Monterey Bay - July 16, 2011

Ready to rock...

After some discussion, dad made the drive from Reno to San Francisco, eager for a day of kayak fishing on Monterey Bay. My last day out in Monterey was a barn-burner, with close to 40 fish in just under 6 hours, including a giant Ling of just over ten pounds, so I was excited to put dad on some good fish. We arrived in Monterey at 9am to foggy skies and glassy calm water. Pushing in off the beach, we set out to the kelp beds along Cannery Row and the aquarium. Through the moored sailboats, across the harbor channel, and around the breakwall we went.

I was excited to try out my new 6wt - a St Croix Legend Elite paired to a Ross Evolution LT3 spooled with Rio Outbound Short T-6 (6-7ips) and backed with hi-vis Suffix 832 braided line. I had managed a black rockfish on my 8wt with an intermediate line my last time out but it proved a poor choice for targeting rockfish in 50fow - not only did the line just not get anywhere close to the strike zone, but the 8wt overpowered the average-sized black rockfish. I also had my trusty Stella 3000FE / Loomis Escape (M power) rigged as well. I set dad up with a similar rig, a Stella 3000FD on a medium power TFO travel rod, and a Stradic CI4 3000 on a medium-heavy BPS rod. The medium power rods held small bass jigs while the medium-heavy rig had a small spoon.

It was apparent from the start that the action this day was somewhat sub-par - took me about 45 minutes to bring the day's first fish to hand, a small Olive Rockfish of maybe 1.5 pounds on the Stella. After another Olive, dad soon hooked into a fish with his trademark "got one!" After a brief fight, he pulls up another Olive Rockfish, his first Monterey Bay fish!

Dad's first - a nice Olive Rockfish

We switch spots a few times, but never really find a hot bite. Along the kelp edges, I pulled out the 6wt, tied on a chartreuse and white stay hungry streamer (essentially a clouser with craft fur) and started banging out casts. The Outbound Short was much easier to cast from the kayak with the shorter (30') head, and the sink rate was a vast improvement over the intermediate line (duh). It was still an exercise in patience to cast, dump out some extra line, and allow the fly to sink for a minute or so, but better than last time. A couple of casts in and I was rewarded with a solid hookup from a good fish. I got the fish on the reel quickly, and the fight was on - this fish pulled pretty hard on the 6wt, doubling the rod over and pulling the tip into the water, taking a bit of drag as it did. After a bit of this tug of war, I brought a really nice Olive to the boat - probably close to 4 pounds, and a great first fish on the St Croix/Ross combo.

Beautiful Olive on the new 6wt - great fight!

I was pretty stoked with the 6wt - definitely the perfect weight for Monterey Rockfish. Sure, a serious Lingcod would present a real problem, but for the vast majority of the rockies that you'll run into in that bay, the 6wt is perfect. The St Croix, by the way, is a joy to cast, and at $450, looks like a heck of a great value next to my much more expensive NRXs. Ended the day with 3 rockfish - all Olives - on the 6wt.

Cute Olive on the 6wt.

For his part, Dad hooked into a decent variety of rockfish - the aforementioned Olive, as well as a handful of Gophers and Browns. Near the end of our fishing day, I was again casting around at the edge of the kelp beds when I hear another "got one!" I turn around and watch as my dad is pulling on a satisfyingly bent rod. Pull and crank, pull and crank - as the fish nears the surface, I see his rod double over and hear the drag zing out as the fish made a mad dash for the bottom - the trademark move of a big Ling. Even I got pretty excited now as I untied my boat and made my way slowly over to dad, who had a large grin on his face as he was fighting this fish. Ling's only really give you that one big run, and dad was able to pump and reel the fish up and out of the depths. Sure enough, out of the murk appeared the dinosaur-esque visage of a big, healthy Lingcod. As he brought it on board with the help of a lip-gripper, we both noticed that this particular one was a relatively rare blue Ling, with an amazing blue-green tint to the lower half of its body. The fish measured out at 27 inches, and I'd guess about 5 or 6 pounds.

Not bad for your first time on Monterey Bay!

