Figments

 The wall seems all that much longer on hot summer days. The sun beats down, making me sweat, and the wind dries that sweat right away. The two conspire to suck the moisture clean out of the weary anglers very skin. Guzzling water is the only thing that staves off possible disaster. When the tide is down the best move is often to go all the way to the end. That's almost a mile- completely exposed, no shade, no cover at all. Going halfway sucks. Going all the way feels stupid; especially in this early season when the fish might not even be there. 

The fish are bonito. Atlantic bonito arrive earlier in the summer, often August but sometimes July. More ethereal than little tunny are these days, there's even less assurance that there will be good numbers of bonito any given year. There could easily be very few, there could be hundreds. The good news in my experience is that they will eat pretty readily most of the time if they are there. It may take minor presentation adjustments, but bonito will take bigger flies, often a little more impressionistic ones, sometimes the feeds are a bit more sustained. I've seen a small bonito eat a 6 inch long Deceiver. They have substantial teeth, which they seem to use to chop up somewhat larger baitfish. Well, they seem easy when they're around. But if they aren't around....

Some days the chop on the water serves to conceal signs of life. That chop also often makes the fish stupid easy. That's always been true of tunny for me, and I think bonito as well. It makes it hard to see them though, and when there's big question as to their presence or absence that causes a lack of confidence. This day the chop and swell are significant, I really can't tell if fish are breaking at all. Maybe they are, maybe they're hiding behind the swell. Maybe some of those white caps are actually bonito cresting over the waves. Probably not though. Could I effectively fish I'd be able to answer that question, but there's a thick line of weeds that prevents me from getting a fly through the water clean. Bits of reddish brown gunk cling to it after each cast. This may just be a waste of time. 

Bored yet stubborn, I wait for some sign of life. I sit on the rocks, scanning. Birds cruise by, also scanning. I always wonder how the chop and breakers effect their ability to find fish. I'm sure less so than it does me, but I've watched them lose track of the fish plenty of times. They have an especially hard time with hardtails. Out of the corner of my eye I catch something. A break maybe? I can't be sure. My mind plays tricks on me when it's like this and I've been out for hours, just waiting. 

It does get better when I can actively fish. I don't have a heavy sink tip with me this time which negates the possibility of dredging g deep and picking up some seabass, scup or fluke. I try to let my intermediate get deep but that just isn't what it's made for. All there is to pass the time is watching boats. I observe how they're fishing. Everyone today seems to be drifting and jigging. Nobody is chasing birds. I don't think any of the boats are targeting the fish I'm after. I still watch, seeing if some devote significant time to drifts I've not fished. I don't know what they're after, fluke or scup probably. I take note regardless. Maybe some know something I don't. It's always worth paying attention to those things. 

Suddenly, there, near the fish trap... that was a fish, it had to be. I train my eyes on the area, watching intensely and squinting through the glare. I'm sure that was a fish, but will it show again? After some time passes I scan further from where I spotted the break. It can't be that close to where it was by now. Is there the slightest but of hope that I'll see it again? Not a prayer. It has vanished into the sea, a mere figment of my imagination. I don't think it even was a bonito after all. 

Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, John, Elizabeth, Brandon, Christopher, Shawn, Mike, Sara, Leo, Franky, Geof, Luke, Noah, Justin, Sean, Tom, Mark, and Jake 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.

Stripering the Beach Front

 I spent a number of days wandering the ocean front in Southern Rhode Island in late October and early November. This is a time when there's often a lot of small bait moving along the beach, with bass, blues and sometimes bonito on its heals. This year, there were also some little tunny making very late appearances in Rhode Island. I didn't have any clients book trips this fall for surf fishing, which was disappointing on one hand but meant a lot of no-pressure days for me. I did a lot of sitting, quite a bit of walking, and a lot of fishing with my camera instead of my fly rod. 

