PORTLAND HARBOR, GATEWAY TO MAINE'S CALENDAR ISLANDS

  Are the waters around Portland Maine's harbor really an "angler's Paradise" as they are often described, or are anglers just beginning to recognized these waters for their true value? I believe it (Paradise) exists only in the minds of the daydreamers who watch me motor across the harbor, from their air-conditioned offices overlooking the Commercial Street waterfront.

  While these waters may fall short of the mythical place where big fish are hungry all the time, no one can argue with my claim that southern Casco Bay is a mighty fine place to be on a hot summer's day.

  No so many years ago, I was chained to a desk in one of those offices and I watched with envy as other anglers sped out across the waves, heading for spots I knew to hold fish on any given tide. Those chains were broken when I began counting ringing telephones and e-mails at bedtime, instead of counting sheep. It was then my decision was made to never wear shoes with laces again.

  My 20-foot boat seems tiny compared to the ocean-going tankers and fishing vessels I maneuver around daily, as I head for the sheltered waters on the lee side of the islands to the north and west of the busiest seaport north of Boston.

  For a fleeting moment a rush of guilt might course through my veins, then rightfully dissipated. I, too, was headed for work, albeit work to be thoroughly enjoyed; perhaps envied. A saltwater fishing instructor for the past eight summers and striped bass guide for two decades validates my place alongside other Portland Watermen.

  Few locations along Maine's more than 5,000 miles of coastline offer the unique angling opportunities presented by these waters. Just outside the working waterfront, half a dozen islands act as buffers, holding back or diffusing the incoming ocean. Even during the strongest gales these islands present anglers with fairly calm waters and miles of Striped bass, mackerel and bluefish habitat.

  Casco Bay actually stretches for dozens of miles northward, from the City of Portland to Freeport, the home of one the largest outdoor sports retailers in America, L.L. Bean. Some still refer to Casco Bay as the "Calendar Islands" because of the 365 islands in the bay. Some dispute the numbers but who cares. It simply means there are at least 365 different places to find migrating bass and bluefish. What more can we ask for than a different island to cast around for each day of the year?

  Actually, fishing Portland Harbor and Casco Bay, to me, is like going to one of my favorite restaurants. Each time I walk through the door, my plan is to try something different on the menu, but, when the time comes, I stick to my favorite meal. Without a doubt, there are honey holes along those islands and waterways even more productive than the ones I keep returning to, but long ago I learned it is never wise to leave fish in search of other fish.

  The jumping off place for entry into the Harbor and surrounding islands is the modern double ramp located near downtown, on Portland's Eastern Promenade. Boaters are charged a nominal fee ($6.00) but they are afforded the luxury of launching out of the wind and tides, and there is ample parking for over 100 tow vehicles and trailers.

  Due to the large vessel wakes and the obvious close proximity to the open ocean, boats under 14-feet are just not practical, although I've seen anglers using sea kayaks. That brings to mind the old anglers claim that, "a man with a fishing rod and a tin boat can own the world."

  Newcomers to the harbor might want to park alongside the drive down the hill at the Eastern Promenade,(scenic overlook) to scan the rocky shorelines of the many islands laid out below, making mental notes.

  "Look at that big rock right to the east of Mackworth Island. (Halfway Rock) A closer look through binoculars shows a couple dozen harbor seals basking in the sun. Experience has shown that where seals congregate, schools of baitfish, particularly tinker mackerel also congregate. This is a place worth checking out."

  In fact, standing on the Promenade with a harbor chart in hand, the whole vista looks, well, just plain "fishy." Without a doubt an angler will need a game plan to keep from skipping around, all over the bay.

  "If I were a striped bass, where would I set up on the incoming tide?" anglers might think to themselves. "Take note of that place, over to the West, where the Presumpscot River flows over broad mussel beds. Surely a school of stripers would be drawn by the wash of the incoming tide over those beds, especially as they clash with the outgoing river flow."

