This is where I'll post random thoughts on fly fishing, occasional writing blurbs in progress that are unedited and unrefined, and even some photos that I especially like (which will also get posted on one of the Photos pages). I'll also post a notice here when I update a portion of the site (if you want to receive web site update emails (approx 1 per month) send me an email). This certainly won't be a daily blog, I don't have that much to say. However, unlike many blogs that post every day just to post, most of the times that I post I'll actually have something to say. I know, strange concept. The most recent posts are at the top, scroll down for older posts.

7/13/08

Another piece posted for your reading pleasure.

7/6/08
I've posted a new story based on a bonefish fishing trip many years ago.

A couple images from a recent day chasing tarpon.

6/21/08
Wow, it's been way too long since I've posted anything. I guess it really has been that busy. Plus, I have to admit, it's tarpon season, so if/when I do get time I spend it chasing those big silver fish. I haven't added anything to the photos section, it's all here on the blog. Maybe when things slow down this Fall I'll shift the new photos to their appropriate pages. Here's what's new for the June update:

Photos of tailing redfish
Grand Bahama Island bonefish
Choosing a kayak for fly fishing
Blabbing

Below are photos from recent on-the-water excursions. My favorites are the photos of tailing redfish at sunset, but I'm still not sure which of the tailing redfish photos I like the best. Do you have a favorite?

I think the next one is my favorite

I just returned from a week on Grand Bahama Island, on a trip sponsored by Orvis Travel. Jason Elkins, head of Orvis Travel, put together a trip to benefit the non-profit conservation group Bonefish & Tarpon Unlimited. Some photos from that trip are below.

Sometimes it's a good idea to get out of the boat and wade.

Dark bottom, dark fish,...dark flies too

View from the bow

I like this one - you can see the barring on the fish's back.

On the trip I used an Orvis Helios 8wt rod. The rod cast very well, so much so that I overshot a number of fish.
Not a bad problem to have.

Tom Rosenbaur, of Orvis, searching for bones

I put together some thoughts on choosing a kayak for fly fishing. I frequently have people ask me about how and why I chose my kayak (A Bimini, by Perception), so this piece is a summary of the types of things I thought about when choosing a kayak.
Selecting a kayak for fishing
I am not an expert on kayaks. I did put a lot of thought into purchasing a kayak a number of years ago, and I am often asked about kayak selection criteria. I’ve fished a lot from my kayak, and have determined that some of my initial criteria were good, others not so good. The first step in the process is to determine what kind of fishing you will be doing from your kayak. If you’re out in California and paddling out to fish the kelp beds, I can’t really provide any useful information. If you’re interested in fishing coastal shallows, the information below should be useful. I use my kayak to fish shallow saltwater flats (and occasionally freshwater ponds and lakes). Here are the questions to answer when selecting a kayak:

- What distances do you intend to paddle? I typically paddle away from the launch point for a while (20 minutes is typical) before starting to fish. I do this because I don’t like to fish around areas with boating/kayak traffic, and to get to areas that receive less pressure. Why is this important? The longer distance you typically paddle, the longer and more streamlined you want your kayak to be. If, as you paddle, the kayak’s bow swings from side to side, you are wasting a lot of paddling effort. In general, the longer the kayak the more your paddling effort goes toward pushing the kayak forward (less wasted energy). I’ve fished with friends who have shorter kayaks, and if we paddle a moderate distance to and from the launch point they are typically more tired than I am at the end of the day.

- Do you intend to stand to fish? I often will stand in my kayak, using the paddle as a push pole, This is a great, stealthy way to sight fish for redfish and snook that are laid up on shallow sand flats. Many kayaks are stable enough that they are pretty easy to stand up in. For other kayaks you need to rig or purchase an outrigger system that makes the kayak more stable. Although I am able to stand in my kayak, it’s only barely stable enough, so I made a small, detachable outrigger system with PVC pipe and Styrofoam floats. The materials cost less than $20.

- Do you plan to fish in areas where kayak position is important? For example, do you think you’ll be fishing along shorelines, or casting to cover along shorelines? I fish a lot along mangrove shorelines, casting into the cover provided by the mangrove branches that hang over the water. It’s important for me to keep the kayak in the correct position relative to shore (the correct distance, the kayak parallel to the shoreline). To control position, when I purchased the kayak I had the shop install a rudder that I can raise and lower. Using the foot pedal controls, I can steer the kayak left or right as needed. If I can get a drift going with the wind and/or current, I can stay parallel to shore at the desired distance. The rudder also helps to keep course when paddling in windy conditions. If it’s not windy, I usually paddle with the rudder in the up position because the rudder does create noticeable drag. If you fish in situations where you are casting to open areas or drifting across open areas, then a rudder is probably not necessary.

