Catching Up

My first fish of 2017 betrayed how well this spot would wind up fishing.

     It has been a long time since my last post here. I've been busy with family, work, and fly tying. That's one excuse. Another excuse is how miserable spring fishing was for me this season. The most likely excuse is that I just haven't felt the urge to write much. In any case, I wanted to document how this season has gone so far, if for no other reason than to have a causal record on which to look back.

     I wanted to get out during the warm winter stretches, but something always ruined it. Come March, I was getting irritated and decided to ride it out until the spring runs started, when I would make up for lost time. My first trip, on April 20, to my favorite spring spot yielded one schoolie, which is better than most first trips to this place. Based on that, I figured I was in for a treat this season. 

Stripers on nymphs

     How wrong I was! This river has been fishing worse and worse every spring. Not only didn't I see a sea run trout, but didn't hear of any caught or seen, either by anglers or state sampling crews. The striper run wasn't too great either. That schoolie was the biggest striper I caught there this season. There were a ton of dinky stripers around though. After a while, I decided to get goofy and tried to catch them on nymphs and a trout rod, which wound up working great. That was only fun for an afternoon or so. The best thing to happen to me all spring was driving off with my net on the car roof, not losing it, and having it crushed by an 18 wheeler (like I did last spring on the Naugatuck). I got to Target, did my shopping, then saw it on the roof of my car. That's about as lucky as I got there this season, so I think it is time to move on and find a spot with better spring prospects. I have one in mind, but will have to wait until next spring to see how it pans out. 

 

The highlight of my (former) favorite spring spot

     Fishing in the salt yielded similar results for me. Lots of tiny fish. I was always in the right place, but just a little too late. Rowan L. (CT Fly Angler) had sympathy for me. While my spring river was fishing worse than ever, his was fishing better than ever. He took me out one night and the place was absolutely loaded with stripers. Finally, I was in the same place as some keeper-sized fish. I hooked two and lost them both!

     American shad fishing was OK for me, but not nearly as good as it had been for me the past two seasons. I broke one of my favorite switch rods on my first shad of the season. It was a bonehead mistake on my part. Extreme frustration was beginning to kick in, so I decided to take a couple weeks off and regroup. 

An order of orange Caribou Bombers for trophy brook trout fishing in Labrador

     I had a late wave of salmon fly orders to tie, so my break was the perfect time to catch up. I am happy to hear that the flies have been doing their jobs. I love tying. I really enjoy it. But, after a couple weeks of hardcore tying sessions (and a new chair born out of necessity...ouch), I was ready to fish again. 

A wild, small stream brown that was one of my first of the season

     I figured I needed to change gears, so I dusted off the trout gear. My first solo trout trip of the season happened much later than normal for me. I think it was sometime in June. After teaching some drum lessons, I stopped by a small stream that has been good to me in the past, but that I had not fished in a few years. I was surprised that the water was as low as it was and it made me uneasy. Getting charged by a pit bull made me even more uneasy. Luckily, he just wanted to play. Thinking the pool was spooked, I flipped my caddis downstream. To my surprise, my first trout of the season was a 12" wild brown! Unfortunately, he didn't want his picture taken. There were way more downed trees than the last time I fished here, so that made fishing a little more challenging. I wound up having a really good evening and caught many more trout than I had expected. In years past, I would pull a brookie or two from this river, but it seems like there are fewer than ever in this section of stream. Maybe they move around, or maybe it has become too warm for them. I'm not sure.

Farmington River Yellow Drake

     It was about time for my favorite evening hatches on the Farmington River, so I moved my operation over there. My first day on the Farmington was a sulfur bonanza, with several hour of consistent dry fly fishing. I stayed in one pool for about six hours. There was no incentive to move. My next trip, I decided to focus on the big bugs of summer, the Yellow Drakes. It was a successful trip, other than being warned by the police not to stay after sunset. I've fished this spot for years, mostly into the night, and this was the first time I've been warned. It was a successful trip, so I decided to push my luck...

The big Cream Variant was the winner. 

     I tied up some big flies for the Drake hatch and decided to go with a friend (who shall remain nameless in this case!). I asked him to drive in case we got caught. Since I never had a problem in the past, I thought it might have been a fluke. We fished, the hatch was pretty good, and I nailed one of the hardest fighting Farmington browns I've caught in a while. The fish was perfect and had no elastomer tags. He freaked out every time he saw the net. I suspect that trout might have been a wild fish. He absolutely nailed a sz. 10 Cream Variant, which is such a fun fly when it works. I was riding high until two police cars stopped us on the way out! Quickly, I stashed my hat and glasses under the seat. It worked, and we got off with a warning. Another friend wasn't so lucky and was actually ticketed.

     I went back once more, but set my cell phone alarm to get me out before sunset. It was a rainy day and the fish were taking olives and I managed a few browns from a very fussy pool. The drakes hatched early and I hooked (and lost) one nice trout before I had to go. As I packed up, an officer drove by to make sure I was leaving. What a drag...that spot fishes best right before sunset and into the night. It's a shame it's now regularly patrolled and off-limits. Oh well, I'm happy to have done as well as I did there in my few trips. 

Wild Farmington River rainbow trout

     A Farmington River first for me was the wild rainbow trout (pictured above). To my knowledge, it's only the second wild rainbow I've caught in Connecticut. Wouldn't it be great if there were a lot more of them...and bigger? It makes me wonder about some of the fish I have lost...

Finally...a carp! Small, but I'll take it. 

     The past couple of weeks, I have been focusing on carp fishing. Rowan L. was kind enough to show me the ropes. It took three trips and a couple of blown hook sets to land one, but I managed to land three on my third day. They were all small, but we have our sights set on something much larger...possibly the largest exclusively freshwater fish that swim in our state...But they are so difficult to hook....hopefully more on that later...

     So, that's about it. Luckily, the summer has been going much better for me than the spring. With the rain and mild summer, I'm cautiously optimistic about good fall fishing this year. I will be doing more frequent posts than I have been and will be doing some prep work for the upcoming Connecticut salmon season, so check back often.

