Monthly Archives: September 2025

Getting Started In Saltwater Fly Fishing

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Photo by Louis Cahill

Photo by Louis Cahill

By Owen Plair

Saltwater Fly fishing is sort of like the X-Games of Fly Fishing.

Not only are you catching bigger fish in saltwater but the fish that you are targeting fight a hell of a lot harder than most freshwater fish! Whether it’s a 150 lb Tarpon doing the leap of faith oceanside off Islamorada or a GT ripping 100 yards of backing off in mere seconds off the coast of South Africa. There are tons of these kinds of species that make saltwater fly fishing seem intense but also desirable. Who doesn’t want to catch a bad ass fish on fly, sight fishing?

Now don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love freshwater fly fishing, and always will, because fly fishing is fly fishing, no matter what species of fish you’re targeting. Now I’m sure a lot of you have never done any saltwater fly fishing and that’s what this article is for– to get you started. Because after watching videos, reading articles, and seeing pictures, it’s time to make the move.

Here are a few key things to get you started.

The number one thing is your cast. You absolutely positively need to learn how to Double Haul! There are tons of instructional videos out there but I always feel a good Casting School at your local fly shop or casting lesson will be the best. Before you make that move you’ll need to get your first saltwater setup. Saltwater rods have a very different action and you’re gonna need something to practice with.

I always recommend buying a 4pc 8wt rod with some kind of large arbor reel, basically a setup that will work for Redfish, Snook, Bonefish, Baby Tarpon, and many more saltwater species. These days you can get a pretty decent rod and reel combo for around $200-$300, which is a good way to start. I always feel that spending a little more money on better gear pays off in the long run, because better products have pretty hefty warranties, and hold up forever.

If I were you, then I’d spend around $400-$600 on a good salt water reel, and $600-$800 on a good saltwater rod, because they will perform better, and last longer. Hate to see you lose your first Redfish or Bonefish because of a crappy reel or rod.

Once you feel good about your double haul, start working on distance and accuracy. Remember, a good day on the water starts in the back yard. I always feel a good cast on the bow of my boat is around 60-80 feet but most times you can get close enough to make it happen with a 40-60 foot cast. Just be aware, the farther you can throw, the better your day will be.

In saltwater you can only get so close to the fish, either with a boat or wading. You’re sight fishing in shallow water situations most of the time and fish will spook if you get too close, which is why a long cast is key.

It’s a lot different than floating a nymph and mending a 15ft cast from a drift boat. I like to put a 5 gallon bucket out so anglers can practice leading fish and working on their accuracy. Put a piece of bright colored yarn on the end of the leader so you can see how you would be presenting an actual fly. The number one thing to remember is that double hauling is a muscle memory sort of thing, so it only takes 5-10 minutes a day, 4-5 times a week for your body to get used to the cast, but practice is key to learning. After a few weeks of casting and getting used to the feel of your 8wt, it’s time to book a trip.

Talk with your spouse.

Get the green light to book a few days somewhere for saltwater fly fishing. Keep in mind, bringing a buddy will keep costs way down if things are split two ways. I always say that Redfish is a good way to get started and there are plenty of places to do that, all the way from Florida to Texas.

The good thing about Redfish is that they are not the hardest saltwater species to catch and will give you a lot of different visual situations to learn from. Putting that cast to use off the bow of a flats boat will change your life forever, especially after watching a Redfish smash the fly you put in front of him. I can’t tell you how many anglers I see each year catch their first saltwater fish on fly. The smile on their face when they take everything they learned, and put it all to use, says it all.

I promise, after your first experience saltwater fly fishing, you’ll want to do it all the time. Now it’s time to book some trips to some bad ass places and catch some bad ass fish. The destinations are endless and most of them tropical which is a plus for bringing your family and friends.

Places like the Everglades, Florida Keys, Bahamas, Belize, Mexico, South Africa, and so many more awesome destinations to catch Tarpon, Bonefish, Snook, and Permit which are species high on any angler’s list. I find that saltwater fly fishing is not just about catching a fish, but what it took to see that fish eat your fly. If you haven’t got the chance to experience a day on the bow of a boat in the salt, its time to turn it up a notch, my friends.

