The Way To Waimea

Recently Tara and I took advantage of a long weekend to spend a few nights on the Big Island of Hawaii.  We stayed at one of the many mega resorts along the Kohala coast,  the north-west facing shore of the island.  We perused our guidebook each morning over breakfast and picked a new area to explore that day.

Much of the Kohala coast is steep, rocky shoreline which looks good for papio fishing.  Back in May I broke my 'ulua rod' but before the trip I picked up a replacement from my friend Kirk.  I was able to carry my new 10' two-piece rod onto the plane and spent a few hours each day whipping for papio.

Summertime often brings calm conditions to the North facing shores of Hawaii and this weekend was no exception.  The ocean was flat and the water was crystal clear.  So clear that I could see fish streak out of the depths to attack my lure.  This unusually visual aspect to papio fishing was thrilling but after watching several fish, including two big barracudas give chase and fail to bite I started to wonder if the conditions were so clear that the fish were able to recognize my lure as a fraud just in time not to get hooked.

I did fool a few fish, landing one papio each day.  In retrospect these fish also supported my theory that the clear conditions were putting the fish off.  The first fish I caught in the late afternoon when the light was changing and visibility was poor.  The second fish hit along the shallow edge of a submerged reef where there was much more surface disturbance than the surrounding deeper water.  The last fish I caught on a south-west facing area where the southerly surf was just big enough to ruin the otherwise great visibility.

A Shark Named Iselle

I went fishing on the heels of Hurricanes Iselle and Julio, two storms which didn't seem to affect our neighbourhood even slightly.  The water was murky with run-off from rain in the mountains and there was quite a bit of debris washed up on the sand.  I spent about an hour casting for bonefish along the flat without a bite, or even seeing any signs of fish.  Strolling through the shallows back to shore I caught movement out of the corner of my eye and spotted a black-tipped shark fin in the water.  I have spent some quality time with blacktip reef sharks, enough to say with confidence that this was a big fish!  The gap between fin and tail definitely put it in the 6 foot plus range.  The shark was cruising very slowly away from shore, no more than 40 feet from me.  Now, I should probably have gone for my camera but instead I did what any self-respecting flats fisherman would do.  I made a cast!  I dropped my 3/16 ounce shrimp jig about six feet in front of the shark and gave it a couple of quick jerks but the shark showed absolutely no response and continued placidly into deeper water until it's fin finally disappeared under the surface.

Two days later I got up at dawn and went out to the same area.  After about 15 minutes I found a dozen tails in thigh deep water and hooked a nice bonefish.  It made three long runs and I got it within about 15 feet of me before it came unhooked and swam to freedom.  I fished for another hour or so until the sun was away from the horizon and called it a day.  Just as I turned around I glimpsed, not more than 200 feet from me, a black tipped fin followed by a black tipped tail slip under the surface.  I waited for a few minutes but the shark had gone.  Though I didn't get a good look, it may have been the same one I spotted two days earlier ... is Iselle here to stay?

Snail Hunting

Towards the end of our trip to Vietnam, Tara and I visited a "homestay" in the Mekong Delta.  When I expressed an interest in fishing, our hostess was happy to oblige.  After seeing only a couple of fishing poles in the entire country I knew that sportfishing was a luxury so I wasn't sure what form our "fishing" would take.  I did not expect what happened next...

Tenkara Plus

Tara and I took a trip to Oregon in the end of June, our first visit since moving back to Honolulu three years ago.  It was wonderful to visit with all of my brothers, to catch up with some dear friends and to reconnect with some old friends too.
Of course I brought along my tenkara rod and managed to fit in some quality trout fishing too.  After returning home I put together a short article which Daniel Galhardo, the founder of Tenkara USA, was generous enough to post on the Tenkara USA website.  You can read the article here.