  Just as the tides cover the flats and the outgoing river flow sets up a terrific rip, and the bass and blues congregate for the feast. Mixed in with the bunker and silversides are tinker mackerel and small (harbor) Pollock.

  After many hours and sore casting muscles, I have learned that the outgoing tide is even better as the bass follow the silversides and bunker downriver and ambush them as the receding water traps the bait against the river channel and the mussel flats.

  As with any diverse body of water, Portland Harbor anglers need to take plenty of notes and be willing to move with the incoming and outgoing schools of striped bass, bluefish and mackerel. There is so much moving water in the area, fish will seldom take up permanent residence.

  On a typical day, armed with light spinning and fly rods, my trip is timed to be on the hotspots between two hours before a high or low tide and remain there until at least two hours past the tide.

  Of course, when fly-rodding for stripers and blues, the low tides are the most productive, especially in the Presumpscot River, when the mussel flats are partially exposed. The word "flat" really is a misnomer as the ocean bottom at the mouth of the river is really more of a "delta," with hills and gullies carved by the opposing tide and river currents.

  I hate to get saltwater on my freshwater trolling motor, but a good rinse at the end of the day will cut back on the corrosion. The trolling motor allows me to keep the casting deck pointed at the quarter acre rips that set up and dissipate in minutes throughout the delta. Bass by the dozens will dart in and out of those tiny rips, moving upstream on the incoming and downstream on the reverse tides.

  The same action occurs between the islands surrounding Portland Harbor. One of my favorites is the gut between Big Diamond Island and Cow Island. On the incoming tide, the tiny channel speeds up like a river and the bass stack up like cordwood with their noses pressed into the current, like salmon. Even novice fly-rodders can handle this kind of action.

  Actually, salmon angling in the Maritimes has taught me the value of using enough rod to bring a fish to hand (I don't use nets) in a couple of minutes. Too often I see anglers out there with tiny little trout rods, enjoying the so-called thrill of a long battle. In reality, I feel they are doing more harm (stress) to the bass, especially. My preference is at least an 8-weight rod and lines, and more often a 9-weight rod with a floating 10-weight line with a fast sinking tip.

  All an angler needs to accomplish is to lay the line out 10-15 yards,at a 45 degree angle, let the fly arc down through the water column, waver in the current for ten seconds and hitch up a foot or so and repeat the action, covering the entire rip. I save the fancy fly-flinging for the close-in island shoreline casting.

  It doesn't really matter if the bait is a Clouser Minnow, Deciever, big grocery fly, or cut baits, what matters is to get the bait down into the strike zone of the fish.

  Cut bait or chunked mackerel or Pollock is by far the most productive bait on the Maine coastline. Some argue that seaworms are top, but I avoid the worms (and trolling tubes) because the fish tend to swallow the baits too deeply.

  When it comes to bait-flinging, I cut mackerel chunks to an inch or two and impale the chunk on a 6/0 or 7/0 Tru-Turn hook with the barb pinched down or filed off. I despise circle hooks and I defy anyone to prove my hooking system kills any more fish than fly-rodders who play a fish to exhaustion.

  Unlike nighttime live bait angling, I encourage clients to watch the line constantly and set the hook the instant the line comes tight. The bass will have already swallowed the bait and hook but the tug will cause them to cough it back up, with the hook set being in the roof of the mouth or corner. On slower hook-sets, the point may lodge behind the "tongue" but being barbless, are easy to extract.

  Either bait or fly-casting to the rocks and ledges surrounding islands is something anglers need to practice. Again, I prefer to get in close,(10 yards or less) and the outgoing tides present the greatest opportunity since the wave action is sucking the boat seaward instead of into the rock face.

  Bass, especially the larger ones will ride the wave right up to the ledge, in the white froth just as the wave breaks, then vacuum up seaworms, eels and crabs as they become dislodged by the wave action.

  Tossing a Clouser Minnow or Deceiver to a point where it almost gets snagged in the seaweed on the shoreline takes practice. Allowing it to sink to the level of the bass takes nerves of steel and more times than not, the angler will set the hook on a big string of Kelp.

