Another Night Carp

 Two years ago, while targeting walleye, a big common took me completely by surprise and ate my chartreuse and yellow Woolly Bugger. The conditions were ideal for giant walleye that night and the fish didn’t fight that hard, for a common carp. It really had me thinking I’d just hooked the next IGFA fly tackle world record walleye. Instead of spending the rest of the night trying to get a 15 pound walleye on a certified scale so I could submit it, I instead was wondering how the f*** the 20 pound carp I caught managed to find my streamer in dark, murky water at night. Carp clearly aren’t only scent-based feeders, and I suspect they aren’t sight-based either. I think that fish felt the fly. I know very well how they react to anything hitting the surface of the water. In fact, the right sort of “ploop” can trigger a pretty aggressive response from some feeding carp. Of course, it sends others packing. 

To reinforce my theory, almost the exact same thing happened this year. The prior experience told me that I’d hooked a carp this time, but the take was so aggressive I second guessed it a few times. In fact, this fish slammed the fly mere seconds after it hit the water. But it was indeed a common, not a huge walleye. Why they seem to fight so much less impressively at night I still have not figured out, but the immediacy of that left no doubt… like a “lateral line take” (Dave and Amelia Jensen talk about this in the context of trout a lot), that carp didn’t see the fly enter the water, nor did it smell it as there was nothing to smell, but it reacted to the “plop” and sought out the source. 

Though I doubt this can be applied to blind casting at carp at night- I think trying to make this happen would be just about impossible -in low light condition where you can see the fish well but they might have a difficult time visually detecting a fly, perhaps a very quiet presentation would be less likely to produce than one that has the fly entering the water with a little splash or plop. Worth thinking about, I think, if you are serious about targeting carp with a fly rod. 

Until next time, 

Fish for the love of fish.

Fish for the love of places fish live.

Fish for you.

And stay safe and healthy.

Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, John, Elizabeth, Brandon, Christopher, Shawn, Mike, Sara, Leo, C, Franky, Geof, Luke, and Noah for making Connecticut Fly Angler possible. If you want to support this blog, look for the Patreon link at the top of the right side-bar in web version. 

Edited by Cheyenne Terrien

Farmington River Cleanup & A Gift From a Friend

 Last weekend I took part in the Farmington River cleanup organized in large part by the Farmington River Anglers Association. It was a fantastic event with a big turnout and some serious effort put in by all involved, and something I hope to see continue for years to come! Rich Strolis and others ran the event very smoothly and an impressive amount of trash was removed from the river. I took part as a team member from Native Fish Coalition along with board members Michael Day, Josh Parsons and John Wadsworth. We felt pretty good about our four bags of garbage and a few larger items, but some teams brought out such impressive treasures as a recliner, baby doll, bubble gum machine, and entire rear axle! 

Sometimes I have a pretty strong dislike for the "fishing community" in general, and all the in-fighting, controversy, and what not that takes place. But sometimes there are indeed good things that come out of it. 

Speaking of, one of my favorite people recently sent me a wonderful gift out of the blue. Since Covid has prevented me from seeing a lot of my friends, this lovely painting and wet fly from Alan Petrucci (Small Stream Reflections) was a wonderful surprise. 

Though Alan and I haven't gotten to fish together in a long while, I'm sure we'll end up on the same brook trout stream at the same time soon. 

Goldfish On The Fly

 Goldfish are a notable and often problematic invasive species found throughout the world. They are native to East Asia, were selectively bred to create the vibrantly colored ornamental variations seen today, and spread around the world for hundreds of years. They are one of the most popular aquarium fish and one of the most widespread domesticated fish. In the wild, goldfish can cause significant problems where they are not native. They reproduce rapidly and despite often being orange and poorly suited to remaining hidden, they quickly overpopulate. Though goldfish are certainly not apex predators, their presence usually disrupts whatever ecosystem they are released in. 

