Fresh sardines!

Sardines are one of my favorite fish to eat, and the other day I found myself at Lotus market in the Strip district of Pittsburgh (so-named for it's shape, not activity!) and discovered that this was one of the best Asian markets I've ever seen! There's more story I'll tell in the future, like the fact that I tried my first Durian fruit (yum!), but for now I wanted to show you the long sought after and finally discovered treat I had. These are fresh sardines! I've been wanting to try fresh for years but not made th eserious effort to find them until now. Truly, they were a huge step in taste above the canned version. On the advice of my friend who grew up eating them fresh, I simply gutted them, and pan fried them in a bit of olive oil with a touch of salt, pepper and garlic.

They were great! They're really bony, and that made me a bit paranoid, but the bones proved no problem when chewed enough, and I'm one very prone to choking on fish bones. They were great and I recommend them to anyone who hasn't yet tried them. Next time my plan is to steam them along with some veggies. :)

Fish farming in Singapore

O man, reading this report at Practical Fishkeeping made me drool over the possibilities. This is a report from Jeremy Gay of his visit to a Singaporean fish farm, and includes lots of pictures!

Murphy's Laws of fishing

I was able to sneak away for a couple hours of fishing this weekend and was reminded that Murphy's Laws are still in full effect. Which laws did I review you ask?

1) When you find the fly/lure that the fish really want, you'll only have one and will soon lose it.

2) Rediscovered subsection one of that law, its Inverse Proportion: the longer it takes you to find said fly/lure, the SOONER you will lose it.

It took me about 3 hours to find the right fly that gave me consistent catches. When I did, I caught nice 'gills and perch and even a foot long Wiper in 6 consecutive casts. Then I snagged and lost it.

Meh.

Be prepared and take a deep breath

(a partial excerpt from my upcoming book. Try not to laugh too much at the picture. I'm learning what media suits me best)

A friend of mine took me to the Western Pennsylvania town of Latrobe one beautiful morning during the summer of, I believe, 1989. Although better known as the home of golfing legend Arnold Palmer, Latrobe also plays home to a beautiful stream named the “Loyalhanna”. That day I had one of the best and worst fishing moments of my whole life, and received a life lesson which would later be reinforced by Scripture.

It took us just under an hour to get to this stream from Pittsburgh, and as we cruised down the road paralleling the stream my excitement caused me to emphatically push my friend to stop the car at a spot which was far upstream of the section to which he intended to introduce me. This area was just off the two lane road we were riding (another 2 lane borders the stream on the other side) and required a short climb down a hill. We were literally only yards off the road and less than a mile from a crowded business district yet the steep drop to the water and the thick lining of trees guarding this stretch of water made it feel like we were in some mountain miles away from anything.

As we took up our spots I looked across the water and recognized an area that looked quite promising as a spot where the best fish in the immediate run would hold, waiting for food to swim by its lair. My imagination betrayed me as I couldn’t even fix in my mind an image of the type of fish that would be tough enough to claim such an ideal spot in such a marvelous section of stream. I quickly baited my hook (I had to move quickly: this friend was a great fisherman and I could tell he had noted the spot also) and sought secure footing for what would literally be a cast all the way across the stream into a crease in some rocks the size of a pile of basketballs, 3 or four of them. Regarding the size of this stream, it would probably only be considered a stream in Western Pennsylvania and a few other North American areas because we have several large rivers. In many places the Loyalhanna would be considered a river itself especially with its Whitewater sections.

As I got my footing I reared back and with a grunt cast forward and slightly upstream as hard as I could, sending my live leech sailing on 4 pound line high into the air and rocketing right towards the spot! My heart was pounding even before the line settled because of what I expected to happen and the sheer delight of an accurate cast for a change! At this point my guess is that you’re thinking that I cast, nothing happened and I got a life lesson from complete disappointment.

WRONG!!