- Does the kayak contain sufficient dry storage space? My kayak has two hatch covers that provide access to plenty of space to store things I don’t want stored on the surface. I still put need-to-stay-dry things in dry bags, but storing them in the kayak is a grat way to make sure they stay dry and to keep the items out of the way. Dry storage space is also great if you plan to make longer trips and for keeping water containers out of the sun. If you only do short trips in fair weather, then dry storage is probably not that important.

- Does the kayak have sufficient topside storage space, and is the space easily accessible from your seat? How much gear do you need access to while fishing? Is there a place where you can mount a rod holder that is within easy reach from your seat? Will this rod holder location be in the way of fly fishing (will it entangle fly line)? Most kayaks have topside storage wells behind the seat. Make sure the well is large enough to hold what you need, and that you can reach it from your seat. (In most kayaks, the dry storage hatches are not easily reachable from the seat, and require stepping out of the kayak in shallow water or beaching the kayak to get access.)

Is the deck of the kayak immediately in front of the seat clear of things that will catch a fly line? While this can be overcome somewhat by spreading a towel across your lap and the adjacent deck area, you'll occasionally forget the towel, so a clear deck for fly line is essential.

- How heavy a kayak will you be able to lift onto your kayak rack or into the back of the pickup, etc? The biggest drawback to my kayak is that it’s heavy (65 pounds, I believe), so not the easiest to get onto the racks on my truck at the end of the day. I do have rollers on the back rack, so I lift one end onto the rollers and then push the kayak up from the other end.

- What kind of launch locations will you primarily be using? Easy, shallow-sloping shorelines close to parking or loading/unloading places are the best case scenario. In these cases, heavier kayaks are no big deal. But if you have to carry your kayak any distance or launch off rocky or steep shorelines, a lighter kayak is advantageous. In general, you’ll pay more for a lighter kayak. If you have more than a short distance from the loading to launch location, it may be worthwhile to purchase a set of wheels, available at most kayak shops.

- Might you fish in windy conditions? If so, avoid kayaks with high bows. A friend has a nice kayak, but the bow is a bit high and he has a tough time keeping course on windy days.

Other thoughts:

- Get the lightest, best paddle you can afford. It makes a huge difference during a long day of fishing and paddling. - Get as good a seat as you can afford. Many hours of sitting in a kayak can wear you out if the seat is not good quality. Good back support and some cushioning are desired. - On the paddling stroke, remember that you are pushing with your upper hand as much as you are pulling with your lower hand, with the center of the paddle handle as the central point of rotation. If you just pull with the lower arm, you don’t get as much power and you’ll tire out faster. - I use a 4 foot section of ½” PVC as an anchor when fishing shallow water. Just shove one end into the bottom and slip a loop of line attached to the kayak over the pole.

Blabbing
Although, as would many (most) fly anglers, I prefer to have fishing spots to myself, I know that this is a rare occurrence, so I'll willingly share a spot with respectful anglers. However, I strongly believe that an angler should have to work to find a fishing spot. Why? I think that an angler who does the investigative work to find a good fishing spot (the location, best tides, best approach, etc) has an appreciation for the location and the fish that can only be gained from working to find the spot. In contrast, I think that anglers who are given a spot tend to show little (bordering on extreme) lack of respect for the spot and the fish, not to mention the other anglers who might be there. More and more, I'm seeing the latter types of anglers - interested in making a score in the least amount of time. What I call the Disneyfication of fishing - drive/boat/walk to the spot, fish, go home. No thought of ethics, responsibility, respect for other anglers.... Unfortunately, although the WWW can be a great source of information for the investigative angler, it's becoming more and more common to find way-too-explicit 'kiss and tell' fishing reports on internet fishing discussion boards. I already have the dubious distinction of having two great fishing places ruined by the kiss-and-tell crowd - one redfish spot and one tarpon spot. In both instances, the fishing prior to the internet kiss-and-tell reports was outstanding. Although the fish are still in these locations (albeit in lower numbers), their behavior has changed - they are now wary and generally unreceptive to fly presentations. An angler new to the spot might think the fishing is fabulous, but I can tell you without hesitation that, in comparison, the fishing in these spots now sucks. I know others with similar experiences. I really don't understand the desire to kiss-and-tell, but in the end I think it's irresponsible.

I've recently noticed some anglers are trying to throw 'lurkers' off the scent by using code words to describe locations (presumably to tell their 'in the know' buddies where they were fishing. But the photos they typically post with the fishing reports show enough background that any boob with even a basic knowledge of the area can figure out the location (and the fishing report posters typically post their home fishing areas). Two suggestions to these guys - just email your 'in the know' buddies directly, and if you really must post reports, take a closer look at the photos before posting (and change the background if you must post photos.