My Best Guide Trip Yet

M's first trip - 2013 (4 mos. old)

     A few months after my son, "M," was born, I was ready to get on the water. 2013 was a brutal winter and I had a pretty serious case of cabin fever. Even if it hadn't snowed so much, I just needed to get out of the house. Seeing how a newborn would be confined to his carrier, I figured a quick fishing trip might be possible. I timed it for the Quill Gordon hatch on a local river. 

     Things didn't go according to plan. As a baby, M demanded to be held and walked around almost all the time. It was exhausting. I thought he might be distracted enough by the sights and sounds of nature for me to catch a fish or two. I had only made a few casts before M cried. He didn't want to be in the carrier. He wanted to be held, just like at home. So much for my brilliant plan. 

    After the first trip, I decided to wait a bit before trying again. A few months later, a stroller trip to Connecticut's Salmon River ended pretty much the same way. After that, I decided to pull the plug on fishing with M in year one. In his second year, we made a couple successful trips to the Naugatuck, largely due to the novelty of a toddler carrier backpack. By the time M was old enough to run around, he had gotten sort of wild, that way little boys often do. He was too wild to bring fishing. It just wasn't enough action for him and it would have been dangerous to leave him on the bank. I fished on my own for the next two years. 

The apprentice

     This winter, four year old M developed an interest in fly tying. I showed him some basics and he soon asked, "Where are all of my tools?" I laughed, but he didn't let me off the hook. I had to get him his own set of tools. I had enough of the basics at home, but we made a special trip to UpCountry Sportfishing to fill his box with tools and some bargain bin materials. It was still too cold to fish, but the seed had been planted...

     ...Fast forward to last Friday. The weather had been warm enough to make a local Quill Gordon hatch a possibility. I had a much needed day off and had planned on fishing alone that day. However, my plans change suddenly,  as they often do. I called an audible and brought M back to the original river. We returned to the pool he last visited when he was four months old. I told M that I would do the casting and he would fight the fish, just like we had practiced in the basement two weeks prior (on the rod and reel he claimed were his). 

Fish on!

     As expected, there was a Quill Gordon hatch, albeit a light one. We hooked up on a cripple pattern, but lost the brown trout early in the fight. The other trout didn't have much interest in a dry fly, but they nipped at a sz. 14 Hare's Ear wet fly. It seemed too small, so I switched to a larger wet fly, a sz. 10 Leading Coachman. 

     Bingo! It wasn't long before we hooked up in the tail of the pool. I handed the rod to M. He reeled the wrong way at first, but got it right after I offered some expert advice. It wasn't long before I netted M's first trout, a nice little brookie. Unfortunately, the fish slipped out of my hand when I tried to take its picture. Shortly after the excitement of landing his first trout, M dropped my 20-compartment dry fly box into the river. I fished it out of the current with the tip of my rod. 

M's second trout

     After laying the fly box out to dry, we went back to it. It wasn't long before we hooked up again. After another urgent lesson in which direction to reel, M brought his second trout close, this time a little rainbow. After landing the first fish, M really wanted to net a fish himself. That wasn't going to happen, so I handed him the net with the rainbow in it. The fish kicked, startled M, and he dropped the net into the river. I jumped in after the net and the water went over my hip boots. Like my fly box, my right leg was totally soaked. It was a small price to pay for the memories. 

     We had to leave shortly thereafter, so we packed up and headed out. I took off my soaked socks and put on a pair of flip flops. After putting M in his car seat, I congratulated him on a job well done, catching two of the three species of local trout. He whined loudly,  "But I wanted to catch a brown trout, too!" 

The lucky fly, set aside for safe keeping

Read a Book

Winter reading

     Interpret this post however you choose. Read a book. Please. Maybe read a few books. Fiction or non-fiction, just read a book. If you don't want to spend the money, go to your local library. If your local library has nothing of interest, find a book via interlibrary loan. A library card costs nothing. Where else can you find a free entertainment/education?

     The internet is a great research tool, especially for those who have developed good research skills. It is easy to find answers (or opinions) with a Google search. Writing a book takes mores of a commitment than writing a few Facebook comments or, dare I say, blog posts. Most of the non-fiction angling books I have read have been very helpful. Some weren't so great, but they were in the minority. Most fly fishing authors have extensive experience in the subject matter of their books. They write books so anglers like you and I can learn things more quickly than if we were to do it entirely on our own.

     There are more important reasons to read books, however. Reading reduces stress. Reading helps build the ability to concentrate, which is essential in fly fishing. Reading also hones our critical thinking skills which, unfortunately, seem to be at an all-time low at the moment.

   I didn't plan it, but my winter reading list is completely focused on saltwater angling. The change of pace will probably serve me well. Seemingly unrelated bits of information have a way of "cross-pollinating" in our minds. Study, mixed with creativity, ultimately leads to innovation.

Here is my winter fly fishing/tying reading list:

Pop Fleyes by Ed Jaworowski and Bob Popovics (Stackpole Books)

A Passion for Tarpon by Andy Mill (Wild River Press)

Fly Rodding Estuaries by Ed Mitchell (Stackpole Books)

Fly-Fishing the Saltwater Shoreline by Ed Mitchell (Stackpole Books)


Read a book. Please.

Naugatuck River - Fall 2015 - Summary & Observations

Crisis narrowly averted! 

As of today, it is officially winter in southern New England, though we wouldn't know that by the weather. It feels like we never made it past mid-November. My best stretch of fishing happened in mid-December. With temperatures in the 60s, I didn't even wear a jacket. I never would have predicted that. Like the last two autumns, 2015 was another low water season. It hardly rained at all. 2013 was low, but it was a dream compared to 2014. This year made 2014 look somewhat desirable. Every year, we seem to get less rain when we need it the most.

Despite the shockingly low water, I noticed a big difference between this fall and last fall. In my experience, the 2014 fish were extremely skittish and fussy. Fall 2014 was the toughest season I've experienced in years. At the beginning of this fall, I expected the fishing to mimic last fall. It wound up being better than 2014. It wasn't the blockbuster season 2013 was, but I'd say it was about average in terms of productivity. The salmon were definitely more aggressive this year than they were last year. They didn't seem to be as put off by the low water. They were bigger, too. I didn't land any real whoppers, but caught a handful of fish in the 8+ lb. class. I hooked more salmon in fall 2015 than in I did in fall 2014 to spring 2015 and in far fewer trips. I had a couple trips with no action at all, but very few without at least a hookup. 

