No "Bones" About It

We have now entered the pelagic zone. This is the time of season when fly anglers' thoughts turn to local members of the tuna and mackerel family. The first of those annual pelagic visitors, Spanish mackerel and bonito have made their way to our inshore waters. I have been chasing Atlantic bonito around Long Island for more than thirty years but I never tire of catching them on the fly. The advance guard of bonito showed up several weeks ago in the central Long Island Sound area, but as of late those early shows have gotten somewhat scarce. The fish that are still hanging around have developed a mild case of selective lockjaw but that could change as quickly as the next tide. If you encounter stubborn fish, mix up the selection of flies and retrieves until you hit upon the right combination. Pods of bonito are now dispersed around Long Island and by all current accounts appear to be moving east to west and setting up shop. Increasing numbers of recent reports indicate bonito catches in areas of the western Sound and central south shore locations in close proximity to inlets and bays. Several fly anglers who chase bonito regularly report finding larger numbers of fish in the western most regions of the Long Island Sound. As the fish disperse they are also showing up in some non-typical locations so it pays to do some scouting and exploring. While the numbers of bonito are not yet anywhere near the epic runs of 2003 and 2007, we should see more fish moving into Long Island and Connecticut waters in the coming weeks and months, and along the south shore as well. Expect the numbers of Long Island "bones" to build to a crescendo as they eventually mix in with later arriving Little tunny and then peak during the fall run. In addition to all the prolific bait that has been around the past few weeks, I've encountered massive schools of bay anchovies as well. Their presence bodes well for pelagic enthusiasts. With a little luck we may also get some inshore shots this season at skipjack and small bluefin tuna. Pelagic species can at times be very tough fish to get to eat a fly. Their presence has a way of bringing out the best and the worst in anglers. Please remember to exercise courtesy when fly-fishing for them. There is absolutely no need to blast in on an angler who is either hooked up or patiently waiting for a pod of fish to surface. The most enjoyable part of this game is finding, hooking and catching your own fish, not finding some other angler who is catching them! Good luck!

No Excuses

If ever there was a corporate slogan appropriate for saltwater fly-fishing it would be Nike’s ever-popular catchphrase, “Just Do It”. For some reason it seems as if a lot of would-be salty fly anglers are always just getting ready to “do it”, but never quite get it done. It seems too as if something always stands in their way and that conditions are not always deemed quite right or perfect for the fly rod. The excuses for non-participation run the gamut: too windy, too calm; too cold, too hot; too much rain, not enough rain; too sunny, not sunny enough; too many bugs, not enough bugs; the Yankees lost, Boston won! On and on the excuses go for leaving the long wand tucked away in the closet. There is no such thing as perfection when if comes to saltwater fly-fishing conditions. If you fish coastal areas anywhere along the northeast corridor – or anywhere in the coastal United States -you will more often than not encounter adverse weather conditions and lots of wind. One can learn to either cope with those conditions and how to catch fish despite them, or keep the fly rod locked away for elusive “better” days.
I recently read a fellow’s fishing report thread on one of the regional fishing websites. He details every element of his outings, from the exact time he awoke in the morning to what he had for breakfast that day, how long it took to get to the launch ramp, including the delays on the highway, and he catalogs each and every fish caught. He also often lists his reports under the category of “fly-fishing” but has yet to report catching a fish on the fly. According to the reports, conditions were just never quite right for fly-fishing so the tackle of choice became either conventional or spinning gear. It seems as if some conspiring set of forces are always at work preventing the use of the fly rod by others as well. More often than not the perceived nemesis is the wind. I overheard one other fellow tell someone he recently purchased a “long wand” for those days when there is the slightest of breezes and generally flat conditions. He went on to say, “…you know, those days when it is just right for the fly rod.” Wrong! There is no such thing as “just right”. Some of the best days fly-fishing are unsettled ones, as they are for other forms of sport angling. Granted, it is much easier to toss a two-ounce plug on an 11-foot surf stick into a stiff 20-mph wind than it is to do the same with a fly rod, but, nonetheless, fish still can be caught under those conditions. It is a matter of perseverance, practice and a positive mindset.
I’ve had many of instances with my own fly-fishing that prove the point but two are real standouts in my mind and have influenced my use of the fly rod. The first occurred during a trip to Alaska and involve 40-plus mile per hour winds and driving rain, and the second was on Long Island involving wind, rain and high seas. In both instances, lots of fish were caught on the fly. So don’t hesitate to grab the fly rod, even if you think conditions are less than ideal…just do it! You might be very surprised at the results.

