I fish because I am deeply fascinated by fish, the things fish do, and the places they live. Fly fishing is my window into that world. Most of what fish do involves eating, so a practice that involves trying to get fish to eat something artificial is a great way to learn about fish if done in the right way with the right intentions. But fish do have to do a few things other than eating, one of them being reproduction. In October and early November in CT, wild brook trout spawn. They do so mostly in shallow, gravelly riffles and tailout, and in their haste to make babies, they often become quite easy to approach and observe. I've found that in these times, not only am I morally obliged not to fish to spawning native salmonids, but I have no need to. I can watch. I don't need to catch to learn.
I have fished to a variety of species during their spawn, and I will continue to when I encounter new scenarios in the future, but I know what happens when you drop a fly on a trout redd. It's not mysterious, and a trout caught on a redd is not an impressive or skillful capture. It is indeed a destructive capture. But in mid to late October, I visit some of the most densely populated brook trout streams I know of specifically to observe spawning. I may indeed fish parts of these streams. But if I think there is even a slight chance that there could be trout setting up a redd or already on one in a piece of water, I don't step in it, I don't cast in it, and I take my time approaching low and slow to see what might be occurring in that water. If there are fish spawning, I'll sit and watch. Sometimes as much as an hour. I highly recommend it. The things I've seen doing this have changed how I think about brook trout.
In some of these streams, so many redds are packed into such tight quarters that the boundaries become muddled and the competition between fish gets extremely fierce. Communal redds can look like they were made by one huge female, but may actually hold as many as a dozen male-female pairs.
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| A communal redd that had 4 pairs of brook trout on it before I walked up to take this photo. |
Often, where there aren't communal redds, there are redd communities or even what I call redd cities. Instead of the lines being blurred between redds in a small piece of good gravel, dozens of redds are scattered through a stretch of stream where the ideal characteristics are present. I sneaked up to one such redd community and watched for half an hour. Often, some of the fish that have just started or just finished up spawning are the spookiest there, also the biggest fish. And whether they see you or not some fish will spook off their redds from feeling or hearing your approach. Sitting perfectly still for as long as will and comfort allows will give those fish time to come out of hiding. While I sat and watched this redd city, more and more fish revealed themselves. Many males fought in this section, jockeying for position behind the females. At times a more dominant male would bite a saller one right in the midsection and push it off the redd. I've seen the wounds this causes many times. Eventually, I watched a brook trout every bit of 18 inches fall back downstream and settle in behind his chosen partner, a solid 14 inch female. I tried to photograph this tremendous pair, but the reflections, lighting, and angle were not cooperative. Neither were the fish when I attempted a new position, so I decided to back off away from the redds and fish the pool below. Not every trout will spawn, at the same time or at all, in a given season. Especially in streams with population densities as strong as this one, many will preoccupy themselves with eating the eggs of their fellow brook trout. Fishing downstream of redded up fish with egg patterns is nearly always productive. Sculpins, suckers, and darters also seek out trout eggs, in bigger rivers a two fly rig with an egg and a small streamer is deadly below spawning trout. In this stream I saw numerous tiny slimy sculpin below each group of spawning brookies.
And of course some fish will just continue doing exactly the sort of things they would have done if the spawning wasn't happening at all. This stunning big female was rising steadily on station, and an Irresistible Adams fooled her.
After catching a few fish I was happy with that and went about looking for spawning brook trout I could photograph. It didn't take long to find them, though it did take some time belly crawling to get close enough to get good shots. I picked up a few ticks, but it payed off.
In the next sequence of three photos, the largest individual of this group, a 12 inch male, kicks and dumps some of his milt. He isn't actually over a redd, so I'm not quite sure what he ha doing, maybe hoping to get some of his milt into redds downstream on the off chance he can fertilize eggs from females he isn't going to partner with? A very interesting behavior, regardless of purpose.
Brookies and brown trout have been on redds for the last few weeks. They'll be on them for a few more. And then it won't be until February that alevins emerge from the gravel. So keep a look out for redds now, and try to remember where they are so you can avoid wading over them for the next few months. Also keep and mind that eggs are spread for a few feet or more downstream of the cleared gravel patch, so wading above a redd is much better than wading below it. Better yet, don't wade across gravelly pool tail outs at all until March.
Until next time.
Fish for the love of fish.
Fish for the love of places fish live.
Fish for you.
Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, john, Elizabeth, Chris, Brandon, and Christopher, for supporting this blog on Patreon.
