Carp on the Fly – 12 Q&A’s to Get You Ready
Good friend and fly fishing guide, Ryan Dunne has been capitalizing on the growing carp buzz by fly anglers lately.
Ryan commented, “I’ve seen a significant increase in carp fishing inquiries the last two years, and when the dog days of summer arrive and the trout fishing bite goes south, I now opt for poling my skiff and guiding my clients to carp on my local rivers and lakes”. Thank you Ryan for taking the time to sit down with Gink & Gasoline to answer twelve frequently asked questions about fly fishing for carp.
Have you found certain colors of fly patterns to be more effective than others?
I find that the water conditions and ambient light conditions dictate which color is more effective. I typically stick to four different colors when tying carp flies. They are black, brown, olive, and orange. Although the majority of my flies are tied in the aforementioned colors, I do tie with other colors as well.
Have you found certain fly tying materials (synthetics or natural) that carp seem to dislike?
I haven’t noticed a difference in carp behavior towards either type of material. However, most of my fly patterns contain a combination of both synthetic and natural fly tying materials.
What are a couple of your favorite go-to carp flies?
My two favorite patterns are the Carp Carrot and Carp Dragon.
Is the weight of your fly patterns critical and if yes, when do you prefer heavier flies?
Weight is definitely a key part to my subsurface carp patterns. Feeding carp rarely stay in one place, so you want to get your fly in the feeding zone as quick as possible. Water depth will dictate the weight of my patterns. I find that bead-chain and dumbbell eyes in various sizes are ideal for carp patterns.
When would you say is the most consistent time to go carp fishing?
Read More »Trout Deformities
I SPOTTED THIS LITTLE GUY IN A HATCHERY SUPPORTED STREAM IN NORTH CAROLINA AND FISHED TO HIM UNTIL I CAUGHT HIM SO I COULD GET A PHOTO.
While not common exactly, deformities like this are not unusual in either hatcheries or in the wild but you seldom see a ‘special’ fish like this in a wild stream. Nature deals with this sort of thing in short order. In a hatchery, however, a fish like this will do fine and grow to maturity.
This brook trout would have been a solid 16 inches if he were normal. A buddy suggested I bank him. There was no need. This kind of deformity stems from injury to the fish’s spine early in life. There are no defective genes or disease to pass along so I released him. After all, he plays an important role in the ecosystem, at least from the otter’s perspective.
There can certainly be problems with hatchery raised fish. Disease and poor genetics can wreak havoc on wild populations. On the whole, I think North Carolina does a good job and it’s important to remember that this is a regional issue that is best evaluated by region. What’s right for a trout stream in North Carolina is not right for a steelhead river in Oregon. That’s another topic worth some considerable ink, but not just now.
It did get me thinking about some more troubling fish deformities. Specifically Idaho’s two-headed trout. There was a little bit of excitement about it when the New York Times published photos, in February of 2012, of the deformed fish which were
Read More »Are We Being The Best Ambassadors For Fly-Fishing?
Are you proud of how you represent fly-fishing?
I sat in a meeting the other day, a discussion really, with a group of fly fishing guides. Most of them are guys I like and respect. I was very quickly stoked at, from my perspective, how they all got it wrong. The experience left me frustrated and angry for about twenty-four hours. After a cool-down period I’m ready to discuss it here. If what I have to say makes you angry or defensive, you should take a hard look in the mirror.
By any measure, guides are the gateway to the sport. They are the educators, informants and even the evangelists of fly fishing. They, and the guys at the fly shop, are the most common point of contact for the angler new to fly fishing. They are skilled, hard working, motivated individuals with a passion for what they do. If they weren’t, they’d have washed out of the business. Many of my best friends are guides and some of them are the best examples of what guides should be. So what’s my beef?
The first question put to this group of guides was, “Who are your clients?”
What followed was about a half hour of bitching and moaning with the common thread being, “our clients suck.”