I’ve encountered goldfish sporadically throughout the years in CT waters, but never any big enough to catch on the fly. Then, one day this spring, while looking for water snakes with my friend Bruce, we spotted a school of goldfish in a small public pond. I’ve since returned three times- once on my own and twice with Noah -specifically to fish for those goldfish. On the first visit I didn’t get any goldfish but I was able to determine what species were in the pond. Three that I saw were native fish: golden shiners, brown bullhead, and pumpkinseed sunfish. Two more, other than the goldfish, were invasive species: common carp and mosquitofish (whether they were eastern or western I am not sure, but western is more likely as westerns are the only of the two species so far confirmed in CT). There was only one common carp in the pond, an 18 pound or so fish likely introduced intentionally with the hopes it would do something to control weed growth. 

On the second trip, Noah and I were more strategized. We brought bread to chum in the goldfish. The golden shiners and bullheads got to it first, and we got a couple bullheads each. It took a long time for any goldfish to come around. Eventually some did. I had on a size 16 Walt’s Worm under an indicator, but interesting fish would lose interest in the fly as soon as it sank to depth and suspended. They seemed far more interested in a moving fly. This was interesting to me because I’d seen the same behavior from lake chubsucker, a North American native fish. Lake and creek chubsucker both share a nearly identical niche with goldfish and are visually, anatomically and ecologically similar; a clear example of convergent evolution. 

Eventually, I managed to get one of the two goldfish that were spending time in our baited area to take my little nymph, and after no fight at all I had lifer #178 at hand. It was certainly a pretty fish, ornately colored and lustrous. This fish was also completely unnatural: no undomesticated, uncultured, native goldfish would look anything like this, nor would such a fish be swimming in a pond in Connecticut were it not for human intervention. For some reason I really liked that little fish and felt compelled to catch more. When Noah wasn’t able to get his lifer on the first attempt, it was a good excuse for me to return for more. 

Lifelist fish #178, goldfish, Carassius auratus. Rank: Species.

On attempt two, we brought corn as well as bread. Our justification for that was how disinterested in the floating bits of bread the goldfish were and how hard it was for Noah to keep bread on the hook. Bread still helped draw in the hungry masses, and we had some goldfish come into the swim much sooner than we had the previous trip. This time I focused on golden shiners before the goldfish showed interest. I’ve become increasingly more obsessed with that species lately, as well. Unfortunately this pond seems not to hold any large ones. 

Noah got the first goldfish- a lovely wild-type. That was exactly the color expression I wanted to catch, as it would be a nice contrast with the cultured ornamental version I’d already caught. I ended up getting three goldfish on the fly: a bright orange one, another with orange and black patterning, and an almost wild looking but still fairly colorful individual. They were actually surprisingly willing to eat and even chase a nymph. If it stopped moving, they lost interest. This is of course what we’d already observed on the trip before, but it was nice to know that behavior wasn’t a fluke. 

Eventually I broke down, put on a piece of corn and caught a true wild-type. I’m not sure if these goldfish had simply been present and reproducing long enough for the more natural color genetics to arise or if some wild type individuals had been put in the pond originally. There wasn’t a notable variety of sizes, so I can’t be sure these fish are actually reproducing in that pond. 

Catching those goldfish coincided with a general urge to catch colorful cyprinids. I’ve got this strange, previously non-existent compulsion to fish for ornamental fish. Next on the list, something I’d been after for years: mirror carp. Another genetic variation cultivated for ornamental purposes. 

Until next time, 

Fish for the love of fish.

Fish for the love of places fish live.

Fish for you.

And stay safe and healthy.

Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, John, Elizabeth, Brandon, Christopher, Shawn, Mike, Sara, Leo, C, Franky, Geof, Luke, and Noah for making Connecticut Fly Angler possible. If you want to support this blog, look for the Patreon link at the top of the right side-bar in web version. 

Edited by Cheyenne Terrien

Convergence '21: I Brake For Amphibians

 Spring is here in New England, and so continues my love letter series to my favorite time of year.

 Before chances of stripers eating river herring had begun, I was out in the dark looking for the first amphibian convergences of the year. Warm, rainy nights in late winter and early spring call amphibians back up to the surface from their winter slumber. The same conditions get me excited as well: I don my safety vest, put new batteries in my flashlight, and hop in the car to go see the remarkable migration. 

