More Mackerel

 I was pretty hyped after my first successful southern Rhode Island mackerel mission, honestly. They might not be big or impressive but I gravitate heavily to underutilized fisheries that I don't hear much about. I was fired up to get back after it. It wasn't long before I got another chance. This time, the weather was much more pleasant and the tide started out pretty good for the first area I'd wanted to fish, the spot that had showed promise but not produced on my previous trip. This time, with a higher tide and calmer conditions, not only was I able to fish it more effectively but I could regularly see fish come up and break.

Now, here's the funny thing: if I cast vaguely near a breaking mackerel, and I mean 40-60 feet away but at least in the same direction, I hooked up almost immediately. When I landed my flies right near a break or boil though I got nothing. That seemed pretty odd. Maybe it was entirely incidental, I don't know. 

For a while, the action was pretty steady. The Garth got there and I caught two more before it seemed to end. There was loads of bait around still, just no more breaking mackerel. 

I caught two more before it really ended, and we decided to go to another spot. We headed over to where I'd hammered the mackerel last time, and I did get one there but it was clear that not much was going on. We then hammered cunners for a while. 

The rest of the day was strange. We saw a seal chasing mackerel around, we tried and failed to catch tautog, we caught more cunners. It was warm and calm and weird... just a surreal December day, from start to finish. Catching mackerel in the winter in Southern New England will remain surreal to me for a while, I think.

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, Streamer Swinger, 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.

Small Crab Fly, Easy Tautog

 I've fiddled on and off with catching tautog on the fly over the years, sometimes with stronger focus, sometimes with very little. There was a time I really had my sights on catching a fly world record tog, but I've come to realize I just don't fish for them enough to aim so high. I've got to figure out how to catch any tautog consistently at all on the fly, regardless of size. This fall I really wanted to get out and target them a bunch, but I only went once. On that one trip though I do think I figured something out. 

It was a slow day, bait guys weren't getting much with green crabs. I went out to the end of the jetty and dropped down a very small, pale crab pattern. Almost immediately I was on. A small but powerful wrasse had darted out and grabbed the crab on the fall. It wasn't the biggest tautog I've ever caught, but any tog on the fly is a nice tog.

As a proof of concept, a much larger tog stole the fly from me just a short time later. Annoyingly I didn't have any more little crabs. I'm realizing something I should have a lot sooner: smaller is better for tautog. They eat in an un-ideal way for getting hookups on artificial flies, nipping at and trying to break bits off their prey. Sometimes they are in the mood to chomp down a whole large meal, but when they aren't and I want to get the on flies, I should definitely just be using really small crabs. It makes sense. I like using small Asian shore crabs for tog when I do bait fish for them because I find I get far more and better hookups. The fish eat the hole crab at once rather than bites of it. I'm thinking, down the road, that tiny Merkins and small Flexo Crabs are going to end up being my mainstays. Hopefully I actually target these finicky little buggers a whole bunch next year rather than just once! Perhaps that's my New Year's Resolution: fish for tautog more. 

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, Streamer Swinger, 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 Lone Tiger in the Bridge Pool

Cheyenne and I walked down to the Bridge Pool one dull, chilly November day. This was the first time she'd ever been to my home river with me, which made it special. Few places have had such a significant impact on my life. The Bridge Pool is pretty much the epicenter of my fly fishing world. It was quite a playground for a fly fishing obsessed teenager; a stream stolen from the Rockies and hidden in CT, just a short bike ride from home and hidden from view. 

The Bridge Pool has changed a lot over the years, but was especially different this time as the old cart bridge that was the pool's name sake was gone. The pool is still there but the bridge is gone. That was a bit sad, as I can remember many years ago going on hikes with my mother and younger brother and walking across that bridge. I can remember looking down at that pool and wondering what sort of creatures might be hiding in its depths. 

I've had a whole lot of years and chances since then to figure out exactly the sort of things that swim in that pool. I'd caught everything from crappies to 22 inch wild brown trout in there, and a whole lot in between. Today, though, the Bridge Pool would give up a fish I'd never caught within its confines before. Kneeling on the bank, with Cheyenne behind me, I cast an Ausable Ugly under an indicator into the heart of the pool. On the fifth cast, the bobber dropped and I set the hook into a substantial trout. It wasn't a trout, actually. It was a trout char hybrid; a big holdover tiger. I'd caught rogue holdover tigers and even a few wild ones out of my home water before, but never out of the bridge pool. It was a handsome specimen, though one that I didn't feel should be permitted to live there any longer. Stocked tigers are ravenous predators that can have a notable individual impact in a small system like this one.