Owen Plair
Gink & Gasoline
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 Flood-tide

Skunked

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Hickman casting in the gale. Photo Louis Cahill

Hickman casting in the gale. Photo Louis Cahill

By Louis Cahill

I pour myself a stiff rye whisky and settle in on the couch to watch the rain. I’ve had this coming to me for quite some time.

There are no steelhead rivers in Georgia, or anywhere near Georgia. For me to chase these fish I love usually means spending a minimum of five hours in a middle seat, both ways, and parting with a substantial chunk of the annual fishing budget. I do it every time I get the chance.

I cut my teeth on the tributaries of the Great Lakes, fishing huge garish glow bugs, but once I learned to cast a Spey rod and felt the pull of a wild Pacific steelhead the lake run fish didn’t scratch the itch any longer. There’s nothing wrong with those great fish, I had just moved on. Years later I find myself with a pile of two-handers and a suitcase full of frequent-flier miles. However geographically undesirable, I can’t give up steelhead.

Let’s face it, swinging flies for steelhead is stupid. That’s to say that there are a hundred better ways to catch them. If catching fish is what you care about, fish bait. Ok. Please don’t fish bait but get yourself a box of beads or a handful of egg flies or marabou jigs and tear them up. The guys you see swinging flies are in it for something else. Even though I’m one of them, I’m not sure exactly what.

I can, and have, gotten very romantic about it but I’ll spare you for now. There’s just something about the whole process, the feel of the swing, the elaborate and hopefully beautiful cast, the elegant flies and complex lines and, of course, the grab of the fish that feeds some need I don’t fully understand. I want to catch fish. Desperately sometimes but not so desperately that I pick up the nymph rod. Not because I’m too good for it but because it’s not what I want.

SkunkThe cost of this mania, as anyone who has ever done it knows, is the ever present risk of getting skunked. It’s always right there with you. It’s on the plane next to you. It’s in the boat. It’s low-holing you in every run. It snuggles up next to you in the bed, its awkward boner pressed against your backside. It’s in you dreams. Dreams where suave Disneyesque skunks bring you heart-shaped boxes of goose eggs. From the minute you pick up the long rod with two feet of cork, the skunk is riding shotgun.

Here’s the uncomfortable truth.

Up to now I have never been blanked. I have no explanation, certainly not skill. Call it karma or luck or good fortune, steelhead have always been remarkably generous with me. Even under bad conditions they have rewarded my modest flies, blown casts and poor swings with vicious grabs and blistering runs with a regularity which makes me just a little uncomfortable. Every steelheader knows they are going to be blanked and I have been waiting my turn for some time. It’s kind of been making me crazy. Every time I throw down a wad of cash on a plane ticket and start tying flies that axe lifts up over my head.

***

For three days now the skunk and I have been sitting on a buddy’s couch in coastal Oregon, drinking whisky, petting the dogs and watching it pour rain. We watch the tree limbs dance outside the window. We lay back and watch the drops splatter on the sky light. We stand in the door watching puddles fill and run together and the skunk takes my hand and whispers, “I love you.”

Misery loves company and I have plenty. There are five guys, plus my buddy’s new wife, crammed into the eight-hundred square foot house. Everyone is high or drunk and each of us has strong opinions on topics ranging from catch-and-release and fishing pressure to who’s going to wash the dishes and clean the muddy boot tracks. Everybody’s getting cranky. Survival depends on a sense of humor, a tolerance for liquor and the good sense to clean up after yourself.

By day four, most of the crew has drifted away to work or whatever they are obligated to do on Mondays. That’s when the rain starts to ease up. My buddy and I drive a labyrinth of muddy logging roads searching for some piece of water we can convince ourselves is green. It’s a cocktail of rationalization and boredom, shaken and poured over a handful of desperation, served cold and soaking wet.

We find a small river, swollen and dark but decidedly green, or greenish at least. We string up the shortest rods we have and drop in the raft. We row downstream to the first good run and we’ve already forgotten that we’re hungover. We slide into the rhythm of cast, step, swing and everything else fades away. Everything, that is, except the skunk.

A couple of hours in, we are wading a run that’s chest deep when the sky starts to boil and the wind picks up.

