The opening day of Maryland’s trophy rockfish season was a bust, principally because April 20 was a windy mess with southern gusts to 30 knots. A quick survey of the Sandy Point Marina, where hundreds of boats are usually launched on the first day, revealed only two boat trailers in that enormous parking lot. A drive by the most popular shore-based fishing area, the Sandy Point Beach, showed a similar lack of anglers.

     When Hobbes arrived at our home Saturday evening, two things became apparent. Neither order nor melancholy can survive around a seven-week-old black Labrador puppy. Chaos and laughter, however, grow exponentially.      It’s been more than three years since our female German shorthair pointer Sophie passed, long enough for the pain and sorrow of her absence to fade.

     The first fish was a small crappie, but it generated as much enthusiasm as a state record-breaker. Our lucky angler, Ben, held it proudly aloft, his light spin rod bent over, as we all cheered his success. This diminutive fish was the first catch of the year.

      I’m having trouble staying asleep through the night. That happens this time of year. Probably because of the pollen starting to pour off the surrounding trees, my sinuses are seizing up and threatening to suffocate me in the wee hours. But I know it’s not so simple. The growing warmth and lengthening days make a subconscious call to action. Spring is here and trophy rockfish season will soon be here.       Non-anglers may not understand.

      Late last season I had a most unusual day on the water.       Moving again after releasing a number of undersized schooly rockfish, I cruised south down toward the Bay Bridge. It was nearing the end of a falling tide, and my fish box, bait box, chum bag and patience were all verging on empty.

      Pulling the weather cover off the stern of my skiff, I saw the first of my problems. Some time last fall I must have had to get into the winter-prepped boat. Why I’m not sure, but it was well forward in the console. That I could tell from the muddy tracks. Since the trail remained on my deck all winter, I knew it was going to take some elbow grease to get it scrubbed out. That job became No. 1 on my shakedown list.

      The 2019 rockfish season is going to be challenging. Last year signaled population problems with warning signs we hadn’t seen before.       First was the unexpected failure of the trophy season. Fishing boats crowded Bay waters on the opener, but few reported legal catches. The opening day catch-and-release tournament held by Boatyard Bar and Grill — attended by well over 100 boats and crews — had only about two or three qualifying entries.

     Casting out our four rigs baited with fresh menhaden chunks, we awaited the bite. This was the third phase of an opportune experiment. It happened some time ago during a red-hot rockfish chum bite that stretched from the Bay Bridge down past Tolley Point and lasted well over a month. The bite was so consistent for so long we knew it would end soon.

      As the 2019 fishing season begins, the most important thing you can do — aside from renewing your fishing license — is also the most affordable: replacing your fishing line. It is also the one thing most commonly ignored.

      The first signs of an active yellow perch run showed last Saturday, February 16. Returning from an action-filled rabbit hunt in Dorchester County with Charles Rodney and his six hounds, we crossed over the many small bridges that span the crisscrossing branches of the Blackwater River.