Cheyenne and I ate that fish that night, along with a rainbow I'd caught at another river later in the day, baked wrapped in tinfoil with lemon and spices. There was a time I would have released that fish and scoffed at another angler for deciding to take it. 

I've grown a lot since I first cast a fly into the Bridge Pool.

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, Streamer Swinger, 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 Brown Trout in the Dark

 It was never going to be a warm night, but if the temperatures don't dip into the teens and the other conditions are tolerable, I take what nights I can get between the end of November and the end of March. Trout eat at night all year, especially really large wild trout, so when an angler wants to catch the largest wild brown trout they can, taking winter nights off isn't a good idea. But perhaps neither is the original intent if you value your sanity. Cold, dark, long winter nights rarely produce the excitement that summer and fall can give. Hookups are few and far between and rarely is there not at least one body part- usually more -that's in pain. The air hurts you in the winter. 

Garth had texted me asking if I'd like to night fish the Farmington with him earlier that day, and I said yes but with a caveat. We wouldn't fish the Farmington, I had better ideas. I wouldn't tell him the names of the streams though. He rolled into my driveway a bit after 9:00 asking if we were going to this river or that river... none were correct answers. Eventually I had to tell him where we were going, but all I said was "head like you're going to that one burger joint." That was enough of an answer for him. "No!" he replied. "There? No!"

He'd fished the same spot, I knew that. But never for trout, and I was sure he didn't think there'd be wild brown trout there let alone giant ones. Most people wouldn't think there could be large wild trout at this spot, and I'm okay with that. This was exactly the sort of place I target when looking for monster nocturnal browns. 

We covered one run for a little while without anything to show for it but ice crystals in our guides. I kept thinking about the next run downstream, which was essentially the head of one excessively long glide. I knew from a recent daylight visit that there were lots of fallfish down there, on the order of hundreds, and up to 14 inches. There were also lots of spot tail shiners and juvenile white suckers. This was exactly the sort of place a large brown trout would visit under the cover of darkness. It was much too shallow and visible for such a fish to spend any time there in daylight, but without the sun shining down on this run, a big predatory fish could do its dirty deeds without eagles, herons, or people seeing it. Perhaps there would be one exception tonight. Maybe Garth and I would get to see one of these fish. 

We made our way down and slowly worked the run. I was fishing a large, black articulated streamer, about the size of many of the smaller fallfish and suckers. I swung the fly through every possible feeding lane, working it slowly, only manipulating it very slightly with small twitches. I got about as far down the run as I'd reasonably expect a trout to be when one decided to interrupt my routine. The take was subtle, just a faint tick. I lifted the rod decisively but not too sharply, and felt an initial jerky head-shake. I stripped down to bury the hook if it wasn't already and that told the fish something was really up. It began making sweeping head-shakes, yet not breaking the surface, and made a decisive turn to head downstream. This told me just how large this trout must be. It had control here, I couldn't have easily turned it. I didn't feel I needed to though, and instead opted to follow. Garth heard this commotion but wasn't yet sure exactly what was going on. 

Suddenly movement ceased, and there were a couple faint sensations of tension changing. Nothing felt good. I pulled and nothing pulled back. The fly was stuck on something and that was no longer the fish. I could tell that it was a branch, probably quite a small one as there was a bit of flex. As only a handful of fish had managed before, this beast had perfectly transferred my fly to a branch. I can picture a lot of the fish that have done this to me before because I've seen most of them. But this one I don't know. I could let my imagination run wild. It could be a giant silvery hen, with black spots like bits of pepper. Or perhaps a lean, heavily kyped buck with giant red spots and an orange belly. But I don't know, and I never will. All I know is that it was huge. Garth and I discussed the situation and decided to continue with our night as if that could happen again. Maybe it could have, but it didn't. We crept around in the glow of street lights and businesses trying not to cast shadows over deep pools and log jams. The sense I got was that monsters lurked here. Perhaps I'll encounter one some other night. Maybe I'll even get to hold it for a moment. 