10082_BlackRain starts to pepper my glasses and sting my face. It comes on suddenly. The wind whips ribbons on the water. Thirty miles per hour, forty, gusts of fifty. It blows the raft out of the water and onto the bank. We can barely hold onto the rods. The skunk smiles and takes my hand.

The next morning I drive the 101 up the coast to Washington’s Olympic Peninsula. I have one more day of fishing with some friends from Bainbridge Island. We put on at dawn and row down to the first run. I take the lower end and swing some water that I know is too heavy. Finally I reel up and walk around the next bend where I find a nice bucket. I start swinging and lengthening my line and before I have the head fully out of the tip-top I get a solid grab but no hookup.

The rest of the day is casting practice. Late in the afternoon we reach a run that looks promising. The best water we’ve fished all day. I work it relentlessly, meticulously, making long casts and careful swings. I wade deep, almost over my waders. The skunk has to sit on my shoulders. I swing the whole run without so much as a pluck. I’m chilled to the bone.

We row down to the next run and I stay in the boat, trying to warm up. Looking up river I can see another boat floating into the run I just swung. They are fishing indicators and most likely beads. They land a nice fish and stop for a photo. Good for them. Me and the skunk are done. It’s getting dark and I’m too cold to get back in the water.

pewOn the plane home I order two Jack Daniels. One for me and one for my new best friend, the skunk. I settle in for the five hour flight. I plug in my headphones and scroll through the movies. I eat my peanuts. I’ve drawn a big fat blank and what I’ve learned is, it’s not as bad as I thought. It was actually a great trip. I saw some good friends and stood in some beautiful rivers. I guess that’s satisfying but mostly I just feel relieved. I got it over with. Like losing my virginity.

When I get home I already have an email from my buddy in Oregon. “The river is coming back into shape and it’s looking good. You need to come back out.” I do want to catch fish, but not that badly. It feels good to be home and far away from those steelhead. The skunk turns to me and with a smile says, “Let’s go bonefishing!”

 

Louis Cahill
Gink & Gasoline
www.ginkandgasoline.com
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Dealing With Stuck Ferrules The Right Way

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Screen-Shot-2016-04-27-at-12.09.33-PM

Here’s the best way to separate stuck ferrules on a fly rod.

Ferrules stick. It’s a fact of life and when pulling them apart you can break a rod if you’re not careful. I learned this trick from an old friend and skilled bamboo rod maker, Gary Lacey. With the help of a friend you can separate those stuck ferrules in a second with no risk to you rod.

Check out this video and see how to separate seriously stuck ferrules on a fly rod.

Louis Cahill
Gink & Gasoline
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Friends Don’t Let Friends Fish Muds

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Kent Seals The Deal Photo by louis Cahill

Kent Seals The Deal Photo by louis Cahill

“This is the kind of bonefishing that ruins you. The kind of fishing that impairs your ability to make good decisions.”

The sky is a perfect robin’s egg blue. Reflections of the morning sun dance on the underside on the mangroves giving the bright green leaves an unnatural glow. A breath of breeze cools my face in contrast to the warm sun on my back. Sixty or seventy yards in front of the boat there is a small school of nice size bonefish moving our way along the edge of the mangroves. It is a perfect morning on South Andros.

This flat is called Dodum. Dodum flat is a large white sand flat adjacent to the ocean at the mouth of Dodum Creek. The sand of the flat is as perfect as fresh snow and the water is a uniform depth of one to four feet depending on the tide. With the tide out, it’s a great wade and with it in, you can spend a whole day poling a boat around it. Dodum is big. Picture a Wal-Mart. Now picture the piece of land a Wal-Mart sits on, parking lot and loading docks included. Dodum is five times that size.

The tide is just beginning to fall and Captain Freddy is poling Kent and me along the mangroves at the edge of the flat. We are picking up fish as they come out of the mangroves with the tide. They are nice fish, averaging five or six pounds and there are plenty of them. We’re putting good numbers on the board early.

This is Kent’s first trip to South Andros. It’s my favorite place in the world to fish and he’s listened to me go on about it for countless hours. It’s our third day of fishing and, though the fishing has been good, Kent has yet to have one of those South Andros ‘magic days’. Almost anyone who has fished this place knows what I’m talking about. When the stars line up, things happen on South Andros that make your friends call you a liar.