Spotted salamanders are the most well-known, and possibly the most charismatic of the amphibians that make the great migration to vernal pools each spring. They are beautiful big salamanders and certainly deserve the attention. Every time I see the tell-tale shape of an adult spotted salamander in my headlights, head lifted high, I get a very specific feeling. After a long winter without seeing wild reptiles and amphibians, relief is certainly a part of the equation. 

Other salamanders are on the move as well, including four-toed salamanders, two lined salamanders, red backed salamanders, blue spotted salamanders, marbled salamanders, and a few more species. Though not so well-known these species are just as important.

Four-toed salamander

Wood frogs

On the best night this year, I saw in excess of 100 spotted salamanders crossing the road as well as hundreds of other individuals of various species. It was a truly spectacular show to kick off spring. 

Spring peeper

Four-toed salamander

Marbled salamander

I was out on a dozen nights this spring and will definitely be out on a few more. I moved many amphibians out of the road and hopefully made a bit of a difference in the roadkill statistics. Please, if you can avoid it, don't drive on warm rainy nights. Roads have segmented most amphibian populations and mortality while crossing roads is a huge factor in the declines of salamanders, frogs, toads, turtles, and snakes throughout the country. Please brake for these animals!

Until next time, 

Fish for the love of fish.

Fish for the love of places fish live.

Fish for you.

And stay safe and healthy.

Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, John, Elizabeth, Brandon, Christopher, Shawn, Mike, Sara, Leo, C, Franky, Geof, Luke, and Noah for making Connecticut Fly Angler possible. If you want to support this blog, look for the Patreon link at the top of the right side-bar in web version. 

Giant Smallmouth Bass on Small Flies

 I had such an obsession with big streamers for many years. I just wanted to cast the largest possible flies for every predator fish species. I was using 8 to 12 inch streamers for largemouth and pickerel, flies up to 10 inches for trout, and the Biggest Beast Fleyes I could manage for stripers and was doing so regardless of conditions, the water I was fishing, and the time of year. It was pretty silly, honestly. There's no merit to fishing big flies no matter what. There is merit to fishing big, often huge flies when it makes sense, but that isn't what I was doing. While perhaps the best fish for me to use to describe why bigger isn't always better are trout, it was smallmouth bass that really proved to me that I should pay more attention to natural forage than the current trends in fly tying. 

Over a five year period, all but two of my ten largest smallmouth have been caught on flies less than 2 inches long, and half have been on flies about an inch long. For most of those years I was targeting big smallmouth almost exclusively with big flies, but I was hardly catching any at all. Over the last three years, I've stopped doing that, and suddenly I'm catching both more and bigger smallmouth. This year, so far, has been phenomenally illustrative. The 17+ inch smallmouth I posted about last week was the first and smallest of the bronze backs I've caught so far this season, and also on the largest fly, a mere 1 3/4 inch woolly bugger. Really hammering the point home is my second smallmouth of the year, a measured 21 1/2 inch fat beast of a bass. 

That fish ate a size 10 chartreuse jig streamer under an indicator in rough conditions, really ideal float n' fly weather. The take sunk the indicator, but not like one might expect a huge bass to sink an indicator. It was the epitome of gentle. The fight was anything but, and quite a stomach turner on 4lb tippet. That fish kicked my ass but I didn't let it win the fight. Obviously there was some celebratory cursing both when I got my thumb on her lip and when I watched her swim off... bass like this one don't come easy, and it may well be the largest smallmouth I've ever caught on the fly. 

That fish was a true elephant on a peanut. I wasn't fishing for something else either, I was specifically looking for a large smallmouth. 

A few days later a similar set of conditions presented in terms of frontal passage and temperature drop, though a few hours later in the day. This time darkness made fishing an indicator useless, so I instead fished an inch long woolly bugger on a slow crawl. The water was shallow and the bottom was sand and gravel, so I could creep the fly without hanging up. A subtle increase in pressure was all that signaled the take of an 18 inch bass. 