The blue Lingcod.

All in all a solid day, despite below average numbers, and topped off by a really nice Ling. Pretty sure dad'll be back, and we'll hope for better numbers the next time. It was a beautiful day on the bay, though, with sunny skies and unusually calm winds.

Bay Area Freshwater - the Delta 2011

The best option for freshwater fishing in the Bay Area is the Delta - a massive collection of flooded farmland and man-made sloughs at the confluence of (mainly) the Sacramento and San Joaquin Rivers. About an hour's drive from San Francisco, the Delta features a variety of terrain, numerous boat rentals, and fairly shallow-water fishing for, primarily, largemouth bass and striped bass. With its size, it is also better than many areas at handling large numbers of boats. It is that size, though, that also makes it somewhat challenging to fish; getting to know areas of the Delta takes a long time, and many stretches of shoreline look almost exactly the same (and just as productive). Knowing the tides, getting to know the current flows and breaks, knowing water depths and temps and weed growth - all key to finding fish on the Delta. But if you know all that (I don't), and add in a bit of luck, the Delta can churn out some monsters. Many say that it is possible that a world record largemouth (this would be over 22.25 pounds) swims somewhere in the California Delta. Stripers in the 30 pound range are not terribly uncommon during certain seasons (winter, mostly) on the Delta as well. It also holds some monster carp that would be great fun.

Thus far I've made a handful of trips to the Delta this year, with mixed results. Typical results from a late-April day with good numbers but not a lot of size:

Early season - good action for small bass like these

My roommate Evan with a black bass on a wacky Senko

Healthy looking fish..

Very typical schoolie-sized Striper. These guys can be fun, though, when you stumble into a mess of them. This one came on a LV500 in Baby Bluegill.

Many will tell you that the top two baits on the Delta, at any time, are a lipless crank in a crawfish pattern, and a Senko (wacky, texas, whatever). The topwater bite can also be outstanding, especially the frog bite over the thick "cheese" weeds that often build up in the Delta during the summer. I've also had success with any chartreuse and white streamers / clousers.

Later on in the season, in early-July, I made another visit to the Delta on a scorching (mid-90s) hot day. The action was, somewhat predictably, a bit slow. I did manage to scrounge up a pretty decent largemouth on a wacky Senko just outside of Frank's Tract, though.

Decent Delta largemouth.

The other highlight of the day was stumbling into several huge (100+) schools of small (12-14") stripers that were chasing bait near the surface in about 25fow; tossing small crankbaits into the thick of the school yielded hookup after hookup; no monsters, to be sure, but fun action all around.

Schoolie striper on the fly (Rainy's CF Baitfish).

There were some slow days in between, and I'm looking forward to getting out on the Delta in the fall and winter months to chase stripers. Stay tuned...

Bay Area Freshwater - Lake Del Valle 2011

As I try to get this blog up to speed with the past few fishing outings, I thought I'd throw together all of the freshwater excursions of the past few months into one post.

Freshwater fishing in the Bay Area is typically a tough nut to crack. I grew up in the Philadelphia suburbs, and recently spent two wonderful years living in Ithaca, New York, so my sense of 'normal' freshwater fishing is a bit skewed. Relative to those two locations, the Bay Area has a relatively enormous population and a relative paucity of freshwater lakes, rivers, and reservoirs. I'm not much for drop-shotting finesse worms in 45 feet of water, so my local freshwater fishing is usually limited to early-season and/or the Delta. Add in the fact that I am boat-less and must depend on rentals, and that winnows down the range of options even further. All that said, fishing's fishing, and there are any number of old sayings about good days and bad days that I won't bore you with; suffice it to say that none of the above ever really prevents me from getting in time on the water.

First day of freshwater for me this year was April 9. My car said it was 37F degrees outside when I parked at the Lake Del Valle marina. I knew it would be cold...but 37 was still surprising. I was thinking that I should have brought gloves as I motored out onto the lake just as the sun was cresting the East Bay hills.

