Summertime is prime time for fishing in the cool hours when the seas are calm and the fish are most active.
It’s that stretch of sweltering days when you crank up the air conditioning for the drive home and start planning to chase stripers and bluefish at dawn, dusk and through the night. In midsummer, the most productive periods often come after dark or just before first light, when bass feed harder and the water settles into glassy comfort.
Rather than suffer another hot daylight trip without a Bimini or T-top, many anglers launch in the cool evening, heading to a favorite spot once the afternoon breeze dies. Flat water and hungry fish make the hours after sunset ideal for casting lures or live bait into structure where stripers and blues hold.
During the peak “stickies” of summer, the evening bite can be delayed until full dark—sometimes not firing until around 9:15 p.m. or later. On calm nights boats cruise from inlet to inlet across the Northeast, targeting classic locations: the ends of the New Jersey jetties where eel and plug anglers work rock piles, rocky points up and down Long Island Sound, both sides of Fishers Island, the shores of Block Island, the rocky runs from Little Compton through Westport, the Elizabeth Islands including Cuttyhunk and Naushon, and the north face of Plum Island. The coastline offers countless productive holds for nighttime striper fishing.
Ready to cast
Many anglers arrive just before dark, anchor where bass funnel with the tide and put out a live eel or two. It’s common to fish both the rocks and the deeper channel at once—one rod casting into the structure, another chunking over the seaward side to tempt fish holding on the bottom. That double-entry approach works well at places like Wilderness Point on Fishers, the entrance to Dorries Cove on Block Island, the Clubhouse on Cuttyhunk and the north side of Plum Island.
When winds ease off after sunset, drifting becomes an excellent tactic. A drift run parallel to the shore lets you cast live eels or soft plastics along the rocks, mark productive lies when you hook up, and then return for another pass. Avoid running straight over a hot spot; instead, circle around up-current and set up a second drift. Excessive motor noise will spook fish, so keep the engine quiet when you’re on station.
Some anglers avoid fishing rocky beaches under a full moon, believing the extra light shuts down the bite. On the south side of Fishers Island, however, the opposite has often been true—bright nights have produced dozens of fish per tide, sometimes before 1 a.m., with fish pushing into the 30-pound class on light spinning gear. Of course, big fish occasionally shed the hook after long runs or get cut off on sharp bottom structure, but the thrill of nighttime hookups keeps crews coming back.
Bright nights also help with navigation, making it easier to see pot buoys, channel markers and familiar landmarks when running home in the wee hours. Even without a chart plotter, experienced captains use light alignments to find safe approaches—running into Fishers Island Sound from the west, for example, one might line up a red and green light east of Groton Long Point and then turn north toward the flashing beacon at the mouth of the Mystic River near Noank Shipyard.
There’s a special satisfaction in returning to an empty marina at 2 a.m., unloading gear and a few fish for the table or a donation, hosing down the boat and heading home to a quiet house and a blast of air conditioning. Those late-night trips can feel like a small, private victory: good fishing, peaceful passage home and the reward of cool sleep after a long, salty night.
The early shift
On the opposite side of the nocturnal cycle are the anglers who are at the ramp long before dawn, familiar faces at all-night coffee stops and often accompanied by a loyal dog. The run downriver before first light is a rare quiet—an intentional pause in otherwise busy lives.
True morning anglers aim to have lines in the water right as the eastern sky brightens. That can mean leaving the driveway before 2 a.m. to be casting at Point Bass by about 4 a.m., ready for the initial wave of feeding. The pre-dawn bite is typically sharp but short—an hour or so of intense action that often fades once the sun clears the horizon, unless you’re holding live bait for daytime presentations.
Every marina seems to have its regulars who rise with the owls to fish a couple of hours, then clean up and head to the coffee shop with stories of the morning’s catches. Others are young entrepreneurs or tradespeople squeezing in an early session before work, their day brightened by a tale of a big blue or a 40-inch bass to share.
Fishing and boating influence countless lives across the Northeast, and whether you prefer late-night drifts or first-light raids, being on the water at the right time of day is what makes the sport so compelling.
Tim Coleman has fished New England waters for most of his life. He served as managing editor of The Fisherman magazine’s New England edition and now writes freelance from Rhode Island.
This article originally appeared in the September 2010 issue.