I grabbed the flyrod and got back out on the flats again. I really don't do this as much as I'd like - family, plants, surfing, ceramics and fishing with spinning gear have all been competing for what little free time I have - but fly fishing really is different. It is slower and forces you to calm down. Calmness that lets you take in the surroundings and assimilate. No movement, just observation of the water, the limestone shelf and the wind. That is until you sight a target. Then your heart starts back up, the adrenaline starts to course through your veins and your eyesight sharpens up to keep the quarry's camouflage from working. That's just the beginning....
I don't play golf at all. I don't like the idea of 'enjoying' the outdoors in a man-made environment, chasing a little ball that you hit around with a club. And that swing... I like my back and hamstrings too much. That said, I do have a source of infinite frustration - casting a flyline with a weighted fly. Form, speed, muscle memory - these factors you can control and at times you can even bring them together to make it even look like you know what you are doing. Don't fool yourself. Mix in wind, the uncanny ability for fish to be on the most unoptimum location, and the seemingly endless types of casts/flylines/leaders and you suddenly have plenty of catching up to do. A challenge. Something to continually strive for. Knowing you are a lifetime student on a quest for ultimate knowledge is the first step towards enlightenment - after that you only know you're finished when you know you're finished. So fiy fishing (and most recently ceramics - more on that in another social media outlet) is my golf.
Like I started with, on Saturday I grabbed my equipment and made my way out to the flats. As soon as I cleared the brush and stopped to check out the conditions, I saw a school of finger sized mullet scatter and swim seaward. Though not because I emerged from the bushes - but because a forearm sized, finger sized mullet predator lurked behind them in the ankle deep water. This lone kaku (barracuda) didn't chase them further and stopped - right in casting range. I had tied up a mantis shrimp fly for the oio (bonefish) that would be further out on the flats, but seeing this guy just sitting there I had to try. I cut off the weighted mantis shrimp fly and tied on a 'Kaku Candy' fly and got the little guy's interest. After the third cast, I was able to get the hook set right on the outside of it's lip (where it couldn't bite through the tippet).
Even though my rod-reel-line setup was overkill for this kaku, what I really came out for was oio. Out on the flats I had four legitimate head turns-follows-and missed hook sets. It would have been nice to bring one to hand, but at least they paid me some attention. The tradewinds started to fill in and my freetime had dwindled away, but on the way back in I stopped to see if there were any kaku hanging out along the shoreline. Not one but three were in the super shallow water. I tied on another minnow fly and BAM - another kaku blitzed and I was wrestling (thumb wrestling is still wrestlign isn't it???) again!!!
I love flyfishing!
I don't play golf at all. I don't like the idea of 'enjoying' the outdoors in a man-made environment, chasing a little ball that you hit around with a club. And that swing... I like my back and hamstrings too much. That said, I do have a source of infinite frustration - casting a flyline with a weighted fly. Form, speed, muscle memory - these factors you can control and at times you can even bring them together to make it even look like you know what you are doing. Don't fool yourself. Mix in wind, the uncanny ability for fish to be on the most unoptimum location, and the seemingly endless types of casts/flylines/leaders and you suddenly have plenty of catching up to do. A challenge. Something to continually strive for. Knowing you are a lifetime student on a quest for ultimate knowledge is the first step towards enlightenment - after that you only know you're finished when you know you're finished. So fiy fishing (and most recently ceramics - more on that in another social media outlet) is my golf.
Like I started with, on Saturday I grabbed my equipment and made my way out to the flats. As soon as I cleared the brush and stopped to check out the conditions, I saw a school of finger sized mullet scatter and swim seaward. Though not because I emerged from the bushes - but because a forearm sized, finger sized mullet predator lurked behind them in the ankle deep water. This lone kaku (barracuda) didn't chase them further and stopped - right in casting range. I had tied up a mantis shrimp fly for the oio (bonefish) that would be further out on the flats, but seeing this guy just sitting there I had to try. I cut off the weighted mantis shrimp fly and tied on a 'Kaku Candy' fly and got the little guy's interest. After the third cast, I was able to get the hook set right on the outside of it's lip (where it couldn't bite through the tippet).
Even though my rod-reel-line setup was overkill for this kaku, what I really came out for was oio. Out on the flats I had four legitimate head turns-follows-and missed hook sets. It would have been nice to bring one to hand, but at least they paid me some attention. The tradewinds started to fill in and my freetime had dwindled away, but on the way back in I stopped to see if there were any kaku hanging out along the shoreline. Not one but three were in the super shallow water. I tied on another minnow fly and BAM - another kaku blitzed and I was wrestling (thumb wrestling is still wrestlign isn't it???) again!!!
I love flyfishing!
No comments:
Post a Comment