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The root word of the term angling is….
ANGLE.
I am amazed how often this concept is ignored by fishermen (and fisherladies, but the generic term will be used going forward). And I can think of no other fishing situation that requires being at the proper angle than dry fly fishing for very, very selective stream reared trout in clear water.
Yet I witnessed this disregard for technique again on Tuesday evening.
I arrived at the Little J somewhat later than I would have liked and when I got there, there were already fish on the surface. Normally this wouldn’t be an issue, but I wanted to get to an out-of-the-way area to avoid the circus that had ensued and that would take some time.
While there are a few remote spots on the River, most stretches are easily reachable within a reasonable distance from parking areas. I typically don’t like to get too remote because it can be dangerous, especially when fishing by one’s self. The wades can be long and tough and there are enough dangerous snakes about to make a pitch dark trip out not too fun. But some of the out-of-the-way but not exactly remote spots are difficult enough that most won’t venture there and they are within a reasonable (make that 15 – 20 minutes) walk/wade.
Since I was running late, I bypassed some pools in order to hustle to where I wanted to spend the bulk of the hatch. About 200 yards short of where I wanted to be, I just had to stop and throw a few casts at a pod of fish that were just smashing duns with reckless abandon. They were in a tough spot, almost completely across the creek and their lie has a downed tree in the stream guarding any real good approach. After watching them for about 10 minutes – trying to figure the proper angle, I waded in slightly above them, threw a high arcing cast over the water level tree and tossed an in air mend to put the fly line below the tip of the tree branch. By dropping the elbow, this produced enough slack to get about a foot or so of drift. That was plenty. By moving my position up or down stream a few feet, I was able to raise 7 fish and catch 5 of them. I also think that the two that I didn’t hook may have missed the fly completely on very violent rises. From the angle I had to work from (there was a way too fast, way too deep spot that would have given me the right shot), I think they rose aggressively to the fly, then spotted some micro-drag that I couldn’t see or remove from the drift because of the angle, an aborted the feeding attempt.
Deciding that I really needed to get where I was headed, I gave up on the still rising fish and moved to the area I wanted to fish.
And there were two guys already there.
The fisherman in the upstream position was positioned just fine. The gentleman in the downstream position was trying to fish two feeding lanes from the same standing spot. Both guys were good casters and both had on the proper fly. But they weren’t doing very well.
I stood back out of the way to watch – due to what time it now was I was committed to being here for the evening. After about 5 minutes, the upstream fisherman waded over to where I was standing and said “they’re all yours, I can’t catch them.” He said he hadn’t caught a fish all evening and at this point the hatch had probably been rolling for hours.
Why was that?
ANGLE.
He was in the right standing spot. Fish were rising at casting distances of anywhere from 10 to 60 feet away. But his casting angle was all wrong.
He was throwing a straight right-handed over hand cast. With the direction of water flow and the 4 – 6 different current seams he was facing, there was absolutely no way he could get a clean drift of any length – even a foot or so.
In addition, his buddy that was downstream was in such a spot so as to prevent the upstream angler from wading out another 5 feet and down another few to make that type of cast workable without disturbing his fishing.
So I waded in where he left, even though his buddy was still an obstacle to getting into a perfect position. In order to get any type of drift at all, I had to lean at the waist and throw a semi-backhanded cast across my body. This put the fly, and much more importantly, the fly line; in position to get at least some drift.
I raised a fish and missed it. Over the next 45 minutes or so, I probably raised 20 or so and only hooked 3 – one shook off, one that took a massive upstream run actually broke off (the tippet was fairly abraised, I think it rubbed against something rather hard), and I la
nd only one – and it was foul hooked under the chin. I think that I was getting the same micro-drag as the previous spot and the fish were missing the fly on purpose. But this was the only angle I had with the guy downstream.The downstream gentlemen thought it funny that I was getting frustrated at rising but not catching. During the same time period he raised 3 fish and caught two – one of which was foul hooked under the chin also.
He finally decided to leave and stopped to talk a little while I repaired the leader after breaking the fish off. He had been fishing all day and had caught 5 – the last two of which I witnessed. He said that these trout were so tough.
I gave him a fly and told him of a spot upstream (on his way out) that I knew had a single feeding lane. With his casting skill and only one target area to think about, I knew he would do well.
Upon his departure, I waded into the spot I had been in, took a few steps out and a few down and started to use a completely sidearm backhanded cast – one that I couldn’t use when he was positioned where he was. In short order I caught 4 trout – with zero missed fish, or more correctly zero fish missing the fly.
I then moved to where he was standing and saw that there were two distinct feeding lanes – neither of which could be accessed properly from that exact spot. By moving a few feet up and half a step out, I could get clean drifts into the upper feeding lane. And by continuing to make slight adjustment, I was able to catch 7 trout from that seam. I did miss 3 fish, probably because I got lazy and didn’t make the slight adjustments needed to get a clean drift.
I moved a little below where he had been, like 4 – 6 feet and had a good angle to the lower lies. Eleven trout came from there – including one of about 16”.
Turning around, I saw a pod of fish under a very low hanging limb, gently rising. This indicated that they were on spinners and not slashing at duns or emergers. I changed angles to get a good drift – no easy feat with the limb right over the fish and no downstream approach available. I rose and caught 4 fish from the pod, one again of about 16” and one that stuck out several inches on either side of my landing net opening (which is 17.5”). It had a huge kype and teeth. This fish had been around for a while and it was one of the largest trout that I had caught in the River that was not from the Jurassic Park area.
Of course, I finally put a fly in the tree and broke my lead to heck. It was getting dark rapidly, so I reeled up and quit with trout still rising.
When I was back at the vehicle putting my gear away, the gentleman that I gave the fly to approached with his three fishing comrades. He asked how I did and I told him that I caught a few including one good one. He said that he went where I told him and used the fly until the trout tore it apart. He caught more fish in an hour than he had in the last three days (they were from out of state on an extended fishing trip). He wanted to know where he could get that “magic” fly.
The morale of the story isn’t that there was a magic fly, but rather he was fishing the fly in a spot that forced him to be at the proper angle due to only one feeding lane and he got some clean drifts. In addition, its not that I am a super fly guy or a great caster (those that have fished with me can attest to that), but rather, if one studies the water and gets the proper angle for a clean drift, one can overcome less than great casting, less than a perfect fly, and less than perfect technique.
The root word of the term angling is….
And that was the difference between one of the people I met on the river catching zero fish in a day; the other catching about a dozen (the bulk of which came after he was unknowing forced into fish from the proper angle); and myself landing over 30 despite arriving late and not getting to fish for a decent period of time from the angle I wanted to.
As a post script, during my conversation I found out that these guys fished Erie Tribs for steelhead. When I asked if they were FishErie board regulars, the response was, “No, those guys are just a bunch of a-holes.”
Little did he know that a FishErie a-hole more than doubled his catch for the day.
Perhaps next time I’ll ask the FishErie question before providing flies and spots.
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