I noted the perfect holding spot, made a great cast, and when my live leech traveled across the stream despite my awkward stance in the rocks, landing less than 2 feet from the rocks, a huge shadow emerged from the rocks and headed directly toward it! This is the kind of moment fishermen live for and it was happening! To me!! In a moment all my training and practice had come together to initiate what was going to be the most exciting catch of my young life- and in an instant, this was when I blew it all. I was so excited that upon seeing that huge shadow after my bait that instead of waiting to feel the weight of the fish on my hook, I reared back on the rod when it seemed the fish was so close that there was no way it couldn’t have taken the hook. Well there was a way, because it hadn’t.

You don’t get two shots at a fish like that and I never saw it again. This was when I learned that preparation isn’t just leading up to the moment of execution. Preparation carries through the moment of execution and beyond.

I wanna fish Thailand!

Wow, check out this gallery of catches from this guiding Thailand site. I think that in addition to the Amazon River, I need to add Bung Sam Ran lake to my wish list of places to fish!

What ate that Carp?

Otter? Raccoon? Maniac mutant squirrels? Whatever it was, that was a nice-sized carp. That's my minnow bucket above it for scale. It's intact head is to the left, and to the right you can see it's anal fin and how it's tail curves upward just behind that. The view of the skull is from beneath 'cause it's a little twisted.

Remembering the part called "angling"

I really enjoyed this post by FishErie.com member Duncsdad, and he was kind enough to give me permission to share it here. I added the pictures because of my obsessive need for imagery, but all the words are his. Enjoy, and thank you Duncsdad!
**************************************************************************
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 land 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.

Lake Arthur fishing report again!

I got back up to my favorite lake Saturday. It was a pretty nice day, windy but not as windy as the previous Saturday when I had to stop from time to time just to hold my hat on my head. I got a bit of a late start but that's ok when you know where to find the fish. It was warm too for mid-morning. I wondered what would happen to the mayonnaise on my ham and cheese sandwiches while I fished. As it turned out, warm mayo wasn't such a crime. Warm drinking water on the other hand, not so much fun (Note to self: put ice in cooler with food).

I faced a bit of construction traffic on 279N, but I knew they'd be there. Hey, on a Saturday going fishing and having the right music playing, I could've dealt with almost any traffic. :)

I arrived at the lake in good spirits, and set out with the hopes of finding a nice school of Crappie somewhere. Stop 1: Bear Run boat launch area. This area can really deliver at the right time of year. Unfortunately, this wasn't the time.



I always expect something to jump out of this tangle of tree roots and get me!

After 30 minutes I took off for area number 2: Secret Bay. I have a love/hate relationship with the road to Secret Bay. It's really long and dusty, parking is almost non-existent when I get there, but I see lots of different animals, plants and birds when I drive it. Secret Bay paid off but not with keeper sized fish. After an hour of this (and good company in the form of another fisherman wading out with me) I decided to go where I had every confidence that I'd find not only fish, but keepers.

Those of you who know me might be wondering right now why I was so intent on getting fish to keep, knowing that I almost always fish catch and release. To explain...early in the season I like to get a limit or two of panfish so that I can have fish in the freezer through the season whenever I want some, then I can fish the rest of the season mostly catch and release style. I have a freezer devoid of fish right now so I need to get some in there. Anyway, I got to spot number 3: that certain place.

There I had to deal with quite a bit of wind, quite a few people, but was able to finally get into the fish. It wasn't easy and they made me work for every bite, but the Case Worm did it's job and I ended the trip with exactly the same take I had last week. A handful of Bluegills, 2 Yellow Perch and 1 Crappie! Strange that I would get the same combination two trips in a row, but I ain't complainin'.

The oddity of the bunch was this Blonde Bluegill. I'm calling it that because it was a shade of gold when I caught it and I've never seen such a thing before. It even retained that color after death.



See you on the water!

Pirates also affecting Fishing destinations

This report came in last weekfrom Tom Stevenson: "It turns out that The boat I was to board in Assumption Island, Seychelles on the 8th (April), was hijacked about 50 km from Assumption Island on Friday last; Taken to Somalia, where the crew (who had not been heard from since setting off from Assumption Island) were released, and called in on Wednesday; All remote islands in Seychelles have been evacuated of all boats, while the Seychelles government 'cleans up' the problem..."

