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Beulah Blog

Columbia Fishing Adventure

September 30, 2023 By admin Leave a Comment

Hi, I thought you might be interested in the trials and tribulations of my 2023 recent trip to Colombia. Here are the highlights:

Most of you know I used all my spare time at Kulik last season to tie IGFA legal leaders of Seaguar Blue and the new Gold fluorocarbon to Ande Tournament Green Mono class tippets with Fluro, and Rio and Cortland wire to the fly. I ended up buying 2 leader wallets for each of the classes, 20, 16, 12, 8, 6, 4, and 2. I added separation cards so that each wallet could easily store 30 leaders. After realizing how hard the 2s were to tie, I added a third wallet for them as I knew learning to cast and fish with 2-pound would necessitate having more. The last thing I wanted to do was to be forced to spend my evenings in Colombia tying leaders in poor light, extremely warm conditions, and being tired from a full day of casting. I left Kulik with 60 leaders in each of the classes but 90 in 2. I experimented with a few of the 2s in the Taquan hangar just to see how much it took to break one! Not Much!

I had a good assortment of flies left over from my trip to Brazil and a few from left from my 2022 trip to Colombia and tied a few in my apartment in Ketchikan. As a back-up, I ordered $400.00 worth from head guide Leo Cardella who likes size 4/0 hooks but tied some on 3/0 and even 2/0 for my light leaders.  I had to pay him another $200 to rob his fly box again after my 2-pound class difficulties. 

Leo Peacock Flies

Best Payara Flies

I was gone from Ketchikan a full month and fished IGFA legal every day for 22 days straight. Prior to leaving I did manage to do some practice casting and leader experimentation in the Taquan Hangar for the new rods I took. It took a while, but after some coaching from Kulik Guide Drew Griffith and tips from old acquaintance Tim Rajeff at Echo Rods, and watching lots of casting videos on You Tube, I finally developed a little skill with the 2 hand beach rods I got from the Buelah Fly Rod Company, a 11 foot 7-8 wt that requires a 10 wt. line, an 11 foot 5-6 that requires an 8 wt, and after discussing 2-pound class tippets with the Beulah owner, I also ordered a Beulah G2 single hand 9 ½ foot 6 wt. that I used exclusively for the 2-pound class tippets. Specifically, my target fish were Orinoco peacocks – records to break:  2-pound class – 2-pound fish, 4-pound class – 4-pound fish, 6-pound class – 4-pound fish. In addition, I felt I had a good chance at the 4-pound class Payara record as I needed a fish 6 pounds 12 ounces and the 2-pound class a 3-pound 12-ounce fish to break the existing records. While the largest Spectacle Peacock (Temensis) I caught in 2022 was just short of 20 pounds, I never considered that a spectacle peacock record was possible due to the large size and numbers of that specie being caught in Brazil. Stupid thinking on my part!!

At the end of my first 14 days in Colombia I had arranged a special trip to the Ciranoco River in Venezuela to fish for Black Stripe Peacocks with every record available. Unfortunately, I learned too late to get a visa thru the consulate office in Caracas that due to eased restrictions on immigrant travel to Colombia from Venezuela, they had closed the visa office that previously issued tourist visas right on the Orinoco River. Bottom Line- I could not enter Venezuela for any overnight stay let alone the 7- day journey to the Ciranoco. Rather than go home early, I fished another week at Tucunare Lodge. By the way, I paid $3500 per trip for the first 2 back-to-back trips, and $2600.00 for the trip to the Ciranoco which including my airfare, tips, and additional hotel costs was still cheaper than one week at the best Alaska fly-out lodges. 

On arrival I tried to let everyone of the guides (according to lodge literature the guides speak Spanish and their native language Sikuani) which means they speak some Spanish but virtually no English. I can order a beer or two and get directions to the bathroom but that’s about it in Spanish for me. Because everyone on my mailing list is either a current or former guide (me included) I know how fishing guides want to deliver the biggest fish to our clients. The Colombian guides are no different. They relish the big fish! They are quite adept at handling big and toothy fish by hand and seldom  – if ever- use a net. When a smaller fish is hooked, they waste no time in getting it off the line and the client back casting for a bigger one. It was difficult for me to explain that I was not looking for only great big fish – Nearly every fly caster the arrives has the rods and leaders recommended to pull the fish away from the structure. I gave each of the boatmen and guides a bit of 4-pound class material and they all laughed then frowned and said “No way”! I also had to get my guys to use a net for even the tiniest fish! it took a while but due to IGFA rules and requirements, I had to remind them often to be patient and small fish were just fine!

During the first 6 days at the lodge, I joined the group of 11 people who were supposed to fish with me at Tucunare Lodge in 2022 but all had cancelled due to the Covid pandemic and civil unrest in Colombia. As a result, I fished with either the head guide, Leo Cardella, or with the lodge owner, Alejo Diaz, and was the only client for my 16-day 2022 adventure. I must say the group I joined were all nice guys, but most were conventional fishermen, only 3 other dedicated fly guys. I was partnered with Ricardo from Chicago. Mexico born; he is a fluent Spanish speaker so a great advantage for me. With his help I was able to convey record pursuit rules and regulations even though I didn’t get a fish worthy of a record that week. We went through the ritual a couple times with fish that I thought were close, so they got used to the process.

On Day 1 we fished my favorite lagoon, Pirariame (Orinoco Lagoon). That is the lagoon that yielded my world-record 10-pound Orinoco on 20-pound class tippet in 2022. I also caught many 5 to 8-pound Orinoco Peacocks there and was confident I could find and land more. I’m quite certain Pirariame lagoon was at one time a channel of the Orinoco River. It is about 4 miles long and seldom more than 250 yards wide. The best area for bigger peacocks seemed to be the southern half of the lagoon and that is where we e spent most of our time.  Ricardo and I both landed several 2 to 3-pound Butterfly Peacocks and a couple smaller Orinoco Peacocks but none greater than 3 pounds and no large Spectacle (Temensis) Peacocks. Last year I did not catch a butterfly peacock in Colombia and assumed there were none close by. I was surprised to catch one. I cast the Buelah 7-8 with an Abel Super 11 and a 10 wt Outbound Short Jungle  

Butterfly Peacock – mottled spots but none on gill plates

intermediate sink line and used a 12-pound class tippet all day. I cast till lunch siesta and cast again all afternoon and did not have to stop due to shoulder pain. I quickly realized my rod purchases were successful. The 2-hand overhead casting was much easier on my shoulders. Last year with a single-hand rod I had to stop casting about every 30 minutes and rest for at least that or more. I was taking aspirin and Tylenol every evening and again in the mornings just to keep fishing. I can say with certainty I never stopped casting due to shoulder pain – to have a cerveza or two yes- but not from pain!

