Proof

The incredible diversity of tropical reef systems is one of my favorite things about fishing in Hawaii. I caught five fish today, all of them different species and all caught using basically the same technique. Four, a lizardfish, a cornetfish, and two papio (one white, one bluefin), were all fairly small, but the fifth was a nice bonefish that I hooked at the bottom of a steep drop off.
Different people have different criteria for when a fish counts as "caught." I reeled the bonefish in and actually lifted it out of the water in my hand before it struggled free and escaped. Many people would count that as "caught," but I always feel better when I bring home a photo.

 

what should have happened...

 

what really happened!

Nunu

 A few years back I had an encounter with a Florida Gar. I was in Miami, fishing with Cordell Baum, when I spotted a gar holding in the middle of the canal.
"Strip your fly past it," he told me "it will follow from behind, whack your fly with it's nose, then turn and take the hook from the side."
I made a cast and pulled my fly quickly back past the gar. As promised, the fish followed, but it didn't bite. Soon, the fly was near the bank and I was running out of line.
"Keep going!" Cordell urged.
In a desperate move, I stopped stripping line and used my rod tip to jerk the fly parallel to shore. The gar surged forward, swiping at my fly with it's long nose.
"Stop moving!" Cordell cried.
I let the fly go dead in the water. The fish turned in a quick circle and grabbed my fly from the side. Gar may look skinny from above but they have surprisingly deep, heavy bodies. The fish pulled hard and I held on but my hook failed to penetrate it's bony jaw and the fly popped loose.

Yesterday, during an afternoon of fly fishing for bonefish, I looked over to see Kirk with his rod tip held high, jerking his fly through the water just as I had done with the gar. His line went tight and, unlike with the gar, after a short battle he brought the fish to hand. It was, not surprisingly, the closest thing we have to gar on the flats, a cornetfish.

 

XD action

I'm finally back in action! Tara gave me a very nice 5 - in - 1 card reader by Kodak so that we can once again transfer photos from the camera to the computer. Now I just need to catch some fish. In the meantime, here are a few  pictures from my recent evening of papio fishing with Kirk:

Papio Sashimi

Last weekend I met up with Kirk for an evening of fishing near Kaneohe. I had fished the spot once before and caught some nice papio.
If bonefish are the saltwater doppelgangers of carp then I suppose trevally are the Hawaiian version of bass. Locals call trevally by their Hawaiian name, ulua, and small ulua are known as papio. These fish are among the top inshore predators in tropical waters around the world. They are are an equal mix of speed and appetite which make them extremely popular gamefish. Papio prowl reefs and rocky ledges, often attacking baitfish, or lures, right in the middle of the surf zone.
We fished with heavy jigs, casting them out and bouncing them back over the sand towards the reef edge. We reached a narrow channel just at dusk where Kirk hooked up right away. While fighting the fish, he yelled for me to come over and as I approached, he pointed to the water just in time for me to see a school of a dozen more papio speeding by. I made some frantic casts but the fish had moved on.
We fished the channel until the sunlight was gone. Kirk landed one more papio there and one more as we waded back through the shallows. I had no luck catching fish but I was lucky enough to take two of Kirk's fish home with me for a delicious sashimi dinner!

 With the camera still broken I can't upload any of the photos I took so instead 

I doctored an old photo to give an idea of where we were.

Sunset on Olympus

Just after I started this blog I acquired a new toy, a waterproof digital camera. Since then, that little orange camera has traveled all over the world with us, taking pictures of trains, temples, food, friends, and lots and lots of fish.

Recently, our trusty camera has had some problems. It still takes pictures, but the little USB out slot that allows us to transfer photos onto a computer no longer works.
Consequently I cannot upload any photos from yesterday when Tara and I took in the sunset while fishing in Maunalua Bay. I fished for trevally without success but Tara plucked some nice reef fish from the tide pools. Clouds hid the horizon but the sun silhouetted them with brilliant reds and purples before sinking into the blue-black of another tropical evening.

Reckless Optimism

Besides fishing, I have also been trying to land a job since moving back to Honolulu. The economy may be suffering a fit of depression but I am optimistic about finding a great job, maybe not right away, but it's definitely coming down the pike.
In the meantime I have re-kindled another project: Kung-Fu Carping. Two years ago I wrote a short article with that title that was published in The Drake. That success inspired me to turn the article into a short book on carp fishing. I more or less finished writing last year, with a lot of help from many wonderful people, but the illustrations for the book did not get completed. Recently I have been working on coloring some of the old drawings and also adding some new images to the mix. I don't have a goal in mind regarding the number or content of the illustrations but I'll keep drawing as long as I'm inspired!