  Tossing bait chunks is less risky and my preference is to use only the bait, without added weight. In deeper water and in the rivers, a bottom finder or fish-finder rig is helpful, using a slider rig above a good quality swivel, then a 6/0 or 7/0 barbless, Tru-Turn hook. Bass can feel the slightest weight and can spit baits faster than we can blink an eye.

  I mentioned a game plan and each day I go to the Weather Channel, www.weatherchannel.com for the inland and marine forecast and tide schedule. It makes no difference if I'm fishing for myself and friends or taking a client or fishing school out for the day. I cover the bases with both bait and fly-rodding options. A man who acts as his own lawyer is a fool and an angler who limits his methods to bait or flies is missing what he came for - action. A tug on the line is a tug on the line and I encourage anglers to not let their egos override their enjoyment of angling.

  Maine has a liberal bag limit for those who enjoy fresh fish on the table. Anglers may keep one striped bass between 20-26 inches or one bass over 40-inches per day. Because Portland Harbor is a deep-water port, there are a lot of small Pollock around. Maine law allows recreational anglers to keep six fish per person, per day, under 19-inches and unlimited numbers of Pollock over 19 inches (which is rare close to shore.) Bluefish anglers may take three (3) fish per day, any size, per person, per day.

  On any given day I head out to collect the bait first. In Portland Harbor, the most reliable bait-gathering options are the Cow Island Ledge, situated a few hundred yards west of the northern tip of Cow Island, and Whitehead Passage, on the outside edge of Cushing Island, across from Spring Point Lighthouse. If Cow Island ledge were on land it would be called a "monadnock" or small pointed mountain in the middle of a flat plain.

  Cow Island Ledge is a hump (marked with a large, permanent cement bouy) that faces the incoming ocean at the end of Hussey Sound. This is the first place fish of all description make a rest and feeding stop. Mackerel by the thousands can be taken on any given day on any tide.

  My freezer is stocked with quart containers of ground fish chum, made by a local tackle shop. Dropped, still frozen into a mesh laundry bag, the chum will dispense at a good rate, attracting mackerel in minutes.

  Boating a couple dozen fresh mackerel can make the difference between small bass or bluefish and trophies. Most often I use the bait dead, but on days that we target trophies I run the live well.

  The waters alongside the high ledges at Whitehead Passage are prime for collecting mackerel and Pollock and is a great place for trophy-sized bass and bluefish. The bottom adjacent to the ledges is fine sand and anchoring is difficult. I prefer to drift and although it takes more effort, the big bass that stop by this feeding station are a fitting reward.

  On the mussel flats, at low tide, just before the water begins to come back in, I utilize my abundance of bait by making a sweeping circle, tossing out chunks of mackerel, then anchor in the middle of the circle and wait for the fish to arrive.

  In the river I toss mackerel chunk half a mile upstream the anchor downstream at a point where the river flow deposits most of the chunks.

  Who knows why anglers are not elbow-to-elbow in Portland Harbor and the southern Casco Bay islands. Perhaps anglers are intimidated by the downtown location or the threat of "big" waters. Neither should be a deterrent and the ease in which traveling anglers can access these fertile waters is astounding. Just an hour north of the New Hampshire border via Interstate 95 and the Maine Turnpike, anglers can head out from most New England towns and be on the water at prime time and be home for dinner.

  These waters are "tailor-made" for long weekend outings, and although I don't normally give up secrets, the Maine Mall and over 500 shops and factory outlets are eager to keep the family busy while anglers spend the day on the water.

  Just down the turnpike a few miles is Old Orchard Beach and ten miles of fine sand and amusement parks. But, don't overlook the outstanding nighttime casting into the surf. Maine isn't nicknamed "Vactionland" without good reason. Southern Maine beaches and amusements may be the gateway to Maine, but Portland Harbor, for sure is the hub of saltwater angling.