With the water being so low, the fish didn't have much opportunity to move around. As a result, I caught fish in fewer pools than normal. That was a drag, as I wasn't able to fish some of my favorite pools when they were in prime condition. Case in point...one of my clients texted me two mornings after a rain. He said he was fishing that morning and asked where he should go. I looked at the USGS site and the river was at 250 cfs and it would be clear by then. There is a pool that is dynamite at that level, as close to a "sure bet" as you can get. I told him where to go and he landed two salmon in an hour. It is one of my favorite pools, but I never had a chance to fish it under the right conditions. I didn't even get to guide it at that level. The drought was bad enough the river wouldn't stay at a good level for that pool for more than half a day. So, I fished most of the same old places, day in and day out. They were very reliable, which was great, but it would have been nice to have a change of scenery every once in a while.

Low, clear water made small flies a good choice in the early season. 

I fished a fair amount in October and did well. November was full of guide trips and I barely fished at all. My clients caught salmon on most trips though, so I was very happy about that. After a wave of guiding and heavy music work wrapped up in early December, I was back out there again. It took me a second to get my bearings back, but I was on it in no time. The end of the fall was terrific fishing. 

Throughout spring, summer, and fall of 2015, I barely used a two handed rod. I used the two handers less than I have in any season since I started with them back in 2010. There just wasn't the water for it, even throughout most of the spring. A couple of opportunities presented themselves this fall, but almost all of my October and November fishing was with my 9' 7wt. rod. A couple of my clients had an opportunity to fish with their two handed rods. I have been using an 11'9" 7wt. switch rod most of December, mainly because I have been fishing some of the larger pools and I can get away with using it. A single handed rod would probably be fine though. Overall, it wasn't a great season for two handed rods. 

With the single hander, I used a floating line and mono leader throughout all of October and November. I caught a couple fish with a switch rod and Scandi/floating polyleader setup. Most of my two handed fish have come (in December) on a floating/intermediate Scandi head with a slow sinking polyleader. The goal wasn't to sink the fly to the stones as much as it was to hover the fly just above the heads of the salmon. I did have a couple of guide trips where we fished right after a good rain. A floating Scandi head and a 7.0 its Versileader did the trick.

The Catch-A-Me-Lodge caught my largest salmon this fall.

As far as flies go, I didn't rely on my previous favorites that much this season. I don't know why. I found that my "B list" flies, ones that I am not without, but aren't in my top five, were the right ones for the job. I only caught one salmon each on the Same Thing Murray and the Mickey Finn. I had one pull on a Sugerman Shrimp, but didn't hook anything with one. I didn't move anything on a Green Machine or a Snaelda which, along with the Sugerman, tied for best fly last season. I had no hookups with any sort of Sunray Shadow, though I moved a couple of fish with a hitched Sunray.

Because of the low water, I had much less use for tube flies than I normally do. The exception was small hitched tube flies, which I used a fair amount in the early season. I didn't hook any on a hitched tube, but got several salmon to show for it, which is fine with me. Anyhow, here is a list of the flies that hooked salmon for me this season:

Ally's Shrimp, Almost, Grizzly Bug, Split Wing Bomber (green/brown), Golden Shrimp (brass bottle tube), Same Thing Murray, Mickey Finn, Picasse, Undertaker (plastic tube), Catch-A-Me-Lodge, and the Grape (aluminum tube). The Catch-A-Me-Lodge was responsible for catching my largest salmon of the season. 

In order, my top three producers were the Almost (6 salmon), Picasse (4 salmon), and the Grape (3 salmon). 

In terms of numbers, the Almost came out on top for me this fall.

If I factored in flies that were effective while I was guiding, the Mickey Finn would come out on top of all, even the Almost. That is no surprise. It's in the running for top fly pretty much every year. It just caught a lot more fish for my clients than it did for me. The other flies that were winners with my clients were the Green Machine, Gray Ghost, and the Dirty Water Dog. Most of my guide trips fell during a period of time when the salmon were all over Mickey Finns, so the vast majority were caught on them.

Like the Almost, the Grizzly bug is both simple and deadly. 

Without a doubt, the highlight of my season was a day in October which brought two salmon to hand on dry flies. This was the first time I've ever caught more than one in a day on dries. Prior to that day, I had two other occasions this season where salmon came up to nail a dry fly. One of the two felt the hook, got spooked, and never came back. The other one was ultimately caught on a wet fly. I'd love to use the dry fly more often, but it is too inefficient for searching water. When fishing for a specific salmon or a known lie in low water, dries can be very effective and they are always exciting. The dry fly that produced the lion's share of the action for me this season was the Grizzly Bug. 

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I am eager to start tying flies for 2016. I need to replenish my stock of shad flies for next spring. Also, I need to tie flies for a salmon fishing trip to the Grand Cascapedia and Bonaventure rivers next June. Until the weather catches up with the calendar, however, I'm going to keep fishing the Naugatuck. The past two brutal winters have been virtually impossible to fish. This year might be a different story. I'll keep you posted. As always, thanks for reading! 

Dirty Water Dog

Happy client, unhappy salmon

Well, it's about the midpoint of the fall Atlantic salmon season here in Connecticut. I'm happy with how things have gone so far. Fall 2014 was the worst in recent memory. Even though the water has been dreadfully low this season, the fish have seemed to be much more aggressive than they were last season. Despite the good fishing, I am sad to signs of the upcoming winter. Most of the leaves have fallen off the trees in my yard. The sun sets early enough where evening trips to the river no longer make sense for me. Though I look forward to catching a big fish on a two handed rod and a copper tube fly, I'm going to miss fishing long leaders and small wet flies.I had today off and originally planned wetting a line. The 20-30 mph winds kept me home practicing music for an upcoming record date (which I should be doing anyway) and catching up on some much needed sleep.

You'll notice a lack of regular reports lately. It's not that I haven't been out on the water, I just haven't been fishing. Guiding has been in full swing and many salmon have been caught. Flies of choice so far have been the Mickey Finn (6 salmon!), the Green Machine, and the Grey Ghost. We even had some success on a subpar day, fishing in high, stained water. When fishing highly colored water, I have the most success with large tube flies. When the river is moderately stained, an Ally's Shrimp is my fly of choice. When it's heavily stained, I use a Temple Dog-style tube fly.