There's clearly something wrong with the "bigger is better" mentality, and it all boils down to forage. I've gradually come to the realization that location and conditions dramatically overshadow fly size when it comes to catching larger fish. If the primary forage being preyed upon is large; like the river herring or shad stripers often chase in April and May, fish large flies that imitate that forage. These smallmouth I'm catching are primarily feeding on juvenile sunfish that are no more than a couple inches long as well as a mix of insects. Maybe I'd catch one on a big streamer, but it makes much more sense to pay attention to the ecology of the location. At this point my confidence is in a fly that closely matches the size, profile, and behavior of the most abundant natural forage- whether I'm after big fish or lots of fish, such a fly is more likely to accomplish my goal. 

Until next time, 

Fish for the love of fish.

Fish for the love of places fish live.

Fish for you.

And stay safe and healthy.

Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, John, Elizabeth, Brandon, Christopher, Shawn, Mike, Sara, Leo, C, Franky, Geof, Luke, and Noah for making Connecticut Fly Angler possible. If you want to support this blog, look for the Patreon link at the top of the right side-bar in web version. 

Edited by Cheyenne Terrien

A Surprise Lifer In Western NY

If it hadn't been for one unexpected turn, my last trip for steelhead would have been completely disappointing. Actually it wasn't completely unexpected, but if Noah and I both weren't the sort to stray away from the target species when a viable opportunity to catch a new species presented itself we wouldn't have had this shot. The progeny of pacific salmon that successfully spawn in the Salmon River can be found sporadically throughout the river. We happened to find schools of them in a series of loosely connected puddles adjacent to the river. They were actually rising, and luckily Noah has one small mosquito dry fly with him. With a very poorly tapered leader, that little dry, and Noah's 9 weight rod, we actually managed to catch a couple. A bit of quick identification work proved them to be cohos, and so not only was Noah's a lifer (because he'd never caught any Pacific salmon species) but mine was as well. 

Lifelist Fish #178, Coho salmon, Oncorhynchus kisutch. Rank: Species.

Those little buggers were actually pretty cool. It was almost like fishing for wild brook trout except they were far less skittish. In fact, they at times appeared to spook and darted around as though they had been, but continued to take the fly aggressively. They were also beautiful little fish, with bright oranges on their fins and well defined blue parr marks. I'd certainly like to catch some adults, but getting these little wild parr was pretty cool. Not to mention, it had been months since I'd caught a lifer. Ironically, the previous had been another Pacific salmon and in the same river. In between I'd had to take swordspine snook off my life list as it turned out the tiny unusual looking snook I'd thought was a swordspine was actually a fat snook. Though my focus on acquiring new species has waned a bit recently, there's another lifer I've added to my list that I'll be really excited to share very soon. 

Until next time, 

Fish for the love of fish.

Fish for the love of places fish live.

Fish for you.

And stay safe and healthy.

Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, John, Elizabeth, Brandon, Christopher, Shawn, Mike, Sara, Leo, C, Franky, Geof, Luke, and Noah for making Connecticut Fly Angler possible. If you want to support this blog, look for the Patreon link at the top of the right side-bar in web version. 

Edited by Cheyenne Terrien

White Sucker Insanity

 Every now and then I accomplish exactly what I want to. This is very, very rare, but it does happen. The spring sucker run had already been in progress for a little while when, on March 30th, I hit an absurdly good bite the likes of which I'd never seen before. My primary goal that day had actually been an abject failure: I'd been after fallfish, specifically large ones, and I'd not found anything remotely like what I was looking for in that regard. The day turned around the moment I came around one bend on the last stream I had on my hit list and found a run so full of suckers that I couldn't see the stream-bed at all. That wasn't even the only spot like that. Within about a hundred yards of creek, I may have seen over a thousand white suckers. And they weren't shy. I primarily indicator-nymphed, and that bobber dropped again and again. The bite was constant from the time I arrived until the time I left. There really were no lulls at all. It was the most insane white sucker fishing I've ever seen. 

Fat, egg laden females were followed by colored up, tubercle covered males. Each fish fought superbly: some jumped while others made mad dashes downstream. This was a small stream I was fishing, I could never hope to have an outing this action packed with any other species on water this size in CT. I was some of the most fun I've ever had with a fly rod in my hand, honestly. I was giddy. 