On Day 2 I retired the Beulah 7/8 for the much lighter 5-6 wt Beulah with an Abel Super 8 reel with a Rio Outbound Short 8 Intermediate Sink head. I used that same line on an 8 wt Gary Anderson Sage Rod last year while in Colombia. While I did have that rod in my case, I never used it. While I caught Orinoco in every lagoon, I didn’t manage to land one big enough for a record. I did, however, loose a lot of fish during the learning process of light line class fishing. Personally, I had never fished any IGFA class but 20. Trust me, there is a huge difference going down to 6, and even more when casting the tiny 2s. For peacocks I fished a 6-pound class and when the opportunities presented themselves for Payara I used 4-pound class with 15-pound Cortland wire to the fly. I lost fish so many fish I was tempted to give up and go up to 16- and 20-pound class leaders but I didn’t. I am proud to say none of my Biminis failed and the breaks were mostly in the class tippets. I do think, however, a couple of the breaks in the bite tippets could have been piranha attacks. Piranhas are widespread and sometimes attack fish hooked and struggling. The other fly-fisher’s boat reported they had a fish attacked and only got the head to the boat. The piranhas got the rest of it. Piranhas are not so much of a problem in the lagoons. The big lagoon problem and even on the Vichada and Orinoco rivers were the sunken trees and snags hidden from view. Due to heavy rains at the head of the rivers, the water came up about 5 feet during my stay. That put the peacocks on the bottom and closer to structure than in low water. Retrieves had to be slow. The preferred method of retrieve at Tucunare Lodge is to make the cast and then put the tip of the rod under the surface and strip the fly slowly all the way to the boat. This procedure seemed much easier with the 11-foot Buelah than any 9 ft rod I used in the past. When a fish hits all that needs to be done is to give a slight tug on the line with the stripping hand to set the hook and then raise the rod. The boat is constantly moving along the shore about 80 to 100 feet from the lagoon edges so the longer the cast the better. I had fish hit near the shore, along the retrieve, and even right at the boat numerous times. During the retrieve, if you are not hooking submerged limbs and dragging up leaves you are not deep enough. I tried the standard 2-hand rod retrieve of tucking the rod high under the casting arm and stripping with both hands but wasn’t comfortable doing it. I think it puts the rod in totally in the wrong position for any possible strike. I much preferred retrieving in a rearward motion with my left hand. Again, the longer handle of the 2-hand rod held against my hip helped steady the rod on the retrieve.  In the worst of the high water I went to a 400 grain fast sinking head and 35-pound Rio Slick Shooter to 20-pound micron backing with the Beulah 5/6. After much experimentation for the 2-pound class, at Ray Beedle’s coaching I cut back a 300 grain fast sink head to 20 feet and used 15-pound amnesia backing on the single hand Beulah 6 wt. simply to eliminate drag. While I never caught any peacock that ran very far – the drag from a full fly line snapped the tiny class tippets with ease. Also, with the 2-pound class tippets I snapped off way too many flies due to poor back casts. Poor back cast-you lose a fly! I had to really concentrate on proper technique while using the 2-pound class.

For each of the 22 days my schedule never changed. Just after dinner and before desert appeared, Head guide Leo Cardella would assign destinations. I managed to choke down a beer or two after dinner and tried to be in bed by 9 PM. Each day I set my alarm for 330 AM. Because the water for showers is heated by sunlight, I knew showering after fishing was the best time – not early in the morning as I do at home. Because the kitchen crew delivered coffee to the dining pavilion at about 3:45, I was the first to get a cup around 4 and then would prepare my rod for the day. Most of the other fishermen arrived for breakfast about 6 but I enjoyed the time alone to reflect of the previous fishing and ponder the upcoming adventures. Every day I started with a fresh leader and fly for the that day’s target specie be it Peacocks, Payara or some other fish. I then would double check that my bite tippet fly connection length did not exceed 12 inches to keep me IGFA legal,  pack a box of crackers, check my waterproof bag for the required scales and IGFA measuring device, my leader measuring stick, ample flies for the day, and the camp issued hammock used for afternoon siesta. Next I’d clean my sunglasses and have more of that great Colombian coffee. We would leave the lodge just after daybreak (6:20 to 6:30) as most of the fishing areas were at least 45 minutes away and some destinations even longer boat rides. We would break for lunch and siesta about noon, start fishing again at 2 pm and then return to the lodge just at dusk and sometimes well after dark. Dinner was normally served about 8pm.  During the day my own ritual was to have a Cerveza after landing my first fish, and sometimes that would be early morning, but it seemed the right thing to do. By 10 the sun was beating down and I had to get into the yeti coolers have another. On a few days when catching was fast, I’m sure I had more than 5 before siesta.  Temperatures ranged from about 90 to upwards of 110 every day. It poured rain only a couple times during the day but like Hawaii, it seemed to rain mostly at night leaving the days hot and humid. 