Here is a fly that was successful in very dirty water after our biggest rain of the season. It is essentially an all-orange Temple Dog. I sink the fly and fish it slowly to give the salmon ample time to see it. The Dirty Water Dog is an obnoxious looking fly but, if it saves the day, I don't mind one bit.

This particular color variation is new to me this season, but I have recipes for the original Temple Dog and some of its variants in my ebook "Flies for Connecticut Atlantic Salmon: How to Tie & Fish Them." I did not make a Temple Dog fly tying sequence because the best possible source is already out there.

Click here to watch the creator of the Temple Dog, Håkan Norling, tie his original fly. 

Dirty Water Dog - For fishing the filth
(Note: Only single hooks are legal for CT salmon fishing)

Dirty Water Dog

Tube: Nested 3 mm & 1.8 mm plastic or 1.8 mm plastic w/clear junction tubing

Tag: Oval gold tinsel

Butt: Fluorescent orange floss or Uni-Stretch
Tail: Hot orange Fluoro-Fiber
Rib: Oval gold tinsel
Body: 1/3 Holographic gold tinsel; 2/3 UV orange Ice Dub
Body Hackle: Hot orange rooster saddle
Throat Hackle: Orange hen saddle
Wing 1: Hot orange arctic fox with gold Angel Hair
Wing 2: Orange arctic fox with gold Flashabou
Wing 3: Orange snow runner with gold Angel Hair
Cheeks: Jungle cock
Head: Black or conehead (optional)

Note: If I plan on using a conehead, I do not weight the fly. If I don't use a cone, I wrap a layer of lead tape around the tube beneath the space allotted for dubbing. 

Light and dark versions

Urban Fishing...why not?

Fishing for Atlantic salmon in Shonguy, Russia.
Some buildings look like they are straight out of a WWII movie.
(Picture courtesy of J. Springer)

I've been fortunate enough to fish some truly spectacular places. The Colorado River, in Lee's Ferry, Arizona, is deep within Glen Canyon, the entrance to the Grand Canyon. The scenery was spectacular enough for me to miss a few wild rainbow trout, being totally memorized by the height, color and textures of the canyon walls. Staring into the crystal clear water of Quebec's Bonaventure River can be just as hypnotic. The beautiful blue Pacific off the coast of Hawaii's Big Island is truly a sight to behold. If I had to pick one place to spend the rest of my life, it would probably on one of the Hawaiian Islands.

It can be just as easy to get wrapped up in the beauty of my local water. What's prettier than the Housatonic River in autumn? My hometown shores of Narragansett, Rhode Island are beautiful and have enormous sentimental value to me. When a bald eagle flies over the Farmington River, I always stop what I'm doing to watch it glide by.

Many of us fish to be in places like the ones mentioned above. It's a great escape from a hectic office or life in a frantic city. The air is clean, the colors are vivid and they are places where we can clear our heads and appreciate the beauty of our surroundings.

Having said all of that, I'm not one to let the grit of what has come to be called "urban fishing" bother me one bit. In fact, I spend more time than ever fishing in urban environments. It's remarkable how good urban fishing can be. In fact, some of my most memorable fishing experiences have been in cities. For anglers willing to swap beautiful meadows and beaches for rundown industrial parks and highway overpasses, there is some excellent fishing to be had in cities across the globe.

Jock Scott and trash

Like a lot of fly fisherman, I was initially put off by the noise commonly found in urban fisheries. The traffic sound is probably the biggest aural distraction, followed by the occasional sounds of sirens. One of my best days of fishing anywhere was on the Dutch side of the island of St. Maarten. I fished behind a police station, which happened to be next to a busy traffic circle. The ever present sound of roaring engines, police and ambulance sirens, and car horns was enough to drive a fly fisherman mad. Hitting concrete walls with my backcast didn't help, either. Despite the less than idilic setting, the place was loaded with small tarpon who were on the feed. It was pretty easy to block out the noise when 10-25 lb. baby tarpon were busy inhaling topwater flies.

Some places have a "unique" scent, which can be even more off-putting than the sounds. The Naugatuck River has a slight aroma. It bothered me a little at first. I have since learned to ignore it. I've fished there so much, I'm not sure I can detect it anymore. It's not bad in most places. There is one area, however, that I won't fish due to its proximity to a sewage treatment plant. The smell is just too much for me. It's a shame. There are some nice pools there although, as tolerant as I am, I just can't stomach it for any length of time.

This dragon reminds me of old Powell & Peralta skateboard graphics.
I have to say, I actually like some of the graffiti.

Then there are the eyesores. My newly found shad fishing spot fits into this category. There is trash almost everywhere. There are tires in the water, liquor bottles all over the banks, graffiti on most flat surfaces, and abandoned factory buildings all around. I only started fishing there this year but, since I have been conditioned by other urban fisheries, the setting rarely bothered me. When the fishing was red hot, as it was on a few occasions, all I saw was the water, the fish, and my line flying out of my reel.

Finally, there are the people. In some cases, there are lots of people, many of whom offer unsolicited fishing tips any chance they get. Most wouldn't know which end of a hook to tie on their line. However, for every five or so delusional "experts," there is someone who will offer really helpful advice. The best tips usually come from conventional fishermen, not other fly anglers. The delicate sensibilities of the fly angler usually keeps him or her away from such locations, but spin fishers are no strangers here. Many are totally keyed into what's going on in their urban fishery. Every season on the Naugatuck, the information I find most reliable comes from a small group of spin fishing friends who know the river inside and out.

Then there are the impoverished. Sometimes I find it difficult to enjoy my leisure time when I'm looking right at a homeless person who is sick and living under a bridge. It's an image that can be difficult to witness, especially in cold weather. If I know I might come across someone who has fallen on rough times, I pack an extra sandwich in case I bump into him or her.

Old friends, catching up behind an abandoned waterfront factory

So they are the people you might want to talk to. How about the ones you'd rather avoid? Some are more irritating than others. The graffiti artists vandalize public and private property, but some of their artwork is pretty cool. The dog walkers can be a real problem, especially if they let their dog swim into the pool while people are fishing. Drug addicts and dealers are an unwelcome part of urban fishing, but most keep a low profile and are rarely a problem.