One day, I was walking around a rocky bit of shoreline little tunny and bonito are known to haunt. Little tunny were around in decent numbers, but the water was slicked out and they were being very fickle. I spent most of my time trying to predict their travel lines and get good shots. I though I did a couple times but my fly drew no interest. At least not from the tunny. 

As I was watching a big school of tunny going wild way out of casting range, something moving tight to the rocks caught my attention. It was a bass, and a decent one at that. I brought my EP Minnow in front of its face and the fish obliged. It was a wonderfully visual eat and a beautiful 29 inch fish.

That filled my cup for that day, but a week or two later I was out again, this time on the sand beaches late in the day. There were blitzing schoolies and fish cruising the wash, but the headliner wasn't the fish at all.

In fact, on quite a few nights I fished this year it was the sunset that as the headliner. Not a skunk-set, I caught more fish than I'd need to to be satisfied.  The sunsets were just so striking, so awe inspiring, and so overt that all else paled in comparison. I love it when the sky catches on fire. 

I did capture one particularly memorable blitz though It wasn't a huge or prolonged one, but I was standing in the right place on the beach at the exact right time with good lighting to capture striped bass churning the water to a froth and bay anchovies frantically darting in the wash. While the surf junkies frantically cast into the melee I stood, rod tucked in my armpit, camera in hand, with a big shit eating grin on my face. This is what keeps me alive and happy.

I caught a fair few bass that day, though I never bothered to take a picture of one nor did I keep track. I chuckled, listening to a few of the casters behind me talking numbers (completely oblivious to the pod of little tunny that had just come into their casting range, no less). I sometimes think I should carry a fish counter, exclusively for data collection purposes. I don't know that I'd share the numbers I was catching though. That isn't the measure of a good day. When I go walking the beach in the fall, I don't care how many stripers I catch as long as I get to pull on a few. I'm really just there to watch the show. 

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.

Surprise Rhode Island Northern Pike

 November 12th was one of those horribly unpleasant weather days to fish in, featuring high wind and very heavy rain over most of Connecticut and Rhode Island. It was at least vaguely warm though, and it was the sort of weather that gets predatory fish fired up. Subsequently, I was going to fish. I didn't want to fish for very long or far from my partner's apartment, so I drove less than five minutes away to a spot that I knew had potential but hadn't fished before. I didn't really know what to expect but it was exactly the sort of spot fish will stack up at in late fall during high water: a big slack water with reasonable depth, just off the main river. Most of the food chain utilizes these spots, from macroinvertebrates, to small shiners and dace, to panfish, bass and larger predator fish. 

The water was high and cold; I struggled a lot last season to get fish in this same river around this time of year. I'd not yet dialed in many areas though, and I'm still doing a lot of exploring and learning here. It was a crap-shoot, this spot, and though it appeared textbook, I wasn't sure I'd catch anything. I started out simple, hopping very small jig streamers along the bottom. This served two purposes. Flies like this catch everything from suckers and panfish to trout and bass, so it would give me a good idea off what was present (if anything). It also served as a way to feel out the bottom contours and find snags or hidden structure. That inevitably meant flies were lost, but that's just part of the game. I did start picking up fish. First, some pretty yellow perch. Nothing huge but nice to see and great to get the skunk off with. Then, a few good bluegills, and a roughly 2 pound smallmouth that I lost. That stung a little as larger smallmouth are pretty rare in this river and that was the largest I'd hooked here. 

I eventually decided to tie on a larger streamer, namely a conehead Marabou Muddler, and try to tempt a larger predator. This did not go the way I expected it to when, merely three casts later, the fly was smashed to rod lengths from me by a northern pike, and not a small one either. I didn't know there were even pike in the watershed so I was taken completely by surprise. I hooked it, but immediately was sure I'd lose the fish. I was using 10lb tippet and I'd seen the take; there seemed little hope my fly was pinned at the tip of the snout or somewhere else that would make a landing possible. I felt a bite-off was inevitable. Miraculously that never happened. I actually landed the fish. I was giddy. I hadn't targeted pike much at all this season, and with the exception of the one lone big one I got early in the season, hadn't encountered many of this species in 2021. To get one five minutes from the apartment in a watershed I didn't know had them during just atrocious weather was awesome- let alone on a 5wt and 10lb tippet. The fish was snub-nosed, which was a big factor in why I was able to land it. It was very healthy in terms of bulk and energy though. 