Fly Hawaiian

Who wants to eat my fly?

Click here to find out!

I've been fly fishing for bonefish the past couple of weeks, with no success. I have gotten much better at spotting fish. I've had a few fish stop to investigate, but for the most part they either spook or seem to ignore my fly all together. 

To be fair, I have been strictly sight-fishing, which is tough in Hawaii. Blind-casting is definitely the most effective method of hooking bonefish but it's just not as thrilling to me. Besides, if I'm going to stand around and throw a fly as far as I can (and that's not even very far) over and over I may as well save my rotator cuff and fish with bait.

In fact, I might just do that tomorrow...

Big Braddah Po'o-Pa'a

We are back in Hawaii and I have dug out one of my favorite books: Hawaii's Fishes.

The yellow tabs sticking out the side mark many of the different species of fish that Tara and I have caught over the years.
Two of our good friends from Nashville came to visit recently and we took them to one of our old fishing spots.

We had good luck, everyone caught at least one fish. Justin caught a nice Stocky Hawkfish, which is one of my favorite reef-dwellers.

Hawkfish are negatively buoyant because they don't have swimbladders like most fish do. Instead of spending their time suspended in the water, hawkfish use their strong pectoral fins to perch on rocky outcrops. When something tasty swims along, the hawkfish swoops down to grab a meal.

California-ed

The family of one of my many aunts has a long-standing tradition of visiting Lake Almanor each summer. Located in Northern California, it's about a nine hour drive from Eugene. My parents had joined them the year before and had so much fun they decided to return. Naturally, we decided to go along.

 The daily schedule involved lots of boating, wakeboarding, wakesurfing (an interesting blend of wakeboarding and surfing) and plenty of down time on the beach.

 The main draw in the lake is rainbow trout, but it's cool waters also hold small mouth bass. Not having any experience trolling for trout I came prepared to do some bass fishing. The water was very clear with sparse structure. I had no luck the first day but I finally hooked one fish late on the second afternoon.

The blue bandana around my neck is actually my newly acquired Buff. I've seen so many rave reviews that I decided to buy one for myself. It wasn't really necessary on the lake but I think it will be invaluable for those long, windy days of flats-fishing in Hawaii.

The BIG C

There is a fellow living in Oregon who pretty much gave up steelhead and salmon to fly fish for big carp on the mighty Columbia River. His name is John Montana. John's fishing has inspired me for years and I have long fantasized about catching one of those big Columbia River carp myself.

My chance came this past week when Tara and I, joined by my parents, spent a few days camping near Hood River. My goal was to land one carp weighing in the 'teens. Of course, I could have dreamed bigger but as a fortune cookie once said to me: sow an expectation, reap a disappointment.

My pessimism proved warranted as I learned that the water level on the Columbia, as with much of the state, was unusually high. The abnormal conditions did not bode well for me.

 I spent the first afternoon with Tara, exploring the scenic banks of The Gorge, stopping here and there to look for carp. The weather was pleasant and the water was crystal clear and we found several promising spots and the few carp I spotted sunning themselves were as big as advertised. The next day the sky had gone grey and the air had turned much cooler. I tried fishing but spotting fish was nearly impossible until I was right on top of them and it was too late.
The following morning I woke up early and, leaving Tara and my parents to do some hiking, hit the water with determination - no matter how poor the conditions I would fish as hard as I could until I couldn't fish any more! I scrambled and waded, dodged poison oak and fought with blackberry brambles. Most of the fish I saw disappeared before I could make a cast, and those that didn't disappear immediately only hung around long enough to utterly reject my flies.
Sometime before lunch, tense and frustrated and wading through the muck, I had an epiphany. Actually, I slipped and fell, and then cursed as a quart of cold water made it's way down the front of my waders, and then I had an epiphany. When I splashed down it was like a Chinese fire drill. Carp came swimming from every direction. Dozens of big fish milled about frantically, mocking my seriousness before returning to their hiding places among the weeds. I couldn't help but laugh at myself. I packed up my gear, dumped the water out of my waders and spent a lovely afternoon in Hood River with Tara and my folks.