Interlude

On the way to Vietnam we had a six hour layover in Japan's Narita Airport.  While Tokyo is about an hour away by train, Narita town is only one stop away.  Though small, Narita boasts a surprisingly large temple and garden complex which is free to visit and within walking distance of the train station.  Before taking a stroll through the gardens, Tara and I stopped for a lunch of grilled freshwater eel, a summertime favorite in Japan.  While perusing the menu I was very interested to see koi arashi, a carp sashimi dish.  I had heard of carp sashimi but never tried it.  In fact, I have only eaten carp once before, and never raw.
The thinly sliced fish came with a few crisp vegetables, served on top of ice to keep it cool in the summer heat.  Alongside was a tangy ginger and sesame dipping sauce.  The meat was firm with a mild flavor and overall quite delicious.  I asked the old man who prepared the fish if it had been caught nearby but he did not think so, "from the mountains" he replied.  Wherever it was from, I certainly enjoyed it.

The Kracken

Tara and I just got home from a trip to Vietnam.  It was my first proper vacation since visiting Korea last year.  We landed in Hanoi and drove north to beautiful Ha Long Bay for a two night cruise aboard the Paradise Luxury 4.

After dinner activities involved (more) drinking, a movie screening, sleep, or ... squid fishing!!!  I don't know why no one else found the last option irresistible but among the dozen or so passengers Tara and I were the only takers.  After dark the crew plugged in a large spotlight on the aft deck.  The bright light presumably attracted zooplankton which in turn attracted numerous small fish, including some very active flying fish.

The small fish attracted pods of elusive squid that would periodically dart through the glow of the light and then disappear again in the darkness.  There were several handpoles available, each with a bright-colored, weighted jig about two inches long.  Instead of hooks, the jigs had a dozen bent wire prongs on the bottom.  We stood on the deck and rhythmically jigged the lures up and down.  The squid hit just like fish but when removed from the water they sprayed ink everywhere.  The trick was to keep them at rods length while they expended the black goo without letting them wiggle free and escape back into the depths.

The unlucky cephalapods that were brought to hand were placed in a bucket with the rest of the nights catch (while all the guests were occupied with dinner it appeared that the crew had taken the opportunity to relax and catch some squid themselves).  I was disappointed that fresh squid did not appear on our menu the next day but I am certain that the crew must have enjoyed them thoroughly.

A squid boat at anchor. Note the row of large light bulbs hanging over the cabin. The bulbs are lit at night to attract squid.

Justified

I finally made it back onto the water with Chris.  This time we were better prepared and both the weather and the fish were cooperative.  Together, we scouted a couple of new reefs and rocks, including "monster rock" where I hooked up to a big fish that peeled line off my reel for a few thrilling seconds before I lost it (and all of my tackle with it).

Unfortunately, that lost fish was not the only casualty of the day.  Upon returning to dry land I noticed that my rod had a six inch crack where the two pieces join together.  For the $20 or $30 I paid, it has been, dollar for fish, one of the best rods I've ever owned.  I don't usually believe in spending top dollar for fishing equipment, but I do firmly believe that when I break or ruin something through proper use then an upgrade is justified.  I guess it's time to do some shopping...

The Secret of Chan's Reef

I have been fishing with my friend Kirk for more than a decade.  During that time we have fished all over Oahu; on sandbars, reefs, flats, docks, streams, lakes, bays and islands.  We have caught everything from tiny native gobies to hammerhead sharks.  Just before New Year's I had a chance to join Kirk for an afternoon of papio fishing.

Papio are an ultra-popular game fish in Hawaii but Kirk has his own method for catching them.  It is hard fishing but the rewards are commensurate.  The scenery is spectacular and the experience of fighting a strong apex-predator fish over a jagged and pitted reef in the pounding surf is a truly unique thrill.

Kirk picked up the first fish and narrowly missed a second, much bigger one.  I caught the next two fish, with each successive fish a bit larger than the last.  The second fish was so strong I had a moment of panic as I felt the plastic reel-seat on my rod bend nearly to the breaking point. 

Eating sashimi on New Year's day is something of a tradition in Hawaii so we kept most of the fish to share with friends and family.
I don't keep fish very often so I had dust off the sushi knives and try to remember how to cut fish. You can see the results of my effort below...