I stuck it out for a little while longer with only a few more perch, but I was sure the fight with the pike had disturbed the spot a lot. I left soaked to the bone and happy as can be, with a new task to latch onto- find even more pike in Rhode Island. Up until then I'd only heard about one body of water within the state that had any. Since then I've done quite a bit of research and scouting though and have half a mind to put in a solid effort to dial in some bites over here. It's funny how much one fish can change your mindset sometimes. 

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

Take A Moment

 A little while ago I was on my way to a fishing spot when I came upon this incredible flock of swallows. Despite having just felt an urgent need to get out on the water as quickly as possible I suddenly was compelled to stay right where I was and just watch the show. I pulled off the road, got out, climbed up onto the roof, and sat for a while watching something miraculous. 

Remember to take a moment the next time you're out fishing. Lean the rod up, take off your sling pack off for a moment, and watch something cool happen without interrupting it. Every day I'm out something wild happens, I just don't always pause to take it in. I ought to.

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.

Sight Fishing False Albacore

Little tunny seem to move so rapidly most of the time that sight fishing for them would be next to impossible. However, when their behavior lines up with the right conditions it is in fact possible. Slower cruising fish and the right lighting and it is possible to snipe cruising tunny. I've only hit the right conditions once, and it was this season. It was one of the coolest days I've had fishing for scombrids, though the bite window lasted a mere 20 minutes. For that short time, there were dark clouds in front of me and clear skies behind with the sun right at my back, lighting up the water with exceptional contrast. The tunny were running predictable routes and would break sporadically, but the best shot happened when I could see the fish coming in the water, big pods of 20-30 fish, lit up green and blue in the water. 

I was fishing a white and pink Tabory Snake Fly, hoping I could continue to experiment with that the big, erratic fly strategy. I'd see the fish coming, lay the fly out, and strip it quickly as they approached. I got positive reactions each time, but the fish seemed to have a difficult time engulfing that big deer hair headed fly. The first two that grabbed did so abruptly, peeling away from their pods and side swiping the fly. Neither got steel. The third one did though, and it was such a spectacular and visible take- the best tunny take I've ever had. 

Unlike the previous fish I'd had this one actually was exciting. It felt good in some way other than just exhausted relief. Even better, that joy wasn't taken away by the fish breaking off or coming unbuttoned. Instead it very politely came to hand. 

When I got the fish in I could see that it was light up blue, which made for beautiful photography. However it also had severe abrasions from getting stuck in a net, which didn't. The abrasions were interesting because I've often worried about line burns on released tunny. They don't have thick scales or protective slime the way a lot of fish do and this leaves them vulnerable to infections. Very simply, little tunny evolved to be pelagic and fast, and fast pelagic fish don't naturally get abrasions very often. There's no reason for them to have a mechanism for fighting off the side effects of abrasions. This fish made me a little less concerned about it outright killing them. 

Regrettably I didn't manage to make good on any more shots that day but that fish was worth the price of admission. As tunny season wore on, I'd have some more shots in very different circumstances. It kept me entertained despite the overall slow nature of this year's fishing. There have been some big showing but overall it has been very sparse aside from a handful of windows and pockets of concentrated activity. It has been a long season. It's November and they're still here. And I'm still after the damn things.

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.

The Mirrors of Autumn

 The fly carp season is winding down. Sure, there'll be some late fall and winter bite windows, but on the whole things are coming to a close. It was a very good year for me. I got a lot of fish, my first mirror and then dozens upon dozens more, the most carp I've ever caught in a single day, my first periodical cicada carp, my first mulberry carp, and two top ten biggest carp. I'm going to go ahead and call it my best carp year since I started fishing for these things seven years ago.