Sunrise on Lake Del Valle - beautiful and cold

With water temps in the low to mid-50s, I wasn't expecting a terribly active bite, but I did hope that as the sun rose, it might pick up. Started out tossing an EP Bluegill fly into submerged timber and tules along the shoreline and in various coves for nothing. Switched to tossing a wacky rigged senko in similar areas and soon picked up this guy - a cute Del Valle Smallie.

At least the skunk was off the boat early...

Stuck with the Senko for a bit, and as the sun came up, picked up an LV500 and started bombing that around, covering points, coves, and flooded brush/timber. It's a great bait in that you can cast it a country mile with great accuracy, and cover enormous swaths of water with one cast. It's not so great a bait when the fish are apparently too sluggish to chase it down, as they were that day. Did see a Bobcat, though.

Switched back to the Senko and found a nice spot where I pulled out the two best fish of the day - a chunky largemouth and a really pretty smallie that treated me to one spectacular jump.

Nice smallie on the wacky-rigged Senko

Picked up a couple dinks here and there to close out the day. All in all it never really warmed up much, as the high for the day was probably barely 60F. Used a variety of tackle, though the wacky-rigged Senko in any of the dark green colors caught all the fish. Medium power Loomis Escape and a Stella 2500.

I visited Del Valle once more, in late June. A very different lake this time - much hotter, and also really crowded. I got to the marina/park entrance around 5:45am and found myself about tenth in line, waiting for the 6am open. A number of cars and trailers showed up after me so that by the time they opened there was a line of at least 20 cars/trailers. And it showed on the lake that day. Del Valle is not a big lake - about 750 acres or so - and it gets crowded easily. By 11am, a 180 degree view of the water in front of me would typically show 7 or 8 boats! Every cove, every point, almost every attractive stretch of shoreline would have a boat on it; even if you found an opening, you knew it had just been fished by somebody else. I managed a couple dink bass, and one Rainbow trout on the 8wt.

Del Valle Rainbow on a Turpin's Messy Minnow

Ultimately I'd rather battle weekend pleasure-boating crowds on the Delta than have to fight for turf on Lake Del Valle, so I don't think I'll be going back during the summer. There are stripers in Del Valle which would be great to get into, though it seems that during the summer, the best way to target them is in deep water using slow-trolled cut bait.

Eagle Lake, Ontario - May & June 2011

The sky, it seemed, extended well into forever. Bluer and somehow clearer than any clear blue sky I've seen above San Francisco, it was flecked with wisps of white flitting about in the crisp spring air. The sound of water, the smell of old trees, the sight of acres upon acres of water and forest unblemished by any trace of another human being - yeah, this must be the first week of June, I must be in Canada, and I must, again, be on Ontario's Eagle Lake. Right where I belong.

Dad and I have been taking more-or-less annual fishing trips to Canada since I was pretty young. For a while we spent those summer weeks chasing a myriad of species on the Ottawa River. Later, as life and circumstance took us west, we rejiggered and settled on South Shore Lodge located on, yes, the south shore of Eagle Lake. 68,000 acres - that's sixty-eight thousand acres - and hundreds of islands made Eagle Lake, at least according to advertising copy, an angler's paradise. A flight to International Falls, Minnesota, a three hour drive north into Canada and, finally, a short boat ride to camp was all it took to find us in the heart of some truly beautiful country. Our first trip to Eagle was in late July and was quite successful - Pike to 37", some big Smallmouth, decent Walleye, a half-dozen follows from giant Musky (one being easily a mid-50 inch fish) and an unending selection of nooks, crannies, and bays to explore. We wanted to be able to target Smallmouth more consistently in the shallows and Gord, the lodge owner and former guide, recommended early season for this as the bass would typically be up shallow in pre-spawn, spawn, or post-spawn mode. Thus our second year found us on Eagle Lake for the first week of June. Gord's word proved true, as the Smallmouth were thick over rock piles and other shallow structure. On the days they were willing they wolfed down Senkos with abandon and chased down shallow crankbaits with ease. A 4-5 pound smallmouth was not an uncommon fish that year. The big Pike, also theoretically in the shallower parts of the lake at that time of year, proved to be somewhat scarce, with a 32" being the biggest we boated that year. But we had seen enough, and learned enough, to know that we were coming back for round three in 2011's first week of June.