Here's the blog post.

The people you meet

I got to get up to the lake and do a little Yellow Perch chasing finally. Being a weekday, there weren't many people on this very popular body of water, but before I could get out of my truck one guy managed to get ahead of me and set up near my intended base of operations.

No problem, on this particular spot if you're limited to shore fishing there are two specific posts you want to assume and since the other was open I set up there. Now this was a beautiful fall day. The sun was shining and accompanied by a light wind which thankfully wasn't enough to create a chill in this 50 degree (on the way to 70) morning.

It was about 9 am (I tried to get there earlier I really did, but while I was checking the weather on tv I made the mistake of flipping channels and there was this really good episode of "Third Watch" on and well...) and I had a bucket of minnows I'd been keeping for a week since a horrible skunking elsewhere and wanted to use them up.

Before I could take a single cast the older guy who was there bass fishing with plastic worms (at first) started chatting with me. After saying only a few words he was nice to enough to tell me that he tends to love having someone to talk to while he fishes, and I should let him know if he's talking too much.

I took that as a warning!

So over the next hour and a half we learned about each others families, how we'd both lost our brothers and fathers, how the economy was hurting but how every man is responsible for his own family, dogs and losing dogs, cooking rabbit, fishing for Steelhead, fly fishing and fly tying, home repair and probably several other things.

That was a lot for me, but that's the kind of thing you can sometimes encounter when you fish, and if you let yourself, you can really learn something. If you are really blessed, you can gain a friend. I had a good time meeting Don. The fish weren't coming in very large sizes anyway, so hey I got to meet another very good fisherman, and while I didn't get to talk much about Christ with him, I did give him my card so that he can tune in to the radio station where I work and hopefully hear more about Him there.

We both left that spot since the fish weren't really hitting, and I did fish another spot for about an hour, but on the drive home I realized that the highlight of my day was making a new buddy!

Catching a 200 pound stingray

My biggest fish so far was a 16 pound Carp. I can't even imagine the fight of a nearly 200 pound stingray, but this guy can:

When remembering today about the amazing tug of war we had with this "barn door size" stingray , I find myself in total admiration about the unbelievable strength it displayed during six hours before giving up. It is absolutely out of this world. We hooked up this 200 pounder at the Bang Pakong River. It then tracted us for miles like you cannot imagine, taking us next to the Nakorn Nayok River, then to the Prachinburi River, then back to the Bang Pakong River again, to be finally landed at the Nakorn Nayok River.

Now this sounds like a whole lotta fun!

Truth hurts

(WHAT?!? whuzzat?? Oh, the alarm clock. Stupid clock. Hey wait, fishin' today, YAH! Erie here I come. I wonder what the streams look like. Man, I'm gonna catch a bunch o-) "Ouch!" (STUPID CHAIR! MMMMMM, coffee. Okay lessee, rods are in the truck. Where's my thermos? Gotta call Mike and Shawn make sure they're ready.) "Hey. You up? 15 minutes. Cool. I dunno, maggots, minnows, treat 'em like Trout is what I'm told. Cool. Hey, call Shawn and I'll meet you at the church parking lot. Cool."

(Man it's colder than I thought it would be. Oh well. Lord, please let me catch a few. Nice ones. C'mon truck warm up already. Where-Oh, there they are.) "Hey. Yup. I got coffee. Yeah, we'll stop at the McDonald's off the Grove City exit. y-a-w-n. Ready? Cool." (Man, this is gonna be great. I'm gonna catch my limit then just catch and release. Hey, I wonder if John's on the air yet. C'mon radio. Wow, I haven't been up this early since... since I was fired from A.)