Though Kent and I fish together all the time and have made some truly epic trips together, it just hasn’t worked out for us to make this trip. I’ve lost count of the days I’ve spent on Andros, but for me this trip is special. This time I get to show my best fishing buddy my favorite water in the world. Any fish I catch is a surplus to my excitement. Watching Kent, a look of child-like wonder on his face, soak in the beauty of this place and feel the power of these fish, that’s what I’m here for.

“You picked a fine time to leave me Lucille,” Freddy bursts into song as Kent hooks up and is instantly deep into his backing. “Four hungry children and a wife in the fields,” this is hysterical in a Bahamian accent. Kent now has to stifle a fit of laughter while having his ass handed to him. As the fish turns sharply back towards the mangroves Freddy starts in on a chorus of “Baby Please Don’t Go.” It’s not yet 10 a.m. And this is already one of my most memorable days of fishing.

As the sun climbs into the sky and water spills into the Tongue of the Ocean, Dodum reveals its true beauty to us. The sand glows a bright yellow as far as the eye can see. With only the slightest wind the water is transparent, moving only enough to give the illusion that the flat is alive. Like a mirage on the desert. Standing on the bow of the boat, endless white sand in every direction, you feel more like Lawrence of Arabia than a bonefisherman. You feel like you are on a quest, not a fishing trip. You feel the sun, the air, the water. You feel alive.

Freddy is giving us a lengthy dissertation on the art of keeping a woman happy. A subject on which he is, in his own mind at least, the leading expert and I have heard some anecdotal evidence to that effect. He trails off in mid-sentence as if he suddenly forgot what he was saying. His eyes are fixed on the horizon in the direction of the creek mouth. Without diverting his eyes, Freddy plants the end of the push pole ninety degrees to port and turns the boat sharply. With newfound urgency he poles the boat toward the center of the flat as his dissertation resumes.

It is several minutes before Kent and I see what Freddy sees. A school of bonefish pouring from the creek onto the flat with the falling tide. At first we think our eyes are playing tricks on us. It can’t be what it looks like. But this is South Andros, where the flats are paved in gold, and anything is possible. Soon, there is no question. Our hearts race and our breath becomes short as we watch a thousand bonefish close on the boat.

Captain Freddy is a savvy guide. He poles us past the line of the school of fish and turns the boat 180 degrees so the sun is at our back. We are as excited as children. Only once or twice have I seen a school this big and never under such perfect conditions. I can’t believe how lucky we are. “That’s a huge school of fish Freddy!” I say, my voice full of excitement.

“Yes it is.” Freddy is grinning like a Cheshire Cat. He gestures to his right, “so is that one.” A second school of fish, as large as the first, is moving onto the flat from the ocean side. The two schools converge and a feeding frenzy ensues. Two-thousand bonefish rooting like hogs in the sand of Dodum flat. They flash like glitter in a snow globe. A cloud of mud spreads over the flat. The flashing of the fish becomes muted, like lightning in a thunder cloud. Kent makes a cast.

“Friends don’t let friends fish muds.”

That’s what my buddy Andrew always says. It’s a joke that Kent doesn’t yet understand but he soon will. This is dangerous fishing. Like the kid who thinks he’ll just try meth this once to see what all the fuss is about and finds himself six months later, toothless and holding up a liquor store. This is the kind of bonefishing that ruins you. The kind of thing that you never quite get out of your system. The kind of fishing that impairs your ability to make good decisions. And when Kent is sitting drunk and dirty at the boat launch, his house and family gone, selling conch shells, I’ll be the one who is to blame.

Kent hooks up and jumps down into the cockpit to fight his fish. I take the bow and hook up immediately. When Kent releases his fish I jump down and he takes the bow, hooking up on his first cast. And so it goes, like some industrial bonefishing machine until our arms tremble with exhaustion. An hour and a half, maybe two. I tell my friends that we each caught seventy-five fish but in my heart I know it was more.

When the school finally moves on we stop for lunch, dripping with sweat. We look at each other and say, “man, unbelievable.” We take a bite of our sandwiches and say it again, several times. Even Freddy is beyond words. I wanted to show my friend my favorite place. I wanted him to see the magic. I wanted to show him South Andros, and South Andros showed us both something. And now we are both ruined.

Come fish with us in the Bahamas!

