The Fog Bowl of 2025
by Jack Naves
This past December, we experienced an odd weather pattern the likes of which most of us have never seen. For more than three weeks, an inversion layer trapped a blanket of fog over the Central Valley in a weather capsule straight out of science fiction.
The good news was that the menacing Delta winds were at a standstill. On the other hand, the total lack of direct sunlight slowly turned down the dial on water temperatures in a torturous-like manner. I was lucky enough to spend four straight weekends on the California Delta chasing striped bass during the weather event. Not surprisingly, the action ramped down in direct correlation with the plummeting water temperatures.
On Sunday, November 23, Gary and Anthony Mattis joined me on a foggy morning drive to the West Delta. The fog was so thick that I had to slow considerably at the Highway 12/160 interchange to figure out what was going on. Caltrans had Highway 160 closed for pothole repairs, so we crossed the iconic Rio Vista Bridge and meandered over to Sandy Beach, a Solano County park.
After launching the boat in twilight, it was still too foggy to safely run west to my striper hot spot. Instead, we anchored off Sandy Beach for the end of the incoming tide, but nothing was biting. Once it was clear enough, we ran west and set anchor on the outgoing tide soaking chicken livers. It was a slow tide, so rather than waste away for several hours until a bigger tide started, I decided to troll.
We trolled Rat-L-Traps west along weed lines near Sherman Island for three small striped bass including one keeper. I’ve had the Mattises out several times, and it seems like we always hit slow days when we fish together. After struggling all morning, I was thinking it was going to be more of the same, but then the incoming tide started to trickle upriver.
After anchoring in one of my favorite spots near Collinsville on the Sacramento River, some of the other boats around us started picking up stripers on bait. I looked down at my starboard side drift sock; it was barely swinging in the current. “Patience,” I thought to myself. Only moments later, Gary’s rod got slammed and we had another nice keeper in the boat.
As the current ramped up, the bite busted wide open. We had limits in no time and raced back to the cleaning station with striped bass up to eight pounds. The plot unfolded in a classic manner, with early challenges followed by a sudden flurry to end the day in grand fashion. The water temperature during that trip capped out at 58 degrees, but the fog would soon change that.
I made it out with my entire family the following weekend on November 28. We ran to the same spot first thing in the morning, but this time the incoming tide was already flowing at full steam. The current ripped past our anchored boat as we pitched rods armed with chicken livers in every direction. It didn’t take long for the striped bass to find our baits.
This time, the bite was wide open right out of the gate. We limited by ten o’clock on quality six to eight pounder stripers, releasing several others along the way. The water temperature was 56 degrees, and the bite was on fire! After such a momentous day on water, I convinced Jason Carlisle of Elk Grove to join me the very next weekend.
On Saturday, December 6, Jason and I made a late morning start out of Brannon Island State Park. I was trying to avoid the still present fog and slow morning tide. We arrived at around nine o’clock on a small outgoing tide, so I anchored in deep water hoping to catch strong currents. In 33-feet of water, I made my first cast. After about twenty minutes and no bites, I was about to reel in to check my bait when the rod started pumping.
I immediately knew that the fish had my bait, so I slowly started reeling to pick up line and pin the 8/0 circle hook. At first, the rod loaded up soft, but then it pumped violently. It seemed like an average fish until I had it up rear the boat. Suddenly, the fish ripped line off the bait caster and made a dash for the bottom. “This is a nice fish” I remarked to Jason. I was thinking it might even be close to a twenty-pounder.
After more than five minutes, we had the twelve-pounder netted and into the bottom of the boat. The circle hook did a perfect job of hooking the striper in the corner of the mouth, so I revived and released the fish using my grip tool. That fish ended up being our biggest striper of the ‘fog bowl’ period. Jason managed a nice six-pounder on his last cast, wrapping up a slow day of fishing in December’s foggy gloom. The water temperature was down to 53 degrees.
The very next weekend on December 13, I returned to the still-present fog, this time with Mick Berklich of Sacramento. The water temperature was down to 49 degrees – not a good sign! As we feared, it was slow, although we managed three small keepers plus a last-minute Sacramento Pike-Minnow that had us fooled into thinking we had striper limits.
Soon after the trip, a storm system finally blew into Northern California that swept away the persistent fog. Sunlight warmed our faces for the first time in nearly a month. I fished through it all - experiencing Delta striper action that ranged from ice cold to red hot. Those of us who lived through it will likely never forget the Fog Bowl of 2025.
