Meadowlands Stripers
Fish Early Season in this Transformed Environment
The Meadowlands are the
most paradoxical place in the state, possibly in the world—an immense landfill thriving
with wildlife and fish. With the dumps inactive since about 1980, garbage
remains underground. It’s said that anywhere you would dig in the Meadowlands,
you would find something. The grassy hills that grace horizons are mounds of
trash underneath. Near some Richard W. Dekorte Park trails you can see a few
small drain pipes that empty black leachate—liquid decomposition from the
bottoms of these piles, pure pollution and poison.
But this alien mixture
does not empty into the approximately 500 acres of Hackensack River associated
tidal flats in the park. When calm, the surface of these waters will sometimes
reflect a peregrine falcon and landing passenger jet alike flying overhead. And
the big secret for anglers is that for years now, from late March into June, a
few fishermen have been scoring big on school stripers. I have heard of them
caught as large as 11 pounds, and from another source, 10 pounds. The flats can
be an excellent early season starting point because they are mostly very
shallow. During a March or April heat wave, falling tide pulls out warmed
water from flats above the lower set, and stripers congregate in the currents.
Spillways and a Sluice—Stripers Seek the Action
Being artificial, the
lay-out of the few flats is fairly simple. Two have higher water levels
than the lower. All three are cordoned off from one another by lengthy dikes with
trails and fishing access all along them. But a great deal of acreage is
simplified for the purpose of fishing by pipe spillways between these flats,
and one large sluiceway with flow under a bridge. Without these striper
magnets, it seems doubtful the bass would bother with these flats at all. At
low tide, most of the lower flat is exposed mud and huge Atlantic white cedar
stumps from the 19th century. But channels leading to the spillways
and sluice are perfectly evident; it all makes sense.
Each one of the eight pipe flows can hold bass. But everyone seems to agree that the outflow closest
to the Meadowlands Environmental Center building is hot. Simply exit the
parking lot towards the first flat visible to the right of the building facing
it. That corner with the outflow looks humble, but can be loaded with bass. So
is the outflow at the far corner of the straight dike which proceeds from the
first corner. I spoke to an angler who has fished these waters for years, and
he told of once catching a dozen keeper sized stripers on a blistering cold day
in March when the tide approached its lowest point. The first corner was
“nothing but a shallow creek, and I pulled one bass after the other out of it!”
The far corner outflow
seems to pump straight out into deep open water, but I bet you will get snagged and
change your notion. At low tide stumps are visible and a few lures
gracing them. It’s best to begin a retrieve when a swimbait hits water, keep
rod tip high, and turn that crank. Plenty of bass congregate here, and one
angler told me that a big bass hit his floating Rapala, so big that it never stopped
running before the 8 pound test mono parted.
From the far corner, a
10 minutes’ walk—a good half mile or so—takes you to the walk bridge over the
sluice. Here the upper flat has the deepest water of all the acreage, about 35
feet, a big hole unlike all the other area. As tide falls, water moves through
this sluice with great force because of the uneven water levels between flats.
That water is deep under the bridge and typically too fast to fish. But immediately
past the bridge portal, edges and eddies develop. A great deal of possibility exists
for working a lure, the water is not so deep as it empties onto the lower flat,
and bass pack it.
Lures to Choose and Retrieves that Work
Especially early on,
nothing seems to beat a paddletail swimbait, with other swimbait styles following
as close seconds. I did, however, once run out of paddletails (the stumps are
voracious), and settled for straight tailed swimbaits, only to have the bite
stop dead. I don’t think it was because the stripers moved on or stopped
hitting altogether. Rather, I think paddle action is deadly and can make all
the difference sometimes.
This isn’t largemouth
bass fishing. Even with fairly cold water a moderate retrieve tends to be most
effective. If the bass are associated with these currents, they are here with
an interest to feed. By retrieving a paddletail along a current edge, either
steady or with some pulls and twitches, it’s not important and often not
advisable to keep close contact with bottom. You have two objectives: to
provoke feeding stripers to mistake your lure for a frantic herring, and to
keep it rather than lose it to a stump.
3/8ths to 3/4 ounce
sizes work well; I’ve done best with white and pearl. A light rod will suffice,
but with an 8 foot spinning rod ideal for casting lures in the fall surf you
can get the most casting distance from half to ¾ ounce swimbaits. This helps in the
sluice area—the current reaches well out onto the flat as tide falls—and even
in the corners. Naturally with such a beefy rod you will need at least 10 pound
test line so that you don’t break it on a hook set. With lighter rods it’s wise
not to go under 8 pound test, just in case.
As water warms, lure choice
increases: jerkbaits and even topwaters are more appealing because their
erratic action approximates the increased activity of herring and bass alike as
the season progresses. Fish those edges and eddies especially, but always check
strong current, except under the bridge when it’s useless. I’ve caught bass in
direct current even early in the season.
Experiment with
retrieves since variation might hit a nerve that regular patterns just don’t
excite. Nature is less regular and lawful than schoolbooks lead us to believe.
Its complexity is infinite and always deviating from any norm. While everything
that swims has a constant intent to survive, most everything doesn’t survive long, so irony gets the
best of most intentions—bass are looking for motions that catch their attention
in whatever natural way moves them to strike. Since we usually can’t know
exactly what those ways may be—experiment.
Evening is the Best Bet
For whatever reasons,
it’s not always the case that an early warm spell with a falling evening tide
provokes a bite. Early in April this past year, I had what I thought was a
perfect combination of sun, 87 degree temperatures, and falling late
afternoon/evening tide. I would almost have succumbed to
believing a big score was inevitable; my ability to put hope in check developed
over years of fishing saved face. I had one hit.
Although the best bet
early on are conditions that produce warm water ebb, my best fishing in April
has been during overcast, light rain on mid-afternoon ebb. And catches, as I
have illustrated, are made in blustery, cold conditions as well. At least
relatively cold--I don’t suppose a March day in the mid-teens would be
worthwhile.
Once water has warmed
appreciably by May, early and late becomes the rule that may be broken,
especially during overcast or rainy weather. By June, if it gets too hot, those shallow flats become a
frying pan and you may as well chase the bass back into the Hackensack River.
Temperature's an oddity. In my boyhood I detested winter and felt surges of hope when 50 degrees peaked or surpassed. The feel of temperature is sensed directly and yet less tangibly than air breathed, water swum in, or metal touched. It conditions human life in ways usually taken for granted. It has effects on the sense of touch that are absolute, yet how it affects you depends on attitude to some degree.