As far as directly affecting the quality of fishing goes, the worst culprits are the rule breakers and poachers. Never have I witnessed such overt displays of poaching as I did when fishing northern Russia's Kola River. When a pair of camo-clad poachers stretch a net right below your pool, you might as well pack up and move, because not much is getting through. The worst part was seeing that activity go unpunished in the less regulated sectors of the river. It happens at home, too. Maybe not as frequently or on such a grand scale, enough to be a real downer.

Kola River poachers hard at work
(Picture courtesy of J. Springer)

Spectators can be another annoying byproduct of urban fishing. Did you just land a really big fish right next to a park's walking path? Have you ever caught fish after fish within view of passersby? Having a great day of urban fishing can be a longterm kiss of death if people see you and call their friends. It happened to me earlier this season. Other than giving up when the fishing is good, which is silly, I'm not sure how to prevent being watched.

Despite the drawbacks, I've had enough positive  urban fishing experiences to keep me going. Unless it's downright dangerous, I'd never turn down a chance to experience good fishing just because it wasn't in a wilderness, or even suburban, setting. I spend virtually all spring and fall fishing in urban settings. I have made memories and new friends while urban fishing. I have taken some interesting pictures that really tell a story. Best of all, I have caught some serious fish right in the middle of the city. All this and very few mosquito bites to show for it!

The payoff: A beautiful springer caught between a
water treatment plant and train tracks.

Crazy Paulie

Little did I know what this monstrosity had in store for me

A few years ago, I tied a bunch of bonefish and permit flies for a day or two of fishing during a family vacation to Belize. Tying a ton of flats flies got sort of tedious after a while, so I tied a little "diversion fly" for fun. It was a bonefish fly in form, but tied in the style of a "classic" salmon fly. My former dog, Paulie, was in the room when I tied it. He was a crazy lab x chow mix, so I named the fly after him.

Originally, I planned on tying the fly on when the guide wasn't looking, then showing it to him right before I cast into a school of wary bonefish. You know...just for a few laughs. Unfortunately, cold fronts never made that a reality and bonefishing has pretty much been a bust for me.

This morning, before I left the house to go shad fishing, I put a backup fly box in the car. When I looked in the box, I noticed Crazy Paulie, still pristine and unfished after five years. I did pretty well today, so I thought I'd have a little fun on my last pass through the pool.

Crazy Paulie, in action! 

I tied Crazy Paulie on and caught a shad on my first cast! After landing a small male, I promptly hooked and landed my biggest shad of the day, a 5lb. female. I landed a third in short order, then lost a fourth. What started as a gag turned out to be a great decision. I have a fly box "scrapbook" that, as of tonight, has a new addition!

The original...I sure miss this guy

Crazy Paulie

Hook: Daiichi 2546 (sz. 4)
Eyes: Small bead chain
Tag: Pearl flashabou
Tail: Green macaw
Butt: Orange Berlin wool
Rib: Pearl flashabou
Body: Fluorescent green floss
Underwing: Pearl krystal flash
Wing: Green macaw, bustard, golden pheasant tail and bronze mallard
Sides: Wood duck
Horns: Scarlet macaw
Head: Orange Berlin wool

The "Fishing Office"

Squeaky clean, but not for long

When my wife and I moved into our current home two and a half years ago, I was excited to have a room specifically for fly tying. I quickly claimed the bedroom with the best natural light. A few months after moving in, my brilliantly eccentric pianist friend, Craig, swung by to pick me up on the way to a gig in Springfield, MA. Craig requested a house tour, which happened to end in the fly tying room. Just before leaving, Craig was going on and on about how much he liked our new house. I remember him saying something like, "I love your new house. You've got a beautiful fishing office with a bay window and everything!" My wife and I cracked up when he referred to the room as my "fishing office" and the name has stuck ever since.

Tying desk (left) and photo desk (right)
Notice the toddler locks

The last time the fishing office was throughly clean and organized was just after moving in. I decided to bite the bullet and devote my January tying time to getting the fishing office back up to snuff. Sure, I tied a few flies here and there, but I really hunkered down the past couple of weeks and finally finished the job. I wanted to get a few pictures of the room in its current (and temporary) pristine state. 

Craig's "bay window," which is actually an arch window
More toddler locks on the closet doors

The big window lets in a lot of light. It actually lets in too much unfiltered light in the winter. It's a lot more pleasant when there are leaves on the trees. The light is awesome for the plumeria cuttings, but I worried about UV light damaging tying materials. Also, I had a couple of framed flies and a large shadow box (with pictures and contents of my great grandfather's barbershop) on the wall. I decided to replace the framed flies and shadow box with pictures of flies and fishing scenes. If the pictures fade, they can be easily replaced. The frames will go into the music teaching/rehearsal studio in the basement where they will be safe. I used to leave a lot of materials (dubbing boxes, thread, etc.) out on the desk, but have since moved them into drawers. I think the room's contents are pretty safe from direct sunlight now. 

Fishing books, The Onion anthologies, Mutiny on the Bounty,
Colonel Sanders' autobiography, etc. 

Another task I finally got around to was taking a razor to retired and/or junk flies. Having been tied in our previous home, sone of them actually predated the fishing office. In the future, I need to cut them up as soon as they get into the room instead of letting them pile up in a plastic cup for years. Another new year, another resolution...we'll see how that goes.

The reason for the toddler locks

The fishing office hasn't look this nice and orderly since we moved in. I almost don't want to tie flies in there for fear of messing it up again. I've been going in there just to hang out and relax lately.  A new order for salmon flies just came in, so looks like it's not going to stay pretty for long. I'm glad I got some pics before I trash the place!

Room for more materials!

Why Fish for Broodstock Atlantic Salmon?

Naugatuck 2011 - Hooked up in an uncomfortably high flow of 900+cfs.
For those familiar with the pool, notice the "wrinkle" that is the big rock. 

Over the years, I've taken some criticism from some anglers when it comes to fishing for Connecticut's broodstock Atlantic salmon. Some of the complaints are, "They're beat up, dumb, don't fight hard, it's an artificial fishery, I prefer to fish for wild Atlantic salmon," and the list goes on. I've addressed some of these in the past and I'm not going to open all of these cans of worms now. I want to focus mainly on that last one, "I prefer to fish for wild Atlantic salmon."