To my ears this is inexcusable on every level. To be fair, I don’t think most of these guys are prone to thinking that way, but it only took one toxic personality to pipe up and they all piled on with comments about their clients being idiots, not being able to cast or tie knots or follow instructions. They also agreed that most of their clients did not want to be told they were doing something wrong, an important point I will return to.
I get it. There is no shortage of unskilled anglers out there. Many of them, as the group described, are business tycoons who are not accustomed to be told they are wrong. Still, I think there are a couple of very important points being overlooked.
If you are a fishing guide, you are in a service industry. You are being paid for your time and as long as you are treated with basic human respect, it’s up to the client how that time is spent. I have spent my entire career in service to clients who don’t understand my job and are often completely unreasonable and I have never complained about having a job. If that job allows me to spend my days on the water doing something I love, that goes double.
The root of much of this is ego, pure and simple. Fishing guides, and for some reason especially trout guides, can be a wildly egotistical lot. If this stings, it’s likely true. I heard comments like, “He’s a surgeon, you’d think he could tie a knot.” I’ll be the first to admit that doctors can be a pretty egotistical bunch as well. They say the difference between God and a doctor is that God doesn’t think he’s a doctor. Regardless, anyone with that degree has made a commitment to mastering something far more challenging than catching a trout. Perhaps the reason he’s not a great angler is because his job has left him little time for it, and when the time comes that I need surgery, I damned glad his priorities are not the same as mine.
If you expect to be respected for putting in the time, and making the sacrifices, necessary to master the art of fly fishing, then you’d better first learn to respect the choices of your clients. Everyone has skills. To think that being a good fisherman, or even a great fisherman, makes you better than anyone else is childish.
Now I’m going to get to what really raises my hackle.
Read More »Small Wonder, Middle Georgia’s Shoal Bass
By Justin Pickett
THE SETTING SUN IS WARM AT MY BACK AS I STAND AT THE REAR OF MY JEEP.
I slip on my guard socks and wrench down on my boots until I’m happy with the fit. No need for waders today. The deep south humidity is smothering as I place my Buff around my neck. I dig through the mess that is my gear bag, and pull out my reel and place it on my six weight rod. I’m anxious as I slip the fly line through the guides, but I know that haste often does not lead to happiness. “Slow it down, take your time,” I remind myself.
I peer into my fly box, looking at all of its different inhabitants. Flies I’ve either bought, tied, found, or that have been gifted to me. The colors, the variety of materials. The unique purpose each pattern serves. There are several flies that have not so much as kissed the water, and a select few that have some serious frequent flyer miles. I don’t know why I stare for so long. It’s almost comical. I knew what fly I was going to fish with before I left the house.
I smirk and shake my head as I grab and inspect my go-to fly. It’s a simple fly, but a deadly one. It is a variant of an old, tried and true pattern. The materials reside around a size #4 streamer hook and are dark olive in color. The free flowing, marabou tail has just a bit of flash added to aide in piquing the interest of the fish that I seek. The body is wound with hackled feathers, and within the body are several rubbery legs, protruding from each side just before the nickel conehead. Ah, that’s where the life of this fly exists. The long, webby schlappen and the speckled tentacles breathes this fly to life. It is not prey. It is a seeker, and find, it does. My quarry just can’t seem to resist it once it is swung through their space. Add a little dash of confidence and a pinch of mojo, and how could one go wrong?
As I look over the bridge I can see fish rising, splashing at the surface each time they take a mayfly that has perilously drifted into their feeding lanes. Topwater isn’t my game plan though. The river is running at the perfect flow, just a touch high, and that’s just how I like it. I know this is going to be a great evening. The “magic hour” is approaching as I cinch down on my loop knot and hang my fly on the hook keeper. I set my drag. I grab my sling pack and clip my hemostats to the shoulder strap. I check again to make sure that I have my fly box and the few tippet spools that I need.