Flatfish on the Fly

Of all places for the idea to strike me was the lounge area at the Millennium Hotel in Anchorage Alaska. Each one of my fly fishing pilgrimages to the great Northland for salmon and trout hasn't officially begun until I am seated at a table in the Millenium savoring a basket of mouth watering halibut chunks and enjoying a couple of ice cold Alaskan Ambers. It has become a tradition for me, and this time I didn’t wait for my fishing buddy’s flight to arrive before indulging myself.

The culinary pleasure I was experiencing must have been obvious since the guy sitting one table over turned to me and said, “Those chunks are pretty good, aren’t they?”

“The best”, I replied, “I wait all year for this. And the brew just hits the spot.”

Then this fellow proceeds to tell me that he is up there to do some halibut fishing -not unusual for the time of year. But what was a bit out of the ordinary was that he was doing his halibut fishing with a fly rod! That grabbed my attention. Another order of chunks and another Amber and I was all ears! This guy proceeds to tell me that he has caught halibut on the fly up to about fifty pounds but wanted to break the one hundred pound mark on this trip and see if he just might achieve a new tippet class world record. Now I am thinking if big fluke are doormats, then large halibut are the barn doors, and it would be quite a feat to land one on the long wand. The largest fly rod halibut on record is currently one hundred and eleven pounds – one mighty large flatfish!

I listened to my new acquaintance tell me how the big flatfish lie in wait on the bottom camoflauged by their speckled brown topside and white underbelly and how they will travel up the water column to pursue a wide range of prey. While they spend most of their time in deep water they can often be found in the shallows but a few meters deep. Sound familiar? Well it should because the habits of halibut are likewise displayed by its diminutive cousin, the fluke.
I wished this fellow well in his quest, my fishing buddy finally arrived and more halibut chunks and Amber had been ordered, but the seed had been planted. I took the concept back to my home waters of the Long Island Sound and have since had a ton of fun with fluke on the fly.

Points of Transition

Edges, corners and points of transition are attractors for all sorts of fish and game. Fishermen and hunters alike gravitate toward contour changes in pursuit of quarry that have a proclivity for these areas as well. A big largemouth on an outer edge of a submerged brush pile, a huge buck in the corner of a woodlot or striped bass at the transition point from sand to rocks are all examples of locations of potential wildlife and fish activity. The salty fly fisherman would be well served to pay attention to these and other similar geographic considerations and variations in structure. Just recently I was fly-fishing a stretch of beach in the wee hours of pre-dawn. Shuffling along the sand bottom I made cast after cast without a single bass showing so much as passing interest in my fly. At one point I sensed a bottom change through my wading boot; the structure beneath my feet transitioned from smooth, soft sand to what felt like a pebbly bottom. Within two or three subsequent lateral steps, I had a nice striped bass strike my fly. A few casts later, another bass hit. At the time I didn’t think much of it and continued my way down the beach, moving off the rocky bottom and back on to sand. But after wading an additional one hundred yards without another hit, I began thinking about the pebbles and stones that had been underfoot. I retraced my steps back to that general area of change and began casting, positioning myself first over the sand bottom. I waded again laterally and as fate or luck or structure would have it, once I hit upon the pebbled bottom, more bass ate the fly. What now became an obvious revelation was that as long as I stayed within that small area of transition I caught bass. If I moved off from that preferred bottom situation the bite became non-existent. I continued to catch bass that morning as long as I stayed within the parameters of the gravely transition zone. But what was even more revealing to me was that this pattern continued for more than a week of fishing, as long as I moved from one similar area to another. Sometimes it just pays to have sensitive feet and to listen to what your wading boots are telling you!