I'm sure this posting will tick off some, and I can live with that. What it comes down to is this - I'm trying to promote a responsible fishing ethic for the long-term good of the sport, and I'm losing patience with people who don't respect the fishery, the fish, the habitats, or their fellow anglers. I'll go on forever about the fish, their habitats, their prey, how to present flies, etc (as this web site proves) but I'll never give up spots. And neither should you.

5/4/08
Around the World and Kicked in the Teeth
Well, not literally, but it sure felt like it at the end of the day. Doug and I covered a lot of water yesterday in search of tarpon, and were skunked. We didn't even have any shots at fish. We traveled so much because of a mixture of no fish and poor water conditions. Early on, we poled about 4 miles of great water, expecting to see strings of fish along the edge at any time, but we didn't see a single fish. I figured we'd find fish if we kept moving, so we spent the rest of the day running from spot to spot, often finding very murky and/or green water, impossible to sight fish. At one spot we did see a few rolling fish, but they were scattered, not staying up, in deep water, and the water was murky. So in the end, we saw fish in two spots, but it was way too murky in each of those spots, and the spots we found with good visibilty were empty of fish. We ran about 60 miles (not including poling). To add salt to the wound, on the way back we had to run quartering into a strong chop and stiff breeze, and Doug was on the bad side of the boat and got soaked. The positive was that we did all that running on only one tank of gas (6 gallons), and there's still a few miles left in the tank. Chalk that up to a light boat (Mitzi 15) and a 4-stroke (40hp Yamama). We ended the day drowning our sorrows in beers and fish sandwiches at a local watering hole.

5/4/08

Dawn

Photo taken during a recent dawn patrol for tarpon. Slow morning, only 2 small groups of tarpon spotted, two decent shots, no eaters.

The Flasher

I assume this Great Blue Heron was warming himself up and/or drying off. But it's a pretty good imitation of a flasher in a trench coat.

Updates, April 29, 2008
New photos have been added. I’ve changed the format a bit – as I add new photos, I’ll put them on the ‘New Photos’ page. How’s that for original? Then next cycle I’ll move the photos to their appropriate subject pages, and replace them with new photos. To see the new photos of this site update, go here.

A few new blog posts have been added below.

A link to the Best Practices for Bonefish Catch and Release brochure, recently put out by Bonefish & Tarpon Unlimited, have been added to the Conservation page.

A new piece on bonefish research.

April 28, 2008
Bonefishing, South Andros
I recently returned from a week-long trip to South Andros, The Bahamas. Nice place – quiet, expansive sand flats and beaches, and excellent bonefish fishing. I stayed at the Andros South lodge (formerly known as the Bonefish Bay Club). Travel details – Lynx Air from Fort Lauderdale to Congo Town, a 15 minute cab ride to the lodge. Each morning, we took a 10 minute van ride to Little Creek, where we were picked up by the flats boats. It was then a 45 minute run either south or west to the flats. All of the flats we fished were wadeable, which was nice. We also poled some shoreline edges, where we generally saw the largest fish. Overall, the bonefish averaged 3 pounds, with plenty of fish 4 – 6 pounds. My largest for the week was approximately 8-9 pounds. I averaged 10 bonefish/day. Did some fly fishing for sharks and barracuda, too. Poppers on a 10 weight for those toothy beasts.

So why was I down in South Andros? As part of my research for Bonefish & Tarpon Unlimited (BTU). I was down at the invitation of the lodge owners to sample some of the bonefish. I took fin clips from approximately 40 bonefish, and had some great conversations with the guides on topics such as – where do bonefish spawn, what habitats are used by juvenile bonefish, and why do bonefish grow faster in the Florida Keys than they do in The Bahamas and Caribbean (all of those topics are being addressed in research projects being supported by BTU).

Why fin clips from bonefish? At one point, it was believed only one species of bonefish (Albula vulpes) swam the Caribbean flats. Using genetic analysis, researchers have identified 3 species of bonefish on the flats. Unfortunately, we’re unable to tell them apart physically, so we have to use genetics to figure it out. So I cut small (1/4”) triangles of soft tissue from the rear of the dorsal, pectoral, or pelvic fin, and place them in small vials containing a preservative, then ship the samples off to a graduate student working on this for her Ph.D. PHOTO ppt slide So far, >96% of bonefish caught by recreational anglers (BTU sends fin clip kits with recreational anglers willing to participate in the program, let me know if you’re interested) have been identified as Albula vulpes, the species we’ve always known was there. The two other species have been recorded in Mexico, The Bahamas, U.S. Virgin Islands, Florida, and Belize.

