepare to meet the challenge of fishing over this tiny bite size bait.

      As adults, bay anchovy are a silvery fish that reaches a maximum size of close to 4 inches although 3 inch adults are far more common. It is the smaller and lesser know juvenile, however, that is responsible for the excellent nearshore fall fishing in the Northeast. This is a very important distinction to make since the size and coloration of the young-of-the-year are quite different from its parents.

      The immature bay anchovy varies in length from location to location, and even from year to year. In the past, the ones I saw along the Rhode Island coast were up to 1¼ inches, but last year some were closer to 2 inches in length. Likely such changes are the result of weather patterns and the ability of these fish to spawn over many months of the year.

      In terms of coloration these immature anchovies are pale and translucent with a hint of yellow brown. A closer inspection reveals small black dots along the perimeter of the body and out on to the fins. Contrasting with the subdued coloration of the body, the head and gut are opaque and there maybe a hint of a silver lateral line, especially as the juvenile gets bigger. The striped anchovy, the bay anchovy’s cousin, is similar in appearance but has a very distinct silver stripe down its lateral line and is considerably larger. Its size and stripe make it easy to confuse with a silverside.

      While knowing the size and coloration of any bait fish is always helpful, knowing when and where to find them is even more essential. The baby anchovies bite, in my waters, happens during roughly a six week window each fall. That window first opens during the month of September as the immature bay anchovy start to stage around the mouths of the salt ponds on the Rhode Island coast. Usually a strong blow or a series of moon tides seems to trigger their arrival.

      Often in these locations they form long lines, parading slowly back and forth along the length of a jetty wall, within inches of the rocks. These streams of bait produce some exciting fishing, for a wide range of predators and it is usually at point blank range. Because of the bait’s diminutive size, naturally, some of it enemies are small as well, such as snapper blues. Back three years ago, I caught two relatively rare fish, at least for my waters, working a school of bay anchovies. They were a banded rudder fish and a pilot fish.

      Still the sheer volume of bait makes an attract meal for much bigger predators too, including large bass and bluefish. It is also the “fish du jour” for bonito and little tunny. As weeks go by, however, the anchovies leave the estuary mouths and starts moving along the shore. I expect this to happen in early October. During this journey, the slow moving schools initially stay in close proximity to the beach, giving shore based anglers reasons to smile. Still nothing good lasts forever. By early November these schools, in my experience, are usually well away from shore, headed to deeper water.

      At close range, spotting these schools is not a difficult task. For one thing the little guys often swim on top in plain view. And you can easily see them in the curl of a wave when the light is right. From a distance, naturally, things get harder. Still there are clues to look for. First thing to do is to scout for birds. I regularly see cormorants hounding these schools, sometimes forming a line to herd the anchovies towards the beach. Once they have the school pinned in against the shore they dive under for an attack. Next keep an eye on the color of the water too. Bay anchovies are so numerous they can tint an area yellowish brown. And when things get really crammed together, such as in a blitz, I have seen them turn the water dark red.

      At times bay anchovy may be so abundant as to cover a large portion of several miles of shore front. This happens along the southwestern coast of Rhode Island because of the close proximity of several salt ponds. As a result, last year in October we saw times when stripers simultaneously blitzed long stretches of shore in a single day. Generally this action peaked in early morning and again in late afternoon. But during those periods it often went on for hours and rarely did the action move a great deal once it got underway.

      Let me warn you now, fish feeding on baby bay anchovy can be terrible finicky and the volume of bait and its small size are to blame. One of the best solutions, at least in southern New England waters, is a small epoxy type fly of between 1 and 2” inches overall. They do an excellent job of creating an imitation that closely resembles the natural. Further south the juveniles may be bigger and a larger fly is needed where immature striped anchovy roam.

      Many of these epoxy patterns, to my eye, spring from the original Pop-Fleyes concept created by Bob Popovics. D.L. Goddard and Page Rogers have also created effective anchovy flies, as has Mark Lewchik. Still, as good as epoxy flies are, they not mandatory. Small silicone flies, such as the one tied by Captain Johnny Glenn, and Jim Slater’s new Easy Prey are excellent choices. And, as always, an appropriate sized Deceivers, can be expected to take fish too.

      Baby bay anchovy flies can be constructed on size 1 or 2 hooks, although some anglers go down to size 4. All of these hooks are capable of holding on to your prize, but you want to be careful about making an extremely light weight fly. True they are easy to cast, yet once in the water they may be difficult to keep a tight line to, especially where there is turbulence. One solution is to use a larger than normal, heavy wire hook with a short shank. Live bait hooks are a good example. This keeps the body length the same, but gives the fly a little additional weight, making it easier to control. Bob Popovic’s Deep Candy takes an innovative approach, incorporating a bead head to give the fly a Clouser-like jigging action.

      Regardless of how convincing your bay anchovy imitation is, expect times when it does not seem to work. This frequently is the case when big stripers get a school of bay anchovies pinned down inside a tight bay, slough or bowl. Here they seem to practically wallow in the bait, sucking them in by the pint full. It is an incredible sight: Backs, dorsal fins and tails literally milling around and through the bait. Yet because the bass are targeting them by the mouthful rather than keying on individual fish, a single small fly easily goes unnoticed. And with the adrenaline pumping, some anglers will continue to cast the same offering- hoping their tiny imitation eventually finds a friend.

     Stop, take a deep breath and rethink things. Frequently in these situations the solution lies in using a fly larger than the natural. For instance, something 50 percent bigger will stand out. Taking it one step further, an 8” inch blue and white deceiver, with prominent eyes, has worked well for me. Perhaps stripers perceive this big fly in their midst as a predator, like themselves, preying on the anchovies. Whatever the reason it produces. Still it is not a question of simply throwing it out and pulling it back; there is a trick to it. Once you cast the fly into the battle zone, creep it back as slowly as possible, just fast enough to maintain tension on the line. Given the mayhem in front of you, this snail’s pace feels absurd, but it seems to greatly increase the fly’s appeal. Likely with so much food in front of them, stripers have zero incentive to chase something zipped past their face. But a big slow moving meal is another story, one much harder to resist. Still it may pass in front of several fish before one decides to give it a chew. Even then, expect the strike to be relatively soft, so stay alert.

The End

(Home)