Louis Cahill
Gink & Gasoline
www.ginkandgasoline.com
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So You Wanna Run Down the Man?

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Photos by Kyle Banashek

Photos by Kyle Banashek

By Kyle Banashek

Roosterfish (pez gallo) in my opinion, are by far one the hardest fighting and elusive fish that can be pursued with a fly rod.

Most of you by now have seen some type of video where anglers are cruising down the beach in a side-by-side or quad, sprinting along pristine desolate beaches to make a hail Mary cast at a rooster 15 feet off the surf and then sipping margaritas in the evening celebrating their victory of the day. Well, you know the saying ‘that only happens in the movies’…although it’s not 100% true in this case, however you’re damn lucky if you head down to Baja and land one without preparing for this pursuit. Just to be clear, I’m not claiming to be the authority on how to catch roosters. My intention is to share what I’ve learned in my experiences down on the east cape of Mexico chasing them.

Background

695To give you some background on how this obsession began, it wasn’t through any type of movie or social media pics of grandes (roosters 40lbs+) but actually through something I witnessed with my own two eyes. Back in May of 2012, my girlfriend and I had just broken up; so what better way to move on than a boys fishing trip to Cabo? With two of my more salt-worthy amigos on board, getting their passports stamped south of the border, coupled with the opportunity to land marlin, dorado, tuna, etc…it was game on. Since I was the one in charge of logistics I chose to stay just north of Cabo San Lucas in San Jose del Cabo so that we had fewer distractions from sleep at night, but was there if we “needed” it. Fishing with the Gordo Banks fleet, on our second day while at the dock one of the captains mentioned there were lots of roosters on the beach. Even though all of us had billfish on our cloudy sleep-deprived brains, we decided, “why not?” We trolled for them about 50ft off the beach using cabillito and landed a good number among the three of us. But on one our passes while trolling, I noticed something on the beach after the wave retracted. It was probably close to a 30lb rooster laying on the sand. For a second I wondered, was it dead?? And then the next wave came in and the mystery was solved as I saw four to five different sets of rooster combs going ballistic chasing baitfish onto the beach. And then again, one guy didn’t make the last call and was stuck waiting for the next wave to take him back to the lion’s den. I had never seen any fish exhibit that type of aggression, and at that point I remember thinking, “man, I bet they are fun as hell on a fly rod.”

In late spring, 2014, with a couple additional trips back to southern Baja under my belt, I decided that I needed more time to dedicate chasing roosters.  So I moved down to Los Barriles, a small town about 70 miles north of San Jose Del Cabo, located smack in the middle of rooster alley for 5 months. Now that might raise some questions. I work remotely so as long as I have a stable internet connection with decent speeds, I’m good to go. With my quad that I had purchased back in San Diego rigged with rod holders and baskets for ample storage I was ready to tangle with some of those grandes on my 10wt, or so I thought.

Lessons Learned & Words of Advice

Logistics

  • Travel — Getting to the East Cape of Mexico is pretty straightforward and can be fairly inexpensive depending on where you are flying from. If you’re really adventurous, the drive through the Baja peninsula is something I’d recommend doing at least once in your life. From San Diego, it’s just about 1600 miles zig-zagging back and forth from coast to coast. Just make sure you’ve got a reliable car or at least one that has a working fuel gauge — unlike us. Blinkers are also a good thing to have, as well. If you do chose to fly, getting from the airport to basecamp does not require you to rent a car, in fact I’d say it really isn’t needed as the only required mode of transportation has to be able to drive on the beach (do not think renting a jeep will work). There’s a shuttle (EcoTours) that runs from SJD airport right into the town of Los Barriles that has AC and it’s usually a good time.
  • Base Camp — Establishing a base camp on the East Cape just depends on what your creature comforts are. There are plenty of places for rent on VRBO, Airbnb, etc. as well as some really nice hotels within Los Barriles and just south in Spa Buena Vista. There are also some campgrounds on the north end of LB that would work for those not requiring a cool place to sleep at night.
  • 2014-07-19_11-40-23_324Transportation — As mentioned previously, the only form of transportation that you will need is an off-road vehicle of sorts. Whether it’s a side-by-side or a quad, it’s practically the most common way of getting around town but more importantly, it’s a REQUIRED tool to have in order to traverse the beaches to find roosters. There are a couple places in Los Barriles that offer rentals but make sure to book a couple months in advance.
  • Solo/pair/group — The number of anglers in your group can make a huge difference depending on everyone’s skill level and experience. One thing for certain is that having another person with you provides tremendous advantages on numerous fronts. First, if you do rent a side-by-side, which is what I’d recommend, it provides your team the ability to communicate in an effective manner as opposed to being on two quads while driving down the beach searching for roosters. Second, it allows one person to concentrate on navigating some of the tricky terrain on the beach you will encounter while the other person can continue to scout. This is most common in areas where there are rocky points, and area roosters love to hang out in as it provides excellent ambush cover. Third, having sun protection provided by the side-by-side roof while patrolling the beach all day is just ideal.