April 27, 2008
It’s Tarpon season
The picture below is from a recent dawn patrol. Although there is a lot to be said for sight-fishing for cruising or laid-up tarpon during hours of high sun, there’s something about casting to rolling tarpon at dawn that makes my hair stand on end. There are considerably fewer boats on the water. It varies by day, of course, but it’s reasonable to get an hour or two alone at dawn. There’s no sight quite like the slick, pewter-colored water surface of dawn being broken by the dark back of a rolling tarpon, sometimes with the burnt orange glow of sunrise glistening off the large scales. Or the ‘bloop’ of a rolling fish unseen breaking the silence, instigating a quick backcast at an empty hole in the water. Plus, I’m only able to get out once a week for sight fishing for tarpon in high sun, but I’m able to get out many mornings before work during the week. The photo below I call ‘Waiting’, and is from a recent morning in Key Largo with Captain Steve Venini.

April 26, 2008
Another memory from the field While working as a graduate student at Virginia Institute of Marine Science, I crewed on a boat out of Virginia Beach that did recreational SCUBA and fishing trips (and some commercial hook and line, as well) to offshore artificial reefs. One summer I took the ride when they ran the boat from Virginia Beach to the Outer Banks. They ran the boat out of the Outer Banks for a month. Change of scenery. Rather than run straight down the coast, we took a couple days to take roundabout route out into blue water. On the way down we fished whenever we came across active fish or something floating that held fish. In addition to the fishing, the Captain wanted to check out a couple spots he’d marked on a previous trip as possible dive sites. The first spot we stopped was about 120’ depth. The water was pretty clear, so we could see the dark shape on the bottom that was the wreck. What wreck, I don’t remember, but the area off Cape Hatteras is full of shipwrecks. The captain dropped the anchor in the sand next to the wreck, and we geared up and jumped in the water. I was the second one down the anchor line. About two-thirds of the way down, I noticed that the first guy down the rope had stopped at the bottom and was coming back up. I thought he had gear problems, but when we met about 15’ from the bottom, he pointed toward the dark shadow of the wreck, and I immediately saw what concerned him – three very large lemon sharks emerging from the shadow of the wreck, swinging their heads side-to-side, humping their backs. Very aggressive territorial behavior. We headed back up the anchor line, keeping our eyes on the sharks the entire time, our spearguns pointed in their direction. As we made our way up the line, another diver was on his way down, speargun loaded and ready. He hadn’t yet seen the sharks. We made a signal that sharks were on the wreck, but he pretty much ignored us and headed down the anchor line. As we headed up, we watched as he got to the bottom. The sharks had stopped midway between the wreck and anchor line when we started back up, but came all the way over to the line when the third diver got to the bottom. As we hung on the anchor line at about 15’ depth, we watched the third diver make his way back up the anchor line, turning slowly to face a shark that circled 20’ away as the diver made his way up the anchor line. The shark broke off the stalk at about 60’ depth, and headed back to the reef. We pulled anchor and found another spot to dive.

4/6/08
Here's another memory (two actually) from sampling in the field. Both have to do with angry mullet. When living on St. Croix, USVI, one of the projects we had involved sampling mangrove lagoons for juvenile fish. One lagoon was very shallow, and mucky in some places. We were unable to do visual sampling because it was so shallow and murky, so we used seine nets instead. We'd occasionally get small mullet in the samples. These and other fish we would measure and release. As you know if you've ever been in a place that has mullet, when they're startled they often jump. Usually this isn;t a problem, but one morning a mullet must've been very poor at jumping or was just plain mad - it leaped from the water, cleared the net, and hit me square in the right temple. Nearly knocked me out. And it wasn't even that big of a fish. I hope the fish had a headache too.

Skip to more than 10 years later, sampling with a seine in mangrove creeks in Florida. A few mullet are trapped in the net, and start jumping to get out. This all goes well until one mullet that must've been a blood relative of the one on St. Croix, leaped from the water, cleared the net, and hit me square in the middle of my chest. It hit so hard that it bounced backward a couple feet and back into the net. Damn thing left a bruise, and I generally don't bruise. Just one of the hazards of marine science.

4/6/08
Should've stayed in bed yesterday, but it's tarpon season, so if there's a chance of finding tarpon there really isn't a choice. The forecast was terrible (winds S at 20, cloudy), but we figured we would have maybe an hour of calm in the morning before the winds picked up. And that proved true. And I remembered to take my coffee with me this time. All good so far. But after we'd launched the boat, as we were pulling away from the ramp, I noticed that my push pole was missing. Somewhere between my house, the gas station, and the boat ramp, the push pole had somehow fallen off the boat. Granted, the trip involves a couple dirt roads, but not so rough to expect to lose a push pole. So we tied off the boat, jumped in the truck, and retraced our steps. No luck. This was looking to be an expensive morning. Then we decided to check with they guy who monitored the county ramp near where we launched. As I leaned out the window to ask him if he'd seen a wayward push pole, he started laughing and pointed at the ground - seems it had popped off the boaton the dirt entrance road. Lucky. Damn lucky. The bad news is that all that searching had cost us more than half of the morning calm, and the tarpon fishing ended up being a bust. We called it quits at 10 rather than fight the 2-3 foot seas.