For those that fish within its banks, this location is endearingly known as “The Promised Land.” It is a
Read More »Concentration, Relaxation and Communication Equal Better Bonefishing
By Louis Cahill
Concentration, Relaxation and Communication. I wish I could claim those words.
I’m quoting Jose Sands, bonefish guide at Andros South Bonefish Lodge. That was his answer when I asked what he thought was the key to successful bonefishing. As usual, he nailed it.
Plenty of anglers are frustrated or intimidated by bonefish. Bonefishing is a complex game with a lot of moving parts and all too often what should be a simple formula breaks down completely. When that happens it’s usually because one or more elements in Jose’s recipe are missing. It’s easier said than done but if you can accomplish these three things, the pieces start to fall into place.
COMMUNICATION
Most saltwater fishing is a team sport. Whether fishing with friends or a guide, you are generally depending on someone else to help you find fish and make a good presentation. Things happen quickly and everyone needs to be on the same page and communicating efficiently to make it work.
There are some universal ideas that everyone needs to understand in order to have good communication. Understanding the bow clock, for instance. When your guide tells you there is a fish at eleven o’clock, forty feet, moving right, it should be a simple thing to find that fish. You learn pretty quickly however, that everyone’s forty feet is not the same and even your guide will occasionally lose track of where eleven o’clock is.
It pays to take a minute at the start of the day to pick an object like a mangrove sprout and decide how far away it is. That helps you calibrate for the day. I find that guides often call out distances that seem much farther than I think is realistic. Not because they don’t know how far away the fish is, but because we are looking at it from very different perspectives. Mine on the bow, and there’s, from the platform at the back of the boat. It’s also worth the time it takes to look at the bow of the boat and confirm where twelve o’clock actually is before you waste a lot of time looking for fish in the wrong spot.
Guides will also use terms like “drop the fly” and “shoot the fly,” to indicate how it should be presented. Drop means you are already carrying enough line for a good presentation, while shoot indicates that you need to let some line go on your delivery. These kinds of directions vary from guide to guide, so take the time to ask early on. It’s impossible to over emphasize the importance of good communication.
I have about a 40% hearing loss and it’s a huge challenge for me. I remind my guide several times during the start of the day that I am deaf as a post. No guide likes to shout in the presence of bonefish but if I can’t hear their direction we both wind up frustrated.
CONCENTRATION
The thing I enjoy the most about bonefishing is the same thing that makes it so difficult.
Read More »5 Tips For Better Dry Fly Fishing From Ronnie Hall
There are few things more rewarding than a wary trout rising to a dry fly.
Seriously, who doesn’t love fooling fish on a dry fly? Rising fish are like puzzles waiting to be solved and when they are, the angler is rewarded with one of the greatest visual displays in fly fishing. The rise.
Unfortunately, there is also the agony of defeat. All too often your offerings may be refused or worse, just plain ignored. Hold on, don’t go for the cherry bombs just yet. Our buddy Ronnie Hall (Yoda in residence at the Fish Hawk in Atlanta,) has 5 tips to help you unlock the puzzle of rising trout.
#1 Presentation is always the most important aspect of fly fishing, especially when it comes to dry fly fishing. As the British say, “It’s not the fly, it’s the driver.” Practice making the proper casts to achieve a totally drag-free drift. Practice your reach cast. Take the time to get into position. Accuracy is a part of presentation too. Getting your fly to float directly in the fish’s feeding lane is a must. Large trout will not waste energy moving any distance to eat a small fly. Trout are very efficient in their eating habits. They don’t waste energy!
#2 Color, know when it matters. On bright days trout see color more accurately. During some hatches, like tricos, trout may use color to target egg-laden females. Color is not always the most important consideration in choosing a fly. Often silhouette is more critical, especially when fishing opaque imitations, such as beetles or hoppers.
#3 Size matters. When unsure of dry fly size, always go smaller. Selective fish will always more readily accept an imitation which is too small over one which is too large. Often mistakes in size are angler error. It is a human shortcoming to imagine things larger than they are. If you can, catch an insect and compare.