On Friday, March 10 we left at 6:30 and headed for a small lagoon just short of the Orinoco River. I had a fresh 6-pound Fluro leader and a Leo tied peacock fly ready for action. Our boatman-guide spotted some fish moving and we stopped along a rock wall not far down river from the lodge. Moments later the boat was tucked away on the rock and Ricardo and I started casting. I had fished there once or twice in 2022 and knew it was sometimes a great place for smaller Payara and even some Pacu. Had I known we were stopping there I would have set up a 4-pound class wire leader. I hooked and landed a Payara (biggest one of the trip for me) on Fluro leader and a peacock fly. I left my bag in the boat and didn’t get an official IGFA length but my boatman (Perro Loco – Crazy Dog in English) did have my IGFA certified Boga grip and he weighed the fish at 10 pounds. Oh well – live and learn. On the way to the lagoon I switched out leaders with another fresh 6-pound class and was ready to battle but to no avail. I did hook quite a few larger fish but snapped off most prior to getting them in the net. Ricardo was using straight 40-pound Fluorocarbon leader and landed and released nearly every fish he hooked. 

On March 11 my luck changed but I screwed-up big time in my favored Pirariame Lagoon. I had hooked and lost a fish and then got a couple snags. I decided I needed to change leaders. I sat down and opened my 6-pound leader wallet and pulled one out. Javier Guevara, the owner of Fly Fish Ecuador Tours and our host for the first week had joined our boat for the day and seemed ready to help. As I was grabbing for a fly, I handed him the leader and asked him to unfurl it for me.

Not much current along the rocky ledge. Peacocks, Payara and Pacu. This Payara weighed 10 pounds on the Boga grip held by boatman Perro Loco

Javier is a renown big time marlin guide in the Galapagos Islands and was amazed at how tiny the 6-pound class really was.  I started casting again and felt a snag but then the unmistakable head shake of a big fish. Almost instantly, boatman Perro Loco paddled the boat well away from the shore and its sunken snags. Ricardo got his line out of the water, Javier started filming, and the fish and I battled. Several times I reminded myself it was only 6-pound tippet. Perro Loco hollered “Temensis”. Once I realized the fish was not an Orinoco but a Spectacle (Temensis) Peacock instead, my mind went numb. I was expecting the fish to be a great Orinoco.  I was at best dismayed, but tried to shake my disappointment, and did my best not to screw-up the fight. Perro Loco grabbed the net, but the fish did not give up. More than once I thought he would surrender but at the net he balked. Because my rod was 11 feet long and not the standard 9-footer that Perro Loco was accustomed to, I had to coax him further forward to get the best angle on the fish. When taken from the net, Javier weighed it at 17 pounds on the certified Boga-grip scale.  We got his formal length on the IGFA measuring device but when Javier asked if we should take him to the shore I quickly snapped  

“Oh no, the records for spectacled Peacocks are much bigger than this fish”.

We released the fish without taking it to the shore for an official IGFA weight. The rest of the day was uneventful, but I kept thinking I may have been wrong. Once back at the lodge my worst thoughts were confirmed. While I was taking a shower, Javier reviewed the lodge copy of the IGFA record book and announced to the group that I had landed a 17-pound Spectacle Peacock on 6-pound class tippet and my fish was 2 pounds heavier than the current IGFA record but I released the fish before we got a required “on the ground” weight. I was too stupid to weigh the fish. Let’s just say that I was so caught up in dreams about Orinoco peacock records my mind went limp at a critical time. But, that great fish on 6-pound class tippet gave me the confidence in my knots and fishing skills I needed to continue my quest.

This Spectacle (Temensis) Peacock weighed by Javier was 17 pounds- a record that only lives in my mind because I made a bad decision

On Ricardo’s last day with me, our boat was sent to the farthest up-river lagoons for another try at big peacocks. We had some good fishing as Ricardo caught his largest peacock of the trip but left early so we could try one more time at Pineapple beach (a short stretch of the Vichada River where the local people harvest wild pineapples) for Payara and Peacocks. Ricardo chose to fish the big sand bar for Peacocks and I stayed with Perro Loco in the boat to drift the short stretch of current for Payara. Using 4- pound class tippet I hooked and landed a Payara I thought was close to the record size. On the beach we weighed the fish and got him on the measuring board. I felt happy on the way back to the lodge only to get a closer look at the scale in the photos to find my fish was close but short a couple ounces from the record. He was 66 centimeters long with a 15-inch girth and weighed just over 6 pounds 8 ounces. Just a couple ounces short!

Noted for their Teeth, Payara are usually found in heavy current which makes them hard to get on 2 and 4-pound class. I got this one in the Orinoco River on 6-pound class with a 20-pound Rio wire bite tippet. This fish weighed 8 pounds, well under the 6 pound class record.

This Payara was just a couple ounces short of the 4-pound class record It weighed 6 ½ pounds

Only 3 new Guests, and Leo’s girlfriend, Maryanne, arrived that day to fish the next week. 3 Flyfishers one of whom paid extra to fish alone. I would get to fish again every day with Leo and Maryanne, an excellent fly-caster also from Argentina. I was disappointed to learn Alejo Dias, the Tucunare lodge owner, would not be able to fish with me during my last few days as his wife was expecting a baby any time and he had left Tucunare to get to his home in Venezuela to be with her.  

The next six days I faced difficult water conditions as the rivers continued to swell. Despite the extremely hot and sunny weather at Tucunare Lodge, the rain must have been tremendous near the headwaters.

On our first day together, we fished a lagoon I had never fished but didn’t do much catching. MaryAnne got a nice Temensis but I did not land a fish in that lagoon. We left and went up river to another lagoon I had not fished, and I got a fish Leo said is almost never caught on a flyrod, a Corvinada.  