4/5/08
My posting of a recipe and photos of my version of the Gartside Gurgler (originated by Jack Gartside) inspired Jack to send me a couple photos of the original versions, and the text below. This was great for a couple reasons. First, it's a great example of how a pattern can be changed or personalized by different tiers, and still be very effective. Second, it's great to see that Jack also changes how he ties his flies over time. You can get Jack's instructions on the Gurgler and many other flies at his web site - www.jackgartside.com.

From Jack Gartside: "Although I tie dozens of Gurgler variations with both long and regular shank hooks, the two I'm sending you are what I call "Original-Style," one a long-shank bucktail Gurgler and the other a regular-shank marabou-tailed Gurgler. I rarely tie them up now using grizzly hackle; I much prefer white most of the time."

3/24/08
Stop by the Bonefish & Tarpon Unlimited booth at the Federation of Fly Fishers National Expo, in Lakeland, FL this weekend. That's where I'll be. I'll also give a talk on Sunday afternoon, 3pm.

3/24/08
I updated the site a little early this cycle because things are going to get very busy for me in the next wweek or two. The web site has been updated:
- photos are completely re-organized, and a couple new sections have been added.
- a new story has been added
- new book reviews on Fly Fisherman's Guide to Saltwater Prey have been added
- many new blog posts below, including recent fishing

3/23/08
The best thing about crappy weather is that it keeps people off the water. I am frequently of those people. However, as little fishing as I've done lately, even with a poor forecast for Saturday, I decided to head out anyway. Plus, I didn't believe the forecast - strong winds due to the fact we were between a high pressure and a front moving up from the south, thunderstorms and rain. It started out grey and a little breezy, but not bad. I started pre-dawn, headed to a favorite early spring tarpon spot. It was a little bumpy, but not too bad - I was able to see a couple tarpon roll. I didn't get any shots, and a handful of casts into where I thought the fish was holding got me nothing. I checked out a couple more early season tarpon spots, but saw nothing. By now it was 9am, and it was raining on and off. The few other boats that had been out early were gone. I had many square miles to myself. I drifted some flats on the incoming tide, and caught my fill of spotted seatrout. Then I tucked myself in along a series of leeward mangrove shorelines and sight-fished into mid-afternoon. Yes, even though it was cloudy, raining on and off, skies were dark enough that I was able to sight fish on the light bottom. This is something a lot of people don't realize - on cloudy days, sight fishing is possible if skies are dark enough to provide a dark background, or you can find a dark shoreline (both of which help to cut the glare on the water surface), and you can find some smooth water. As the day progressed the winds dropped even more, so the fishable areas expanded. Many snook and redifish on the flats, and I was the only one giving chase. Granted. my sight window wasn't huge, and I spooked a bunch of fish, but I was able to see enough to catch a few. Later in the afternoon, I headed back to that tarpon spot for another look. Sure enough, within a couple minutes a fish rolled in the slick, slate-grey water. This time I was able to get a shot. IT was brief (he spit the hook on the third jump), but it was a good start to tarpon season and a great end to the day. The only negative to the day - I left my cup of coffee sitting in the truck.

3/22/08

For some reason, the other day when driving to a meeting, I started remembering random days from years ago, mostly when doing field work for my job. As I remember these days, and actually type them in, I'll post them.

The first one that popped into my head was from a day about 10 years ago when I ws fishing offshore with Hector. This was when I was working as a biologist in St. Croix, U.S. Virgin Islands. We were searching for dolphin (mahi, dorado) for a study on stomach contents (dolphin diet). Flying fish are plentiful down there, and arae often the targets of feeding mahi, tuna, wahoo, and marlin. Hector has incredible vision. We called it Hectorvision because he could literally see birds diving on bait from many miles away. We'd be trolling, or perhaps running in search of feeding fish, and Hector would say 'get ready'. His 'get ready' meant to bring in the lines and hold on because we were going to run to the fish. And no lie - they were usually many miles away. We ran a Boston Whaler 222' Outrage center console with a bimini top, so we could cover the distance between us a the diving birds very quickly.

One day we were just coming into an area that had feeding fish - about 1/2 mile off the bow the action was very heavy. As we approached the feeding fish and diving birds, we spooked up dozens of flying fish. When the flying fish are spooked by the boat, they take off from the water as if being chased by a fish, and glide off, sometimes for quite a distance. For some reason, we both were watching a flying fish that came out of the water just before the boat ran over it. As the fish glided off to the right, a frigate bird dopped out of the sky and nabbed the flying fish out of the air. That was cool. With dozens of flying fish going in al directions, I don't know which was more amazing - that we saw the frigate bird grab the fish or that we were both watching the same fish. A few seconds later, we again were watching the same flying fish, as it veered off to the right, then turned left to fly parallel to the boat, about 30 yards from the boat. Then the fish banked strongly to the left, pulling a u-turn, and came full speed at the bow. Wordlessly, Hector and I each stepped to the side as the flying fish went speeding between us. Insane. That flying fish went between us, but also flew above the console and below the bimini top. Insane.