Most of the fish took a bead head Hare's Ear Soft Hackle. There was little need for me to bother changing as it never seemed to decrease in effectiveness at all. Maybe an egg would have worked better but I was hooking fish darn near every drift. I also discovered I had to set the hook very carefully to prevent repetitively snagging fish. The sort of quick, sharp set I use when trout fishing worked, but also snagged fish. A gentle lifting hook set stopped that entirely. It's essentially the same sort of hook set you'd use fishing for Great Lakes salmon with nymphs or eggs, for the same reason- snag prevention. 

By the time it was too dark to see, I'd caught more white suckers than I'd probably caught in my entire life prior. It had been exactly the sort of sucker fishing I'd hoped to experience this spring, and though I'll certainly be casting at some more before the run ends, I felt completely satisfied and was happy to move onto another major target species, a feeling I've gotten to enjoy only a handful of times over the years. Of course next spring I'll be checking back on logs to try hitting this sort of bite again, but until then, I'm on to the next fish. 

Until next time, 

Fish for the love of fish.

Fish for the love of places fish live.

Fish for you.

And stay safe and healthy.

Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, John, Elizabeth, Brandon, Christopher, Shawn, Mike, Sara, Leo, C, Franky, Geof, Luke, and Noah for making Connecticut Fly Angler possible. If you want to support this blog, look for the Patreon link at the top of the right side-bar in web version. 

Edited by Cheyenne Terrien

Giant Spring Crappie

 One of my favorite species to target is black crappie. I particularly like catching really big black crappie, larger than 14 inches. Spring and Fall are definitely the best times to try to get those slabs, and for my money Spring is the more likely of the two to produce true giants. On bigger water where I have shore access and know big crappies are present, I focus on the northern end- especially wherever muddy bottom is present -and I fish the hour after sunset. Big, egg laden female crappies and smaller males concentrate themselves in these areas prior to spawning and feed most heavily late in the day. 

I've put a fair bit of time into giant crappies this spring. I wouldn't say I've been wildly successful, but I've certainly caught quite a few good fish. Most evenings only produced a few crappies but when each of them is well over a foot long, well, that's not too shabby. 

The trickiest thing about catching big crappies on the fly after finding a place that has them is detecting strikes. Sometimes they slam flies aggressively, but more often than not the take isn't that obvious. Usually I perform something like a Leisenring Lift when crappie fishing, because the sag of the line allows me to see when a fish has interrupted my fly. When I can't see the line the same presentation still works because the rod tip is moving continuously. When a fish takes I usually feel sudden light tension, set the hook low to the side and usually the game is one. Of course these are crappie, so the game usually doesn't last that long. I had a couple giant crappie this spring perform uncharacteristically hard fights. One jumped like a smallmouth, another performed a blistering run in shallow water. Clearly they can't all be said to come in like a wet sock. 

With about dozen big crappies to hand close to home, I soon started to get curious about some other areas. Big panfish fever had set in. I want big everything. Bluegills, pumpkinseeds, redbreast sunfish, perch, rock bass, golden shiners... this spring m focus has been and will continue to be focusing on getting trophy specimens of each species I target. 

Until next time, 

Fish for the love of fish.

Fish for the love of places fish live.

Fish for you.

And stay safe and healthy.

Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, John, Elizabeth, Brandon, Christopher, Shawn, Mike, Sara, Leo, C, Franky, Geof, Luke, and Noah for making Connecticut Fly Angler possible. If you want to support this blog, look for the Patreon link at the top of the right side-bar in web version. 

Salter Brook Trout: What Is, What Was, And What Still Could Be. Pt. 4

 VICTORY… for now.

Many of you have probably already heard that Wareham’s voters shot down the NOTOS rezoning proposal by a wide margin. This is certainty a tremendous victory, and a very visible example of what good advocacy can accomplish. As a treat, I’d like to share a little bit of what has potentially been saved by this vote. 

One late winter evening, after exploring some water in southeastern Massachusetts that I wasn’t familiar with, I gave up and went where I knew I’d have a shot at a salter. Red Brook’s sinuous path through the salt marsh glowed like goldenrod in the evening sun. I had decided not to fish above the tide line at all. I was sure I could catch fish upriver but I wanted to know that, if I did catch a fish, it would be a bona-fide salter: a brook trout caught in brackish, tidal water. With a classic brook trout streamer on the end of my tippet, I gently made my way through the marsh. Salt marshes are delicate wherever they exist, and this one was even more special than the average southern New England marsh. I cast my Edson Tiger in each bend, cut, and eddy, waiting for a grab I suspected may never come. Then, all so suddenly, it did. A brook trout peeled away from the sod bank and went airborne on the take. 