That evening I stepped into the local fly shop. The carp had rejected all of my standard flies, and some of my non-standard ones too and so I asked myself, "what would John Montana do?" The answer was obvious. For a long time the San Juan Worm was John Montana's go-to carp fly so I grabbed a couple, bought a new leader and headed back to camp.
The next morning I returned to the scene of my epiphany, tied on a bright red SJ Worm and waded quietly into the shallows. I soon spotted a carp cruising towards me along the edge of the reeds. It was a perfect set-up. I crouched down and made my cast. Too short! I waited until the carp was right over my fly and then made a short strip. The fish slowed down and I made another short strip. One strip too many, the carp turned and swam quickly away.

Perhaps fifty feet farther I encountered the same situation with a second fish. This time my cast was right on. The carp hurried forward and I watched it's lips flare to inhale the worm before I put tension on the line and set the hook.

The carp was determined to escape into the large weed beds near shore where my line would probably tangle and snap, but my determination to take it's photo, along with a heavy leader and a tight drag, triumphed. I soon managed to tire the fish and beach it on the muddy shore. Without a scale I couldn't be certain of it's weight but I'm very pleased with my first Columbia River Carp.

Thanks for the Fly, Leo.

It's been a slow year for fishing. Mostly this is due to life in general: Tara's graduation, moving from TN to OR for the summer and a three week trip to Africa. All of these things have limited my time on the water and kept me pretty well distracted. Until today.
Today I woke up early and headed out alone to a little stream where I've caught many trout over the years. The fish are always small so I brought only my tenkara rod (after breaking my makeshift rod I saved up and bought the real deal).

If you were to watch me trout fish you would quickly be able to tell how serious I am that day by how soon I drop to the ground and began to crawl toward the water. If I'm just out enjoying the weather I'll wade right out and start casting midstream. If I really want to catch fish I'll butt-scoot all the way from the car to the water's edge. Which is what I did today. My rewards were comensurate. In three hours I landed three fish over 12 inches, and all of the fish I caught had their adipose fins intact indicating that they were born wild.

 Unprepared for fish larger than 6 or 8 inches I had to play the bigger fish carefully, but the rod performed well and things went easier than I would have expected. The experience boosted my confidence in both the gear and in my tenkara technique.

No Plan B

We have moved! Kind of.
Tara's new job doesn't start until August so we are spending the interim in Oregon, visiting family and hopefully spending some quality time on the water.
This morning I planned to tag along and while Tara and my mom went for a short hike, I would try fishing on the coast fork of the Willamette River. When we pulled up to the park entrance we were informed that the Lane County Sheriff's Department was conducting search and rescue training on the mountain. With their hike aborted and an afternoon BBQ already planned I had to think fast to squeeze in some fishing.
I borrowed a bicycle and hit the bike path along the river in town. Sunday morning had brought out the weekend anglers but I found a quiet stretch of riverbank and rigged up my rod. On my second cast a small trout took my fly. I had done everything right - a stealthy approach and a nice drift along the edge of some slack water but the strike took me completely by surprise. I played the little fish up to the bank where I got a good look at it before the hook came free and it darted back into the current.
The arrival of a couple of rock throwing children ended my fishing prospects for the morning but the taste of success remains. I'm sure I'll be crawling along the banks of the Willamette again soon.

Everything Must Go!

After 7 years Tara and I are finally returning to Hawaii! Tara earned her doctorate this spring and she has been offered a position as an assistant professor of mathematics at Hawaii Pacific University in Honolulu. Congratulations Dr. Tara!

To celebrate her achievement and to say goodbye to many of our Nashville friends we headed out to Percy Priest Lake for an afternoon BBQ.

Of course I couldn't pass up one last chance to look for some of Tennessee's famous bass so I pumped up the boat and Justin and I headed out.

The water level was high and the fishing was slow but we each managed to find a hungry customer.

It was a wonderful day with food and friends and a great way to say goodbye to one of my favorite fishing spots.

Behind the Hoover Dam

Author's Note: I wrote this a few days ago but, due to some restructuring by Google, it seems to have gotten deleted! This is my attempt to re-write the post!

Tara recently attended an AMS special session at UNLV in Las Vegas and so I took a weekend off work to accompany her. We had a few days on either end of her conference to sightsee and we took one of those to visit Lake Mead. I had read about carp in the lake and they were not hard to find.