A Sea Apple a Day...

Way back in March Tara and I spent two weeks in Korea. We spent time in Seoul, visited the DMZ and took a short trip to Jeju Island. Besides hiking the famous Mount Hallasan we also booked a morning fishing trip. I wasn't sure what to expect because everything had been arranged through the Hotel's concierge, a very friendly man who spoke very little English.

We took a short taxi ride to the harbor and were greeted by the captain of a local fishing boat. Together with three or four other Korean tourists we boarded and were soon underway.

Bottom fishing, not surprisingly, has everything to to with the sea floor. It took about 25 minutes to reach whatever reef or ledge or outcrop was our destination. The captain deployed a sea anchor which I had read about but never seen in action and then broke out the rods.

For bait we used long worms that resembled a cross between an earthworm and a hellgrammite. Whatever they were, they worked well and we were soon hooking fish by the ones and twos! Many of the fish looked familiar to me, lots of hawkfish and wrasses, but Tara pulled up one exotic specimen with beautiful pectoral fins.

Back in Seoul we took the train to the Noryangjin Fish Market to see what other fish inhabit the waters of Korea. The market was lively and colorful with a wide variety of seafood. (Including sea apples - ask me what those taste like!) I was especially surprised to see tanks containing large red drum which are a prized game fish in the Gulf of Mexico.

A Fishing Story for Tomorrow

I was inspired this morning by a NerdFitness blog post to try something new. Last time I went fishing I had some success but access to the prime spots was limited by deeper water and waves. Today I decided to pack extra light and bring along an old boogie board to help keep my rod out of the water if I blundered into a deep hole or needed to swim across a channel. Things were going pretty well at first. The board was definitely helpful in getting out to the reef and I started casting at a likely looking spot. I had the board fastened by a 6 foot cord to my belt and it would tug slightly when a wave came through. Pretty soon the tugs got a lot harder and I noticed the board was foundering a bit in the passing waves. Then this happened:

The board broke in two. One half was still tethered to me but the other half was floating free in the waves. I couldn't in good conscious let the big chunk of Styrofoam drift away but I was not ready to admit defeat. So, I splashed after the piece, broke it into smaller chunks, shoved them in my shirt and kept on fishing!
When I graduated from the academy in October, a friend and former co-worker gave me a fishing themed lei and attached fishing lures to it.

I don't know if it was coincidence but these are one of my favorite papio lures and this was my first chance to try them out. I waded/swam my way along the reef with my broken board in tow. I stopped at any spot that looked promising and eventually found myself on an unusually shallow outcrop right in the surf zone. A perfect place for papio. Sure enough, on the third or fourth cast my little squid lure got hammered and I pulled in a nice fish.

Biathalon

For the first time in months I managed to fit in a morning of fishing. Chris, a classmate from the academy, joined me for the short drive to one of my neighborhood spots.

The plan was to look for bonefish but after 30 or 45 minutes of fishing in poor conditions I suggested that we instead take advantage of the low tide and wade out towards the edge of the reef to try fishing for papio. We made it to the break and fished hard for a while. The surf wasn't big but when the sets came through it felt more like we were swimming than fishing! Despite the challenges we had a great morning and I managed to hook up one nice little fish.

It felt healthy to take a break from work and remind myself of the reasons I live in Hawaii. I believe Chris felt the same and I think it's likely we'll be out on the water again soon.

Sole Searching

My parents spent the holidays with Tara and I in Hawaii. We had good luck with the weather and were able to get plenty of beach time in, including an afternoon at one of Hawaii's most famous snorkeling spots, Hanauma Bay. The bay is a nature preserve and has been closed to fishing since 1967 so despite being consistently crowded with beach-goers, the fish are bold and plentiful. Some of my most memorable wildlife encounters occurred there and nearly every visit I spot something rare and wondrous. Ironically, this always leaves me excited to get out and fish. This time, within thirty feet of dry land I discerned an irregularity on the sandy bottom - Hawaii's master of disguise, the peacock flounder:

I have never caught a peacock flounder before but I did have a memorable flounder fishing experience back in 2007. It was our first Spring in Nashville and Tara and I were so beach-starved that we drove 1000 miles for a single morning at the beach in Gulf Shores, Alabama. I waded out with a light spinning rod and some bait and was soon catching little Atlantic croakers.

