Fishing with Captain Andy: Stories, Secrets, and the Best Damn Time You’ll Have on the Water

Hey there, fellow angler—or soon-to-be angler, if I’ve got anything to say about it. Name’s Andy Skrivanich, but most folks just call me Captain Andy. Been guiding and teaching fishing here in Mid-Coast Maine for over 20 years now, and let me tell ya, there’s nothin’ like watching someone’s face light up when they land their first striper or outsmart a wily smallmouth.

Now, if you’re thinkin’ Maine’s just lobsters and lighthouses, you’re missin’ out. Between the tidal rivers, hidden ponds, and that sweet, sweet saltwater action, this place is a fisherman’s paradise. Stripers? Oh yeah, they stack up like cordwood around here come June. And don’t get me started on the smallmouth bass—my personal obsession. There’s a stretch of the St. George River near Warren that’s practically my second home. Early mornings, mist rising off the water, topwater poppers getting hammered… man, it doesn’t get better.

But here’s the thing—fishing’s not just about the fish. It’s about the how. That’s where I come in. Maybe you’ve never held a rod before, or maybe you’re the type who ties your own flies at 2 AM (we’d get along). Either way, I’ll meet you where you’re at. Beginners, we’ll start with the basics: how to cast without hooking your hat (done it), why certain knots matter (ever lost a trophy because of a bad clinch? Oof), and how to read water like it’s telling you secrets. For you seasoned folks? Let’s talk tide shifts, moon phases, or that one weird bluegill fly pattern that inexplicably slays trout here.

And hey—I run a relaxed ship. My boat’s stocked with decent gear (none of that bargain-bin stuff), cold drinks, and probably some pretzels crushed at the bottom of the cooler. You’re gonna work up a thirst fighting fish, and I’ve learned the hard way that hangry anglers catch fewer fish.

Look, fishing’s unpredictable. Some days the stripers are on fire; other days you’ll swear they’ve all packed up and moved to Canada. But that’s the beauty of it. Whether we’re chasing smallmouth in the freshwater honey holes or drifting for stripers where the Penobscot meets the bay, I’ll make sure you leave with stories—even if they start with, “So there we were, getting totally skunked until…”

So grab your lucky hat (or borrow one of mine—I’ve got extras) and let’s get out there. The fish aren’t gonna catch themselves.

—Captain Andy
Maine Outdoor Guides
(Yeah, we’ve got a fancy website, but honestly? Just call me. I’m probably on the water, but I’ll call you back.)