D'uh...Who wouldn't? I didn't get my start fishing for broodstock salmon. I got my start fishing for  Miramichi River salmon in pretty miserable conditions. My second season was even tougher than the first one. I wish I had the forethought to learn the basics close to home. At the very least, it would have learned to better temper my expectations. I might have even caught more fish, too.

Hindsight is 20-20, as they say. It didn't take me long to realize the resource I had in my own backyard. The fishery was a 45 minute drive from my home and the only expense was a resident fishing license, which I already had. Learning the basics here would cost a fraction of what it would cost practicing on the river while in Canada, hoping to get lucky once in a while.

I've touched on the following example before, but I will go into greater detail here...

In spring 2011, my friend John asked if I'd like to fish Russia's Kola River with him in spring 2012. After some domestic negotiations, I was in. The Kola is known for its big, tough, early run spring salmon. It's also infamous for being a really tough river to wade, especially in high spring flows. Two handed rods and solid casting skills are necessary if one hopes to have any success at that time of year. I decided to learn the Scandinavian style of two handed casting in early summer 2011. I can't say I practiced much immediately after my lesson. However, once fall rolled around, I picked up the two hander again and brought it to the lower Naugatuck River.

Practicing in normal Naugatuck flows is one thing, but little did I know what mother nature had in store for us that fall. First, there was Hurricane Irene. That raised the water. Shortly thereafter, a freak October Nor'easter dumped a ton of snow, which seemed to melt completely within days. That really raised the water! It made the water unseasonably frigid, too. Cold, high water...just right to help me prepare for the Kola and Kitza Rivers.

At home, the power was out for days and many cell towers were down. I missed a call to work with legendary jazz guitarist Gene Bertoncini. I was frustrated and had to get out of the house. My buddy Val and I went to the Naugatuck after a few days of snowmelt. The lower Naugatuck was just under the 1000cfs mark. I don't think I fished it over 700cfs before that day. It was pretty miserable, but it was exactly what I needed. I was pinned against the trees and it was a real test of my casting. The water never really warmed up after that and it stayed relatively high for the rest of the season. I used flies and tactics I expected to use in Russia and, as a bonus, I caught fish. That high water season couldn't have come at a better time.

The somewhat ironic epilogue is that spring 2012 on the Kola Peninsula was really early. The water was seasonably low and warm (50ºF+). I didn't waste my time on the Naugatuck in the fall, though. Fishing and wading a low Kola River was still much more difficult than fishing a high Naugatuck River. Under the circumstances, I actually did okay over there. It certainly could have been a lot more frustrating had I not prepared for it at all. Practicing close to home really paid off.

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There can be some unexpected complications when
fishing abroad without an outfitter.
Go prepared so you have more patience to deal with
the nuts and bolts stuff. 

Here is another example of how this fishery can benefit us. This topic jumps around a little bit, so please bear with me...

There is a common misconception that, if we want to catch wild Atlantic salmon, we need to pay an arm and a leg to do so. To some extent, we get what we pay for. You can pay $15K for a week on the Ponoi River and you'll probably catch more salmon than you can shake a stick at. Having said that, there is something out there for all of us, regardless of how much money we make or how much we are willing to spend. I'm a professional jazz musician who happens to be a hopeless salmon fishing addict. It's a pretty awful combination. When I have time, I don't have money. When I have a little money, I don't have time. The week of my first salmon fishing trip, I was called to play 11 non-conflicting gigs! I already had the trip planned, so I turned them all down. My wife was pissed. I've never been called for that many in a week since.

I figure it took me two or three Canada trips, and a lot of time spent reading and reflecting afterwards, to begin to figure out the game. It definitely helped to have a good guide. It took me a while to shake "trout brain" when I was new to salmon fishing. My guide helped snap me out of it. After my autumn Miramichi trips, I'd come home and Connecticut's salmon season would open a couple of weeks later. By then, a little time had passed and I'd think about what I might have done differently if I had another shot. It's tough to get better when you're only on a salmon river for a week or two per season. In that time, you might only see one set of conditions. Unless you get lucky, they'll probably be less than optimal. Now that our salmon season starts in mid-September, we're able to fish late summer, fall, winter and spring conditions within one season.

Because I could fish for salmon close to home, I learned how to better target salmon in low water, high water, dirty water, etc. I learned about fly selection based on conditions. I learned about how salmon react to flies in different weather and atmospheric conditions.  I honed my presentation skills. I got over "buck fever" and learned when to come tight to a fish. I worked strategies to turn "players" into taking fish (this is a big one). I read about techniques and flies from other parts of the world and incorporated them into my arsenal. My water reading skills got a whole lot better. After a while, I felt comfortable landing large fish without any assistance, often times in tricky water. One of the most liberating aspects of our fishery is the ability to experiment without the fear of wasting valuable time or money. If it doesn't work, I've only paid for gas. When it does work, I have another arrow in my quiver.

It would have taken me years, possibly decades, worth of week-long trips to get a better grasp on some of what I listed above. I didn't start salmon fishing at an optimal time in the fish's history, so who knows if I would have learned some of these lessons at all? I practiced at home and brought what I learned with me to my next destination. After shortening the learning curve a great deal, I feel like a sponge when I'm on a salmon river. I learn much more quickly than I did during those first few trips.

Now, I'm not trying to oversimplify this. There are many differences between the Connecticut fishery and wild salmon fisheries. For one, our fish move around, but they don't run the river. You'll learn how to time fishing in rising and falling water to some extent here, but not how fish move through a river system. Also, there are plenty of places I never find salmon in the Naugatuck that would expect to find a running fish every now and then. Conversely, I've caught broodstock salmon in spots I would probably pass up on a true salmon river. In all, I believe the similarities outnumber the differences. They take the same flies and the same presentations as their wild brethren. Unfortunately, they're prone to sulking and general unpredictability just like their wild brethren, too.

