I thought I would head out in the Predator 13 for a couple of hours to catch two or three winter flounder for dinner. That's usually all it takes this time of year. May and June are the best months for flounder since they are in almost all of New Hampshire's harbors this time of year and can be caught in as little as four feet of water.
My morning began just after sun-up with a light breeze, perfect for drifting. I began in a well-known hot spot and drifted all my usual go-to areas...twice. Two hours later and I still hadn't even had a bite. I knew of an area that had a lobster trap and figured I would try that. The bait washing out of lobster trap bait-bags typically holds at least one flounder, if not more. I paddled to the area and on the first drop pulled up a short 6" flounder. A couple more drifts and I landed what would be the biggest of the trip, a nice 16" blackback.
Several more drifts and I realized I wasn't going to be so lucky again so I headed back to the main part of the harbor and made several more drifts. By this time the tide had changed and I was hoping it would turn the fish on, but I would have no such luck. The fish just weren't there.
Determined to bring home dinner I paddled back to shore and loaded up to head for another spot that wasn't usually as good, but got very little pressure. Take two and I was on the water drifting a large mooring field. Again, two hours without a bite. I couldn't figure out what was going on. The time of year and water temperature were perfect, and the water clarity was as good as it gets. I had spent a total of five hours on the water with only one fish to show for it.
Admitting defeat, I decided that I would make one last drift back toward the launch and pack it in. Within seconds I felt the infamous double tap of a flounder. I gave it a second to "climb on" and slowly set the hook. I could tell by the fight that it was definitely a keeper (New Hampshire and Maine have a 12" minimum length) and I was excited to know that I wouldn't have to stretch the one fish to make a meal for two. I landed the fish, got it on my stringer, and continued my drift. It wasn't long before I felt the weight of a fish that whacked my bait without hesitation. It wasn't a huge fish, but it was another keeper.
My whole trip had just turned around with a bonus fish. Feeling lucky I continued drifting across the harbor toward the launch. I was preoccupied putting some of my gear away and when I looked at my rod I could see it was carrying weight. It looked like sea weed, but once I began reeling it in I realized there was another respectable fish on my line. I would go home with a meal fit for a king or in fact, two meals. Six hours of fishing and the last hour produced the most fish. I guess it's a good thing I didn't quit early.