Happy Holidays everybody. Stay safe, healthy, and warm. Fish when you can. Be good to the people around you. 

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, Streamer Swinger, 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

Autumn Char Stalking

 I was sitting on my tailgate peeling off wet waders when a local stopped with his window rolled down and asked "how'd you do?"

"Just got here" I replied. 

Seeing that I was clearly removing waders that had very recently been fished in, he gave me a sideways look before moving on. He probably thought I was being an asshole, but I wasn't lying. I'd left my waders on while driving between streams and really had no need for them here. More and more these days I enjoy fishing a small brook trout streams in just my boots and jeans. I don't feel that tromping through the water is in the best interest of the fish, especially between late October and mid March when the next generation of char are still growing in the gravel. But I've also come to relish the challenge of getting into position without getting my feet wet. Wading up the middle of these tiny streams is a short-cut that keeps me from learning important skills, be it casting, stalking techniques, or just the skill of sitting and watching, either unnoticed by my query or just still for long enough that they'd forgotten I was there. 

Brook trout get to be their most spectacular in autumn, and that revolves around their spawn. The males are particularly stunning, and to me it has nothing to do with elegance. Late winter, spring, and summer brook trout are elegant. In the fall these char ugly up, especially the males. They turn into little demons with dark bellies and mouths, red fins and lower flanks, big teeth, and bad attitude. I personally find it spectacular when fish ugly-up, regardless of the reason. Most fish ugly-up to spawn, especially the males, and to me that's often when they look really really cool. I was sneaking around this stream where the fish had probably just quit spawning a week or two prior hoping to find some gnarly looking males. It isn't that hard to find those guys, they're trying to bulk back up for winter. 

Appropriately, I caught the first dozen fish this day on the Ausable Ugly. Ugly eats ugly, I suppose. After a spell the urge to use something a tiny bit more elegant arose. I switched Adirondack tyers from Garfield to Betters, and though Betters' style could perhaps best be described as messy, the Ausable Bomber is a lovely little fly. It ended up taking the best fish of the day.

Noah and I were talking a little while ago about just how large brook trout's mouths are. This is no more evident than in the late fall when most of the fish's mouths are enlarged for the purpose of biting each other. An 8 inch male brookie might have a mouth the same size as a foot long smallmouth bass, loaded with much larger teeth. Those large mouths can fit a lot of food, too. Autumn char really are aggressive little eating machines at their most impressive.

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, Streamer Swinger, 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.

Historic December Weather and How You Can Help

 On the night of December 10th, I needed to get sleep. I had an early trip the next morning. I couldn't sleep though. I was glued to my phone and laptop for hours, because something remarkable and devastating was taking place across several Midwestern and Southern States. My Instagram stories follow the events. 

The warned cell southwest of Jonesboro, Arkansas in te above screenshot was the early stages of a monster supercell that produced two long-tracked preliminary rated EF4 tornadoes. The first tornado formed near Bowman, Arkansas, and remained on the ground, getting violent near Monette Arkansas, before the supercell performed a rapid cycle after the tornado crossed the Mississippi.

A new violent, long tracked tornado then rapidly formed while the old tornado dissipated. The new tornado remained on the ground for hours, inflicting damage and upending lives on it's way through Kentucky. 

Though many seem to be suggesting, in the days that have followed, that December tornadoes are rare, this is certainly not the case. There is more precedent for this event than one might think, with a history of significant December tornadoes dating back as long as records have been kept. This year, La Niña conditions are driving volatile late season severe weather. Though it was clear to many of us that there would be a severe weather event on Dec. 10, and the tornado was reasonably well covered by the NWS and local stations, it still took lives. This was one of the deadliest tornado events in recent memory. 

I had multiple breakdowns as the events of that night unfolded and as images and videos came out over the following days. I love meteorology and have an obsessive need to forecast, chase, and photograph tornadoes, but I have a really hard time watching people's lives ending, and I knew that was what I was watching that night. It's time for us to help. If you can give, please do. The following is a list of ways to donate towards relief for the victims of the Decemember 10, 2021 tornado outbreak:

Red Cross

Team WKY Relief Fund

CDP

Thank You.