Gear

  • Fly rods/reels/lines/leaders — My rod weight of choice when targeting larger roosters is a 10wt with an 11wt as a backup. Keep in mind you’re not going to be throwing blind casts all day, you are sight casting to fish that you hopefully do come across and have the ability to cast at. For fly lines, I prefer an intermediate line, preferably clear in at least the part of the head section. Leaders, well I’m pretty simple and not going for any IFGA records, 36-42” of 40lb soft mono and 24” of 15-20lb. Or a standard saltwater tippet works just as well.
  • Flies —  You will want to have a pretty wide variety of fly sizes, colors, and types. The most important thing is to be able to match the bait that the roosters are feeding on. Clousers, crease flies and mullet patterns are the top three I would recommend.
  • Spinning/teasing gear — If you’re fishing with a partner, having a large surf rod to tease the roosters in when they are out of casting distance is a must. A 9’-12’ surf rod loaded with at least 150 yds of line with a large surface lure, be sure to cut off the hooks to avoid a possible hookup as they will eat it if you’re not fast enough on the retrieve.
  • Cooler — for beer right? Maybe a couple, but I would not load it down with a 12-pack thinking you’re going to be crushing Tecates all day. This is for water and lunch (or possibly dinner later that night)! I would say that you should anticipate bringing a gallon of water per person for a full day on the beach. Staying hydrated while chasing roosters is a must! You do not want to risk a leg cramp preventing you from running to make a cast at a 60lb rooster cruising 30 yards down the beach. Take this seriously…very seriously.
  • Sun protection — I don’t care how many days you’ve spent on the Madison this summer, the sun down in Baja is ridiculously strong, amplified by the water you’ll be staring at all day, just waiting for a set of combs to rise. Long sleeves, pants, buff, polarized glasses, hat and sunscreen on the top of your feet — you know the drill. Sun poisoning is not fun, but you know what is? Having a shot at catching a roosterfish on all of the days that you paid to be in East Cape.
  • GPS tracking — This is not a must, but you can find yourself in places that you will not see another person for hours. And depending on the time of day, it could turn into an overnight trip. Cell reception on the beach is nothing to count on, if at all. If you’ve got a device it’s not a bad idea to bring it, or if you have the extra coin, it probably wouldn’t hurt to pick one up.
  • Vehicle recovery — If someone were to get stuck on account of their inability to judge a bank of sand and their quads capabilities. You might not always have access to one of the guys who works at Palmas Cortez with a backloader who will drag you out for 200 pesos. Having a shovel, tow rope and a couple pieces of small plywood is not a bad idea to carry with you.

Methods

  • The majority of my rooster fishing has been by quad or side-by-side, however this is just my preference. There are some anglers who choose to sit in one spot and just wait for the roosters to go by but to me that’s just boring. I like to be actively on the hunt, taking in all of the beautiful and interesting scenery that the East Cape has to offer.
  • You can also target rooster by boat, and in all honesty, your chances of hooking up on the fly are greater as you’ll be able to cover more ground and use live bait. This technique generally involves a ‘bait and switch’ technique in which you’ll troll a cabalito with the hopes of raising a rooster. Once in the spread someone will have to tease the rooster into casting distance, rip the bait out of the water and the angler then presents the fly with the hopes that the rooster has not noticed the clever trick you’re attempting to pull off.

