Like I said, I was a little nervous that our fly rods-only policy might blow up in our faces, and it was going to be a long hard day of scraping a few fish here and there. But not long after we got in the water Scott hooked up, and announced it on the walkie. Now I knew flies worked, but would my flies work? It didn't take much longer for a wave of relief to come over as I felt the first subtle take. A large mouth bass. I got the fish to the tube and Scott was getting his camera ready, but the fly came out of the fish before I got him out of the water. Strangely though, the bass stayed right there, at the surface, with its mouth hanging open, so I reached down and lipped him. It was like he was saying "Come on, Buddy, work with me here, I can't photograph myself". I'll add more pics when I get them from Scott. He was a small bass, but it was the first of many.
From then on we worked whatever structure we found, often for numerous fish off the same spot - even bass and bluegill from the same spot. We cast as near into coverage as we could, taking away some lessons learned fishing saltwater bass with conventional bass gear. Often though the fish would strike well away from shore, making me wish my sink-tip line arrived on Tuesday, instead of tomorrow. In fact, later in the day, letting the flies sink, then a slow retrieve is what drew the bites.
Once it got going, and I'd move a little ahead of Scott in numbers, just a little, I had to get out of my tube to relieve my bladder. The bite was heatin' up, and the sound of fish breaking the surface was constant. I was kicking towards the spot where we were let off the boat, and as I was reeling in my line a bluegill took my fly. I laughed, showed Scott, and got out to leak. Then as I was getting back in my tube, and kicking out I let out some line, and not 5 feet from shore, another bluegill took my fly. Scott was beside himself. But after that it was fish-on, pretty steadily for the rest of the day.
Barrett Lake is very secluded, and the area we fished in the morning was beautiful, and wild, and after the 3 guys who were there when we got there left, we didn't see anyone else until Mick and Joe came to pick us up for lunch. I was a little surprised by how few water birds were around. Even relatively tiny Upper Otay Lake is inundated with ducks, coots, herons, and terns. But there weren't any noticeable water birds at Barrett. We saw a mating pair of mallard ducks in the afternoon, and a blue heron flying overhead late in the morning. But all day long turkey vultures wheeled high above, and swooped low through the contures of the hillsides. Sometimes they'd repeatedly swoop low into a cove where we were fishing, so that you could hear the wind rustle their wing feathers. They are very impressive in their size and grace. Occasionally we'd see a hawk up high, or perched on a branch. I kept hearing the unmistakable call of a loon in the distance. I'd never actually seen or heard a loon, except on TV, but the call is distinct. When Mick was hauling our asses back to the docks for lunch we saw the loon floating near us on the lake, but it dove when it saw us. We even heard the obvious rapid-fire knocking of a woodpecker a few times. Wildflowers were in bloom everywhere, and my botany courses in college still keep me interested in spring blooms. Once the clouds dispersed, it was a truly beautiful day to be fishing. I wish my camera was able to capture some of the birds and landscape a little better. On the other hand, I could try to take more time to stop fishing and take more pictures.
I used my newish Beulah 4 wt. most of the day. In fact I never caught any fish on my 6 wt. The 4 wt. made the bluegill more fun, and the bass real fun. Not to mention the Beulah is only 8 ft long, so it's a little easier to land fish from a tube. My two larger bass pulled so hard, I thought they'd break off, so I got them on the reel to let them wear themselves out on the reel's drag. Both times I hooked one of the larger fish I kicked away from shore to keep them from wrapping in branches and let them run around in the deeper water to tire a little. I lost a few bass throughout the day when they leapt out of the water and threw the barbless hooks.
Scott and I decided to launch our tubes near the dock after lunch so we could kick in when we felt like it and leave if we got worn out. We'd already been in the water for around seven hours, and the last "train" out was still 7 hours off. We made a loose plan of attack which was quickly scuttled when a father and son in a boat anticipated our path and cut off our route before we could kick over there. Bass fishing is weird and competitive that way, but I couldn't really blame the guy, 60 bucks to go fishing with the kid isn't cheap, and if they were fishing near the dock, they couldn't have been doing well. That lake is huge. It wasn't even until I got home and looked up the lake on Google Earth, that I realized that what I hadn't seen of the lake was more than twice as large as what I did see. Anyway, we kicked straight parallel to the dam from the docks and started fishing the steep wall to the left of the dam. By then the wind was blowing pretty hard, and in a float tube it's best to have the wind at your back so you can keep position by slowly kicking your fins. So the shoreline we were fishing worked out great.
Again the fear set in. The fear that somehow we wouldn't be able to catch any more fish. And for a while, for me, it was warranted. As usual, Scott got the first fish of the post-lunch session, making the fear more substantial. Fortunately it only took a few minutes to get my first afternoon fish. But while Scott settled into a ridiculously prolific hole where pulled bluegill out by the dozen, a hole I'd failed to pull anything out of, it took me quite a while to find even my second fish. Off to my right I kept an eye on Scott as he camped on that spot and just harvested fish after fish, and I was desperately trying to find my second. Eventually, I pulled another bluegill out of some grass. Then a small bass. But it wasn't until I calmed down a little, slowed my retrieve, and let the fly sink a little deeper did I settle in to a more steady bite. One cast I put right at the edge of a grass bed, which was one the edge of a drop-off, I let sink for a bit longer than usual. When I finally regained contact with the fly there was already something heavy pulling on the other end. I immediately pulled the line taught, and started kicking for deep water. This was clearly a large bass, that was obvious before the fish surfaced the first time. I hurriedly reeled in the line that was laying in my striping apron, and floating in the water, and got the fish on the reel. Which is a little scary because it means I wasn't necessarily keeping as much pressure on the fish as I should have been. But once the loose line was wound onto the reel, I let the fish wear itself out a little. Scott was too far away to yell at in the wind. So once the fish got tired and I hoisted him onto the apron, I snapped some pics and put him back in the water, swished him back and forth a little to oxygenate him a little and he quickly shot away. It was truly a day-making fish. And it was but 45 more minutes before we decided to kick in, so we wouldn't have to rush to catch the 6 o'clock train out.
All in all, well worth the loss of sleep and the next-day soreness for some fun and steady fishing, hanging out with Scott, enjoying a beautiful place, and not going to work.
Posts
0 comments:
Post a Comment