It's not everyday that you read an excellent article about Chesapeake Bay fishing in the New York Times--especially one that mentions so many PropTalk fishing gurus! Check out this neat article by Chesapeake native turned Outside Magazine writer Tim Neville.
The breeze came slow and easy out of the west, and the creek was glassy and calm as if it were just waking up, too. From the wharf in Onancock, a hamlet on Virginia’s Eastern Shore, the Onancock Creek courses for about five miles past stately homes and black water coves to empty in the Chesapeake Bay. Out there the waves would be less than a foot high, perfect conditions for our prey. “Those specks really like clear water,” said Bob Walter, a 58-year-old fishing guide everyone calls Captain Walt. My father, Bill Neville, stood next to him near the skiff’s center console as we motored downstream, the wake fracturing the sunlight into golden tesserae. The captain had been doing this for 43 years, and my father, who is in his 70s, has pretty much spent his entire life within whiffing distance of the bay. For as long as I can remember he has been chasing speckled trout.
In the late summer, when the bay is the saltiest and warmest it will be all year, specks, or spotted sea trout as they’re formally known, become the talk of fishermen all along the 195-mile-long bay. The Chesapeake, North America’s largest estuary, marks the northern reaches of the fish’s range and speck numbers seem to peak in the hot, hazy days of August and early September. If you friend the right folks, your social media streams can spill their banks with pictures of people holding the fish with the fat flopped over their fingers.
FIND THE FULL ARTICLE HERE
Friday, August 1, 2014 - 12:07
It's not everyday that you read an excellent article about Chesapeake Bay fishing in the New York Times--especially one that mentions so many PropTalk fishing gurus! Check out this neat article by Chesapeake native turned Outside Magazine writer Tim Neville.
The breeze came slow and easy out of the west, and the creek was glassy and calm as if it were just waking up, too. From the wharf in Onancock, a hamlet on Virginia’s Eastern Shore, the Onancock Creek courses for about five miles past stately homes and black water coves to empty in the Chesapeake Bay. Out there the waves would be less than a foot high, perfect conditions for our prey. “Those specks really like clear water,” said Bob Walter, a 58-year-old fishing guide everyone calls Captain Walt. My father, Bill Neville, stood next to him near the skiff’s center console as we motored downstream, the wake fracturing the sunlight into golden tesserae. The captain had been doing this for 43 years, and my father, who is in his 70s, has pretty much spent his entire life within whiffing distance of the bay. For as long as I can remember he has been chasing speckled trout.
In the late summer, when the bay is the saltiest and warmest it will be all year, specks, or spotted sea trout as they’re formally known, become the talk of fishermen all along the 195-mile-long bay. The Chesapeake, North America’s largest estuary, marks the northern reaches of the fish’s range and speck numbers seem to peak in the hot, hazy days of August and early September. If you friend the right folks, your social media streams can spill their banks with pictures of people holding the fish with the fat flopped over their fingers.
FIND THE FULL ARTICLE HERE