Here there be Tygers

My wife and I recently packed up the truck for a road trip through southern Africa from our home in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania. We covered just shy of 5000 miles in a month, and blitzed through our home country of Tanzania before traversing Zambia, Botswana, Namibia and South Africa en route to Johannesburg and our flights home.

It was an absolute feast for the senses, for the mind and for the soul. We saw and experienced some unbelievable things, and an upcoming blog post will outline those.

the mighty Zambezi

Stress Release

A good friend of mine named Ben was set to get married midway through June. With two weeks to go until the big day, Ben was still busy working overtime and spending the precious free time he had planning for the big day with his future wife. Fortunately, I was able to break him free on a beautiful weekend day to provide some much needed stress free fishing…

Pre-Spawn

Late spring and the carp have snapped out of their winter doldrums. More active, they are exploring shallower water and putting their feed bangs on. All of this in preparation for the spawn, which depending on water temperature varies from body of water to body of water. This short period can feature some of the best carp action of the year before things shut down until the spawn is over…

Dude, Where's Your Boat?

Tyler- "Dude, where's your boat?"

Kyle- "Where's your boat?"

Those aren't exactly words you want to hear after driving four+ hours. We planned on fishing for two days for stripers, reds, and maybe some cobia but the situation was looking rather bleak. After the realization set in that we didn't have a boat, Kyle set to work planning a backup plan that featured another hours drive. Despite the misfortune and misunderstanding, we made the most of the next two days and still left the south with big smiles across our faces. 

Long Overdue, Winter Part 2

For the first half of Winter I primarily fished the upper river. After awhile the crowds and drift boats became a bit too much. I spent the latter half of the season in peace and quite covering the lower river in search of willing participants.

This was probably my most enjoyable time on the river. Long periods of casting interrupted by violent grabs followed by ridiculous laughter on my part to be witnessed by no one but myself.

Good times were had...

Shad

The amount of biomass migrating into the Chesapeake Bay and into every reachable tributary of the watershed cannot be truly fathomed by fishermen. Beyond the large stripers are many species of shad and the all important river herring. These anadromous species combine with local species and even the catadromous American eel to create one of the most bio-diverse fisheries in the US. It all comes together in the upper reaches of the Bay in the Susquehanna River. Here, anglers from all over the U.S. travel to catch Hickory and American Shad en masse…

No Hatch, No Cry

The last weekend of April saw my buddy Ryan and I heading north to New York. A fabled trout stream awaited us that is home to beautiful wild browns, large holdovers, and some freshly stocked fish. We eagerly anticipated the first onslaught of Spring hatches: black caddis, quill gordons, and hendricksons. When we arrived just before sunset, our hopes were dimmed a bit. The temperature read 33 degrees and the day called for 25-35 mph gusts. Needless to say, but we didn't see any fish rising over the course of our day and a half of fishing. Despite mis-timing the bug activity, we still made the best of our situation and had a great little trip up north...

Striped Bass With Tidewater Charters

Spring brings the world's largest striped bass into the Chesapeake Bay as they follow a smorgasbord of bait and other anadromous species on their annual migration on the East Coast. Although not too far away, I never got around to targeting stripers on fly or gear, but for only a few hours this year I was able to get out with Tyler Nonn of Tidewater Charters to do what he does best, catch monsters…

Carpin Tales

As I approached the bank of the pond for the first time this Spring, I immediately saw an image I had not seen in quite some time. A long dark shadow prowled a few feet off shore obscured by turbid water and freshly disturbed detritus. I hunkered down and tied on some fresh 4x and paired it with a size 14 glo bug. When I arose, the fish was nowhere to be found but I knew it would only be a short time before I saw him again. That moment came fifty yards down the bank. Fresh mud billowed from the depths and my eyes strained for any sign of the carp. As my contacts began drying, I finally remembered to blink. Amidst the plume, a dark shadow lurched forward. A flick of sixteen feet of leader and my fly slowly descended at the carp's ten o'clock. As the fly approached the zone, the shadow shifted 45 degrees to the fly and moved forward. The carp paused and I set the hook into my first respectable carp of the season…

Drought

I should know by now that thinking too much about the potential greatness of an upcoming day on the water will probably lead to disappointment. Making fly fishing only about the fish is a mistake, but it's hard not to do that when you haven't had a shot in a very long time. I've lived here for 18 months and this was my first chance.

The feeds that had been turning the Indian Ocean into a boiling mass of tuna and mackerel for the past few days never materialized. The flies I stayed up late tying never got wet. The coin I dropped to fish in just the right conditions felt more like theft than anything else. But that's unfair. This is fishing and no one is owed anything, no matter how long it's been since you've had a shot. Coming from the land of public waters, paying for access is hard for me to stomach.

The setting sun turned the ocean to poured gold and the tankers we navigated, shrouded in anti-pirate razor wire, reminded me of a city skyline. The smell of the water and the wind and the birds and the colors are usually the cherry on top of a day spent fishing, but as the little boat skated over the surface on our way back to the harbor I became aware that I was thinking more about how I never even got to cast than I was about the beauty around me.

A Tale of Two Mornings

After a long drive and a longer day of fishing, sleep came easy for us. While Austin and Pat opted for their tents, I slept in my hammock. The temperature dropped into the thirties but I was still comfortable in my cheap sleeping bag. As we awoke from our slumber we restarted the fire to finish off the sausages from the night before and began preparing for another day on the water. Our preparation pace slowed as we realized that no one was around and we had most of the entire river to ourselves. It was already ten o'clock and we geared up awaiting the slowly cooking sausages and the wild trout a football field away…

Fresh, Dumb, & Willing

On a 3rd annual fishing trip to celebrate my good friend Austin's birthday, we found ourselves riverside after an all night drive west to the land of stocked bows. It was the last weekend in March and the fish were freshly stocked, incredibly dumb, and willing to be caught more than once…

Spring Ahead

Daylight savings time in the spring is probably my favorite day of the year. It affords the fly angler an extra hour of daylight in the afternoon to not only enjoy the increasingly nice weather outside, but to go fishing after work. This year springing ahead fell on March 6, and should have ushered in some Spring-like weather. However, it decided to snow multiple times in the Mid-Atlantic region since then with the temperatures and weather fluctuating on a weekly basis. This made Spring seem a little farther off than anticipated, but I didn't let it stop me from heading outside to do some local trout fishing. I even got in a few carp sessions when the water clarity finally began to clear.

Ice, Snow, and Steel

After a personally disappointing Fall Season on the river the steelhead gods began to show me some sympathy. My winter season proved to be one that I’ll never soon forget. As the flows began to stabilize so did I. I spent some of my time on a stretch of river that I'm quite familiar with, it’s only drawback is that 10,000 other anglers are too. Swinging flies in a combat scenario can be unnerving at times, but the reward is there for the taking if you keep your head in the game.

Humming of Mystery

A winter camping trip to Shenandoah materialized in the beginning of February. Naturally, I brought my small stream fly rod just incase we ventured along a stream that harbored some of the last pure stocks of native brook trout on the east coast...