After a spirited battle I had at hand a work of art. Painted with the same colors as the sun that was gracing the evening sky, but with a noticeable chrome cast when viewed at the right angle. This was exactly the fish I was looking for, which is a rare occurrence. More often than not I don’t quite find what I’m after. 

Red Brook was not done with me though. I was running out of river, very literally, when a fish of even more impressive stature made an appearance. I was almost in Buttermilk Bay, the furthest down the brook I’d ever encountered a brook trout. He ate on two consecutive casts and looked every bit of 14 inches. Both takes were miniature versions of what it looks like when a white shark blows up on a seal cut-out being towed behind a boat. I did not connect, but was left in complete shock just as I’d been when a fish of similar stature performed just such a routine the first time I ever fished this stream. 

I left feeling rejuvenated, with a sense of hope I didn’t have when I’d stepped out of the car. But even though it looks like Red Brook will be safe, for at least a while, it and the Quashnet are stars in a very dark sky. Salters in the Northeast still face more challenges than they can rightfully be expected to survive. This saga is not over yet- far from it. 

Until next time, 

Fish for the love of fish.

Fish for the love of places fish live.

Fish for you.

And stay safe and healthy.

Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, John, Elizabeth, Brandon, Christopher, Shawn, Mike, Sara, Leo, C, Franky, Geof, Luke, and Noah for making Connecticut Fly Angler possible. If you want to support this blog, look for the Patreon link at the top of the right side-bar in web version. 

Edited by Cheyenne Terrien

Big Smallmouth, Walleye, and the Importance of Chartreuse & Yellow

 With late winter/early spring rain comes my first real shot at large walleye on the fly in my area. This is one of my favorite times of year, when getting big fish on the fly becomes a regular occurrence again. I've gotten more and more into targeting trophy specimens of each fish species I regularly fish for, and consistently getting large walleye on the fly is one of my proudest achievements. With the weather perfect for it on March 26th, I set out just after sunset confident something exciting would happen. But before I could catch a walleye, a big swirl in very shallow water drew my attention. I had on a woolly bugger with a yellow tail, chartreuse body, and white hackle, a fly that I could not lie without. I dropped it where the swirl had been and quickly felt a grab. It didn't feel like a walleye, and was soon airborne to prove that it most definitely was not... I don't think walleye actually jump, but smallmouth bass sure do. My first smallmouth of the year was a pretty damn good one. 

Though the yellow & chartreuse Woolly Bugger is primarily my choice for big walleye and crappie, it has produced many big smallmouth bass, largemouth bass, and some bullheads and carp as well while night fishing. It loses some of its charm in daylight, which isn't all that surprising. But for whatever reason between the time the sun sets and before it comes back up again, there are few flies for freshwater "warmwater" species that will draw quite as much attention. 

On to the task at hand: get the first walleye of the season. 

It didn't take that long. The fish was right along the contour I'd expected, ate just like a walleye should, and gave the slow, head-shaky fight most walleye perform. It was a typical one for this spot but a nice walleye for the fly rod. I rarely see big fly tackle walleyes, most seem to be around 18". My average is 23". Much of my success can be chalked up to living right near a spot where large walleye routinely move into very shallow water. 

That was the first, but a couple weeks later it is still my only walleye so far this season. This season is off to a slow start. Smallmouth and the huge early season crappies though? Very different story; stay tuned. 

Until next time, 

Fish for the love of fish.

Fish for the love of places fish live.

Fish for you.

And stay safe and healthy.

Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, John, Elizabeth, Brandon, Christopher, Shawn, Mike, Sara, Leo, C, Franky, Geof, Luke, and Noah for making Connecticut Fly Angler possible. If you want to support this blog, look for the Patreon link at the top of the right side-bar in web version. 

Edited by Cheyenne Terrien