Casting the Whole Chicken

A couple years ago at an Eastern Flyrodders of Long Island meeting I watched world renowned fly casting expert Mark Sedotti toss a 20-inch, large bodied Slammer Fly – the size of a full grown oven-roaster - one-hundred-twenty feet with a six weight fly rod. The audience didn’t believe what they had witnessed, so to convince them Mark did it again. This time the fly sailed the same distance and with pinpoint accuracy almost landed in the cup of a practice hole at Indian Island Country Club in Riverhead. I also witnessed Mark do the same thing at the Fly Fishing Show in Somerset NJ, only that time he knocked down the backboard as the cast’s finale! My first thought was Annie Oakley, for this just had to be a trick cast. Mark is a very gifted and athletic caster and a topnotch angler as well. I equate his casting abilities to those of a baseball pitcher. A lot of folks can throw strikes but only a handful can do so at 95 miles an hour! To do so takes an extra special genetic makeup. I mentioned that to Mark and added that only he and a handful of other casters I know could do what he does with a fly rod and big flies. After all, his casting seemed to defy the rules of physics. Mark response to that, “Anyone can do it.” OK, I’ll bite - what’s the trick? “No trick,” Mark shot back. “The secret is a ‘weight-balanced’ fly. My first thought was, I don’t care how weight-balanced a fly is, throwing a chicken on a six-weight is just not possible, even though I had seen him do it.
After the Eastern exhibition the group withdrew to the clubhouse and Mark explained his fly tying and fly casting theories. Simply put, add enough balanced weight to a fly in the form of a keel, allowing the fly to overcome air resistance and drag, and casting really big flies is a breeze. Simple? Yes! Does it work? Yes! It still takes honed casting skills to toss a fly like Mark, but his approach teaches us an even more important fly-fishing lesson - think outside the fly box and don’t always subscribe to conventional wisdom or theory. That is how the sport of fly fishing advances and how we enhance out own abilities. By the way, if the opportunity ever presents itself, take a fly-cast lesson with Mark. Even if you are an accomplished caster, his tips and techniques will make you better.

Don't Go in the Water

A number of years back I was wade fishing for snook along a stretch of beach on Sanibel Island, Florida. It was one of those picture-perfect Gulf Coast days. Being immersed in water up to mid-thigh depth kept me cool, and a cast-friendly breeze aided my distance as I worked the fly rod. I was proud of my casts as the fly sailed out just beyond the first set of small breakers and settled in the trough preceding the next grouping of waves. I shuffled along slowly, casting to new water every few feet. My solitude was interrupted by a surprising voice behind me, “ Nice casting there fella. Too bad all the snook are behind you!” “What? What are you talking about?” I replied.
The fellow motioned for me to get out of the water and come stand up by him. I was taught at a young age not to talk to strangers but I sensed this guy might have some fishing wisdom to share so I took the risk! Out of the water I came. “Let’s just watch for a few minutes,” he said. Within moments he pointed to a few ghost-like images cruising up the edge of the shoreline, the telltale black lines dead giveaways to the snooks’ presence. We waited and we watched as small pods and squadrons of snook passed by one after the other, all well behind the position I’d been fishing just moments before, and very near to the shore. It made me think that had I dropped the fly behind me on the back casts I may have had some hook-ups. The old gent winked at me and continued on his walk. I continued fishing but now I stayed planted on terra firma, and I caught snook.
The lessons of that experience were vividly awakened recently as I waded a favorite stretch of local beach for striped bass. Once again I was in up to my stripping basket and impressing myself with the casting. I heard a slight pop off to my right and just caught a glimpse of silver as a fish appeared to be turning on small bait. I slowly backed out of the water and watched. Within minutes I spied hundreds of small, slender and frenetic sand eels shooting past my vantage point. Hot on their heels were some decent-sized stripers. I made one short false cast angled to the right and dropped the fly no more than fifteen feet from shore. A couple strips were all it took for the first of numerous bass to take. I walked the beach for the balance of the tide, not once getting my waders wet. There are certainly times while fly-fishing our local beaches when it pays to simply stay dry at the water’s edge. The obvious situations are pre-dawn, dusk and at night when fish cruise close to where water meets land searching for shallow water prey. Another similar situation is during the spring when bass run thin water looking for sand eels, as are certain periods during the fall run along both shores of the Island, when high incoming winds force bait into the zones along the edge. Every once and a while make a few casts before forging ahead into the water. You might be surprised at the outcome.

