Long Island Sound produces stellar sea bass fishing
Long Island Sound produces stellar sea bass fishing
By Tyler Frantz
Fourteen year-old Noah Crolius confidently maneuvered the 26-foot Pacemaker Wahoo boat out of Groton Long Point Marina under the close supervision of his father, Todd. Throttling down to yield for a returning sailboat, he exited the no wake zone, and then fired up the twin Mazda rotary engines, paying close attention to the boat’s navigation software- as well as his father’s occasional instructions- to take us safely out into Long Island Sound.
Todd Crolius grew up in Groton Long Point, Connecticut, where as a boy, he fished and caught crabs nearly every single day. He recalls setting the goal of 1,000 landed snappers per summer, and the satisfying aroma of his grandmother’s fresh fillet breakfast frying in the kitchen.
Now Todd has a son of his own who seems to have caught the same fishing bug as his father. Noah attends marine study camps, enjoys diving with spear guns and has all the local fish species and size limits memorized by heart. This kid is the real deal- and he’s a better fisherman than most. Todd is a business friend of my father-in-law, Trip McGarvey, and when he heard I would be visiting for the week, he was kind enough to invite Trip, my bother-in-law Casey, and me along for a Sunday afternoon fishing excursion aboard his private vessel, the “Tie One On.”
Our initial plan was to drift for fluke, maybe catch a few blue fish and then try for top water stripers around sundown. But after a stop at the local tackle shop, where the fishing report convinced Todd otherwise, we decided to target black sea bass instead. “I’ve never tried this before, so bear with me,” Todd said, as he tied up bottom rig leaders with two hooks and one 8-ounce bank sinker. “But I’ve been told the sea bass are really hitting this year, and they are supposed to be really good eating, so I’d like to give them a shot if that’s ok.“
We were in no position to argue with a man who just received current, credible intel from a local insider, so we happily obliged to do whatever the captain thought was best. Exchanging nods of agreement, Trip replied, “It’s your boat; we go where you go,” and that was that. We baited up with clams and squid and dropped our lines approximately 30-feet to bounce and jig them along the bottom. After several random drifts, Noah, Trip and I each landed big porgies, also known as scup, but Casey caught the only sea bass for our group.
Scanning the horizon, our captain spotted a fleet of about seven boats concentrated in the same area. “I’ll bet that’s where they are catching the bass,” he said. Figuring he was probably right, we all brought in our lines and motored in their direction.
According to the depth finder, we approached much deeper water, ranging from 110- to 165-feet. We dropped our lines, and I counted more than 30 seconds from the time I opened my spinning reel’s bail until the sinker hit bottom. Those fishing with conventional rods took even longer. Within a few seconds of my first cast, my rod tip doubled over. I set the hook hard and began reeling, but the fish kept pulsing and surging back towards the bottom. As a lengthy, incredible fight ensued, Noah brought in his line and scrambled to retrieve the landing net.
He knelt at the bow, anxiously waiting for whatever I hooked to come to the surface. Eventually, it materialized and he shouted, “Whoa, it’s a shark!” He lunged at the water and netted the 40+ inch smooth dogfish and brought it aboard. We promptly unhooked it, snapped a few photos and sent it back on its way. But, boy, what a fight! After settling down, we returned our efforts to the black sea bass, which proved even more eager to bite than the sharks.
After a couple trial-by-fire drifts, during which three of us hooked up on some unknown sunken structure which tore off our lines, the captain eventually figured things out and we began to absolute hammer them. We’d start shallow, and then progressively drop more line as we drifted across the deepening shelf. The fish seemed to be lying right along the drop-off, so we’d drift until the bottom leveled out and then Todd would move us back and we’d repeat the process.
We caught fish every single drift, many times with multiple hookups at once. Casey and I landed a pair of keeper bass at the exact same time, then Casey trumped this feat by landing a blue fish on one hook and a sea bass on the other hook of the same rig simultaneously- an unbelievable double, which tested his arm strength.
After amassing a total of ten sea bass and four porgies on ice, with many more thrown back to the water, we opted to change tactics for the last few hours of daylight.
As the wind picked up and a steady chop churned our boat to-and-fro around sunset, we cautiously skirted the rocky shallows to target big, aggressive stripers using top water lures.
Todd pointed out a jagged, rusty metal protrusion above the water, explaining it as the final resting place of a tugboat that tried to negotiate “The Race” in poor conditions. “You’ve got no business being out here if you don’t know what you’re doing,” he said.
He held the boat as steady as possible while we launched the largest plugs I’ve ever seen toward the rocks, and then ripped them across the water’s surface. During one single cast out of more than a hundred, a huge striper rose and struck violently at my plug.
He could have been a twenty- or thirty-pounder, but I’ll never know for sure. In sheer amazement of the hit, I panicked and yanked too hard, missing the hook set completely. It was a rare opportunity I wish I could have back for a do-over, but I suppose it’s moments like these that keep one coming back for more. 
Dusk settled, and we headed back to fillet our catch by the dock under a cloak of darkness, tired and in the company of buzzing mosquitoes. But it was well worth the effort. I later pan-fried some sea bass to enjoy with a side of Spanish rice and fresh garden beans. While indulging in the plate’s sheer deliciousness, I gave thanks for an incredible day on the water with family and new friends. I must say- we did okay for first-time sea bass anglers; I’m sure glad we decided to give them a shot.
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