Different Strokes

[ThomCat]

This should stir it up a bit, especially the Clammer......

New Englanders have long debated the credentials of Striped Bass vs. Bluefish in terms of their abilities and merits as a Gamefish. The fact is, it all boils down to:
Different Strokes For
Different Folks
by
Capt. Thom Pelletier

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Ordinarily there’s little deliberation when discussing which fish retains the title of top dog among the inshore crowd along the New England Coast. The Striped Bass wins in a landslide. This species has been elevated to an almost godly status in these parts for many reasons, some real and some the offspring of their legend.
Captivating tales bequeathed to us from the Bass fishing pioneers of yesteryear and enhanced over time are retold from Chesapeake Bay to Narragansett Bay. The audience enjoying these yarns extends north to include the entirety of the Cape, as well as the rugged shores and mighty rivers of New Hampshire and Maine.
The degree of adoration has evolved almost to the point where the ability of an angler to regularly catch them often becomes the measuring stick by which his prowess with the fish pole is judged.
This lofty position they hold can be attributed to various factors. The primary consideration is simply their hard fighting nature. There’s a certain feeling of satisfaction and achievement attached to landing a nice Bass that is equaled by few other angling experiences.
There’s a mystique to the Striper, and by extension, to those who pursue them which, in many cases, has been handed down from generation to generation. Those who are totally consumed by and successful in the pursuit of the Striper can often lay claim to being the most dedicated and hard-working individuals who ply the salt. There’s a secrecy to this elite fraternity of anglers that is unique unto themselves. It almost seems as if through some patented and exclusive nod or wink, the true bass addicts are able to distinguish one another among the many impostors and wannabes.
Stripers are perceived as the ultimate surf-fishing prize in the Northeastern region. Their enigmatic behavior often demands that one be vigilant and persevering to have any chance at consistent success. One minute, their fickle personality can have them exhibiting such aggression that you can’t keep a bait or lure away from them. The next minute, you can’t tempt them with anything the on the planet. In the same light, a spot can be teeming with them on one tide and devoid of even a trace on the next. Their desirability is further enhanced by the fact that their dimensions give surf jockeys, as well as inshore boat anglers, a legitimate shot at a really big fish.
Bluefish, on the other hand, are viewed as mindless eating machines that require little more skill to catch than is required to chew gum. This observation is often not far from the truth. They induce none of the mystical platitudes indigenous to the Bass. The faithful Striper legions will always view them as strictly a waste of time and a problematic distraction to succeeding in their quest.
The Blues themselves legitimize this mindset many times over. When they’re fired up, they will often chase and smack a surface plug until they bang into the boat. This characteristic, in addition to many of their other antics, will never allow them to be perceived as the cunning predator that is an identifying quality inherent to the Stripers. There’s even an adage popular along Rhode Island’s South Shore asserting that Bluefish were created solely to placate those who are unable to fool Stripers.


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The resurgence of the Stripers from their precarious “on the brink” position of not too many years ago is an inspiring testament to their resiliency. This resilience is another contributing factor to their legacy. It is also a clear indication of the rejuvenating triumphs nature is capable of when given half a chance. Ironically, in the absence of the Bass during that uncertain period, it was the Bluefish that filled the void. They supplied sport fishermen and charter captains with a welcomed alternative target species.
Unfortunately, at that same time, Blues could regularly be seen on too many docks stacked like cordwood. Apparently, a number of charter and private captains couldn’t make the connection between the demise of the Bass, due, in apportion, to an unlimited overfishing, with what the same practice would generate with their next victim, the bread and butter Bluefish.
These days, the Stripers are considered the glamour fish, the money fish. Their renaissance has kept them in demand and their name in the spotlight. While it’s their allure that draws fishermen en mass to New England’s substantial charter boat fleet, it’s the bluefish that usually wear them out and fill in the gaps when the Bass develop lockjaw.