Will watching my best season wind, I spent some time walking and casting to small mirrors and commons. Though the mulberries were months gone I still managed to get a handful of fish to come up for the dry. That was one of the coolest discoveries of my fishing career; getting carp, even tailing carp in as much as three feet of water, to come up for a berry pattern. I still haven't applied this method on a waterway that doesn't have mulberry trees, but I will be doing that next season. 

One evening I was battling waning light and mosquitoes and struggling to get looks from the fish. I was also dealing with walkers throwing rocks in the canal... oh, the joys of fishing high foot traffic areas. I was running out of real estate when I found a shallow tailer on the far bank. I made a kick ass cast and the fish turned to find the fly. It didn't seem to see it, so I stripped it. This sounds absurd, I know, berries don't dart across the surface. But for some reason it works. The fish charged hard and ate. Rarely is a hook set as satisfying when a cast with a dry fly to a carp is so well executed and the fish eats just as perfectly and beautifully as you could want. So, so satisfying. And of course the fish responded fabulously with some thrashing on the surface and a good hard run. It was excellent.

 When I didn't get fish to react to dry flies, I was still able to get them on the good old Ausable Ugly. Honestly those hook sets might be just as satisfying. A carp on the fly is a carp on the fly. They don't come easy most of the time. Each one is a result of hard work and hours of observations. 

Most of my clients this season wanted to carp fish. I only ran a very small handful of trips for other species. From the get-go, I knew it was going to be the trickiest fish for me to get clients onto consistently and that proved very true. Some of the worst conditions of the year also happened to set up right on the days I was booked, which didn't help, leading me to take a couple clients out for discounted redemption trips when they didn't even get a single good shot on their first trips. I have to say thanks to those of you that booked me this carp season. If anyone is interested in learning the ropes of late fall or winter carp fishing, feel free to contact me, but such a trip needs to be planned in accordance with a weather window, so if you don't have flexibility I don't want to waste your time. Hopefully I'll see some of you next season, it' going to be a good one. 

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.

Black Seabass on the Fly

 As my tunny season continued to be a grind, I started seeking other species to fill in my time on the rocks. I generally don't enjoy the process of catching tunny and bonito from shore. I do get to see some cool things, but it's a lot of standing around on the same rock all day waiting for something to happen. It helps to be able to catch some sort of fish from that rock, and early in the tunny season one of the most readily available species is black seabass. Black seabass, Centropristis striata, belong to the family Serranidae. This family includes groupers and anthias, and black seabass are certainly the most grouper like fish present in New England aside from the occasional visiting actual black grouper that swirls in on an eddy of the Gulf Stream. The genus includes four other species that are generally smaller and rarely encountered by anglers. Black seabass are considered by many anglers in the Northeast to be a very delicious fish, and I have to agree. They're also a fun fish to catch on a fly rod, something people don't intentionally do very often. When I'm standing on a jetty waiting for tunny that probably won't eat my fly anyway, It's a fantastic relief to have some seabass around that are willing to chew on a fly.

One morning there were seabass and chub mackerel feeding on peanut bunker at the surface along one stretch of the jetty. Generally I need a sink tip line to get flies down to the seabass, but I've encountered a handful of surface feeds over the years and this one provided some of the largest fish. Other fly anglers were catching big back seabass even on intermediate lines with a fast two hand retrieve. It was an impressive show of what can happen when the conditions line up right. I've encountered a number of "bottom fish" not being bottom fish at all when enough bait is present. Seabass and different scombrids feeding near-surface are actually a pretty common theme. On the Cape I've seen seabass breaking alongside king mackerel, in Connecticut I've found them right in tunny feeds. Now in Rhode Island I was finding them alongside chub mackerel. 