3/18/08
These came out a few weeks ago, just took me a while to post links to them. Reviews of Fly Fisherman's Guide to Saltwater Prey

Read the one posted on Fishing Jones
Read the review in the Daytona News-Journal

3/10/08
Well, the fishing gods smiled on me this past weekend. Believe it or not, it was fine with me that it ws blowing 25 knots with gusts to 40. A very cool music festival was within driving distance, and that's where I spent my Sunday. So a big 'thank you' to the fishing gods for making it a no-brainer to go to the last day of the 3.5 day festival (couldn't get to the other days). www.langerado.com. Best band of the day for me was the reborn Blind Melon. The new singer sounds exactly like Shannon Hoon. Man, they rocked. And a new album coming out - Sweet! www.myspsace.com/blindmelon. Unfortunately, the long-term forecast for this weekend looks just as bad, and I don't have another diversion.

Posted 3/3/08
Capt P and a handsome redfish

Posted 3/3/08
Web site updated: two new pieces on the Writing page, new entry to the Flies page, new photo sections (miscellaneous fish, fishing sunsets), some new redfish photos

Posted 3/2/08
Bad news for beer drinkers. It looks like the price is going up for that ice cold beer at the end of a long day on the flats. The price of hops quintupled last year, partly due to bad weather in the regions where most hops are grown. What's even worse, barley is now being used as a biofuel, which makes it harder to get and pricier (prices doubled lasat year) - yet another reason to conserve energy! Piling it on - aluminum is used to make the tops to beer bottles, and the price of aluminum is on the rise. The end result - looks like the price of a good beer may double in 2008. Ugh. And as if you needed more evidence that Budweiser (aka Buttwiper) and Coors (man, that stuff gives me a headache every time) are crap beers, their prices will likely remain unaffected by the shortages of quality hops and barley. Yes, I'm a beer snob. So what. Life's too short to drink bad beer.

A cold Belikin waiting at the end of the day is a very good thing.

Posted 2/15/08
I gave two Saltwater Prey presentations this week - the first to the Charlotte Harbor Fly Fishers, the second at the Ding Darling Wildlife Preserve bookstore (a book signing). Great turnout for both talks, and some good questions after each talk. Thanks to all for helping to make it happen. Next up at the end of March - Mangrove Coast Fly Fishers (Sarasota) and the FFF National Fly Expo (Lakeland, FL).

Posted 2/9/08
I originally wrote this while living near Boston, when I fished the sand flats of Cape Cod. It is just as applicable here in southwest Florida. I decided to dig this out after recent fishing experiences.

Flats Fishing Etiquette

I'll admit I was spoiled fishing the flats of the Caribbean. It was rare to see other anglers on the flats, especially fly fishers. When I did see other anglers, it was usually at a distance, or at the end of the day under a palm tree reflecting the day's activities over a cold beer. In the four years I lived in the Caribbean, fishing three or four times a week, I was crowded on the flats by another angler only twice (same guy both times).

Now that I am fishing the flats and shallows of New England, I find rude fishing behavior to be far too common. After talking to some of these folks and thinking this over, I've come to the conclusion that many of these anglers are ignorant rather than rude. Most of these anglers appear to be new to fishing (especially fly fishing) and have no experience on the flats. Following is a list of tips for wading the flats so that this style of fishing is productive and enjoyable for everyone. Of course, there are certainly a few pinheads, but they usually get what they deserve...no fish. The problem is, they usually impinge on my fish too.

1. Give plenty of space.
Fishing the flats isn't like sliding in between a couple of other anglers along a jetty, beach, or river. In those situations folks usually need only enough room for casting. On the flats, anglers are looking for fish that are cruising in shallow water. These fish are often spooky, and may swim a long way across the flat before reaching the angler. A flats angler needs a large portion of the flat to remain undisturbed so that the fish reach his/her sight-fishing station in a feeding mode. Fifty yards from another angler, especially 'down-sight' (see IV below), is not too great a distance.
2. Don't blind cast.
Fishing the flats is all about sight-fishing - spotting a fish and then casting to that fish. Blind casting may catch the occasional fish on the flats, but more often fish are spooked by the haphazard casting. If you want to blind cast go somewhere else. Sighting fish on the flats takes practice, so just because you don't see any fish doesn't mean they aren't there. Spooking fish on your section of the flats makes those fish wary towards everyone else as well.
3. Move slowly.
Even better, find a good spot and stay put. The more you move, especially if you are inexperienced, the more you will scare fish. On calm days, the fish will be able to feel the small wave pushed out by a fast-moving wading angler. Also, rapid movement makes noise that the fish can easily hear.
4. Fish within the conditions.
Use the sun, current, and wind to your advantage. 1) you should have the sun at your back; I prefer the sun to be just over either shoulder rather than straight behind me. 2) go with the current; most often the fish will be feeding as they head into the current, so you should be looking downcurrent. 3) use the wind; if you can accomplish (1) and (2) and get the wind coming over the back of your non-casting shoulder, you are golden. The portion of the flat in this golden zone (i.e., sun at your back, looking down-current, and with the wind behind you) is the 'down-sight' area referred to in section I.