All imagery used in this post is owned by RadarScope. 

Surprise Giant Rainbow

 On one of my salmon outings this November, I was working my way through a shallow run that I sometimes move a salmon or two in with a conehead Ally's Shrimp. I must credit Ben Bilello for my knowledge and use of this fly, which has become a top five fly for me for CT broodstock salmon. When the water is low and warm I fish a very small unweighted version, but in the moderate to high flows that dominate November and December the conehead has the way to go. On this unfortunately sunny, breezy day the conehead Ally's had already moved one nice salmon that never actually touched the fly, nor would it come back. I'd tried to play the rest and re-tie game but that fish just wasn't having it. 

Now, working down this run, I was starting to think this day was going to end in a skunking. Then suddenly I was tight. The fish had hit in the deepest, fastest slot, somewhere there's often fish but in a place I've always had trouble fishing a fly well when the water is up, just due to the casting distance and angle. I feel like I've cracked the code now though, as I was able to make it work even with my 5wt by adjusting my position a bit. 

The fish was head shaking a lot and felt heavy, but wasn't acting out like some salmon do. I gained line as it lazily came towards me, throbbing a bit but seeming not to know what was going on. Once it got about twelve feet from me the fish came up, and instead of the colors and patterns I could expect to see on a broodstock salmon I saw an awful lot of pink. There was a short standoff in which time the fish gave me enough time to decipher that if was, in fact, a preposterous rainbow, before it decided to try to take some evasive action. Gigantic though she was, this was still a domesticated stocked trout and I made fairly quick work of her. 

What this really made me want was the opportunity to swing big flies for native rainbows, be they steelhead or just big non-migratory ones. These hatchery fish just don't fill the void for me. It's unfortunate that I have to to drive clear across the country for that. 

For now, though, if you want to pull on some of these guys, book a trip! They're decent practice for a lot of other fishing situations, especially now that they've settled into at least somewhat "natural" trout behavior. I spey cast for them, tight-line nymphs and streamers, indicator fish, and of course if they're rising some dry fly fly fishing is on the docket... either whatever method you'd like to focus on or whatever will work best that day, your pick. And although this particular day wasn't great for the broodstock salmon on the Shetucket and this season has been weird overall, if you book during warm and cloudy conditions I can probably get you on some fish. We're at least moving a couple on every trip.

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, Streamer Swinger, 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.

December Hardtails in Southern New England

 Now you might be thinking I'm nuts based on that title, but it's true. Long after the last little tunny has left and the hopes and prayers for those mythical late season bonito have come up empty, a well kept, small scale hardtail bite manifests as winter begins. Old timers may talk about mackerel fishing in Long Island sound in the good old days, and though there is nothing like that apparently was- nor much of the wild late season fishing that could be had back then -there are still some Atlantic mackerel to be caught. Spurred on by whispers and a long held desire to figure out this very infrequently discussed bite, I went out mostly blind with a 5wt and small flashy streamers. 

I've caught Atlantic mackerel many times in Maine, where they are present for most of the warm season in huge numbers. I'd also seen them in Massachusetts, but more as a baitfish than a target. I'd never seen one South of the Cape. Though these fish are pretty small compared to bonito or tunny, I welcomed the idea of catching a scombrid of any kind in a month when saltwater fishing is getting less and less diverse by the day. December signals the end of the fall abundance and species diversity as the water cools rapidly. But mackerel like this cold water, and that's exactly when they come around. Most of the time they are caught incidentally by folks fishing for herring. I couldn't be sure they were very targetable, but I liked the idea and was willing to risk skunking. 

On my first attempt, skunking was exactly what I did. I ruled out some tides and times though, at least for one spot that looked like it had potential, and in one location I did watch people catch some herring and mackerel. The very next day I came back much earlier. The first spot was basically a dud, though I had a fish swirl on my fly at the end of one retrieve and on other brief hookup. I remained hopeful on the short drive to stop number two. There, I found exactly what I was looking for.

I must say I was almost surprised to catch one at all, even though I'd combed through what little information was available and poured over the maps for days prior. It felt like a wild goose chase, but there I was holding the goose. Many more came over the next few hours, and I felt pretty good about myself, especially since I was far from the only one fishing that spot and I was doing much better than anyone else there at the time. It does feel good, being the only one in a lineup with a fly rod and putting more meat in the bucket than anyone else. 