If I had one word with which to summarize our 2011 Eagle Lake trip it would be gangbusters. Without question, our best year of Canadian fishing. Our first day, we got to camp in the early evening thanks to Delta Airlines, who was kind enough to provide our luggage with an extra night of accommodations in Minneapolis while we had already flown to International Falls. Not wanting to forgo any more fishing time than we already had, we unpacked a few rods and hit the water for a bit of fishing immediately after dinner. One of the best aspects of South Shore Lodge is that it is close to a number of great fishing spots. Thus we headed around the corner to Blind Bay, where we had found much success the year prior. 30 minutes after our last bite of dinner, we were blind casting to shore in about 4 or 5 feet of water (fow) at the entrance to a small cove in Blind Bay. Dad was throwing a crankbait and I was tossing about a Rainy's CF Baitfish on my 8wt fly rod and Rio Grand floating line. The water was clear enough that I could see the fly, some 8-12 inches below the surface, and a couple of feet around it. It's hard to describe how exciting it is, then, when you see the giant head and body of a large Pike appear out of the shadows around your fly, rush forward, and inhale your lure. Luckily I ignored my heart palpitations and was able to execute a good enough strip set and the fight was on. After numerous runs and contortions, we boated a 35" Pike, no more than an hour after we had just finished dinner, on a quiet bay devoid of any sign or sound of civilization. Starting out like that, on our first night, I knew we were in for a good week of fishing.

And in for a good week, we were. Our second day of fishing brought a number of fish to the boat, including another huge Pike on the fly rod - this one nearing 40 inches and 15 pounds that went aerial twice during the fight in one of the most impressive displays I've ever seen from any freshwater fish.

The smallie bite proved to be a bit elusive for the first couple of days. For some reason, they didn't seem as "on" at many of the spots that had produced last year. We found some, to be sure, but not quite in the same number as before. That began to change in the middle of the week. If it was the weather, or the length of day, or the moon phase, or some kind of hatch that was getting in the way, I'll never know, but at one point the usual spots started to produce again and what a treat that was. Our old friends had obviously been eating well since we had last crossed paths, and our average size of Smallmouth was significantly better than in previous seasons. It would not have been impossible for dad and I to have put together a 5-fish "tournament" limit of 25 pounds in one day! For Smallmouth, that's pretty incredible. I landed one smallmouth by the inflow of a creek in about 6fow that, while 'only' being 20 inches in length, was one of the fattest Smallies I've ever seen. She weighed a rather incredible 6 pounds!

Six pounds of Smallmouth on the fly rod

It is trips and experiences like this that continually reestablish the Smallmouth Bass as my favorite freshwater gamefish. It is cliched to say that they are, pound for pound, the hardest fighting fish in freshwater, but the tenacity, the acrobatics, and the sheer violence with which they fight makes for a truly commendable foe. Some of the smallest Smallmouth, in fact, are some of the most willing and pugnacious fighters, pulling with a strength that would trick you into thinking you had a much larger fish on the end of your line. It's the never-say-die attitude of these freshwater bulldogs that has earned them that special place in my angling heart. And while there are an unending amount of options when it comes to destination angling - exotic flats teeming with jacks and bonefish, bluewater adventures for billfish, jungle battles with tarpon or peacock bass - give me my choice and I'll take a Canadian shield lake in spring, a bronze bomber on the end of my line, charging off for points and destinations unknown.

This Smallie went 21 inches and just over 5 pounds - a massive, spawned out female

In addition to the constant action for strong, well-fed Smallmouth, Walleye also provided an interesting quarry on the fly rod. Typically a deep water fish caught by jigging or trolling some kind of bait, they are quite willing to take all kinds of lures and flies in the early season when they are in the shallows. We pulled out Walleye up to 22 inches in less than 4 or 5 feet of water. And while I make a point of releasing essentially every fish that I catch, we always keep a few eater-size (15, 16 inches) Walleye for the weekly shore lunch at camp, which is stupendously delicious. Fresh fried Walleye, potatoes and beans on a shore overlooking Eagle Lake in June - aren't too many times that get better than that.