There is a lot more to sight-fishing on the flats, but this should be enough to get you started, and to keep you from infringing on other anglers.

Posted 2/9/08
I just updated the site, mostly new links, but also some new pics. More to come - as soon as I find time to sort through recent shots.

Posted 2/7/08
Recent self portrait

Posted 2/6/08
Random Thoughts: I recently heard someone say that many of the newer anglers don’t share location information, among other things. ALthough I wouldn't count myself as one of the 'newer anglers', I’m certainly one of those location non-sharers, so the comment got me to thinking about it. First, I learned the ‘non-share’ from my uncle, way back when. If we would come back to the dock with fish, people would always ask about where, etc. My uncle would either say we didn’t catch anything (if he could get away with it), or told them somewhere we weren’t fishing. One day, he set it up to prove to me that people would quickly ruin a spot if he told them where we were fishing. Back at the dock, he pulled out a nice walleye (we were fishing in Canada), and took it over to the cleaning table to fillet. When asked where he got it, he told them about a spot that was visible from where we stood. Sure enough, the next morning, there must’ve been 8-10 boats on that spot, making enough commotion that if there had been fish there, they were long gone.
Now, my outlook on this is a bit more developed (or so I like to think). I’ll talk to people forever about the how’s and why’s of fly fishing, situations, gear, flies, etc. But I NEVER tell people locations. Part of that is from my uncle. But now, it’s more a reaction to the instant gratification world that so many people live in. Although I’d rather have fishing spots to myself, if someone takes the time, makes the effort, does the work to research, find, and learn a spot, then more power to him/her. This person will appreciate the spot, behave in a responsible manner, etc. When it’s easy and with instant gratification, the sense of stewardship, responsibility, respect for other anglers is lacking 99% of the time. So although I somewhat understand the lament for the old days of sharing, the proportion of buttheads on the water is increasing even as the total number of anglers is decreasing. What can we do about it? Well, education is one way. Trying to get fly shops to share the how, why, situation, etc information, while not divulging too much in the way of spots is another.
This is something that has to be addressed if we're going to keep quality people in the fish business and fishing.

Posted 2/4/08
And then time stopped. Everything suspended in place. And with it, a suspension of disbelief. Gravity didn’t exist, and light stopped traveling. For an instant, since there was no time, light could not travel, and so the image stayed frozen – but continued to exist, alive.
And because light did not travel, and could not disappear into space, everything was clear. No soft edges. No blurs of motion. Every detail crisp and clean. Magnified.
And for this moment, there was no sound.  It was not an absence of sound, not a vacuum. The sound was still there, trapped by the light, caught in mid-stream, piling up behind an invisible veil of light.  Palpable, pressure building, waiting to explode. But for a moment, sound, too, was still.
And then time starts again, rushing past in a shock wave, blasting through with the force of light and sound bursting through time. It’s always the sound that escapes first, somehow slips through cracks in the veil of light. Briefly in the distance, almost gray. Then explosively closer. Then crashing through like a sudden hurricane. The switch was turned, and time starts again. 
In an explosion of sound and a shower of silver and white, the big tarpon crashes back into the water, that frozen moment of time disappearing through the hole in the water left by the crashing fish. Fly line hisses as it zips through the water.  The reel spins, screaming, at the speed of light. The big tarpon greyhounds off the bow, ever farther away. Time is back on its own terms, dragging us behind. And so it goes.