And yes, I was putting meat in the bucket. Mackerel are wonderful table fare and plenty abundant, so I wanted to take advantage of this opportunity to try a new fish. When I was catching them sometimes two at a time, it was quite a good opportunity indeed. 

Small though Atlantic mackerel may be, they still have that hardtail spirit. They pull really well, doing nice little runs and circling once brought in close just like their larger cousins. They don't have the weight to put on a big screaming run, but they makeup for that with an unwillingness to quit. They're excellent light tackle fodder. 

I ended up with a pretty nice pile of them that day. When I got home and started processing them I found that the only baitfish they had in their stomach was juvenile menhaden. I'd expected small sand eels or even silversides, but there are indeed lots of peanuts still lingering around southern New England. The odds of encountering stripers chowing on them are still pretty good as I write this on December 12th. IF you know where to look...

I've been making regular trips for mackerel over the first weeks of December and will be continuing to as winter rolls along. It's become a short-term obsession. They're fun little fish, and I enjoy how obscure this bite is. Oh, and they were absolutely delicious. 

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, Streamer Swinger, 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.

Local Brookies and my First Virtual Fly Fishing Class

 Back when there were still plenty of leaves on the trees and a warmth to the air strong enough to bring a fair number of snakes out, I finished a day of timber rattlesnake surveys by knocking on the door at a few local brook trout haunts I hadn't fished in a while. My idea was simple: I'd fish a stream until I caught one brookie, then move to another, and repeat the process until it was dinner time. 

I started out just down the road from a survey site. The flows were better than I've seen some years but the water was still crystal clear, putting the fish on guard. I sneaked around carefully and stripped a very simple stream down the pools, hoping to tempt an aggressive post-spawn male. That's not really what I got, but I couldn't help but admire the fortitude of this little brook trout parr. 

The second stream gave up its bounty far more rapidly and the fish was a bit more impressive. Well, it was bigger. It may not actually have been impressive in stature at all, but it was a native brook trout and any native rook trout is a thing to behold. 

Stream number three was much less inclined to give up its bounty, which was a surprise as I typically can get a dozen or so brookies there with little or now effort. I had to work for it this time. I managed to stick with the same fly though, which was cool. Three different streams within 15 minutes of my house, three wild brook trout, all on a goofy micro streamer that I actually tied for use in saltwater. 

As time progresses and I devote the days I can fish from sun-up to sun-down on other fisheries, I find myself being satisfied with a small number of brook trout from a short outing. I also fondly remember all that time I spent perusing over maps, biking as much as 60 miles in a day, and bushwacking as many small streams as I could throughout the year. My teenage fly fishing years were a lot of fun, and certainly, sometimes, I get the urge to do that sort of thing again. But I've moved on to other things. Not even bigger and better, necessarily- just different. Brook trout are just as special as they ever were, I just don't feel the obsessive urge to fish hard for them as much. That's probably good for them, and me. 

On an entirely different note, I've decided to setup my first online fly fishing class. It will occur next Friday, December 17th, at 7:00 pm. The class will run 35-45 minutes with time for questions afterward. It is titled "Flies For Night Fishing Trout" and will cover the best flies to utilize in night fishing, the best seasons and conditions to use them, and how those flies should be fished. The class will be held through Google meets, $15 per participant payable through paypal (brwntroutangler@gmail.com) or venmo (@Rowan-Lytle). The event link will be sent to you upon receiving the payment, so please include your email address in a note. Patreon supporters get $5 off. I hope to see a bunch of you there, and this will be the first of a good many classes as long as this one does reasonably well.

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, Streamer Swinger, 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.

Guide Trip Reports

 The day after Thanksgiving I had Trish and her father out for a Rhode Island trout trip. The conditions were pretty good to get fish to chew, though I'd found the late season to be a bit difficult on these waters. The flow was just where I like it, and with cloud cover to help improve the bite I figured we'd have a good shot. Our best bite window ended up happening late in the day when the water temperature peaked; not at all atypical in the late season. Trish hooked two very nice rainbows, one of which got the slip, and a stunning wild native brook trout. The Ausable Ugly got all the action. Thank you, Rich Garfield!