How does this relate to the financial stuff above? If you have the money to spend $15K per week on the Ponoi, you'll probably catch a pile of salmon. They might be on the smaller side, but you'll catch them. Want a good shot at catching bigger fish? Ok, how about a week on the Restigouche or the Grand Cascapedia? A prime week might only cost less than half as much as the Ponoi. Is $6K still too much? If you draw off-peak time on the Glen Emma beat of the Matapedia, it's only $500/day and that includes a guide and canoe, room and board not included. Still too much, huh?

Unfortunately for most of us jazz musicians, it is too much. Should that stop us from salmon fishing? Hell no! Over the years, I've made plenty of friends who catch salmon without breaking the bank. Most of them are very good fishermen. Since they are not often fishing prime pools or exclusive beats, they are forced to try hard and persevere if they want to catch anything. They fish public water year in and year out. Sometimes they knock 'em dead, sometimes they don't. But they don't let the perception of Atlantic salmon fishing being "the sport of kings" turn them away. Most are Canadians. Some are Russians. A few are Americans, but most American salmon fishermen I meet go the lodge route.

Don't get me wrong, someday I'd like to stay at a five star lodge, fish a legendary river, maybe in a canoe, and with a top-notch guide. Then I'd enjoy returning to camp to enjoy a peppercorn crusted ribeye and glass of malbec. I have absolutely nothing against people who choose to fish this way. Honestly, I would really love to try it sometime! It's just not where I'm at right now and I don't know if I'll ever get there. Like my buddies, I'm not going to let it stop me from hooking salmon. If I have to do it on my own, I will.

When I fish alone on public water, I might get some tips, but it's up to me to read the water, pick an appropriate fly, and present the fly in a way that attracts a salmon. If I do everything right, I might have to tail the fish, unhook it and release it safely, all while managing not to slip and fall into the river. After that, I might relax with a PB&J or some trail mix, then go back at it. When I travel to a new river, observe the conditions, devise a strategy, and then catch fish, I know I'm making real progress. Without spending off-seasons chasing broodstock salmon, I would be much less confident on my own.

I still make plenty of mistakes. When I identify an aspect of my angling that needs improvement, I make it a point to add it to my to-do list for the next broodstock salmon season. My motto is, "Practice here so you don't have to practice there." That goes for almost everyone, not just beginners. In America, we have no wild salmon rivers with which to hone our skills, but we have a tremendous resource at our disposal and it only costs as much as a Connecticut fishing license. Though the broodstock salmon fishery is already popular, its full potential has not yet been realized by the vast majority of local anglers.

Anticipation

Brûlé McSprats (sz. 3, 5 & 7)

This is one of my favorite times of year. North American salmon fishermen reconnect with one another. Whether it's by phone, email or even SMS, anglers ask each other, "Where are you going this year and when?" This is the time of year we start to lose sleep thinking about river conditions, run timing and about flies we don't need, but feel compelled to tie anyhow. Some of my friends have already put time in on salmon rivers, most with little to show for it. "Things are late this year" is a common refrain this season.  I'm just starting to lose sleep, hoping that I'll hit it just right. Good luck, friends!

Scrapbook Flies

This fly box needs immediate attention

I have a collection of flies I keep in a clear fly box. The box is stuffed with flies and is virtually overflowing. One of these days, I plan on getting another clear fly box and separating them into two collections. One collection will be all flies that have been given to me over the years, but never fished. I have saved some of these to use as models for my own tying. Others are more like little keepsakes. If I fished one, I might never get a replacement if I lost it. The other collection is made up of flies that trigger memories or tell stories. This portion of the box is sort of my fly fishing scrapbook. Below are some flies from that scrapbook.

The Woolly Worm - A very powerful gateway drug! 

Woolly Worm

This fly is the very first I ever tied. I was around 13 years old. I took fly tying lessons at the now defunct Fin & Feather Lodge, formerly in East Greenwich, Rhode Island. I was by far the youngest in the class by at least 20 years and, in most cases, a lot more than that. They used to call me "the kid." Because I was still at least three years away from driving, the old timers would let me in on their "secret spots." I remember one old guy looking back and forth before he told me about his honey hole, just to make sure no one else was close enough to hear! 

My first fly tying instructor, Bob Greco, told the class to refrain from fishing our first fly in case we lost it. He said we'd want to have it down the line. Bob was definitely right and I'm glad I still have my very first self-tied fly. I hooked my first trout on the second fly of the class, a marabou leech pattern. Unfortunately, the fish made off with my fly. I'm okay with that though. At least I still have my Woolly Worm. 

Sugerman Shrimp #10
M1 Killer #10 

Sugerman Shrimp & M1 Killer

These two are big milestone flies for me. In fact the Sugerman Shrimp changed my life. I hooked a dark, multi sea-winter, Miramichi River Atlantic salmon on my first evening salmon fishing. I got the fish close, but lost it as I walked backwards towards the shore. That fish took a #8 Sugerman Shrimp I had tied a month before the trip. I sweated out the next five days without so much as a tug. We fished the morning of our last day. The rain from front end of Hurricane Kyle brought in the fish from the estuary. I landed my first Atlantic salmon (a grilse) in pretty short order. He took a #10 Sugerman Shrimp, tied by my friend and guide, Darryl Tucker. I hooked two others that day, one on another Sugerman and one on a Black Bear Green Butt. 

I was happy I didn't get skunked on that first trip, but bummed I had lost that first msw salmon. The next year we fished in horrible conditions. The water was so low, not even heavy rain brought the river up. Miraculously, I didn't get skunked, landing the only fish hooked in camp all week. That handsome Miramichi River hookbill took a #10 M1 Killer, a fly recommended by my friend Dave Goulet. The Sugerman Shrimp started the addiction, but the M1 is responsible for my first fish I could call a salmon. 

Far from my best tied Catskill dry,
but it was good enough for the trout

March Brown

Prior to this particular afternoon of fishing on Connecticut's Farmington River, I had never experienced a March Brown hatch. I did have a few crudely tied March Browns with me, however. I don't remember when I tied this. It could have been a remnant from my teenage tying days. I still fish with those old flies from time to time.

