A Captive Audience

Hooray! Carp season is officially under way. I expect it will be another month at least before the fishing becomes consistent but after a solid week of warm weather I was able to find some active fish. While exploring new spots this winter I found a bay which was cut off from the rest of the lake as the water level fell. This winter "pond" is pretty big and I guessed that it might have trapped some carp, and that it might just be deep enough for them to have survived the cold winter. I also guessed it was shallow enough that after only a week of warm days, the carp might have thawed out and started feeding. I was right on all counts.
The fishing was a bit difficult. The pond was pretty muddy and the fish were still moving slowly so it was difficult to detect strikes. However, if there is anything that carp fishing has taught me, it's that persistence pays off, and so, after losing several fish, I landed my first carp of 2009.

Winter Wanderings

The days are getting longer, and the temperatures are bouncing higher each week. Even though I am anxious for spring, I thought I should be fair to my least favorite season because despite being cold and dreary, this winter has not been unproductive.
During the cold months, many reservoirs are drained significantly, both to accommodate the coming spring rains (or snow-melt) and also, as in the case of the Stones river, to provide cold water to the trout stocked in their tailwaters.
I like to take advantage of the low water levels to scout new fishing spots. Knowing what's underwater, the structure, depth, and the type of substrate - sand, gravel or mud, is key to locating and catching fish of any species. Winter provides the perfect opportunity to gather detailed knowledge which can be applied during the rest of the year. Many fishers, especially those who own boats, rely too heavily on charts and sonar and consequently fail to fish some of the most productive spots.
This winter I have been busy searching for expansive flats, and I have found several which look very promising. Just imagining tracking shoals of feeding carp across these spots has helped me through the darkest weeks.
Along with exploring, I have come to enjoy looking for lures, especially plugs, which have been snagged and subsequently lost along the shoreline. Slightly surprising to me is that I do not find many lures along the best bass habitat, but rather along the shores of heavily trafficked recreational areas.
As my collection grows, it's neat to see the changes over time in the design of the plugs. The older ones are skinny and flat on the sides and are often equipped with a rattle inside to help attract curious fish. The newer lures are mostly fat and rounded, and are carefully designed to "swim" at a specific depth.

"moose" is Algonquin for moose

If you ever have a chance to vacation in Ontario, I highly recommend that you visit Algonquin Provincial Park. Most of the park is wilderness - thousands of lakes and low hills shaded by deciduous forest. Tara and I camped by a lake there in the early fall. The park was empty yet, as the hills had not fully bloomed with fall colors, and most of the summer blackflies and mosquitoes had met their ends in the chilly nights. We rented a canoe and paddled all over, spotting birds, beavers, and even a mother moose with a baby in tow. I was uncertain whether there were fish in the lake. The man who delivered the rental canoes to the camp ground had said he had seen people catch lake trout, but never anything else. Indeed, over the first few days I saw almost no signs of fish. I had only a fly rod with me, and I was not equipped to fish deep, where lake trout tend to stay.
Nevertheless, each evening Tara would paddle me around so that I could cast to anything that looked promising. Not knowing what I was fishing for, I tied on an olive woolly bugger and simply threw it in random directions. After several evenings of this, with no results, I gave up and began reeling my line in.
"You'll never catch anything without your fly in the water." Tara said sagely.
Rightly chastened, I picked up my rod and recast.
We were drifting over a shallow portion of the lake, perhaps 10 or 12 feet deep, and dusk was just settling in. I let my fly sink near the bottom before retrieving it with short, lazy strips. In one instant two things happened: my fishing frustration dissolved; I just sat there, admiring the beauty of the lake, and I felt two lightning quick tugs. I lifted the rod in disbelief as line started peeling off of my reel. Several minutes later Tara and I watched the smallmouth bass break the surface and somersault through the air. It fought hard and jumped several more times before I got it close enough to lift into the canoe.
I have no pictures of that fish, it exists only in my and Tara's memory. It was extraordinary, the biggest smallmouth that I've ever caught, but it was the perfection of the entire experience that has really stayed with me. When I get frustrated, which happens often, I remember that moment, and I smile and keep fishing, because I'll never catch anything without my fly in the water.

Warm Memories

Well, it's winter time. I know the trout are active, but I'm not yet desperate enough to stand outside and swing nymphs through the water, hoping a little hatchery fish hooks itself. Instead, I thought I'd recall some nice warm fishing memories instead.
My friend Kirk took this picture in Hawaii some years back. We were fishing one of his secret ulua spots when I caught this wrasse. I'm not sure what species it is, but in Hawaii, people call it a 'table boss' because at the end of the meal, this guy is the last one on the table! I didn't keep this fish so I can't say how it would have tasted, but regardless of flavor it was fun to catch.