The next time around there were no surface antics, but there were still loads of seabass. I utilized a sink tip, small flies, and count-down tactics to catch the fish. When fishing a jetty with a fly rod for fluke, scup, seabass, or tautog, knowing how to run a fly deep without hanging up constantly is key. The angler should know the sink rate of their line and the depth of the water. It is also important to know the contour of the jetty, which depends heavily on it's age, location, and construction. Old jetties break up in big storms, and the jumble of rocks create a sloping contour, while some well maintained and carefully built jetties drop off more steeply. The inside edge of  the Rockland Breakwater in Maine is almost vertical compared to the Scusset Beach Jetty at the east end of the Cape Cod Canal. That determines how what line you need to use and how you fish these places. 

I find that erring on the lighter side with your line is often a good idea, and if you are struggling to find bottom simply add split shot. I know this isn't something people think about in salt water fly fishing, but I like breaking new ground. Strategically targeting scup, fluke, tautog, and seabass on the fly isn't exactly the most well trodden topic. Retrieving should be fast enough to keep the fly and line from hanging up but slow enough to keep it within a foot or two of the bottom.

Getting keeper size black seabass from the shore seems to be a very tricky thing to do. I've only gotten a handful of legal sized fish from the rocks and only in one location. That said, I haven't put too much effort into patterning them... yet. It is something I intend to do. It is certainly fun to catch them when I'm waiting around for unwilling tunny but the way to really catch a fish is to focus on it. Of course it could be said that my being distracted from tunny by black seabass prevented me from catching my target, but when there simply aren't any of your target fish in casting range what's the point of standing around without a line in the water when different perfectly willing fish are right in front of 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.

False Albacore Fly Woes: Bigeye Scad

 

Time for yet another day with tunny around and me not catching. Yeah, this was day six. My sixth day with tunny around and no tunny to show for it. This time the conditions felt a bit better and there was at least bait present, though no he ideal bait. Peanut bunker are only the ideal bait if the tunny actually eat them, and I've only seen it happen a handful of times. It seems to be far more common on the south side of the Cape and around the Elizabeth Islands. Maybe the size of the peanuts varies as one go up the coast and the Connecticut and Rhode Island peanuts are bigger and less appealing to the tunny when they get here. What was strange though was how willing the chub mackerel seemed to be to pick of a peanut. I dragged flies below the bait and picked off the first chub mackerel of the year- very late compared to the last four. I was using a 12 weight though and the fights were subpar. 

It's a bit regrettable that I'd still yet to get even a bonito, Spanish mackerel, or frigate before I got those chubs, but at least a scombrid had found it's way to my fly. 2021 had shaped up to be an odd year. 

As the morning progressed so did my frustration as I watched a couple of casters pick off tunny on epoxy jigs. There just wasn't anything for it, I could get my fly to the lane the fish were running but I could pull it through it and that's what really matters. Confounded by some of the same line twist and tangling issues that had already plagued me this season, I started to consider giving up. Then I caught something interesting. 

Bigeye scad are most numerous in tropical regions around the world. There are a lot of species of scad, including yellowstripe scad, mackerel scad, and torpedo scad, but I'm primarily familiar with bigeye due to their presence on the East Coast. In Florida they're a commonly used bait species and called goggle-eye. It isn't unusual for some bigeye scad to wander up the Gulf Stream and end up in parts north. This year I'd seen a few examples from New Jersey. Now, I was holding one from Southern Rhode Island. It had latched onto the Surf Candy I was fishing, a fly not much shorter than it's own body length. Unknowingly it had put me just 15 fish away from #200 on my lifelist. Yup, another wandering tropical species proved that my tunny obsession was worthwhile despite the fact that I couldn't seem to catch a little tunny.

Lifelist Fish #185, Bigeye scad, Selar crumenophthalmus. 

With my first scad ever on the books, I was satisfied enough to stop torturing myself and walk back to the car. Well, it was really only a temporary cessation in torture. I'd be back in fruitless action 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, 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.