Maryanne with her first Temensis

Leo & Maryanne

Corvinada

On March 13 we had high, murky water and the fish were lethargic. It seemed like the fish of 1000 casts saying used for mid-west muskies was turning true for Peacocks. I had chosen the Pirariame lagoon for our destination even though high water meant tough fishing.  I cast over and over letting the line sink each time and waiting impatiently to start the retrieve. Trying to be hopeful, I mentioned to Leo that we were close to the spot I hooked the big Orinoco last year and he nodded as he cast about 100 feet. I tried to match his distance. As I had done so many times that morning, I felt my fly stop and thought I had another snag and called out ‘Rama de arbor” (tree branch) but suddenly my rod bent and the snag turned into a fish and bolted for some half sunken branches. I strained the 6-pound tippet nearly to its breaking point and let the Beulah 5/6 rod bend to slow down the dynamic charge. Leo moved the boat away from the shore and when the fish suddenly broke water I saw the Orinoco spots and knew instantly this fish was more than 4 pounds. I kept the line tight and made sure to keep my rod tip pressure constant. The fish circled the boat a couple times which gave Leo time to get his line out of the water and ready with the net. A few heart-pounding minutes later Leo netted the fish with ease. We both knew we had to get to the shore. We weren’t too far from a grassy point with some flat ground. Once there, we completed the required weighing, photos, and length and girth measurements. That fish was just over 6 1/2 pounds. Leo released the fish unharmed. I knew without a doubt that if my class tippet leader tested properly, I would have the 6-pound class world-record for Orinoco Peacock. Leo and I both had a cerveza and Maryanne a coke to celebrate. I removed the fly and leader from my flyline and safely stored it away to send to the IGFA. On my second cerveza I went to my 4-pound test leader wallet and selected one, then asked Leo to help unfurl it while I opened my fly bag for a smaller fly. My next goal was a 4-pound plus Orinoco Peacock on 4-pound class.

I liked the Colombian beer and had many during my stay. This fly is just like the one used to get the record 6 pounder, also the same fly for the 17 pounder on 6. 

6 pound Orinoco on 6-pound class tippet. Previous record 4 pounds.

On March 18 I landed an Orinoco Peacock just over 4 ½ pounds on 4-pound class tippet. Length of 52 CM girth 13 5/8 inches and hopefully, a new record fish. Again, I used the Beulah 5/6 wt rod with Abel Super 8 reel with the Rio Outbound Jungle 300-grain intermediate sink line.

  4 ½ pound Orinoco on 4-pound class tippet

Immediately after that catch, I broke down the 5/6 Beulah and put it back in its case. I broke out the single hand Beulah rod and the Finnor No 2 reel with a 20-foot shooting head and 15-pound green amnesia attached to a fresh 2-pound class tippet and a smaller peacock fly. I knew the smaller fly reduced my chances a little, but I had to use the smaller flies once I realized I just couldn’t handle the 6 and 7 inch flies on the lightest tippets.

The next days were hard on me and my equipment. It seemed every fish I hooked got away and more than a few times I made a cast only to find I’d snapped off the fly on my back cast. After going thru more than 45 leaders and no count of lost fish and flies, I finally landed a total of 8 fish on 2-pound class tippet including 1 great fish on Tuesday March 21 at 6 1/2 pounds, with a length of 52 centimeters and a 13 ¼ girth.  That fish was by far the largest fish I got on 2-pound class and the fish I am most proud of on this trip.  I can also say with the high water, I didn’t even try the 2-pound class tippet for Payara. Next trip I may have better conditions. Right after my cerveza celebration, I put the Beulah 6 wt back in the case.

Because the water went up so much, most of the places that had suitable current patterns in low water for payara in the Vichada river disappeared and I had to fish a couple places on the Orinoco for them,  but I think that most of the Orinoco River Payara are much bigger than the Vichada river fish. Over several tries there, I hooked and lost many fish over 20 pounds and even those a bit smaller were in too much current for me to handle on 4-pound class tippets even with just a 300-grain head and Rio Slick Shooter 35.

Fishing just below the worst of the Orinoco River rapids. Way too much current for light tippets.  I’m standing in Venezuela, the opposite bank is Colombia.

On the last fishing morning of my trip, I was up again at 3:30 a.m. and had coffee at 4. While sipping coffee I gave some thought to not even going out but just relaxing at Tucunare lodge for the day. After all, I had fished 21 days straight and had been so lucky to have the three pending record fish. But a few minutes later Leo arrived for coffee. When he asked where I wanted to fish for the day, without any hesitation I said,  

Let’s try the Pirariame Lagoon again to try for a little bigger Orinoco on 4-pound class tippet. If the lagoon is dead, we can make a few casts for Piranha Blanco in the Vichada near the Rocky Lagoon.

A few minutes later we left the lodge and headed down river.  Leo and I started the last day casting for 2 ½ hours without a strike of any kind, but I was thoroughly enjoying the day. I was casting a consistent 90 to 95 feet occasionally more than 100. The 2-hand rod had changed my fishing and I knew it. I could not have been in a better place. The sun was just starting to heat up and I thought about stopping for a cerveza but continued casting. After a nonproductive retrieve I cast again but the line slipped away from my fingers and the fly clunked down and splashed only about 30 feet from the boat. I believe both Perro Loco and Leo thought that we were chasing our tail in the high water, but I didn’t care. I watched the local birdlife watch me fish. I caught lots of leaves and sticks and then as I pulled the fly close to the boat, a sudden golden flash. I saw the take. It was a fierce hit and the fight was on! Again, Perro Loco yelled “Temensis” but this time I wanted the biggest Temensis I could get. I couldn’t stick the fish nor apply quite as much pressure as I did with the 6-class but had fished the 4-pound class enough for payara that I was confident with my technique. I just had to let the fish tire himself out and not do something stupid like step on my fly line that was spread about the boat. This was a much longer fight than was the 17-pounder on 6. I wanted to land this fish. He looked big when I first saw him and was strong. Leo soon grabbed the net and waited for the fish to slow down. After four unsuccessful attempts to get him the last worked well. I got the fly line off the floor of the boat and back on the reel and I held the fish in the net submerged to keep him full of oxygen while Perro Loco maneuvered the boat towards a steep beach not too far from our position. We got our required measurements and photos as fast as possible to get the fish back into the lagoon after a short revival. That fish weighed 14 1/2 pounds was 70 centimeters in Length with a 19 1/4 girth – a big scrappy male fish. Previous record for Spectacle (Temensis) Peacock 14 pounds. A record I did not even consider possible when I started my trip, but one I will be happy to submit next week.

