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Articles by Dennis Doyle

Highs and lows on the trotline

  The initial run on our trotline proved a surprising success. The first four baits had jumbo crabs hanging on them, and my netter, Harrison, quickly had them rattling in our collection basket.  After that fortunate start, they continued to come, and there was scarcely need to measure any of them. All were prime Jimmies. My son and I were ecstatic. This was going to prove an easy trip. We would quickly discover that we were wrong again. Our trip had nearly been a casualty from the...

Rod maker George Pavlik had agonized over this rod —
the perfect stick for casting to white perch

  My skiff had drifted a good distance from the cove’s rip-rapped edge by the time I glimpsed the slight flash. It was the gold/green hue of a big white perch, deep and near the rocks. Arcing my spinner bait out over the growing distance, I got it close to the mark.  - I gave the lure just a second or two to get down, then started to crank. The fish must have hit it on the drop, because I was immediately solid. It felt like a good one. Playing it gently, I kept a good bend in...

Forgetting that maxim, this dummy went home hungry

  It had been a simple plan: Start out before dawn; catch some small Norfolk spot for live-lining; locate a pod of rockfish; catch two keepers; get off the water before the temps hit 100. I’d done it before, and that formula had been a sure route to success. However, all the parts had to cooperate to make my plan work. The before-dawn part was easily accomplished, though the gods know I don’t care for getting up in the dark. But after I had launched and began my bait search, I...

A gathering of these thick-bodied fish will fill your cooler and make a memorable dinner

  My memory of big white perch begins on the Eastern Shore. I was fishing out of Crisfield in the early 1970s with the first fly-fishing guide on the Chesapeake, Doug Carson. I had looped out a long cast with a small, white marabou streamer to a sunken rock jetty off Janes Island and had come tight with what I assumed was a rowdy schoolie rock.  As I fought it near the boat, Doug reached over, grabbed my leader and flipped the chunky devil into the skiff remarking, “Nice black...

Female blue crabs need our protection

  It’s beginning to look like business as usual with the Chesapeake’s most treasured natural resource, the blue crab. Maryland is on course to resume the destructive harvest of female crabs, sooks, with its first official act upon the arrival of news that the crab population has at last begun to rebound.  At the brink of species collapse two years ago, our crab population has shown a 60 percent increase in only two seasons after the first significant reduction of female...

This rockfish took me for a Chesapeake train ride

  It had been way too many days since I had caught a rockfish, and I was ready. But late that afternoon, the light was beginning to fail, and my surface plug had gone untouched cast after cast.  My hopes had been pinned on a rumor that there were good fish to be had around this remote pile of boulders. Now it looked like it was just not going to happen for me, again. Getting desperate, I changed my lure color. Perhaps in the dim, fading light of day, black would be a better choice....

In the shift to shallow water, tackle makes the difference

Live-lining small Norfolk spot remains the surest bet for a limit of striped bass on the Chesapeake. But light-tackle lure fishing grows more exciting as our waters cools with September’s chillier weather, when striped bass behavior changes. Fish Are Biting The shallow-water rockfish bite is growing more reliable after the warmer-than-usual water temperatures. So live-lining Norfolk spot around the Bay Bridge pilings, off of Podickery Point, Hackett’s and around Thomas Point...

Top-water fishing’s all about how you play the lure

The quiet waterscape flowing around us was only dimly illuminated by the first blush of a calm and breaking day as my son and I made our casts. Drifting slowly in our skiff on the fresh start of a gentle ebb, we were moving about 100 feet out and parallel to a long, weathered bulkhead, footed by heavy, barnacled stone piled along its base. Fish Are Biting Rockfish, Spanish mackerel and bluefish are making life interesting for anglers enjoying our nearly perfect weather the past week or so....

All our canine companions evolved from the hunter

Watching my German shorthair pointer, Sophie, enter an autumn game field never fails to send a quiver of anticipation through my being. She operates with certainty in an arena where I can only guess at what is about to transpire. A hunting dog is grace, speed, focus and intensity. Humans are acolytes when we accompany a dog into the wild. Pausing as we enter a cover, she will lift her head and taste the air. Instantly she knows the history that has recently transpired unseen before us. The game...

To play with them, you need to know the rules

The Chesapeake had at last become quiet. The Bay’s summertime revelers — with their boats, jet skis and water toys — had fled home hours ago. Even the gulls were finally mute, settling into their roosts for the evening. But as deep darkness descended, my fishing partner, Christian, and I sat motionless at anchor in my small skiff positioned about 100 feet from a heavy rock jetty. Fish Are Biting The rockfish live-lining bite remains incredible this summer. It is as sure a...