another perfect setup in the arsenal of fun.
sunny conditions, like so many things in life and fly
fishing, are a trade off. bright sun and
clear skies make it very easy to spot fish (almost ridiculously easy). the trade off is that it can also keep fish
off the flat and make those that do venture into the shallows extremely wary
and on edge. remember, the easier it is
to see them, the easier it is for them to see you. with that very thought in my mind i began my
hunt for fish.
with the tide low and the sun so bright, it was not
surprising that there weren’t very many fish around. i knew that there would be some but it could take
a while. i casually strolled around
listening to my tunes, trying not to dance around too much because, you know,
it was sunny. i finally spotted one
heading straight toward me at about seventy feet. i stopped dead in my tracks, kept my eye on
it, and made myself small. i knew the
fish didn’t spot me as it kept on its slow path toward me without flinching.
the
bone was a little larger than i like to hook with my six but beggars can’t be
choosey. besides, as those who have been
doing this stuff for a while know, chances are better than even that it
wouldn’t bite anyway. i watched the fish
until it got to about sixty feet from me.
i then made one roll cast to get some line on the water, picked it up
and fired it out. the fly landed ten to
twelve feet in front of the fish. the
fish kept on its track showing no signs of suspecting anything nefarious. this was the first fish i encountered that
day so i had no game plan as far as what kind of presentation to make. on pure instinct, i just let the fly sit just
making sure i was in contact with the fly.
the fish never turned or sped up.
when it got over my fly it simply stopped.
i saw the fish eat the fly. when i say that, i don’t mean that i actually
saw the fly go into the bone’s mouth at fifty feet. i just knew it ate it. this is one of the hardest things to explain
to those who have not done this a lot. i
think it is one of those things that simply can’t be explained in words. any attempt to describe it only makes it more
difficult for those who want to learn and makes the describer look like they
don’t really know what they are talking about to those who do know. anyway, i saw the fish eat and at that same
instant felt a bump, like the fly hitting the inside of the bones mouth or its
crusher. this tiny seemingly
insignificant bump was probably the reason i was able to ultimately land this
fish. what the bump told me was that the fish had taken the
fly deep and chances were good that i would get a solid hookup. i had a chance.
i set up on the fish and immediately laid
into it with every fiber of graphite that six weight had. the bone thrashed around in the shallow water
throwing huge amounts of spray, exactly what i wanted. the fish tried to take off but i had gotten
the jump on it and could keep it from obtaining its legendary top speed. from there i made the fish work for every
inch of running line and pushed the limits of my little set up from tippet to rod butt. there were still some sketchy moments during
the battle (there always is when using a light rod and click pawl reel) still only about
ten feet of backing made it to the water.
landing a fish around here with my fly line
unscathed is always a good thing. taking
selfies with bigger fish, on the other hand, not a whole lot of fun and part of the
reason i love catching rats. i managed
to snap off a few photos without too much stress to the fish or myself, though
i think the fish got the better of me on that front. we parted company, both a little tired and a
bit wiser from the experience. i guess
that’s the game. i ‘ll see you on the
water.
that's the game.
these days i prefer the company of rats like this, but i still maintain a "have fly, will cast" attitude and, like i always say, hook'em first and worry about the rest later.
as the eternal quest for good times rolls on.
clay.