Perro Loco and my pending Spectacle Peacock

My 14.5 pound Spectacle Peacock on 4-pound class

Later that day I caught another Orinoco nearly the exact size of the fish I caught on March 18 on 4-pound class. Today I’m not even sure which fish is bigger so will have to do lots of study and photo evaluation to be sure I submit the correct fish, and fly.

I kept casting hoping for a little bigger Orinoco, but nothing hit that afternoon. On the way back to Tucunare lodge I switched leaders to 4-pound with wire to see if I could get a Piranha Blanco but got a Payarin (smaller relative of Payara same teeth but with yellow eyes) instead.

On this trip I got 3 species of Peacock, Payara, Black Piranha, Payarin, Corvinata – rarely caught on a fly, and a dog tooth fish. Last year I only saw 1 small alligator (black caiman) but this year more than 10 and some big ones.

I saw only 1 snake this year swimming across a lagoon quite far from our casting position, although I missed an anaconda about 12 feet long as I didn’t know what the guides were yelling about as it slipped into the river near our boat. Last year I got a couple Pacu but this year I only fished them one morning with no results. They weren’t jumping nearly as much as last year. If the courts change their stance and sport fishing becomes legal again in Colombia, I may return to try for the Payara records I did not get. But Guyana has the same species in 2 rivers, and that country may be worth a try – but I hear the food and camping conditions leave a lot to be desired. I may also try to arrange a trip to the Ciranoco river in Venezuela for the Black Stripe Peacock.  In the meantime, I’ll wait till our house sells and the courts make up their minds before I make any decisions. One thing for sure, I have a lot of very nice single-hand rods I need to sell and am also sure most of you need more rods. 907-230-3043 and send me a message or call and we can chat.

 

 

Personal Recommendations for the future:

My leasers have not been tested by the IGFA yet, but I have every reason to believe they will not over test. The IGFA still recommends Ande Tournament Line.  If any of you will try for a record, that is the line to purchase for your class tippets.

After tying, testing, and fishing with the light (2, 4, and 6-pound test) class tippets, I will only use Seaguar Gold in combination with the Ande Tournament for the class tippets for the light leader classes. Although I tied some with Mason 8 to 20 pound test to the fly, I never got a fish to the boat with Mason and so don’t know how it held up. Although a little harder to tie due to the extra hardness, I believe the smaller diameters in the Gold Fluorocarbon are worth the effort. I will continue to use Seaguar Blue in 20, 16 and 12 class.

Also, while I used both 10 and 12-pound Gold Seaguar on my 2-pound leaders, I will only use 12 in the next batch I tie just to remain consistent. The leader I used when I got the 2-pound potential record had 12 pound to the fly and it worked just fine. I also got a few on 10 to the fly but bigger the better and less spools to buy and store.

On the light leaders I also hit the “Beadle Closure” with a dab of brush on type CA glue. I was careful not to get glue on the Bimini as it is supposed to stretch. I tied all my leaders the same. I used a nail knot to attach the bite tippet to the Bimini followed again by a 7 turn Beadle Closure. I did the same at the other end of the Bimini to attach the first segment towards the fly line and used a double nail knot to attach the next piece. Because I was only fishing with a sinking line or head, I did not want my leaders to be much over 48 inches as I think that defeats the purpose of fishing deep. I made all my perfection loops a little small. In the future will make them at least ½ inch plus to more easily pass the larger flies through the loop when flies are pre-tied. I had not considered that while making leaders at Kulik. 

Specifically, in 2 and 4-pound class fishing, I realized I could not use any of the flies that had bucktail (most of those I had from my Brazil trip and all those I tied as the bucktail absorbs water and get too heavy. The next batch of flies I tie for any light line classes will be 100 percent synthetic. I want them to sink and absorb no water. They need to be as light as possible.

I will also be trying to find a 2-hand surf rod just a little lighter than the Beulah 5/6 – if one is made. In the final analysis, I think the 5/6 may be just a bit softer at the tip than the Beulah G2 I used for the 2-pound class, but not by much. I bought that rod specifically to use with the 2-class so that is what I did. I’ll be speaking with some other manufacturers soon. If you know of rod for me to try shout it out! If I concentrate more on the 2-pound class for other species, like Pink Salmon or smaller Silver Salmon which I think can be done, I think a softer rod might help. I have an Anderson built Spey in 5 wt. that may work but am not sure the action is fast enough.

A want to give a special thanks to my great friend Ray Beedle for introducing me to IGFA legal fishing, for teaching me the Bimini Twist at Kulik in the early 1990s, and the Beadle closure at his duck club while sipping some great Kendal-Jackson red wine. Thanks also to all the Kulik guides who helped keep me focused on IGFA legal leaders and shared my tribulations last season, and last but not least a very special note to  the tallest guy I have ever met, Kulik guide Ben Boehmig, whose question still lingers in my mind –

Do you really think you can get a record fish with the 2-pound class?

I did, Ben, I did, and I want you to know I thought of you and your question several times during my 2-pound class struggles!

Hope all goes well for each of you this season and let’s compare notes when you have time to send me photos of some of the great fish you produced.

Bo

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Beulah G2 Two Hand Opal Surf Rod 5/6 review, by Bo Bennett

September 30, 2023 By admin Leave a Comment

 

The Beulah Website lists all the material and corks used in the construction, but probably just like you, I don’t have the expertise to evaluate that information. I can however, give you my opinion of the rod both casting and fishing.

I fished at Tucunare lodge, Colombia, South America in 2022 primarily for Peacock Bass and Payara for 16 days. While I had 8, 10 and 12 wt. rods in my case, I learned quickly that my minor shoulder arthritis was more than minor, and as a result the heavier rods never left their case. I could only cast my Gary Anderson custom built 9 foot 8 wt for 25 minutes, but then had to rest for that much time or more. Pain killers did not help. After some serious medical evaluation, I decided against the new shoulder replacement surgery recommended and thought I would try Two Hand casting instead. After a lengthy internet study and seeking purchasing suggestions from Kulik Lodge Guide and Spey guru, Drew Griffith, I purchased a Beulah G2 Two Hand Opal Surf Rod in 7/8 and after receiving it and noting the quality, I ordered another Beulah in 5/6 wt. Because my goal included fishing the IGFA 2-pound class tippet class, I also purchased a Beulah G2 Single hand 9 ½ foot 6 wt strictly for those small tippets.  I have been fly fishing for 67 years and have more than 25 years’ experience managing Fly-Out fishing lodges, and fishing businesses in Alaska, Chile, South America, British Colombia and in Botswana, Africa. I currently hold one IGFA line class world-record and have four pending world-record applications from my recent adventure in South America. I submit the following review for your perusal.