"Hey, wake up. Yeah. Uh, Sausage biscuit and hash browns please. Thanks. You guys ready? Cool. I dunno, about another hour. What are you gonna do with your fish? Yeah, right! I'm gonna keep one for the smoker, one for the grill, and I'll probably give one to Sue, they have been on kinda hard times lately. Cool." (Man it's pretty up this way. Boy it's taking forever to get there! Arrggh! I can't wait!! Gotta remember to get maggots and spoons. Need some floats too. Did we pray yet?) "Hey, let's pray and thank God for today and pray for a safe time." "------ Amen." ( and lots o fish too Lord, okay?) "Which way now? You're some help. Look on the map! D'uh! Here? Okay. C'mon let's make this quick, and don't spend too much 'cause you're payin' for gas!" (C'mon, c'mon, hurry up! Why can't they be like me, everything rigged up before I take them out of the car, know what I want before I walk into the-hey, what's that?) "Two of these please. So, can you tell me how to get to Walnut Creek. Nope. Okay, okay. A left? Cool, thanks. Stop sign. Have a good one! You got what you need? Let's go, C'mon."

(Please Lord, don't let me get skunked, not this time. Please.) "I'm gonna catch the biggest fish you do realize, right? Man! Look at all those people!" (Here's a good spot to park. Thank you Lord.) "You got everything? Let's go over there." (How do we get down there?) "Can you see how to get down? Okay good, now hurry up, I got fish to catch. Where are they? What do you mean right there? Whoa... look at those fish!" (MANOMANOMANOMAN) "WOW! I can't believe it! Look at those fish! They're huge!" (I can't believe this! This is gonna be great!)

"Man this is sweet! This is gonna be so easy! You got one?! Alright!! Way to go, man!" (Anytime now, anytime... C'mon, take the bait!) "Another one? Alright! You Got one yet? Don't worry, if he got one, anybody can!" (except me apparently. C'mon PLEASE bite! Worms, minnows, maggots, they've gotta want SOMETHING!) "You got one? 'Bout time! Just what 'til I get mine, you'll be shamed!" (and you can feel like I do now. 5 hours!?!? what am I doing wrong?) "Almost had one!" (Now HE'S got one! Is everybody gonna get one but me?) "Now, you know I'm not goin' home fishless! I'm gonna work my way down to the lake. Yeah! Okay. Hey buddy, doin' any good? 3 eh? Good job." (I hate you.) "What are they hitting on? A piece of yarn?!?" (What kind of mess is that??) "Sure, let me help. Easy, okay I got him in the net. Man, he's even bigger than your last one!" (F*** YOU!!)

"Hi! Looks like you're doin' good. What're they hittin' on? Oh, yeah? I've been usin' them and haven't landed one." (Stop lying! You haven't even had a hit!!) "Not using them right? yeah okay..." (Whatever. Lord, it's a 2 1/2 hour drive, why is this happening to me? I'm not THAT bad. I catch plenty of Trout, why can't I catch them?!? Yeah, "fish on" my a**. Sorry, Father, I don't mean to curse, but I HATE this. Everybody else is catching fish, why can't I? Wait, there's one holding in that groove. Okay, patience, get the drift right in front of him, DARNIT! that drift was perfect! Okay, maggot. CRAP! Minnow. -----, powerbait, what color? okay... he's gonna take it! NO! NONONONO! Why the hel* did it spook! I HATE THIS! I HATE FISHING. I DRIVE ALL THIS WAY FOR NOTHING! STUPID FREAKIN' FISH!)


(Please God pleasepleasepleaseplease)

"No. No. How many did you get? Cool." (Screw you.) "How many did you get? Good deal!" (SO what!) "Yeah, I'm ready. I didn't have what I needed this time, but you watch next time. You won't even be able to carry the fish I catch 'cause they'll be so big!" (I'll never do this again. what a complete waste.) "Yeah, I can give you a great recipe. No, but it looks good." (Stupid recipe, stupid fish) "Yeah, wow, that sounds like it was fun. Yeah, I did see you catch that one, that was great!" (Can't you understand how much this sucks for me?? I will never do this again. Fish suck. I hate to clean them anyway. 5 hours of driving.) "Oh, yeah, I can't wait 'til next time. I'm gonna try this new spinner I bought, and I think I know EXACTLY what will work on them. I'm gonna catch a bunch!" (LIAR!) "Sure. No, I don't want one of yours, 'cause next time you'll be wantin' one of my big ones! Ha Ha!"