Last but certainly not least, our 2011 trip to Eagle Lake also marked our first two Muskys - ever. Nothing huge (high 20 inches), but gorgeously colored fish and certainly thrilling to finally boat a couple examples of the elusive predator. Both came on shallow running crankbaits and light spinning tackle.

So gangbusters it was, and I'm already looking forward to 2012. Big Pike, world-class action for trophy Smallies, a few Walleye and even a couple of Musky tossed in for good measure - all battled and boated under the expansive Canadian sky amidst all the natural splendor that I could really ever dream of.

One of the last fish of the trip...

 A mix of fly and spinning tackle was used - for the fly, an 8wt was the weapon of choice, with an 8wt floating line and an intermediate line both seeing action. No metal leaders - got away with 30 or 40lb fluoro at the business end. Best fly was a Rainy's CF Baitfish in Fire Tiger or Chartreuse/White. A red/white Dahlberg Diver also produced well. Spinning tackle included Medium and Medium-Heavy power rods mated to 2500, 3000, and 4000 series reels from the Stella and Stradic families. 20lb PowerPro was standard, usually tipped with 20 to 30lb fluoro. Lipless cranks in minnow or crawfish color patterns produced well and could be fished at a variety of depths, though we were usually in less than 10fow. Yo-Zuri drums, or Lucky Craft LV500s. Shallow running, lipped cranks also worked well, from YZ Crystal Minnows to LC Pointers. Topwater bite was there, though we didn't pursue it as much as we have in the past. But buzzbaits and propbaits still produced. Daytime highs ranged from the high 50s to the mid 70s, with lows reaching as low as the 40s on some nights. Crisp and variable is an apt description for early June on Eagle Lake. There are usually one to two good days of solid rain, and this year was no exception, though Mother Nature did see fit to put on a hail storm for us one day as well. Good rain gear (even including waterproof shoes) is a must.

Guanaja, Honduras - May 2011

Steven made the trek from Hong Kong and I from San Francisco - both of us intent on plying the clear, warm waters of Guanaja, one of the Honduran Bay Islands. With four full fishing days booked from Graham's Place on a small reef off the Guanaja coast, we arrived locked and loaded for prime flats fishing. A Continental flight from Houston to Roatan, an extremely small (and somewhat alarmingly old) plane to Guanaja, a short boat ride to Graham's, and we were miles from anywhere recognizable, thankful to be free from the chaotic concrete jungles of our respective city-homes. 

Our plane - likely older than the both of us

We unloaded the boat - one rolling duffel, one aluminum hardside, two duffels, and two rod tubes - and were shown to our cabin. Dusty yellow on the outside, dark wood on the inside, and appropriately tropical all around, our bungalow was one of three on a pristine ribbon of white sand, a sharp line of blue-green water providing an almost stark contrast. The first thing that struck me about this unsullied slice of the Caribbean was the silence - perhaps we were just lucky, but as the only guests on the reef for that week, I couldn't hear much beyond the languid lapping of the waves and the ruffling of palm fronds. It was closing in on 5pm when we stepped foot into our cabin, with 12 to 15 hours of traveling behind us, and we both had one thing in mind as we unpacked wading boots, fly boxes, and a couple of 8-weights. And how could fishing gear not be the first thing you reach for when this is waiting for you just outside your door?

 After 12 hours of airports, airplanes, hygienically-challenged seatmates, being felt up by TSA employees, and more airports, there's nothing quite like the feeling of that first step into the ocean. At that point, if all the Honduran bonefish went on a hunger strike for the week, the trip would have still been a success. When the only person within sight or earshot is your trusted fishing partner, you're in the right spot. 

And that proved to be the right attitude, as the bonefishing wasn't exactly red-hot. Sighting them was easy enough - Guanaja's flats proved to be rife with numerous schools of bonefish, some with well over 100 individuals. Getting them to take, however, was a different matter altogether. Even with my sub-par casting skills, I managed to land a few casts right on the button, but to no avail. Throwing Gotchas, Mai Tais, or blind Charlie's, it didn't seem to matter - the fish just weren't interested. I did manage to land a very small grouper on the 8wt NRX, though.