I fished for 22 days straight at Tucunare lodge and used only Beulah rods.  On my first day fishing I used the Beulah two Hand 7/8 wt rod with an Abel Super 9 reel and a Rio Tropical Outbound Short 10 wt line and a 12-pound class tippet. I believed it would be easier for me to use the 7/8 to work on my casting stroke and practice line manipulation with a little heavier fly line. I caught a couple fish and felt comfortable enough with my casting after a full day to put that Beulah back in its case and start the next day with the 5/6 instead. Just like the 7/8, I found the Beulah 5/6 a pleasure to cast. The reel I use most days was an Abel Super 8 with a Rio Tropical Outbound Short 8 wt line. In the days with higher water I used a Billy Pate Salmon with a 400 grain shooting head backed by Rio Slick Shooter 35 pound, I also had another Abel Super 8 equipped with a floating line that I never fished. Both Abels and the Pate balanced perfectly on the 5/6. I found the reel seat to be easy to use and its machining and fit to be excellent. The rod was constantly exposed to bright sunlight and intense jungle heat. Temperatures ranged from about 90 to 110 although one day I saw 113 degrees on my camera (cell phone) which I kept in the yeti cooler. I had the Abel Super 8 on the rod for 13 days in one stretch and the reel seat never loosened nor was it hard to loosen when I needed to change. I found the rod easy to handle and cast, although some might be able to cast it single handed, I found it a little heavy, but with two hands the rod was simply great.

Primarily casting from a boat, I found the extra grip length also helped steady the rod on my retrieves. Within just a short time my casting improved to the point I was able to accurately put a fly about 95 feet and a few times I cast well over 100 ft. The 11-foot rod was very manageable, and I found it easy to adjust to the extra length. I also believe the extra length made it easier to get a fish to the landing net.

Simply casting the rod is one thing, but fishing it for 18 full days is quite another aspect of the evaluation. I admit I lost more fish than I hooked, but that was due to the steep learning curve I attribute to fishing with 6, 4, and 2-pound class tippets. The largest fish I landed on the Beulah 5/6 was a Spectacle Peacock that weighed 17 pounds on the certified IGFA boga grip and the rod had more than enough power to sustain several fierce runs. The rod was also soft enough to absorb the fish’s power. Because of the light tippets I had to let the bigger fish tire and the Beulah handled it extremely well. I also hooked numerous Payaras in very fast water. I was casting from a rock and my guide saw a couple fish he said went well over 20 pounds grab my fly and head for the worst current. I had one on for about 5 minutes as it pulled yards of backing from my reel. Again, the rod was more than enough for that size fish, but in the fast current the 4-pound class tippet snapped. I also caught many fish closer to 2 pounds and never felt over-rodded.  

I live in Ketchikan, Alaska and later this fall I plan to use my 5/6 for both Pink Salmon and Silver Salmon. If I get a chance, I hope to get to Kodiak to fish the Karluk River for the big Silver salmon found there, some more than 25 pounds. I’ll use the 5/6 there too. I have that much respect for the Beulah 5/6 wt two hander.

If you are looking for a do-it-all rod that will handle all the line classes, that is easy to cast and easier on your body, I highly recommend this rod. In a few months check the IGFA records and you will see my Beulah Two Hand 5/6 is the rod I used to collect 3 new Peacock bass class records.

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Nervous Water

March 31, 2022 By admin 3 Comments

“NERVOUS WATER, 9:30, 45 FEET!!!!!” I’m standing at the bow on a beautiful section of flats with a grassy, dark bottom.   Low angle light has this flat lander struggling to see anything.  Then, Alejandro directs me off the poling tower and his hawk-eyed son, Tommy, frantically points to a spot in the distance.   All I can think is: what on EARTH are they pointing at?? So let’s backup a bit…

The shuttle ride South was a long 5 hours from Cancun to the sleepy fishing village of Xcalak. Levels of excitement were high, and our arrival to the legendary Xflats was accompanied by hooting and hollering with a few “road sodas” splashing around. Two dogs, Bambi and Joey, greet us first and the reality of 7 nights and 6 days in paradise slowly settles into all of us. The Xflats immediately feels like home, and in a sense, we are really staying at Jesse Colten’s pad: simple but comfortable accommodations, laidback atmosphere and a small staff who very quickly feel like family.  Margaritas are passed out and off we go to get the lay of the land. Jesse never walks out on the dock without a fly rod, and we immediately see activity and even a barracuda lurking on our first glimpse of the water.

I spent time setting up for fishing that afternoon. I decided on 3 rods: 2 Opal 10 wt. single hand series with Scientific Anglers Amplitude Tropical Titan tapered floating line.  An 8 wt. Opal single with the Amplitude Infinity Salt tapered float line. My reasoning was as such: one 10 wt. would be dedicated to jacks and tarpon. I used a stretch of straight 40 lb. Seaguar fluorocarbon tippet to ensure maximum strength. I could really set hard and lay the hammer down on these powerful fish. Another 10 wt. had a 9 ft Scientific Anglers Absolute Fluorocarbon Saltwater Tapered 20 lb. leader to which I attached a 3-foot section of 16 lb. Scientific Angler Absolute tippet material. This was my Excalibur. This was my permit rod. In my mind, I wanted to have full advantage of a rod that could punch the wind. More on that later. And finally, for the bonefish peppered around the flats, the 8 wt. Opal with a Scientific Anglers Fluorocarbon 16 lb. SA tapered leader funneled down to a 12 lb. section of tippet was ideal.