Crab Flies and Striped Bass

Casting crab flies to striped bass might be as close to technical fly-fishing as we have on the local saltwater scene. Bass love to eat live crabs of all varieties, but getting them to eat a crustacean imitation is not an easy task, especially if you’re sight casting to them in thin water or on the flats. That takes patience, stealth, accurate casting, an enticing retrieve and a modicum of good luck. It is one of those techniques where the fly angler has to actually “feed” the fly to the fish. The two most common methods for fishing crab flies are drifting them while blind casting to probable feeding stations, or visually sighting and casting to bass feeding in shallow water. The latter is unquestionably the more demanding and challenging approach. One thing is for certain when fishing in this manner – each bass caught is well deserved and gratifying.
Alan Caolo is one of the very best crab fly anglers in the Northeast. His book,
Sight-Fishing for Striped Bass (Amato Publications, 2001) focuses on various fly fishing strategies and is filled with helpful hints and tips on skinny water fly fishing for striped bass, including those involving crab flies. I touched base with Alan recently and he graciously provided some words of wisdom regarding his experiences fly-fishing crabs. His insights are sure to enhance any fly angler’s understanding of crab fly techniques.
“Fishing crab patterns here in the Northeast for striped bass and tautog is a relatively new approach that’s quite a bit different from the usual tactics employed by fly-rodders. There are certainly times when dead-drifting unweighted crab flies in currents, or casting-and-retrieving weighted patterns (as one would a Clouser Minnow) while “blind-fishing” will take fish, but, for the most part, crab flies are “sight-fishing” patterns. To fish them effectively, anglers must “feed” the fly to a game fish that was first spotted, and then presented the fly. The fish’s response to the fly must be visually interpreted during the retrieve as you “convince” the fish to take it. It is the need to read the fish’s behavior as you cajole it to eat that makes fishing these patterns (for the most part) a sight-fishing game – much like when bonefishing.
There are a number of very good crab patterns specifically developed for Northeast sight-fishing today; Dave Skok’s Blind Crab and Calico Merkin, and my own Green Diablo and Pink Lady are four of my favorites. A key to fishing these flies is getting them in front of the target fish with a presentation that lands the fly far enough ahead of the fish to avoid spooking it, and so as to allow it to settle to the bottom before the fish spots it and the retrieve is started. Once the fish sees it and is interested, try not to impart too much movement to the fly; a tempered retrieve that is punctuated with twitches, nudges, and is frequently paused is best for closing the sale . . . much as with bonefish and permit in the tropics.”
I’ll second the choice of Caolo’s Green Diablo and Pink Lady and add a few more patterns that are personal favorites: BMAR Crab, Samson’s Stone Crab, Mikkleson’s Crab-A-Dab-A-Goo, Courchaine’s Monomoy Crab and Murphy’s Live Body Defense Crab. Within our fishing range the most predominant species of crabs are: fiddlers, green, calico, mud, blue and Asian, all dietary preferences of local stripers. Many of the more effective permit and large bonefish flies also work well for striped bass. Keep some light tan, dark brown and mottled-back crabs in your fly arsenal. That combination of colors can handle most any conditions you will encounter on the Island.
I was honored recently by a stocky 33-inch bass that chose to eat one of my small crab fly concoctions. This occurred in an area with a large number of Asian crabs that wash into a small backwater eddy. Needless to say, that fish made my day! While the fly is more of a hybrid crab/crustacean pattern, it is fished like a drifted crab and the bass seem to like it.