Every ten or so croakers I would feel a heavy tug and then ... nothing. It felt like being firmly hooked to a shag carpet. If I kept the pressure on, and changed the direction of my pull slowly then eventually, with no warning, the shag carpet would start swimming and fighting for all it was worth!

I probably landed half a dozen flounder that morning. Only about one fish for every three hours of driving, but well worth the trip!

Pele's Bounty

Our trip to the Big Island of Hawai'i, while short, was packed with fun. As I had expected, much of the coastline was rocky. Unfortunately, much of it was a little too rocky and fairly inaccessible for fishing.

I did fish in a few sheltered harbours, including Hilo Bay, where I hooked a hungry lizard fish right before sunset.

The Big Island

I've been fishing for bonefish with my new reel. As with fly fishing, there are two basic techniques: sight-fishing and blind-casting. I've tried sight-fishing but my lures are too light to cast well. My birthday is at the end of this month and I have my fingers crossed for some bonefish jigs that are a bit heavier. I spent a couple of hours blind-casting today with no luck, but towards the end of the day I switched things up and managed to catch a small papio in the shallows. 
Papio are fast and always hungry and this little fish got me excited for our upcoming trip to the Big Island. Naturally, our priority is checking out Hawaii Volcanoes National Park, but I'm confident there will be a little bit of time to do some fishing. The Big Island of Hawaii is geologically much younger than Oahu so it's coastlines are steep and often rocky. Not ideal for bonefish, but possibly great for papio.

Pennsive Angling

I didn't post last month. I didn't catch any fish, either, though I did go fishing, once. The lack of activity is due partly to general busyness, but also to a nagging rotator cuff injury. Even though I hurt myself on dry land, the whole affair has made me re-examine my fishing style. Shoulder injuries are becoming more commonly recognized among fly anglers. It appears that the repetitive high arm casting motion makes us prone to pinching tendons.
I am a confident fly caster in freshwater, with small flies and casts up to about thirty feet but when it comes to salt water fly fishing, especially here in Hawaii, the flies are heavy, the wind can be fierce and distance does matter. Moreover, a strategy of longer and more frequent casts greatly increase the odds of catching fish. For a mediocre caster like myself, this is a perfect recipe for shoulder injury.
I have always believed that spinning reels are the ideal tool for long, repetitive casting and so I wondered: can I replicate that style of salt water fly fishing using conventional spinning tackle? The answer seems to be yes. The major difficulty lies in casting a very small lure as far as possible. The best way to accomplish this is by using a very light line on a very good reel. I knew that a braided line would be very lightweight yet still strong enough to handle even big saltwater gamefish, but what reel to put it on? My friend Kirk, who swears by Penn reels, referred me the site of spinning reel aficionado, Alan Hawk. From his lists of "best general use saltwater reels" I selected the sturdy Penn Battle BTL4000 and loaded it up with some 15lb test TUFLINE.
Now it's time to go catch some fish...

Tide Pool Treasures

Big treasures, small pools

The smell of sunscreen and squid

An island morning

Bristling red and gold

Perched precisely; poised for attack

Too late, it's a hook!

 

 Salty and crunchy

Waving up at the surface

The algae beckons

A tug on the line

It's a tiny Christmas Wrasse!