(I will never make this drive again. What a stupid freaking waste of time. Darn fish are too finicky. You can only catch them if you know the area. It was too windy anyway. Plenty of fish close to home.) "Alright man. Yeah you did great! Watch out for me next time though! Thank you Lord for getting us back safely. See ya'! (Stupid fish. How much humiliation is one guy supposed to take?) "Hey babe. No, I didn't have the lure they were hitting on. Yeah, I know. I think I'm gonna concentrate on figuring out the Walleyes down Montour for a while. Got plenty of jigs. Hunh? That's a little Cleo, I bought 6. Yes the leftover maggots are goin' in the fridge. Don't worry they're wrapped tight. I'm gonna leave my gear in the truck. Prob'ly go down the river tomorrow. Yeah, they both caught fish. How do I know? I'm NOT yelling! Fine."

(Never again. Never.)


(It's a long drive for nothing.)













(Maybe I'll try that yarn thing next time.)



(Yeah. That'll get 'em)

Carp story number two

No, I didn't forget, I'm just learning that it isn't easy to work two blogs along with my production and regularly hourly work, but it is a good way to stay out of trouble. Except of course, in relating to the people who connect on my blogs, through my production, or in my regular job. ;)

I like fishing with the lightest gear that I can reasonably get away with. Now bear in mind, I'm not going after Flathead cats with 2 pound line or anything like that, and I'm not using gear that would play fish to complete exhaustion. I just know that you can usually use much lighter gear than we usually use and with a dash of skill + experience, you can safely and quickly land a pretty big fish.

This in mind, a couple of summers ago I picked up two new rods. One a 7 1/2 foot ultralight, and the other a 7 foot light action. The 7 foot rod I geared to fish 4 pound line, and couldn't wait to take it out on the water. I transferred a small reel from my 4 1/2 ultra light Ugly Stik to use on the long rod along with a fresh spool of 4 pound Trilene XL. Even though I was going to be running errands all day, one Friday I decided to put it in the back of the truck and stop by the mouth of a particular stream which enters the Ohio River not far from one of my stops.

It was a beautiful afternoon about 1:30 PM as I pulled off the main road and pointed my vehicle toward the railroad tracks which follow the rivers around here as faithfully as a hound follows his master in hopes of some play. A hundred yards or so upriver found me at one of my favorite fishing spots, a spot ordinarily so reliable that if I don't get a bite within 20 minutes I know that I can go ahead and leave.

I parked, excitedly snatched my new rod and "emergency fishing pack" from the truck and headed down through the weeds toward the water. (You've got an emergency fishing pack don't you? The mini-tackle box and gear that fits in your pocket and never leaves the truck just in case you drive past a likely spot during your days' travels and need to see if there are any fish there? You've gotta have one of these packs. I have one for fly fishing and one for lure/bait fishing.) The water in the mouth of this creek runs crystal clear nearly all the time despite the immediate conversion to olive green it assumes upon combining with the river.

There is a large tree that fell from the bank and sticks halfway across the mouth, and several boulders strewn haphazardly throughout its wide but shallow lower reaches. At any given time there are Rainbow and Brown Trout, Largemouth or Smallmouth Bass, Walleye and Sauger, Pike, Musky, Hybrid Stripers large Shad and probably a half dozen other species milling around this apparent haven.

One visitor nearly always in residence is the Carp, and normally in schools of no less than 10. This day was much like any other in that moments after reaching the bank, I saw several dark brown shadows cruising the area, stopping now and then to sip at the surface, much to my delight. As with most Carp schools, this one was accompanied by one fish which was a bit different from the rest. Why this happens is a mystery to me, but it seems that about 7 out of ten schools I see have one fish which is a total standout. I'll never forget the school I saw years ago which held one big Carp which looked all black.