I had a fly rod with me but unfortunately fishing is prohibited near the marina. By chumming with cheetos we attempted to lead the fish to a spot on shore where I could fish but they would not leave the shadow of the dock.

We spent the afternoon on scenic Lakeshore Drive, stopping from time to time to look around. The views were great but we didn't see any other fish.

CLICK HERE TO SEE ALL THE PICTURES FROM OUR TRIP

Dog Logs and Pink Worms

Stephen, a co-worker and friend of mine, moved to Nashville recently from North Carolina. He has been a saltwater fisherman for many years but fortunately he brought his enthusiasm, and tackle box, with him when he moved inland. The other day we were chatting and he mentioned that he had never caught smallmouth bass before. 

I caught my first smallmouth some years ago, not long after moving to Nashville, and I thought it would be fun to take Stephen out to that same spot. The weather was a bit uncertain but we decided to take our chances, so we threw the boat in the back of Stephen's truck and headed for the lake. 

We fished all afternoon and caught some nice fish, including Stephen's first, and second, smallmouths! The biggest fish of the day took a spinnerbait but managed to tangle the line and escape. Most of the other fish fell for Stephen's secret springtime bass lure (how secret is debatable as Bass Pro Shops was nearly sold out of them!)

Click here to see all the pictures!

Euro-carpin'

I recently acquired a delightful little book entitled Fish of the Summer Still Waters. Written by several British anglers in 1991, the book discusses some of the more obscure game fish in the U.K. The book's main sections are devoted to catfish, rudd and eels, with shorter sections on other fish like burbot and grass carp.

The most interesting aspect of the book is how well it highlights the differences between British angling and fishing in the United States. First of all, carp are probably the most popular British game fish! (compared with bass in the U.S.)

Second, much of the freshwater in the U.K. is apparently privately owned and managed, either by individual estates or by fishing or hunting clubs. Permission to fish such water requires various fees or club dues and access to certain ponds or lakes can be a great privilege. Finally, since these waters have been fished by so many anglers for so many years, a unique and highly technical style of fishing has emerged. British anglers spend a lot of time reconnoitring "swims," channels or depressions likely to hold fish. Often they will "feed" the swims on a regular basis, chumming the area with food, before actually laying out a hook. Sophisticated baits are then prepared by hand from secret recipes that cater to the nutritional preferences of the fish. Several rods are employed by each angler who may actually make camp at the water's edge in order to fish uninterrupted for a day or more.

Anxious to catch some carp, but feeling a bit drained from a recent cold, I decided not to take out the boat and instead try some British style carp fishing.
I brought two rods and two different baits: corn kernels and Rob's Carp Assassin.

 After only 15 or so minutes I had a customer, a nice 5lb (2 1/4 Kg) carp.
After releasing the fish I re-baited and re-cast. Before I could even check my other bait I had a second fish on! This one went just a bit larger than the first, a fine brace of carp!

Artificial Sweetener

According to the National Weather Service, April is the peak of tornado season in Tennessee and, naturally, with tornadoes comes their progenitors: thunderstorms! Sudden rains swell streams whose dirty water is then deposited in the reservoirs and rivers, conditions that make for tough carp fishing. Fortunately, I happen to know of a small lake near Nashville which maintains fishable conditions through the spring. Unfortunately, a recent thunderstorm downed dozens of trees on the access road so I have not been able to get there. 
This morning, determined not to let these weather related set-backs keep me off the water I grabbed my spinning rod and waders and headed out to do some bass fishing. Earlier this spring I bought some soft plastic lures, made right here in TN, and I was curious to see how they would perform.

I was not disappointed. I didn't fish for long but I landed a couple of nice bass and lost a couple more. 
The most surprising part of the morning came while I was wading across a mud flat and spotted an orange tail through the murk. I crouched low and stalked the carp carefully as it glided slowly over the bottom. I knew I couldn't just cast my lure to the fish as the splash from the lead sinker would certainly spook it. Instead I improvised a version of The Heron Technique, a special method I have developed for fly fishing, and managed to get my lure in front of the carp's head. The fish accelerated and paused abruptly. I raised my rod and set the hook. A few minutes later I had successfully landed a carp with an artificial lure on a spinning rod!

notice the white plastic lure sitting on my palm

I have heard of people catching carp with lures, I believe I may even have met one of them once, but until today I had only caught carp with flies or else some kind of bait. And while I probably won't be making a great effort to replicate this feat it's nice to know that it is possible.