Only one client jumped on my Black Friday deal for a broodstock Atlantic salmon trip! Mike got a pretty day for early December, but the wind was howling. We powered through it and were able to effectively cover water. I had him fish a Butterfly, a Sugarman Shrimp, an Ally's Shrimp, a Mickey Finn, and a Sunray Shadow.  Why all the fly changes? Well, we moved a whole bunch of finicky salmon. Unfortunately those salmon were shy to come back, even with resting and fly changes, and only a couple actually made contact at all. Despite the fact that we didn't get a salmon to hand, Mike left the trip with a new set of strategies and a better understanding of where salmon might hold in a river. I was just glad to have a client move a bunch of fish on the first trip I've guided for broodstock salmon. 

Yesterday, my client Brian and I had the perfect December day for small stream fishing. He wanted to focus on reading water, so I took him to a varied and typical CT freestone and a smaller brook trout stream. I did my best to impart as much of my small stream holding water knowledge and how to approach it, and in the process Brian caught a whole pile of beautiful little wild brown trout and brookies, with a holdover rainbow in the mix as well.

So far it's been a great late salmonid season! I've got tons of open dates and the long term forecast shows a lot of very mild weather ahead, so whether you're interested in broodstock salmon or trout there is a lot of opportunity coming up. Shoot me an email at brwntroutangler@gmail.com to book a trip!

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, Streamer Swinger, 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.

Late Season River Multi-species Fishing

 As water temperatures plummet in November, fish are both on the move and slowing down. They are on the move because the need to be in very different water for the winter than they were just in all summer, and slowing down because as cold blooded animals their metabolism slows when it gets cold. This results in some interesting challenges for an angler trying to catch these fish. It can also create some great fishing, because the fish's feeding drive may be just a bit slower but they often pile up in staging areas and then in their wintering holes. 

The fish species I'm really talking about here are fallfish, bass, sunfish, and perch. The late fall and early spring transitional period are, quite honestly, some of the best time windows I've found for loading up large numbers of these fish and often some trophy sized specimens. This year I was presented with the challenge of finding these fish in staging areas on new water, the same general area I've fished all summer in Rhode Island for carp. Because I'd been so focused on carp, I let a lot slide and missed chances to better figure out bites with some other species. Come November, catching would be more difficult simply because fish would be in fewer places and actively feeding less often. 

I knew the sorts of spots that should be holding fish though from past experience on other watersheds. I used google maps and pinned every spot that looked like it had potential, from in-flowing creeks and canals to backwaters and large eddies. Some would clearly be difficult to access, so I started out with the one closest to home that I knew would be publicly accessible. I fished it first in low pressure during a big storm, with a simple "float n' fly" tactic. My leader was 8 feet long, tapered to 0x, with a small Thingamabobber and a micro streamer. Often, when water temperatures are falling, any retrieve is too much retrieve. Think effective ice fishing tactics: you want a fly to be basically in place, maybe with a little bit of jigging action, but barely moving horizontally at all. 

I hit it right with the first spot, which was excellent. It wasn't crazy. The fish were neither huge nor especially numerous, but they were there and I could catch them; that's half the battle. 

Over the next week or two I poked around new spots and revisited the first with mixed results. For a while, that first place seemed incredibly consistent until in one 24 window it went from fantastic, with a three perch and ten bluegill outing being followed the very next afternoon by a complete skunking. All that changed in that time frame was a three inch river drop and a 2 degree temperature drop. That's often all it takes for fish to move on from a staging area to a wintering hole.

Some of the other spots that produced fish were more typical fallfish or sucker late fall holes, though I squeaked the odd yellow perch out of them too. That was cool, as I'm not especially used to catching yellow perch out of anything other than near-still or still water this late in the year. Pulling them up on an indicator rig from the sort of water that would be holding brown trout in a cold-water fishery was actually pretty cool. There were fallfish in all the right spots too. No monsters, but lovely specimens with typical late fall coloration. 

Inevitably these spots started to falter to as the temperature dropped even further. I've now shifted focus to other fisheries anyway, but when I get back to this river I'll need to learn another set of conditions entirely. It'll continue to be an interesting challenge. 

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, Streamer Swinger, 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.