This schools' oddball was about 3 shades lighter than all the rest, and seemed just as golden from above as the average Carp does when viewed from the side! Despite only being about mid-sized for this school of fish, he was the one I wanted. I decided to tie on a one inch pale tan Crappie tube jig, on a 1/16 oz jig. After watching the fish for a while to determine their direction (they were "pacing" the mouth of the stream as they fed), I tossed my little jig on 4 pound line on my new light action rod about 6 feet in front of the group. Several fish noticed the jig and swam toward it, but lost interest fairly quickly.

In the 2 feet of crystal clear water, twitching it on the bottom for their attention wasn't going to to be a problem. In fact, I had to be careful to twitch lightly because my next cast, sink, twitch cause about 6 of the fish to startle and swim off upstream a ways. I was kicking myself for this over the fear that they wouldn't return, but after just a few minutes my concerns were squashed, as the whole gang, with "goldie" off to the side of the school nearest the bank I attended.

I watched as they came slowly back downstream, sipping at the surface, nipping at the bottom, and before they were within 20 feet I decided to set my tube jig out there so that it could settle before the fish arrived, and then I could work it after they were near. With a flip of my wrist the teeny tube sailed through the air and landed with barely a ripple about 5 yards in front of me. The fish were getting closer, and the anticipation was making me nuts!

As the front of the school flowed by, the gold Carp that had initially attracted my attention stopped short, taking some small bug off the surface, and at that moment with the fish only three feet upstream and to the right of my jig, I started to swim it up off the bottom. Slowly, with small sweeps like a fleeing crayfish I moved my tube only an inch or two off the bottom, and that Carp pounced on it like a shark on a mullet!

Let me pause here to say that one of the most common mistakes when a fish strikes in this type of situation is to get so caught up by the take that the fisherman forgets to set the hook, the fish spits the hook and the chance is gone for good. So, this in mind I had been telling myself over and over "if this works, don't get so caught up by the take that you forget to set the hook".

So, after seeing this Carp so aggressively attack my jig, I found myself so caught up in the take that I forgot to set the hook. Momentarily. ;)

With just a tug on the rod the fish was on as was the fight! It took off several yards of line almost instantly, spooking the rest of the school out of the area. As my drag screamed I though of how much I love that sound, and how glad I was that there was another fisherman there to see me catch this fish, 'cause you know when you catch nice fish there's never anybody to witness it! This fish and I played tug of war for a couple of minutes, with me hoping and praying that it didn't come off the hook. At one point it seemed to become disinterested in our little game and headed for the deeper water out in the river channel and I started to believe I would never land this fish.

After fighting it back in close it decided to head toward the downed tree I mentioned earlier, and I feared it would either wrap in the branches or around one of the boulders in the water before me. Thankfully, it wasn't able to pull off an escape, and a minute or so later I was ble to bring it to hand. It wasn't big for a Carp, only about 6 or 7 pounds, but it was as bright and shiny as new copper wire and had given me a great thrill as the first fish on my new rod and reel.

As I unhooked the jig I realized that the hook had been bent nearly straight by the strong jaws and powerful fight of this "golden bone", and my respect for this wet warrior returned anew. As it slid through my hands back into its watery haunt, leaving me with a mitt full of slime, I smiled. This had been very good.

I was at the local fish market a couple of days ago, and as I saw the stack of Carp for sale I thought of the many days this fish has out pulled, out fought, and on rare occasion, out jumped, everything else caught on any given day.

There, over shadowed by the Striped Bass, the fresh shrimp and the Tuna steaks lay the simple, everyday Carp. Too well-known to be appreciated as it should, to common to be thought special, much maligned while showing itself a survivor capable of thriving in nearly any environment.

I looked, I smiled, and I walked away knowing that we would meet again, and that it was not a certainty that in our next meeting, I would again be the winner.