So, before I go on, I need to tell all of you that I have never fished a tropical flat before. I learned most of my casting skills while striper fishing New England flats and shore casting.  My teachers were some of the most well-seasoned, salty Beulah boys on Cape Cod and off Martha’s Vineyard. For those of you who don’t know about striper fishing, it often involves blind casting into the full moon to nocturnal striper.  You have plenty of time to get pretty good at handling a 10 wt. Spent many summers with James Shaughnessy, the owner of Beulah, at his operation in Baja catching roosters and jacks in deeper waters. Calling Colorado my home waters, and trout fishing my way through the Rockies is how I honed my fly fishing skills. Hope that was an adequate disclaimer?

So here we go, day 1 of 3. I am just going to go ahead and admit, that these were what I referred to as “education days.” Cycled through 2 guides and their partners and really got a sense of what exactly they were looking for. “Nervous” water is not something that is easy to spot. When a pack of jacks or roosters arrive in Baja, it is explosive. Fins up, dark shadows. Can we use the word splashy?? Nervous water is subtle. As a fish (or pack of fish) cruises the flats, they displace water like a shark just cruising around for a easy meal. This displacement creates abnormalities on the surface, mainly in the form of subtle changes in the angles of the surface ripples. If you ever seen someone slowly wade into the flats, you can see that the surface ripples behind them change. Now try spotting these ripples across 180 degrees of water, changing angles of the sun, floating and submerged sargasso, the unbelievable camouflaged nature of your target species and the wind that always seems to be blowing in an inopportune angle. For the untrained eye (**cough** mine), you can imagine how useless I felt when I heard “nervous water” shouted, casting to a fish I couldn’t even lay eyes on.  Additionally relying on my split-second ability to visualize a clock and cast at whatever o’clock my guide is telling me to throw to.  And I also needed to know how to cast 30 feet and not 40 feet.  If a permit sees a fly line, you can be damn sure they’re swimming away.

Jesse Colten said it best to me after feeling slightly defeated the 3rd day: “This is not easy, but you will get your eyes adjusted. And a good attitude and faith that you will connect are what really matter.”

Day 4 starts with a beautiful sunrise and an amazing stalking experience to tailing permit with guide, Kissi, who maintains that the best way to get a permit to eat is on foot. They stay feeding and you get close enough to make the perfect shot count. Slowly approaching on foot, ducked down and quiet, the elusiveness of permit became much clearer as I present that tiny crab to a set of fish whose direction of feeding is only given away only by the positioning of their dorsal fins and tail above water. Let me be VERY clear: you can do everything right. These permit just vanish into the flats and refuse what seems to be a perfect presentation.  Shot after shot, time after time, the slow turn away or disappearance of these fickle creatures becomes customary.   Be it cruisers by the boat I can now suddenly spot or feeding fish, they just don’t want what I have to give. But somehow my vision is there, and now it feels like only a matter of time.

The next day more shots at the elusive permit. We suddenly spot a large pack of jacks with an older and experienced guide, Nato. Swapping rods has now become a smooth operation with my fishing partner Scott Petersen, a permit whisperer in his own right.   I find a 10 wt. rigged up with a black and purple beauty of a fly tied by Tim Sheran at Vineyard Vise in my hand and BOOM!!! That sound of the reel sizzle that we all dream of. Jacks are, in my opinion, one of the most exciting fish to catch on a fly rod. Aggressive eats, insanely long runs and just pure brute force. The 10 wt. gets bent and the smiles and celebrations start up as I begin to slowly recover what seems to be a football field’s length of backing. The jack comes in, and the cold cervezas are taken out of the cooler.  Then the realization that this was not a typical jack crevalle, but a horse-eyed jack! This species is not generally a resident of the flats and comes into shallow water for an easy meal. And, according to Jesse, was a lodge record for that species as they generally stay slightly offshore. I really needed that win.

Day 6… So, as you may have gathered by now, the number of fish in the boat on my part was minimal. Shots at tarpon and brief hookups, smaller jacks, pesky, small snapper that always seemed to eat my crab as a pack of feeding permit approached. The shots at permit were what I dreamt of at night. The strange obsession these fish create was something I hadn’t anticipated at all. Get on the boat and the guide asks what you want to do and the first thing out of your mouth becomes: “PERMIT, VAMANOS!” And the guides on day 6? Pio and his brother Reuben, aka. Los Hermanos Locos. Now let me start by saying, that the eyes on these boys became apparent immediately! We are firing line at permit on a one in every 20-minute pace. On the boat. Off the boat. The day is running like a machine, and let’s just say we all start having a feeling. Scott happens to be one of the more experienced permit anglers on the trip, and we have 8 eyes on the lookout at all times for these sneaky fish!  I fire off a wind-assisted 80 plus foot hero cast to a monster 30 lb. permit, and we all brace for impact. Refused! 3 tailing 20 lbers after a brief stalk and cast. Vanish without a trace. The cruisers just won’t cooperate. But at this point, you are TOTALLY used to this! So I get the bow for the last stint on the last day. We are meant to be back at the lodge at 4 PM and it is now 3:45 and we are 40 minutes out. Overtime. But Los Hermanos Locos simply don’t give up.

We enter a shallower area with sargasso galore. The fly I have on is too heavy and as Pio throws me a crab straight off his hat, Reuben announces a feeding school to our 11 o’clock moving away. Pio poles hard as I frantically attach the crab and bite the tag end off with my teeth. And just in time. The permit turn and start swimming directly towards the boat in a V-formation. Needless to say the wind is blowing directly at me because… well that’s what wind does. But I have the fish in my view, they are milling, and I lay out a perfect cast with my Opal rod leading them by 5 or so feet. One slowwwwwwwww strip and their body language changes. The feeding schools will compete for food, and this is EXACTLY what is happening. 2 slightly faster strips and there is a wake behind the crab. I know immediately that this is it. The eat was not so subtle, a quick strip set and I’m in. Permit aren’t speed demons in comparison to jacks, but wow… they just don’t want to come anywhere near a boat. Multiple runs and some delicate work on 16 lb. tippet and it is in the net!