#4 Watch out for masking hatches.
Read More »What’s Correct, Left or Right Hand Retreive?
I cast right handed so I should reel with my left hand right?
Ask a saltwater guide and 95% of them will tell you the correct way is to always reel with your dominant hand. Ask a trout fisherman and most will say you should reel with the hand opposite your casting hand, because that way you don’t have to switch hands in the middle of fighting a fish to reel. I could go on and on arguing for both sides actually, but I think in the end it’s really a matter of personal preference. In my opinion, there’s no right or wrong way to reel as long as you’re able to get the job done on the water. I figured out a long time ago it would be beneficial for me to learn how to reel and fish effectively both ways. That way it would never be an issue when I was borrowing gear from a buddy, fishing the rod my guide has rigged up for me, or hitting the saltwater flats. It’s worked out great for me and I highly recommend others doing so.
That being said, having sat here and pondered this subject for about an hour now, I decided to call a couple of my buddies in the industry to get their personal opinions. My first buddy works at one of the most prestigious fly shops in the country and he told me the left hand right hand debate, has become one of his biggest pet peeves. He says customers come into the shop all the time asking to get a reel spooled up and when he asks them if they want left or right hand retrieve, he often gets the answer, “Let me call my buddy and ask him what setup I should use”. My fly shop buddy argues, “There’s no law or rule that requires us to fish and reel a certain way. Who cares if someone says your ass backwards. You have every right to fish the way you feel most comfortable”. I happen to strongly agree
Read More »Bonefish Heaven
By Louis Cahill
This tiny key is the only dry land in sight. Just a rise in the sand with a little knee high vegetation, interrupting a seemingly endless white sand flat.
The skiff glides silently around it’s shore. The water is Coke bottle green and glistens in the bright Bahamian sun, a breath of breeze keeping it playful and light. In the distance, I can barely make out the dark stripe of deep water between us an Cuba. This is the southern keys. The place where South Andros breaks up into a complex of keys, shallow sand flats and, finally, faint sandbars before giving in to the sea. It’s bonefish heaven.
About a hundred yards ahead there is one sizable cluster of mangroves hugging the shore. Everything else is white sand and water. My eyesight, after seven surgeries to save my right eye, makes the whole scene resemble an impressionist painting. It’s beautiful and, at once, disorienting. Everything in my life now has an extra layer of challenge but I find that standing on the bow of a skiff, searching for bonefish is as comfortable an occupation for me as anything I do. Easier than driving and far easier than anything involving a computer screen. I know what bonefish look like, even if Monet or Dali are pushing the brush. I know how they behave and how they think. Perhaps most importantly, I know who I am standing on the bow. I don’t have to think to do this.
“I don’t care if you can see. You can point that rod and you can cast. We’ll catch fish,” Ronnie Bain told me when I stepped on the boat that morning.
A year ago, when I was in much worse shape and really shouldn’t have been here at all, I fished with Ronnie the first day of the trip. I had been in bed for six months. Three months I was not allowed to roll over. I became so degraded I couldn’t walk without help. The doctor told me to sit on the couch and hold my head up straight for thirty minutes a day, and when that thirty minutes was up I was exhausted and had to sleep. It was so disorienting I thought I might puke the entire time. I’d only been back on my feet a couple of months when I stepped onto Ronnie’s boat. I wasn’t at all sure I could stand on the bow and I could nearly see my hand in front of my face. I put on a smile and made a good show but I was afraid. Afraid that fly fishing, and specifically bonefishing, was over for me.
We had run down south that day too. A long ride down and when Ronnie stopped the boat he beached it on the back side of a little key and told us to get our wading boots on. Quietly, I panicked. There was no way I was up to wading. Not only was I not going to catch fish, I could seriously hurt myself. I was slow getting my gear together and Ronnie got his other angler set up on a wade line and came back for me. He helped me out of the boat and, with my arm over his shoulders, carried me across the flat. The bottom was rough with coral and I couldn’t see where I was putting my feet. My legs shook with every step. Ronnie held the back of my shirt as I cast and guided me, his voice soft and calm.