Personal Thoughts

IMG_0567I do a good amount of traveling and talk to whoever will listen to me about fly fishing. Over the last couple years when I mention my time in the Baja, a good amount of people have replied with something along the lines of “yeah I’d really like to get down there and do that.” While I certainly cannot question why one would not, there are some things to consider —and be truthful with yourself — before making the investment/venture. The following is what, in my opinion, you should be prepared for… please remember those three words.

  • Hire a guide – This undoubtedly has been one of the most common misconceptions about heading down to the East Cape to chase roosters. You can just hop a flight, get a quad and just cruise the beach looking for a set of combs to throw at. If you truly want to be successful in your pursuit of catching a roosterfish, you should hire a guide teach you that, no matter how much research you’ve done, you would not have known. One thing to note is that some of guides will not take one-day trips because of the increase in DIYers over the last couple of years. The local guides live there and do this day in and day out, they know where the bait is, what it is and the flies to throw that will optimize your chances of getting an eat. On top of that, you will learn the safe way to traverse the beaches, which may not sound like a big deal right now but trust me…spend an evening waiting for the tide to go down and you’ll understand why I mention that.
  • Physical & Environmental Demands – As I mentioned, there are some fairly significant physical demands that are required when pursuing roosters on the beach. Chances are you will have to bust out some wind sprints down the beach in the scorching sun. Hours upon hours in the sun riding down the beach will take a toll on your energy level.
  • Mental Demands – This facet is probably one that is overlooked by most, but I can assure you that it’s one of the most important. Catching a roosterfish on the fly is challenging. Very challenging (to put it lightly). You have to be 110% committed to the pursuit and understand that there’s a good chance you’ll be flying home without anything to post on Instagram. It can and will happen unfortunately, however you have to be willing to take that type of blow to the ego and get up the next morning with the utmost resilience.
  • Time Demands – I would say in general if you’re planning on a trip, give yourself at a minimum 3 full days. There are many factors that go into me saying this, primarily bait and weather. Having bait on the beaches is one of the biggest factors in having a shot at a rooster. The summer I was down there was a pretty bad year for bait, it wasn’t until Hurricane Odile came through and churned things up that we began to see decent amounts of bait showing up in the surf.
  • Be honest with yourself – can you double haul a 10wt sufficiently enough with an intermediate line to lay out at a minimum 40ft? Is your health up to par to be able to withstand 8 hours in 90+ degree days on the beach?
  • Brush up on your Spanish – although most people in the East Cape are somewhat fluent in English it’s never a bad idea to brush up on basic Spanish conversational skills. Trust me, it goes a long way and to state the obvious, it’s a show of respect which is appreciated.
  • Be social – While it’s always nice to top off the day with a fresh margarita and fish tacos, I’ve picked up a good amount of intel while hanging out at some of the local establishments. This does not just entail fellow fly fisherman or even anglers. I’ve learned of where bait was from some of the most unpredictable sources one could imagine.

When people ask “How many can I expect to catch”…I answer bluntly…”Zero”. – Lance Peterson

  • Do your homework
    In the four months prior to my stay on the East Cape I read and watched whatever I could get my hands on regarding roosterfish, and the area in general. Here are some of the resources that I was able to find and believe to be extremely beneficial for anyone considering this pursuit.

    • Videos
      • In Search of Grand
      • Running Down the Man
    • Books
      • Fly Fishing the Baja and Beyond – Mike Rieser
      • Fly Fishing Southern Baja – Gary Graham
      • Angling Baja – Scott Sadil
      • Fly Fishers Guide to Mexico – Phil Snook
      • The Baja Catch –  Neil Kelly, Gene Kira
    • Understand the seasons/months – in general, late April to late September is going to be your best window of opportunity. BEWARE OF HURRICANE SEASON!
  • Conclusion

Roosterfish can be one of the most rewarding and adventurous fish to pursue on the fly rod, however it’s not for everyone. You have to be understand what this type of fishing entails, the preparation required and be ready for outright disappointment that it can deliver. However, if you enjoy high risk/high reward fly pursuits then this is probably right up your alley. I hope that my experiences have provided you with some insight into what chasing roosterfish on the fly in the east cape of Baja, Mexico, entails.

Tight Lines,

Kyle Banashek
Gink & Gasoline
www.ginkandgasoline.com
hookups@ginkandgasoline.com
 
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