Now I’m not exactly the emotional type. But let me tell you: when you just spent 6 plus days trying to accomplish what some would describe to be an improbable, borderline impossible task?? It feels euphoric. The whole boat erupted, and it almost seemed like we high fived until we all got tennis elbow. Hands shaking, legs trembling, I picked this beautiful creature of the flats up, and the smile plus the sweat-stained cap say it all. In overtime, on what really was the last cast of the trip, I achieved my dream.

Everyone knew something special had happened as we arrived more than an hour late to the dock. Jesse and a small gang came running down and the excitement was palpable. All smiles, Bluetooth speaker pumping out some Jerry Garcia courtesy of deadhead Scott. Beers and tequila with Los Hermanos Locos at the lodge. Just a feeling of peace and relaxation. And I will never forget what Jesse said as I came out of the boat: “I knew today was the day. Your attitude and refusal to give up caught you that fish.” And I fully agree. The permit was painted on the wall of Xflats lodge, and I joined a group of anglers that faced innumerable variables to catch what had become, and is now, a fish that will be a part of my dreams forever.

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Steelhead Magic

August 22, 2018 By admin 1 Comment

 

It’s a Saturday afternoon in late July and I’m leaving Maupin, OR to head back to Bend after a great Women for Wild Fish event.  My phone pings from the passenger seat. I glance over and see a text come through from one of my close friends, Taylor Geraths. He’s the owner of Taylormade Outfitters, a premier guide service in Central Oregon.  I open the text, “There are enough Steelhead in to make it worthwhile. When do you have time to go?” As any angler can attest, the prospect of fishing with great friends will always pique your interest. Within the next 10 minutes, I started figuring out how to sneak out of work for a day, along with all the logistics of getting myself back down to Maupin in 72 hours.

A few texts came through with photos of some beautiful steelhead Taylor’s clients landed on their most recent trip, along with pictures of the devastation left in the wake of the recent wildfires. My heart started racing at the prospect of catching my first steelhead. Simultaneously, the sadness of seeing our beloved river ravaged by fire was sobering. I guess I had to experience this all for myself. The draw of these magnificent fish of 10,000 casts and the witnessing landscape forever changed.

 

We added another awesome crew member to the trip, Bruce Berry. Taylor and Bruce have a long history, over 20 years of fishing and friendship. It was all coming together nicely. Taylor and I would meet Bruce at Deschutes Angler Fly Shop in Maupin and we’d put in at Mack’s for a 20+ river mile float to the mouth of the Deschutes. Up until this point, Bruce and I had only been in touch over the phone, talking fishing, Beulah rods, and how we’d have to get a group together and hit the river. You know when you meet someone for the first time and it feels like you’ve been friends forever? That is how it is with Bruce. We were telling jokes, sharing stories and our mutual excitement for some time in the wild. The boat was loaded up, rods assembled and the three of us cruised down the river in Taylor’s beautiful wooden drift boat.

The setting sun cast shadows on the canyon hillsides, making it difficult to tell the difference between where the fires raged and where another day was simply coming to an end. A faint smell of smoke lingered on the air, combined with the fresh, cool breeze coming off the water. Caddis hatches swirled around us and the sound of sporadic trout rising had my head on a swivel. I looked over at Taylor and he basically gave me the “we’re not here for trout, we’re here for steel” look and I tried to keep my excitement to myself. Let’s face it: most of us are still pretty damn excited when we hear that distinct sound of fish eating on the surface. I thought it was my drug of choice at this point. I was in for a big surprise.

 

Taylor rows over to the side of the river, sets anchor, and we lace up our wading boots. Bruce hands me a Beulah Platinum 7 weight Spey set up and we begin making our way through a maze of burnt blackberry brambles and six inches of ash. It was otherworldly. In some spots, you could see a salvaged grouping of green grass blades springing up. Others were so blackened, they looked like they could just disintegrate if the wind picked up in the slightest.

I fish a lot but the steelhead and two-handed or Spey style casting is very new to me. I acknowledge I have a ton to learn and, in all honesty, I think that is what keeps me so addicted.  Fly fishing provides an opportunity to challenge yourself and continually be learning. I know I can’t ever master it (well, unless I was Bruce and can throw line with the least amount of effort or Taylor and you can read water so well, you might as well be a fish finder) because a lot of the variables are out of our control.

Taylor takes the rod from me and makes a few casts to refresh me on my off-shoulder Snap “C”. It was his fourth or fifth cast and he feels a tug, turns to me with eyes as wide as saucers and proclaims, “There are fish in here.” He hands me the rod and says, “Jenny, we’re burning daylight. Get after it.” I grab the rod and start making a few casts.

 

The wind picks up and Bruce steps in to offer me some coaching on my Snap “C”. Taylor heads downstream to check out a lower pool and I feel a slight tug on the end of my line, the one that every angler hopes for with each step/cast/step. The next thing I know, my reel is spinning and line is hauling down river. A million thoughts run through my mind I remember the fifty times that Taylor has told me over our friendship to NOT SET THE HOOK! I heed his advice and come back to reality: I’ve hooked my first steelhead! Bruce gives me guidance on how to play the fish, trying not to be too over-bearing and I’m holding on for dear life to the rod. Next thing I know, the fish is gone and I’m left with shaking knees, not knowing what the heck just happened.

I hang my head in disappointment in myself- what could I have done better? Did I put too much tension on the line? Did I not turn the fish the right direction? I reminded myself that I have so much to learn and that I was fortunate to even connect with a fish that early in the trip, let alone hook one at all. By this time, the sun had set, we had about another 10 minutes or so of light before we need to reel up, float, find and set up camp.

 

“One more cast, guys…okay?” I holler at Bruce and Taylor. They gave me the nod of approval and I walked a few more feet downriver, threw out a cast and watched the line slowly swing towards the bank into the glassy water. I paused, waiting for that same sensation of that subtle pull. