Kayak fishing on Long Island: Why anglers love it and how to get started

As Dave Cisek silently glides along the rivers and streams of Long Island in his kayak, he never knows what will greet him.

One day there may be crabs skittering below him, another day striped bass might be playing cat and mouse with schools of bunker. He might spy an osprey or bald eagle diving for a meal, while herons, egrets, deer and foxes pass by along the shore.

“On a quiet, still morning, a mysterious fog might hang just above the water, making it truly a surreal experience — all this, and you might even ice some tasty filets,” the lifelong angler said.

Cisek, 27, of West Babylon, is one of the many Long Islanders who have discovered the joys of kayak fishing, which saw a surge in popularity during the pandemic as people searched for ways to spend more time in the great outdoors. Online, the Kayak Fishing Long Island Facebook group has more than 2,300 members, with anglers posting photos of their catches, seeking fishing and kayak access advice and selling gear. YouTube videos of people kayak fishing, especially on the Long Island Sound, have hundreds of views.

And while many traditional fishing groups across the country have seen a decrease in membership in recent years, Mark Fehner, tournament director for the Long Island chapter of Kayak Bass Fishing, said his group has seen its numbers rise. Nationally, membership has grown about 150%, from 7,900 in 2018 to 12,178 today. His chapter, which represents anglers throughout the tri-state area and runs several fishing contests annually, now has 45 members, up from 15 in 2016

Compared to fishing from a motorboat, enthusiasts say casting from a kayak is cheaper and more convenient. The shallow draft and quiet approach of a kayak also allows anglers to sneak up on their catch more easily.

Kayak fishing fans come to the sport for a variety of reasons, said Fehner, 35, a bowling pinsetter technician/mechanic from Manorville who said he enjoys the thrill of fishing competitively. “Some are serious about the tournaments and competition. Others are happy to meet up with like-minded people and learn from experienced members or enjoy the camaraderie, social media banter and communing with nature.”

Mike Fehling, owner of Empire Kayaks in Island Park, agreed.

“Kayak fishing is relaxing, fun and productive,” said Fehling, 64. Kayakers, he noted, can reach places that are too shallow for boats. They can also easily cast to fish that are out of range for shore-bound anglers.

“There is so much easy access to beautiful places here on Long Island that the possibilities seem endless,” he said.

JUST OUT OF REACH

Cisek, a marketing agency director, said he grew up casting and clamming with his family on the Island’s South Shore. His grandfather, Neil Faulkner, is one of the area’s pioneer custom rod builders and was a popular party boat captain before retiring a decade ago.

“I started out fishing in freshwater but enjoyed cooking my catch, so I switched to surf fishing for about 10 years,” Cisek said.

While he had some good days casting in the surf, the fish were often just out of reach, he said. One day, he decided to give his dad’s old kayak a try and instantly fell in love with the sport.

Cisek said he enjoys catching striped bass, colloquially known as stripers, in the waters around the Nissequogue River in Smithtown. Some can be as large as 30 pounds, he said.

“Stripers feed around bunker pods, which I approach silently and without spooking in my kayak,” he said. “That stealth aspect is huge in this kind of fishing.”

Another benefit is spending time in nature, said Cisek, an amateur wildlife photographer. “I love being at eye level with the birds, deer and other wildlife I might encounter . . . You don’t feel so much like you are watching nature as that you are part of nature when you head out in a kayak.”

THRILL OF THE HUNT

Ramon Jimenez, 51, a restaurant manager from Brentwood, took a nearly opposite route from Cisek. He said he started fishing in saltwater before taking up kayaking in freshwater. “I find the calmer lake waters well-suited to my style,” he said.

Jimenez said he also enjoys the serenity that kayaking affords — but what really excites him is the thrill of the hunt. Jimenez, who started a bass fishing Facebook group called The Quest for a Trophy, said catching largemouth bass is his specialty and that this year he has already caught and released several bass weighing five pounds or more.

His kayak, he said, allows him to get closer to “educated lunkers” — angler-speak for big fish that have seen enough fishing to know what to avoid.

Unlike Fehner, Jimenez said he doesn’t fish in tournaments, preferring to compete with himself and trying to top his personal best: A largemouth weighing 7 pounds. His Facebook group, he said, is designed to bring together anglers intent on catching bigger bass.

“Most local bass weigh a pound or two,” Jimenez said. “I want my page followers to catch their first 5-pounder, a weight that unofficially separates ‘typical’ largemouth bass from trophy status in our region.”

He often posts photos of the big fish he catches and shows the lures he used. But like many serious anglers with a social media presence, he avoids posting photos that identify specific places, so as not to attract more people to any particular body of water.

Another local largemouth expert is Eric Fieldstadt, 69, of Medford. Fieldstadt, who keeps meticulous records of his more impressive catches, claims to have caught and released more than 50 largemouth bass exceeding five pounds in the past 50 years.

He said he turned to kayaking as he got older. “Age is what got me into kayak fishing,” the retired supermarket seafood manager said.

His sit-in, paddle-style kayak weighs 60 pounds — light enough that he can transport it easily.

“I can carry it to the water’s edge with one arm,” Fieldstadt said. “It doesn’t need a trailer like some of the new, heavier models. Being lightweight is a key feature to someone my age.”

Even for this serious angler, however, the allure of nature is the real draw for a kayak approach. “I see fascinating stuff on the water every day, and I’m big on taking photos of wildlife,” he said. “My kayak pulls triple-duty: It allows me to fish, shoot photos and enjoy nature. Just as much as I like to cast, I love spending time paddling and checking out scenery and wildlife with my wife.” 

CLASS GOT HER HOOKED

Darlene Colonna, 52, is also a recent convert to kayaking. The Halesite resident, who said she got her love of nature from her father, had long been a hunter, charter boat angler and “outdoors woman type of person.” She had never owned a boat or kayak, however, until she enrolled in the state Department of Environmental Conservation’s Becoming an Outdoors-Woman program five years ago.

“There was a kayaking course involved, which I loved,” she recalled. “At some point, an instructor mentioned you can fish from a kayak, too.” In short order, Colonna said she purchased a used 10-foot kayak, reserved a rack spot — a place to store her kayak — at nearby Fleets Cove Beach on Northport Bay and launched her kayak fishing career.

“Bluefish are my favorite target because they fight so hard,” she said.

On the water, Colonna can sit back and enjoy the scenery, from the wildlife around her to the beautiful sunsets.

“It’s fantastic,” she said. “I love every aspect of getting out on the water, but the nature connection is the biggest draw.”

EXPLORING JAMAICA BAY

A release from the pressures of work and daily life is how Stan “Rusty” Steen, 52, of Brooklyn, characterized his kayak fishing adventures, most of which take place on Jamaica Bay, where there are generous bluefish and striper flats — shallow water — to explore.

“Kayak fishing is a great way to get away from it all,” said Steen, Central Park’s director of film and special events. “I especially love fly-fishing. I take my kayak out, launch it where I think the fish might be and within minutes I’m on the water, alone and surrounded by nature.”

Steen said he refuses to use a fish finder, a device that transmits ultrasonic waves to determine variables like water depth, distribution of a fish school and the condition of the seabed.

“Paying too much attention to your electronics can cause you to miss a lot of the real life you might see on these trips,” he said.

The angler said he has hooked stripers up to 43 inches long from as little as 20 feet away.

“What an incredible feeling to watch a strike and set the hook on a big fish from a simple kayak — all while relaxing!” he said. “I’m hooked for life.”