Tubing Barrett solo 8/3

In the spirit of honesty, this isn't the only fishing trip I've had since the 4th of July, so here's a quick update. Last Saturday, July 26, while preparing to fishing on Sunday, I got a wild hair, grabbed my bay bass fishing casting combo and headed to Silver Strand. Being a nice day, my usual spot was packed with people, so I chose a spot further south. To shorten the story, I picked up 3 spotted bay bass on 3-inch swimbaits. Not a bad evening.

This is just a photo of an "iceplant" I saw while fishing. You don't see it too often. That stuff on the side of the freeways is actually called sea fig.


Then I went home and finished preparing to meet my fishing buddies, Tom and Craig, for a trip out to the La Jolla kelp beds, on July 27. I could go on all day about how cool kelp bed fishing is - and I'm sure I have in one of these entries - but this post is about Barrett, so I'll just say it was a good day on the water, but I only got 2 fish - a "Johnny Bass" and a Calico Bass (the type in my avatar). I still enjoyed myself, and learned a lot. I'd never fished out there with fly gear and it was a learning experience. Tom and Craig, both had much better numbers than I did.

OK, on to the topic of the day.

Yesterday, Aug 3, I took my buddy, James, up on an offer of a tube spot out at Lake Barrett. I wrote all about Barrett in two long posts in May. I declined the invite initially, because I couldn't get a pal to go with me, and because other plans came up. When the other plans fell through I decided to go for it. Solo.

I've been working on my freshwater fishing this summer. Specifically, "warm water" fishing, which is a reference to bass and pan fish lake fishing. I've made plenty of effort, put in time on the water, read, sought out advice, all of the stuff I could think of to up my warm-water game. But the bass part still hasn't come together. Bluegill I think I've figured out, more or less, and a good-sized bluegill on a 4 wt. fly rod can be a lot of fun. A lot of them can be even more fun.


After a fitful sleep, the alarm went off at 3:35 a.m. and I immediately started coffee. I'd done most of the preparation and car loading the night before, so I just have to eat a little, dress, get my lunch and rods, and not forget coffee. I did forget coffee, but not too late to run back upstairs. Even with all the prep, I left a little late and had to make the 35-mile, mostly country, drive, in the dark, as fast as was safe.

I got to the line, relieved not have missed the first caravan into the lake, and waited for the long dusty drive in. I'd decided to try something different, and park at "Pig Point." Pig Point is a spot a ways further into the lake than the general parking area, and a better position from which to start a float tube excursion; offering access to a wider variety of conditions.

I was in the water before the sun came over the hills, and already missed a couple of strikes in the first few casts. Most likely bluegill judging from the quick, ticking strikes. I guess I was a little preoccupied with my plan of attack because I sort of glossed over the area, intent on getting into some big Barrett bass.

The famous top-water morning bite never materialized. Unfortunately, my bassin' skills for locating bass are limited to seeing them crash the surface, or at the least boil the surface. So, without a top-water bite, I was left blindly running streamers, and working jig flies on the bottom. Both methods proved fruitless. Aside from 2 bluegill on green micro poppers, it wasn't until 11:30 a.m. that I was able to add to my 5-hour fish count of 2. I did get two violent strikes on a deer-hair frog popper, but it's a tough fly to throw, and at that time the wind picked up pretty hard. This was around 10 a.m. and it made putting the big, wind-resistant fly very hard to place accurately.

Micro poppers have proven to be pretty useful on the gills, and even small bass. Barrett's bluegill spend the morning pretty shallow, working the weeds and tules for whatever it is they feed on, and sometimes the feeding is pretty enthusiastic. So if you can get a surface fly to where the 'gills are feeding you can do pretty well.

Once the wind picked up it was like being on San Diego Bay. It was shockingly choppy, and I figured, since the way back to the car was into the wind, I'd better work back that way if I wanted to be in position to take the 2 o'clock train out. I switched my bluegill combo to a sink-tip line to negate the effect of the waves on the fly, and that proved to be a pivotal decision. I found some tules with space between them and the rocky shore (picture blow). This is the kind of thing I look for while fishing gills. Once I started getting the fly deep, I started picking up gills. Now 5 hours of tough, hot, windy, unproductive fishing melted from my mind as I concentrated on casting a size-14, black woolly bugger as tight to weeds, tules, and rocks as I could. After letting the fly sink a little, some slow, short strips usually drew a strike. Sometimes the fish hit within the protection of the structure, sometimes surprisingly far into open water. The first 5 casts into this protected pool produced 4 fish. These being fishes 3-7, I was relieved to have a number bigger than 2 to report. So far, in my experience, Barrett bluegill run on the smaller size on average, though I have seen a couple of pictures of absolute slabs. I've never caught one as big as those Upper Otay produces pretty regularly. I lost the bugger in the tules, and switched to a weightless damsel fly nymph. Since the protected area was pretty shallow, and I already had a sink-tip line, it was easier to keep from getting snagged. I ended up pulling a couple more gills off that section, and once, when the line sunk deeper than usual, picked up a small bass.

The bass taken "deep" lead to a brief rod switch, and I tossed purple bouface on a sinking line to see if any of the bass's buddies were holding deep. After a dozen or so casts produced nothing, I switched back to the bluegill setup and continued on my way. If the bass weren't going to happen, a large number of bluegill was going to be the way to salvage the day.

This must be what sparrows did before there were tract homes to build on.


I worked the steep, rocky shore line pretty hard for nothing, and I was getting hot and tired, so I decided to go fish nearer the car for a while. I saw another vast stand of tules and was just starting to attack it when James pulled up with his brother-in-law, Bill. They looked hot and worn out, as I'm sure I did. The conversation took place in the resigned tone of defeat. The way fishermen talk when the key to numbers just wouldn't present itself. We'd all decided the 2 o'clock train was the ticket out and they left to try another spot before it was time to pack it it.

I was left looking at a cove, protected from the wind, by Pig Point, and about 40 yards of continuous tules. This is in fact the same cove where I got my first two missed strikes first thing in the morning, 8 hours ago. I was immensely pleased when I hit a bluegill straight off, and set myself to rack up as many as possible while still leaving time to catch the 2 o'clock out. Much like the first tule honey hole, the strikes came both up tight, and in the open. It was a huge relief to have some fun, steady action for the last half hour. I ended with 21 bluegill, but just the one bass.

While not what I'd hoped for - I'd intended on doing some serious bass fishing - the day was salvaged by a steady bluegill bite in the afternoon. Barrett is a beautiful place to fish, and with all the huge birds wheeling overhead it gives the impression of being a lot further than 35 miles from downtown San Diego. The constant vultures, hawks, and ospreys, along with huge great blue herons, and big egrets really give Barrett a unique atmosphere. I even saw a little skunk cruising the shoreline early in the morning. Tough day, but well worth it.