Very small fish.

The first night at Graham's, we discovered perhaps its most interesting feature - a relatively deep water dock with a relatively bright light that was kept on throughout the night. Truly a special and eerie (especially eerie?) sight - standing in the black of night on a small dock overlooking the Caribbean, countless spots of light from millions of years ago dotting the sky, the sound of surf, wind, the smell of salt, and a 20-yard semi-circle of illuminated water in which you could see dark shadows cruising around, flitting into and out of sight like a dream in the morning that you can't quite hold on to. One such pack of shadows came cruising through and, armed with a Stella 3000FE, a Loomis M Escape spinning rod, and a Daiwa Chugger Minnow, I fired a cast across and just in front of the lead fish. Drawing the crank in, I ran it through the pack and managed to hook into one of the monsters of the night. In all of fishing, there are perhaps one or two sounds sweeter than the sound of a Stella's drag yielding line to the blistering run of a saltwater pelagic, and for the next ten minutes I was treated to this Shimano Symphony, of sorts. As the fish tired, I gained ground, and with the help of a timely net, landed a monster Permit of about 30 pounds. Turns out I had snagged the poor guy right in the back. I know some of you will have strong reactions, to say the least, to a foul-hooked fish. I will say that while I certainly would hope to fair-catch every fish that I catch, foul-hooking happens and if you give me the choice between not catching a 30lb Permit at all, and catching it by a chance foul-hook, I'll take the chance foul-hook almost every time. One heck of a fight, and a healthy release.

Very big fish.

 The next several days held a smorgasbord of fun flats action - sight casting to small Lemon Sharks, pulling on Barracuda, catching two snappers on one plug, finding a school of Snook in a small lagoon, sight-casting to monster Permit, casting to a school of Bonita busting bait on the surface, and, yes, catching a few bonefish here and there. Turns out Bonefish Bitters was the hot fly of the trip. Bones that had just refused perfect presentations of Gotchas and Charlies would snatch up a Bitters without a second thought. Some of the best bonefishing was right in front of Graham's Place, targeting a school of medium size bones that would always hang out around the lodge, and a few large solo cruisers usually found tailing behind the bar. Yes, tailing behind the bar, exactly where I like to find my quarry. 


The Permit proved to be, well, Permit - spooky and quirky. Despite a handful of decent shots and well placed crab flies, there were no takers. A few were spotted each day, and one day we found two well over 20 pounds on a slightly deeper flat, but the story was always the same - tantalizingly close but no proverbial cigar.

Casting at sunset, Guanaja.

Small Lemon Shark, but huge fun - sight fished with a small Yo-Zuri plug.

A nice bonefish caught after lunch just behind the bar area.

Releasing a nice bonefish caught about 8 feet from Graham's bar.

After a hard day's work.

 Weapons of choice for the trip - 8wt reels from Tibor, Bauer, and Ross, rods from G Loomis and Sage. Rio's Grand and Clouser lines. Conventional tackle consisted of Shimano Stella 3000 and 4000FE reels, Loomis Escape rods, and PowerPro braid. Top fly was a Bonefish Bitters. Top lure was a shallow-running (4 inches or less) Yo-Zuri crankbait used for sight-casting with the spinning rod on the flats. Any deeper than a few inches and you would snag grass every cast. Daytime highs were in the high 80s to mid 90s, though wading combined with a slight breeze made the conditions quite pleasant. Plenty of sunscreen was used in the making of this adventure, and long pants and sleeves came in handy. Little in the way of bugs to speak of.

All in all a phenomenal time, with the experience ranking slightly ahead of the actual fishing.

The First Cast

I created this blog at the urging of my fellow Big Red Angler and frequent fishing partner Steven Lee - hopefully it will indeed be a useful and enjoyable tool for recounting, recording, and remembering adventures had, fish won, and fish lost. Tight lines to all...