A gift all year round

Shiny and patient

Hiding deep upon the reef

Waiting for high tide

Burrowing through stone

An indomitable spirit

That's the urchin's life

 

Black-Ops

I met up with Kirk sometime before sunrise on an unspecified date and headed off to do some top-secret fishing. Our mission was to attempt to make contact with a very large, very elusive Hawaiian bonefish: The O'io.
After a supply stop for coffee we went in search of a shady character known as "Mr. Crabs" who would we were hoping would help us locate The O'io. We cast a wide net and soon flushed Mr. Crabs from his hiding place. Our plan was to lure The O'io in with a trusted intermediary. Mr. Crabs initially balked at being used as bait but our methods were very persuasive.
From the staging area we headed warily into to AO. Conditions seemed favorable and right away we saw signs that The O'io was in the area. I was bringing Mr. Crabs back in for a status update when the ambush hit. Mr. Crabs never had a chance. The battle was furious and at one point I was certain we weren't going to make it but somehow we did.

Our best sources indicate that The O'io weighs in around 20 pounds. Intelligence analysts estimate that this fish might be somewhere north of 10 but that The O'io is still out there.

The Checklist

There is a long list of strange and unpleasant interactions one can have with animals. Most people can relate to being stung by a bee and many of us who were curious children share the experience of snake or lizard bites.
Over the years I been attacked by a sheep, stung by an urchin, charged by an elephant and speared by a sting ray. I am proud and slightly disturbed to say that I can now check another item off my list. Yesterday I was bitten by a moray eel.
Tara and I checked out a new beach in the late afternoon. The tide was pretty high and much of the sand was wet so we found a seat on a narrow seawall. I rigged up a light spinning rod with a piece of squid and let it sit in the shallows about 30 feet from shore. There were schools of baitfish moving along the wall and at one point we saw the telltale splashes of a predator chasing down a meal. Finally I felt a tug and quickly set the hook. Different fish feel very different on the end of a line and I could tell right away this was not a papio or any other of the reef fish I had been hoping for.
Every eel I have ever caught has swallowed or bitten the hook in such a way that I could do no more than reel it in quickly and cut my line as close to it's sharp teeth as I've dared. This time I could see that the little eel had been hooked right in the lip and I immediately decided to try to remove the hook. Morays have a unique survival strategy. As soon as I lifted it from the water the eel curled itself into a wildly undulating ball. This may be a good strategy if one is grabbed by a crab but it is a poor plan when attached to the end of a fishing line. By the time I set the critter on the sea wall it was tangled hopelessly in a web of monofilament.

 

Using my forceps I first removed the hook and then cut away the tight loops of line until the eel was free. Now I was faced with the problem of returning the now loose and extremely irritated eel from the seawall to the water.

I decided to use the same technique I would use for a small snake - grip firmly behind the head and move quickly. The flaw in my plan lay in the fact that eels are more slippery than snakes. My "behind the head" grip instantly became a "somewhere in the middle" grip and then the eel had my knuckle in it's jaws. There was some painful tearing as I "released" my catch and watched it swim away.

Mission accomplished!

Spring Break Part 2: Settling Score

On the Monday morning after our weekend of semi-successful fishing, Tara and I borrowed a car and drove back out to the lake for a last shot at some carp.

The water was deserted and we arrived at the perfect time, that mid-morning window when the sun is high but the wind is still. Right away I saw a feeding carp, but my cast got no reaction, the fish just moved slowly off into deeper water. 

I made my way slowly along the shore of the small bay, scanning carefully for fish feeding amongst the submerged rocks. I spotted a cloud of mud and froze. Soon I saw the back of a nice fish rising slowly out of the murk. I waited until it began to swim lazily away and laid a cast alongside, placing the fly just ahead and to the side of it's nose. The carp scooted forward, paused ever so briefly, and then my line went tight!

A few minutes later, on the far side of the bay I watched a big fish that I had stalked so carefully flee in a puff of mud. The sunshine was warm and I was still riding the high from my first fish so rather than move on I just stopped to enjoy the morning for a moment. Some distance away a shadow was gliding through the water. As it made it's way slowly towards me I watched the shadow resolve into a nice little carp. When it came within reach I dropped my fly in front of it and was immediately rewarded with a bite.