Small Fly, Big Fish

A few weeks ago, we rendezvoused with some friends at a place serving a rare treat on this island: an all-you-can-eat Sunday Brunch. It was the best feed I'd had in a year, but in between my 4th and 5th dish, I noticed that there were some birds diving 30ft behind me, just offshore in the surf and surfacing around their feet, cleaning up their leftovers, were bonefish.

The 8wt came out of the trunk after I finished my bloody mary and I tied on a small fry pattern, tied on a size 10 hook. Actually, it was similar to a gotchya or crazy charlie, but when stripped fast it resembled a fleeing fish. It was the only remaining fly of a set of these that my brother had tied before our trip last August. The other three had brought to hand a few bones each so I certainly had some confidence in them.

Green guy, center right.

I took up position away from the surf so as not to spook the birds and waited for one to dive near me. When one did, I dropped the fly within 1ft of the bird and barely twitched it. This was almost a guaranteed hookup...

I was not expecting what happened next. A tarpon breached like a feeding whale at the feet of the bird, taking in mouthfuls of stunned fry and, along with them, my tiny fly. I knew the 20lb flouro would never hold but before that failed, the hook on my last remaining money fly would straighten, so I did nothing. The fish felt the resistance of the drag and took off, leaping and cartwheeling. I did not set the hook or lift the rod, I just waited for the fly to fall out.

Hell, most of the time I can't get a hook to stick in a tarpon on purpose so I figured there was almost no chance of this small hook finding purchase within the mechanical mouth of this beast.

Strangely, the hook did not fall out and the line did not come slack. I was connected, somehow, to a 30lb fish on a size 10 fly.

At about this time, some friends from brunch were passing by during their leisurely stroll on the sand. I tried to explain to them the ridiculousness of my situation and the fact that we could expect, at any moment, the flouro to fray and me to have to re-tie.

Still, somehow, the fish stayed on. It leapt as I passed the camera to one of them. He snapped away as I held the fish at bay. Too much pressure and the hook would bend out or the leader would fray.

Lasting a bit longer than expected...

As the fish tired after about 10 minutes I was able, by gently walking backwards and reeling in as I walked forwards, to bring the fish to within feet of the sand.

I could see the reason why the leader had not frayed, at least. The fly was lodged right in the center-line hinge at the very tip of the fish's upper lip. The fly found the only millimeter of space where it was soft enough to penetrate, and the leader was out of the way of the abrasive mouth.

I now had to wait for the perfect wave on which to surf the fish onto the beach before pouncing and going for the lips.

Getting her into position...

I waited...

and waited...

and waited...

Still, I waited for the perfect wave.

Here it comes...

Finally, my chance arrived. I gave one impatient, harder-than-I-should-have pull back on the rod to lead the fish headfirst onto the sand and the leader parted, allowing the fish to silently and slowly glide off out to sea.

Oh, well. Can't say that was unexpected.

As my arm shook from holding the fish steady, I tried to explain why what just happened was so unexpected. I don't think they understood.

SOLO.

A summer spent carping left my trout box desolated. Around 12:30 in the morning, I finally put the vice away and discovered I had to change lines and add backing to my reel too. Sleep would have to wait. Soon I was packed with the basic essentials for a day on the water. I set my alarm for 5:30 with high hopes of hitting the road by 6. When that annoying sound vibrated on my desk, I hit the snooze several times. With no fishing partner waiting for me, it was all too easy to sleep in a little longer. I ended up hitting the road at seven and realized I forgot a key ingredient in my freezer. I made the return trip before embarking once again. I was finally stream side by 9 and pushing through a foot of snow soon thereafter.

Contemplating Hitting Snooze for the 7th Time.

Packed & In Bed By 2.

The winter has been a little harsh on the mid-atlantic region and the next few days were calling for quite the epic storm to roll across the country. The bitter cold had left my local streams covered in ice and I yearned for open water. I found it and willing fish on an out of state tailwater. After a rough morning, I finally got into a groove and found some solitude as well. The pretty wild brown trout were small and feisty as usual and willing to hit a variety of presentation methods. 

I Can't Wait For Spring, Warmer Temps, & Daylight.

I Have Lost All Faith in Factory Installed Loops. 

Thank You Mr. Nailknot. 

Morning's First.

As the temperature slowly warmed, loud splashes could be heard all around. Snow was softening on the trees and coming down in bucketfuls. The trout did not seem to mind all the commotion on top of the water. However, several times snow landed on me as I made my way upstream. Some of it hurt because the trees it was coming off of were quite tall. The snow also made my hike quite sketchy especially in the canyon section where the water is lined with large boulders. The snow masked small crevices that I didn't want to get a foot or leg stuck in. 

Why We Fish In Winter.

This is all Bonus.

Gorgeous Stretch.

Produces a Gorgeous Fish.

What Goes Up.

Must Come Down. 

Don't Slip.

Swinging Nymphs.

A Favorite Bend. 

The highlight of the day came on my hike back to the truck. I decided to focus on fishing streamers on my return journey. I chose a large articulated sculpin with the idea of going big or going home. I was rewarded with one of my largest fish from this stretch of water. Along slow deep pocket, I bounced the weighted fly along the bottom before coming tight to something that had some weight to it. After a few tense moments I landed the beautiful brown for a few quick photos before sending her on her way. It was my payoff for a long day hiking and fishing solo. 

Sketchy.

Four Inches of Sculpin.

Equals Sixteen Inches of Brown.

Very Kind of Them.

If It Was Me, They Would Have Gone in Front.

Warmest Water Around.

Walking A Mile Downstream to the Truck.

Diesel Reels.

UV Chewee Caddis Pupa

One of my favorite patterns to fish is always a caddis of some sort. All three stages of their lives: larva, pupa, & adult offer easy meals for wild brown trout across Pennsylvania. To build a better mouse trap I have started using UV epoxy. I have been adapting almost all of my patterns, especially my nymphs, with it in some fashion. I particularly have found it useful on my caddis larva & pupa patterns to create a translucence finish on their abdomens. Thus far, my early experiments have worked well this winter on wild brown trout. This past weekend I took several trout in a row fishing this particular pattern on the swing. The following is a tutorial of sorts that I hope you may enjoy. 

A Caddis Primed & Ready To Go.

Tools & Materials.

Gamakatsu C12 Caddis Hook & Tungsten Bead.

Olive Thread Wrapped Mid Shank.

Tie in a 1-2 Inch Thin Piece of UV Chewee Skin in Olive.

Wrap Using Tension. This is a Pretty Shitty Wrap Job.

Coat Evenly With Loon UV, Bug Bond, or Tuffleye.

Zap With UV Torch.

Translucent UV Body.

Tie In Wing Pads Using Medallion Sheeting or Biots.

Dubbed With Senyo's Olive Laser Dub.

Wrap One Turn of Hungarian Partridge.

Dub Again.

Once More With Black Dubbing.

Finish.

Ready to Rock.

Brother's & Sisters.

Caddis Larva.

Vladi Worm Impersonation w/ UV Chewee Skin & Coating.

Proven.