*****

This doesn’t happen always, only some fish, on some days.  But when fishing for tarpon it happens frequently enough to cause addiction, to keep us coming back for more.  Sometimes, soon after being hooked, a tarpon makes a first jump close to the boat. For most fish, it is the first spectacular jump of many, initiating a brief struggle between angler and beast.  But a few special tarpon are able to make time stand still, for just a moment, as they suspend themselves in mid-air to survey the madness above the water; skiff, wide-eyed angler, outstretched rod, jumping fly line. When time stands still, you have to wonder who is looking at whom. My guess is that with 50 million years experience swimming the oceans, in these moments tarpon have the upper hand.
There’s really no way to know how long the moment lasts. It doesn’t really matter anyway, to those encased in that moment. An hour would feel the same as a minute, as a second, as a day. In reality, it’s probably only a few seconds to those not involved, but who really knows. What I have noticed is that if you’re not involved, you are blind to it, locked out of that moment. Yet another nod to the tarpon in control.
I remember my first big tarpon jumped on the fly. I remember the fly, the place, the time of day, and how long I had the tarpon on before it spit the hook. But even more vivid are images of tarpon since that time. Tarpon that were special, who stopped time. Each of these moments is etched in my memory. If I’m lucky, before I die, before the images grow fuzzy, someone will invent a device that will allow me to download and print these images for others to see.
These images aren’t really part of a story.  How things got to the moment are pretty much immaterial. What happened after the moment is only peripheral.  That’s the beauty of these moments, each one comes on its own, without notice, and then ceases. Sure, with some thought I can recall the general story around the fish, but usually not much in the way of details. The image of the moment, on the other hand, stays clear.
I’ve noticed that some people try to recreate these moments, but that’s foolish. It can’t be done. Each event that time stops is unique, unreplicable. And if you pursue these moments, they will elude you. It’s best to let them happen, experience them when they do, and stow them away.

*****

These are a few moments etched in my mind, the ones that pop to the surface most often.

I am standing on the bow of the skiff, 12wt in my right hand, clear intermediate fly line in my left hand, a half-dozen coils of line at my feet. The rod is pointing toward 12 o’clock, fly line disappearing into the glassy water surface. I’m looking to the port side. Ten feet from the boat the fly line is angling up out of the water, fleeing toward the stern, water droplets framing it on all sides.  A tarpon, perhaps 110 pounds, hangs vertically, head skyward, tail five feet above the water surface. The tarpon is sideways to the boat, its eye peering back.  It is eye-to-eye with Doug, suspended motionless on the poling platform, white push pole trailing into the water off the starboard side. Doug’s feet are pointing forward, but his body is twisted left, facing the tarpon only 10 feet away.  It is mid-morning with clear skies, but the light is not bright. It is somehow clear but subdued.  The tarpon’s scales sparkle at the edges. It’s emerald-green back glows, injecting color into the water suspended in mid-air all around it. The yellow fly gleams in stark contrast to the shadow of the gaping maw.

I am standing alone on the deck of the skiff, between the center console and the bow’s casting deck, facing the bow. The wind is calm. The water surface is slick, but crossed with snakes of underwater streams carrying the tide seaward. To the left the streams boil all at once to the surface, then submerge. Small dimples mark the surface, revealing the locations of the paddle-like backfins of small crabs riding the tide seaward to spawn. Failing dusk light filters through a high ceiling of thin clouds, and bounces off thunderheads scraping the horizon, casting a burnt-orange glow.  The white deck of the skiff glows a soft orange as it drifts stern-first with the tide. Most of the 12 weight fly line is stripped off the reel, and 70 feet of it is scattered across the deck around my feet.  The rod points toward the bow, each guide catching the dusk light in sparkles of orange. The fly line is an extension of the rod, passing through a spot five feet above the bow, connected to a tarpon flying high enough to have wings. Suspended parallel to the water, it hovers eight feet in the air.  I look up at the largest tarpon I have ever hooked, its large scales each a glimmer of the fading orange sun, the black pupil of its massive eye the center of an orange orb. The brown, tan, and purple crab fly drifts inches outside of the tarpon’s mouth. Already, the tarpon is free again.

The tarpon’s head rises out of the water, so its eyes and jaw are exposed, mouth open. The blue-over-white deceiver falls into the dark cavern of the tarpon’s mouth, accompanied by two yellow-billed sprat (sardines).  A dark ball of sprat surround the tarpon, 20 feet on all sides, shimmering bits of silver in the dark green mass of panic.  The tarpon’s head is framed by a halo of clear water vacant of prey, and a crown of silver panic hovering above the surface. The yellow fly line lays across the water, undulating with the small waves bouncing off the beach, and runs onto the beach, across my right foot, and to the rod tip. I stand barefoot, in board shorts and t-shirt, only 40 feet away.

Time can stop other places on the ocean, too. Like during surfing or boogy-boarding.  There can be a moment, on a clean cresting wave, just before the top of the wave folds over, just as you are dropping in, looking down the face of the sparkling wave, when there is no sound, there is no time, a moment of perfection.  But these are images for another day.

Posted 1/17/08

Just finished fishing 3 days with the crew for an upcoming fly fishing show (Dollar Wise Fly) on Versus. The crew - Conway, Justing, and Matt. I think it will start airing in February. The episode I helped with should air in April. It was a tough three days - immediately after a cold front, and about 10 days after a severe cold front that caused large-scale fish kills. Over the 3 days, though, we managed to get Conway the local grand slam - tarpon, snook, redfish, trout. On the third and final day, we had a local reporter out with us to do a story. You can see the details here.

All material copyright Aaron Adams 2007, 2008, and beyond, unless otherwise noted.