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Blues represent the everyman class of ocean adversary. They seem to embody that old Joe Frazier, lead with your face mentality. It’s hard to believe that they can attain the sizes that they do, considering that they seem to be perpetually plugged into the attack mode. In most instances, it’s safe to say that once you’ve located them, the challenging aspect of the game is pretty much over. Moreover, in more cases than not, if you spend enough time in a tried and true locale, the Blues’ roaming and ravaging ways will most likely have them finding you.
With the Stripers, the challenge of duping a respectable specimen calls for an attentive, almost stealth approach and, under most circumstances, a commitment to sacrificing significant sleep throughout the course of the season. The devoted Striper community that stalk them in the surf and the boatmen who work close to shore will confirm that this is basically a night time vocation. Not only are the Bass most receptive and vulnerable in the dark, but the pesky Blues are less likely to turn those $1.50 each eels, which are the preferred bait, into bloody stumps.
Conversely, when targeting Bluefish, the time of day is rarely the overriding factor. They are seldom timing discriminate and pretty much slaves only to their own voracious appetites. If there were a best time, it would probably be at sun-up.
To touch on size again, Striped Bass are capable of reaching some hefty proportions if and when the food base allows. They are also cautious and wily enough to permit these proportions to be realized in many instances. Bluefish, on the other hand, displays little constraint and seem to possess none of these self-preservation-induced attributes. They go through life all teeth, temper and tail. It’s actually mind boggling that such large numbers get through their first year as even the Skipjacks (young of the year) tend to flaunt the same savagery prevalent in their elders. Fish attaining the ten pound mark do so in spite of themselves. At fifteen pounds, they are truly blessed. Individuals that approach the twenty pound mark should collectively be deemed the Eighth Wonder of the World. And further, the few that top the twenty-five to thirty pound level, and there are recorded specimens, should be considered man eaters as well as certifiable miracles.
To be fair and honest, comparing the Striped Bass with the Bluefish as to each one’s value as a gamefish is conceptually like comparing apples and oranges. The desirability of each species directly relates to the traits that the fisherman deems important.
Many Striper aficionados perceive the perseverance and determination warranted in their pursuit as much a part of the process as the catch itself. Comparable in many respects to the astute trout-fishing purist, the appeal of this endeavor does not have to entirely revolve around success or failure to connect.
Other anglers focus on the most bang for the buck. They measure the value of the opponent, first and foremost, by his ability to pull the string. To this contingency, power and cooperation are the components that define worth in a gamefish. This is where the Bluefish shine. An angler would be hard pressed to find a more unyielding combatant. Their blending of aerial displays and dogged endurance endears them to those in it for a prolonged and spirited battle as opposed to a cerebral experience. That’s not to imply that the Bluefish devotees are a bunch of beer swillers who personify certain elements purported by their bad-tempered quarry. Neither does it suggest that Striper zealots are the aristocrats of the saltwater community. Rather, it’s to illustrate only that beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
Striped Bass maintain many of the qualities that human beings identify with and consider exemplary. They are strong and beautiful creatures that have proven themselves to be resourceful and resilient. They symbolize a breed of anglers who are steeped in tradition and lore. Bluefish are also handsome and powerful beasts that have likewise suffered and survived some low points in their history not entirely of their own making. Regrettably, their seemingly endless numbers and complete lack of discretion will never permit them to earn the respect or reverence bestowed on the Bass.
So the Striped Bass will remain the reigning kings of our shores, and rightfully so. The Northeast Coast has affectionately been re-titled “The Striper Coast” in their honor. We have truly put them on a pedestal. On the other hand, the Bluefish seem destined to be forever relegated to, at best, a second banana and, at worst, an out and out nuisance.
Personally, I doubt I will live long enough to ever say I’ve had my fill of either fish. Upon acknowledging that, please allow for one more observation that I offer with all due respect to both the Bass and the Bluefish as well as all those who relish the pursuit of each of them.
Very few will dispute the fact that Striper is the infinitely more discriminating of the two, and accordingly, the more challenging a fish to fool. With that said however, if by any chance the duo were embroiled in a head to head, pound for pound confrontation, I’m convinced that Old Mr. Bluefish would promptly dismiss his counterparts storied past and emphatically yank him off the stated pedestal. That accomplished, he would proceed to rudely and irreverently drag the vaunted Bass up and down his fabled coast.


Reprinted courtesy of On The Water Publishing