“More left, more left, a little longer, put it down.”
Within a minute I was hooked up to a bonefish. In the two years of ordeal and pain and helplessness, no one but my wife had been as compassionate with me as Ronnie Bain was that day. I don’t know if he has any idea what a gift he gave me, or if he could see through my dark glasses that I was balling like a child when I released that fish. I’ve caught a lot of fish in my life, but none as dear to me as that one.
“Ok Louis, we got two fish coming, a hundred yards out. Big boys. Coming by that big mangrove right now. You see them? Take your time.”
I look and I do see them. He’s not kidding, they are big fish.
Read More »7 Reasons Why SUP Fly Fishing Is Here to Stay
By Jason Paul
As anglers are increasingly searching for creative ways to get on the water, the sport of SUP fishing continues to grow in popularity with each passing year.
But did you know that SUP fishing is a relatively new twist on something that actually goes back thousands of years? While the modern-day SUP fishing movement began approximately twenty years ago, the anglers of Peru were paddling around thin fishing canoes made of reed at least three thousand years ago.
In reality, this form of fishing has been around in some form or another for centuries because of the many advantages it offers over fishing from a boat or land. In this article, we’ll take a look at seven key reasons why SUP fly fishing is here to stay.
#1. Portability and Convenience
When compared with boats, stand up paddle boards are incredibly convenient to get on the water and inflatable fishing SUPs can even be deflated, rolled up, and brought along with you wherever you go. While traditional fishing boats have many obvious limitations in terms of where they can and can’t go, a lightweight paddle board and your fly fishing gear can be easily packed up and brought anywhere, opening up a whole new world of exciting opportunities and spots to fish.
#2. Accessibility
Everyone knows just how important it is to find the fish and there’s no easier way to reach the perfect fishing holes than on a SUP. Paddle boards are far more agile than boats and even kayaks, giving you an unfair advantage by allowing you to easily go where others can’t.
Read More »Glass or Graphite, What’s Right For You?
When choosing between graphite and fiberglass fly rods, it’s smart to consider where and how you fish.
I got an email the other day from a reader. Here’s an excerpt:
“I am looking at a 7wt predominantly for trout and smallmouth here in Tennessee. I currently have a mid action 6wt that is really nice, but since I don’t have a boat, it’s hard to make long casts with weighted streamers to trout on the opposite bank. I recently found the blue halo 7wt glass rods, and I guess my question is how do you feel about fiberglass streamer rods? Do they have the muscle to turn over the same weighted streamers a graphite 7wt would have?”
It’s a great question. There’s a lot of enthusiasm right now for heavyweight fiberglass fly rods. I have one myself and I enjoy fishing it very much. Does that mean it’s the best tool for the job? Not necessarily. If, like the fellow who emailed me, I was mainly concerned with casting a heavy fly to the far bank, it’s probably not the rod I’d choose.
I like fiberglass rods a lot. I have glass single-handers in weights from 2-8, and a one spey. There are some things they are very good at, and some things they are not. You can make a long cast with a heavy fly using a glass rod but you’ll have to be a great caster.
When you are deciding between glass and graphite, consider the strengths of each.
Strengths of fiberglass fly rods
Feel: Fiberglass rods have great feel, which means that it’s easier to feel the rod load. The feedback which the caster receives from the rod makes casting very pleasant for anglers who enjoy feel.
Tempo: Glass rods are slow. That’s both an asset and a liability but the slower casting tempo which comes with a slower rod is easier in many ways. If you were trying to play a complicated piece of music, wouldn’t it be easier to play it slowly?
Presentation: Because they do not generate the line speed graphite rods do, glass rods lend themselves to delicate presentations. Remember, however, that presentation is about casting skill and material alone is not the answer.
Strength: Not strength as in casting power, but
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