Panama Part 2: Isla Taboga/Pacific Ocean

After our stay in the rainforest, we headed to the beaches of Isla Taboga, a small island about 12 miles from Panama City. Among the 900 or so inhabitants we found Thijs and Jeannette who retired from California to Taboga several years ago. Along with their vacation rental, Thijs runs a fishing charter business.
For a very reasonable rate, Captain Thijs takes clients out on his 24 foot panga, fishing around the inner islands for mahi-mahi, jacks, roosterfish, sierra mackerel, and whatever else swims by.
The weather was unstable, but between the two days we were there we managed about 3.5 hours of fishing. We had good luck the first day, with a number of hits and one good sized sierra mackerel landed:

That evening, Thijs arranged for a local chef to cook the fish for our dinner. We were served huge fillets, cooked in a local style 'creole sauce' with fried yucca and patacones on the side. It was absolutley delicious and cost about $11 for both of us - definitely one of the best meals of the trip.
Overnight it rained hard and the water was murky the following morning. We fished a few nearby islands but failed to catch anything else.

You can see more photos from our trip here!

Panama Part 1: Lake Gatun/Panama Canal

We're back from Panama! It was an excellent trip. The weather was warm, the people were friendly and the fishing was good.
We stayed the first several days in Gamboa, a small town in Soberania National Park and right next to Lake Gatun. The lake includes the northern end of the Panama Canal and is well known for it's peacock bass fishing.
There are fishing charters available, most run by American expats, and most charging U.S. prices, but we had heard rumors that local fisherman could be hired for much cheaper. We were fortunate to get some advice from the scientist who ran the lodge were we stayed. He gave us directions to a boat ramp where he claimed we could find a local guide.
After a slightly dangerous walk over a long one lane bridge and along a narrow jungle road we managed to find the boat ramp and a "guide."
Joela was probably about 14 and he spoke no english. He had a boat though, and agreed to take us fishing.
Joela had three spinning rods, one of which barely reeled and another which had only about 25 feet of line on it. He also brought a bucket of live bait and a large, empty cooler. I had packed my fly rod and a number of promising flies. So equipped, we set off up the canal at full speed. After 20 minutes of high speed maneuvering around huge cargo ships, we finally turned off the canal channel and entered one of the maze-like arms of Lake Gatun proper.
Our first stop looked promising - lots of huge submerged stumps and flooded timber. After only a few minutes, the bite turned on and I quickly switched from live bait to the fly rod. The fishing was fast and furious and we quickly filled Joela's cooler.


Tara hooked onto this fish, which I believe is the biggest she's ever caught.

We eventually moved on and after a few less productive spots had exhausted our bait. While Joela switched to a little bass lure and Tara relaxed in the sun, I continued to fish my white clouser minnow which had been extremely effective all day. The water level was high in the lake (November is the end of Panama's rainy season) and I speculated that, just like largemouth bass, there might be some large agressive males protecting their fry along the flooded banks. My hunch proved correct and I was rewarded with my largest peacock bass ever:
It was a great end to a great day of fishing. We headed for home soon after, as the perpetual mists descended from the rainforest to drench us on the ride back.

Thoughts on Victory

Where's the walking stick?
Yesterday I went fishing for bluegills to use as bait for catfish, and I was reminded of something.
I can't remember when I started fishing for bass or trout, but it took me three days of fishing to land my first catfish. I don't feel that catching cats is much harder than sunfish, nor easier than trout. I do remember trying to catch my first carp. That was difficult. I fished nearly every day for weeks before I landed one.

Softshell turtle.
Yesterday I ran across several carp feeding and managed to put a carp wooley in front of them. The first fish I cast to, in front of and just to the side of it's head, immediately darted to my fly and inhaled. We played tug of war for a bit. The fish never really ran far, but I could feel it shaking it's head in irritation. Unfortunately, the head shaking worked and my fly popped free.

Our next President. Yay!
The second carp I spotted was a big fellow, and was heading right towards me. I gently lowered my fly and the carp barely altered course as it hoovered the wooley up. The big fish started to run, pulling me along the slippery bottom and nearly into the water and then let the fly go. I don't think the hook ever set, the fish simply had it clamped in it's lips for a moment. Just long enough to remind me that while I enjoy catching all kinds of fish, I love catching carp.