Badgers and Beavers

With the equinox passed, spring has officially begun. So far I have only spent a couple of days on the water. The fishing has been mediocre because spring rains have not yet allowed water conditions to stabilize.
However, there are fish moving, and eating. I hooked some sunfish on a cool afternoon early in the month and yesterday I confirmed that the carp are beginning to move into the shallows. 
Between the hungry fish and ever-improving conditions I foresee some good fishing in the near future.
The non-aquatic wildlife is also getting active. In one afternoon of fishing with a friend, we spotted at least half a dozen bird species including hawks, Wood Ducks, nesting geese, a pair of Hooded Mergansers and an endless field full of wild turkeys. We also spotted an aquatic mammal, probably a beaver, and a lone badger trundling down a wooded slope. We watched the badger reach it's den near the water's edge and, quite unconcerned with our presence, lie down for a nap in the sun.

Properties of Water

It's a funny time of year. The weather has warmed dramatically and people have burst into action - joggers, cyclists and even fishermen. But fishing right now is a bit premature, at least if one wants to catch fish. It is a lesson which I have learned the hard way, having spent many early Spring days eagerly searching for fish that just weren't around yet. 
The problem is that water is thicker than air. That means it takes much longer to warm up, and since cold-blooded fish are the same temperature as the water around them, Spring always arrives later for our piscene friends than it does for us.
Yet this is what makes fishing so interesting, and what sets it apart from activities like hunting or bird-watching. Fish are profoundly exotic creatures precisely because of this difference in density, because Light and sound behave differently underwater, because turbulence occurs at lower velocities and because oxygen dissolves. For me, catching a fish is like meeting an alien, a life form from another world. And for that experience, I will happily wait just a little longer.

JANUARY: all caught up

Sometime in the middle of winter I began to dream of fishing. Literally. Usually I dream of catching carp on warm, sunny days. The dreams are fairly true to life and remarkably un-dreamlike. Sometimes I am wading along a small stream, sometimes walking the banks of a placid lake. The sight of a "dream" carp, cruising the shallows or nose down in the mud triggers the familiar shot of adrenal excitement. I'll stalk the fish carefully and make my cast. Sometimes I lose fish, sometimes I land them. Often I'll set up my camera for a self-portrait.
The dreams are very pleasant, but when the unattainability of the experience becomes too depressing I start to search desperately for real-world fishing opportunities.
Such an opportunity arose this week. Between snows, the weather warmed to a balmy 44 degrees with a light rain. I headed out, through a snarl of traffic, to the closest tailwater to hunt for some hatchery trout. I was alone on the water, except for a flock of gulls. I worked my way along the bank, watching for signs of fish. Finally, within casting distance of the gray ramparts of the dam I spotted a rise. With all it's various ducts and chutes closed, the dam produced no current at all, but I rigged up a nymph under a small indicator just as I would for fishing a lively river and made a cast. There was a flash and I found myself hooked to a lively little fish.

I fished happily in the shadow of the dam for two hours, dodging gull guano, hooking trout, and enjoying the rain.
I haven't had another dream yet...

DECEMBER: fly style

In December Tara and I flew to Oregon to visit family for the Holidays. My younger brother's girlfriend introduced us to the latest fashion: hair feathers.
"I could tie a nice fly with those" was my immediate thought, and in fact it turns out that fly shops are the main retailer for hair feathers. So when Tara got her own feathers, I made her promise to give them to me when she took them out so that I could tie some flies.

Tying flies is a classic, almost cliched winter time activity. Many fly fishers spend these cold, dark days at the vise stocking fly boxes with a careful assortment of patterns, sizes and colors. I do not. I like to go through my flies and throw a bunch out. At the end of the process, this is how I like my fly box to look:

Above is my back-up box, it holds 90% of my flies and usually sits unused for most of the year. The box I actually carry on my person when I fish looks like this:

Between the two boxes: 44 flies. Add in the odd salt-water patterns and over-sized poppers I have lying around and you have a grand total 59 flies. For most fly fishers, the discovery that they possess only 59 flies will send them into a feverish frenzy of fly-tying. I'm not kidding. I once read a fly-tying article in which the author pronounced that he never went fishing without at least three boxes of ant flies! Three boxes? Of ant flies? Seriously? It's enough to make me question my methods. I guess I'm either doing something very wrong, or very, very right.