False Albacore Fly Woes: Lizardfish

 My third day targeting tunny I had limited time. I had a short window to fish before I needed to go to work. Fish were present- both bonito and tunny -right upon my arrival. The were feeding in very slick water, often a recipe for picky eaters. I felt I got a few shots the should have been seen but I'm not sure. 

I was fishing with a gartside gurgler. This often isn't pegged as a tunny or bonito fly but these fish love lures that skitter on the surface, so a fly that skitters on top is a logical choice. I've had days where a gurgler really saved me from skunking. Notably, back in 2017 when the tunny were actually numerous and widespread, one of my best days saw numerous tunny in slicked out conditions very willing to eat gurglers but not much else. 

Unfortunately this time my tricks didn't work, at leas not for tunny. What I did get, interestingly enough, was a new species. On one retrieve my fly came in with what initially seemed like weeds on it. Upon closer inspection it was actually a fish! Specifically, and inshore lizardfish. This is a species I've expected in Florida for years now, where they are abundant and at times considered a pest. Instead I'd caught my lifer on a gurgler in 10 feet of water in Connecticut... very strange. 

Lifelist fish #184, Inshore lizardfish, Synodus foetens. Rank: Species

Lizardfish aren't completely unfamiliar fish in the Northeast. They're known to occur in the same are I was fishing most years, though 2021 has certainly seen a relative abundance. Though aggressive lizardfish hunt from the bottom of the water column, as evidenced by their head structure and eye position. They are ambush predators that attack prey from below, concealed against a mud or sand bottom. Adults reach lengths over a foot, with females generally being larger than males. A lizardfish's mouth is full of small teeth, and I imagine being bitten by one would be a little unpleasant. They are  very cool little fish honestly and I wouldn't mind catching more of them.

I've ended up encountering lizardfish repeatedly this season, and that has been quite interesting. But for the third day I had to be content with a couple of them and simply watching the tunny and bonito slip by, unwilling to eat what I was presenting. It was starting to feel like I'd forgotten how to catch these fish, though it was still only the beginning. 

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.

False Albacore Fly Woes: Day 1

 Little tunny- more commonly but less correctly called false albacore -are one of the most coveted species for light tackle saltwater anglers in the northeast. They are as hard fighting a fish as you can tie into with your feet on dry ground. The're also very pretty. I caught my first tunny in 2016. Then I really hammered them with consistency in 2017. 2018 wasn't bad either. Then I didn't target them much at all through two very poor seasons in 2019 and 2020. I decided that 2021 would be different and have chose to target hardtails at ever opportunity. Welllll... it has not been good. Despite and early showing and quite a few days with good numbers of fish around, I've struggled to catch any. Some of it was poor timing, some of it was bad luck, some of it was me having m head up m own ass when fish actually showed in range. Whatever the story the first month of my tunny targeting went down painfully. This post is about the day it started. 

On August 27th I set out hopeful but uncertain of what to expect, Henri had hit Rhode Island just days prior and I knew there had been some albies caught near Fallmouth just prior to the storm. I hoped the storm had pushed them further west. When I started out, nothing was showing on the surface. I dragged the fly along the bottom hoping to pick up something not so fast while I waited to see some life. I did pick up some fish: small seabass and fluke. 

It went on like that for quite a while. Then, suddenly, at the bottom of the tide, there they were. The shining forms arcing into the air, the violent surface slashes... they were unmistakable. The tunny were here. With my heart beating out of my chest I set off in pursuit. 

Why running and gunning isn't effective

And that's where it all went south for me. The fish were cycling predictably and were feeding on good sized silversides. It was a good setup for success. I, however, had been forced to cast back handed most of the day and had developed some wicked line twist. Once you have severe line twist it's all over. Tangles just keep coming and they will happen the most right when you need them not to. I missed opportunity after opportunity due to the gobs of looped up fly line that constantly formed in my stripping basket. I tried to clean the line (I missed two schools that cam by during that) but it was hopeless. The first day of tunny time had been ruined. 

That turned out to be the beginning not only of the tunny season but many days of agonizing fishing for yours truly. 

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.