I arrived at my favorite pool and was relieved to be alone. Not only was I alone but, from the minute I arrived, the entire pool was boiling with rising trout. There were bugs everywhere, mostly tan caddis and sulfur colored mayflies. There were some March Browns around too, but in much smaller quantities. I caught a couple trout on an X-Caddis before I switched to my March Brown. I'm not exaggerating when I say every trout I put that fly in front of nailed it. Not just for a little while, either...all day long. I only had three March Browns with me and I had to do all I could just to keep them afloat after catching so many eager brown trout. I lost one in a fish and had to switch to other flies while the other two dried out. In terms of sheer action, it was the most exciting day of trout fishing I've ever experienced. 

This old soldier didn't owe me anything

Mickey Finn

I've said it a million times here...year in and year out, I catch more Naugatuck salmon on a #6 Polar Bear Mickey Finn than anything else. This particular Mickey Finn went out in a blaze of glory. I don't know how many salmon I landed on this very fly, but it was a lot. The last fish caught with this fly was a salmon in the upper teens weight class. This fish was seemed like it preferred fighting from the air more than from the water. I landed the big male and the hook was right where it should have been, in the scissors of the jaw. The salmon had a big, toothy kype and I had to grab the fly with long pliers instead of hemostats. One twist of the pliers and the hook broke in half. Maybe the hook grew incrementally weaker over time? Maybe all that weight and constant jumping pushed the hook over the edge? I don't know, but I'm okay with how things turned out in the end. 

Homecoming Hex Spinner

Hexagenia Spinner

Though I grew up fly fishing western Rhode Island's Wood River, I never experienced its most renowned hatch until much later in life. I knew I wanted to fish this nighttime hatch and practiced by fishing large Wulffs and Stimulators, after dark, on a river near my current Connecticut home. It didn't take long to become comfortable fishing "by ear," so I decided to make my first trip back to the Wood in almost 20 years. To say my home river welcomed me back with open arms would be a gross understatement. 

To make a long story short, much like the March Brown above, my self-designed Hex spinner was all I needed to beat up on trout for the duration of a fairly long Hex hatch. If there was ever a case of "beginner's luck," this was it. I was in the exact right place at the exact right time. It was my turn to be that guy. To be honest, the whole thing was met with a little resentment by the regulars. They assured me, "Don't get used to it...it's not usually like that." Nope, it's not usually like that. In fact, I've fished that hatch many times since and have never come close to catching as many or as good sized trout as I caught that first night. 

Hex night was only about a month after my March Brown bonanza on the Farmington. That was a really good summer for trout fishing. 

The original "heartbreak fly" went missing in action
(tied by Marc Leblanc)

Blue Butterfly 

I have told this story before, so I won't rehash the whole thing here. I'll sum it up by saying this fly, a gift from my friend Marc LeBlanc, was left behind in the salmon I most wanted to land. I have since hooked larger salmon, some landed and some lost, but none I wanted as badly as I wanted that Nova Scotia firecracker. After I lost the original #6 Blue Butterfly, and after I finally regained my composure, I raided Marc's fly chest for two more. One for immediate use and one for my collection. The funny thing is, I'm not sure I would even fish this oddball pattern again. I love Butterflies, and have even replicated this fly, but the story is probably better if I never hook another salmon on a Blue Butterfly.

I love Gurglers

Black Gurgler

This fly is a tangible memory of what might have been the most exciting day of fishing I've ever had. If it's not the most exciting, it's definitely in the top three. I was on a Caribbean cruise with my wife and her family. We had a day in-port in St. Maarten, but no activities planned. Before the trip, I went online and tried to find some possible unguided fishing opportunities. I saw reports of baby tarpon caught on spinning gear a few miles from port. I procured a map, figured out where to go, hailed a taxi and was on my way. 

This was real urban fishing. I felt like I was fishing in the North end of Hartford, Connecticut. There were drivers honking their horns all day long, countless numbers of pedestrians walking by and the constant sound of police cars and ambulance sirens the entire time. There was a white plastic lawn chair floating in the cove in which I was fishing. The weather was lousy, too. It was a little chilly and it drizzled or rained pretty much all day long. 

None of that mattered. The place was teeming with baby tarpon. They traveled in schools and they were grabby. Just wait for the school to pass by, watch for their backs and cast away. They turned around in the cove, so they could be caught either coming or going. 

I hooked my first (and smallest) fish of the day in my first ten minutes. That little five pounder grabbed a small Black Death. I lost him. A few minutes later, I was tight to a fish that went about twenty-five pounds. I almost landed him, but no dice. I was fishing from a mangrove-lined shore and landing these powerful fish was virtually impossible. I was using my favorite single handed salmon rod, a 9' Vision GT Four 8wt., but it just wasn't enough rod to stop them from diving into the Mangroves parallel to where I stood. 

It didn't matter. I was having as much fun as I've ever had fishing. It was like fishing a farm pond for bass, only the bass averaged 15-20 lbs. each, were extremely numerous and fought as hard as anything I've ever hooked. That and I was in the middle of the inner-city. 

I finally did land a tarpon. I saw the school coming and I had my black Gurgler ready. There's no fly with which I'd rather catch a fish than Jack Gartside's Gurgler. Fishing that fly is an adrenaline rush. I led the school and saw a tarpon slow roll the Gurgler. I strip set as many times as I could before the fish went airborne. This was the only tarpon that I had hooked solidly enough to withstand all the acrobatics and pull out from the mangroves. After an exciting fight, I beached the fifteen pound fish and grabbed the hook to remove it. The tarpon flopped around, snapped the point off the hook and rolled back into the water.

When I looked up, I noticed a crowd of passersby had gathered to watch the whole thing. As soon as the fish was gone, they all left. After that, I noticed that people stopped every time I hooked or jumped a fish, which was constantly for a while. I guess they don't do much baby tarpon fishing in urban St. Maarten. 

Unfortunately, I didn't get a picture of the tarpon, but it doesn't matter. I will never forget that day. Every time I look at that horrifically mangled Gurgler, I crave another trip to St. Maarten. I don't even like cruising, but I would do it again for this alone. I can't imagine what this place might be like on a good day!

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There are plenty more stories in the scrapbook fly box. Of course, there are plenty of stories about the gifted flies in the other part of the box, too. Like the Blue Butterfly, there are stories about flies which gave gone missing in action. And there are stories about flies still in service, waiting to either be ripped from my leader or become the next Polar Bear Mickey Finn of my collection.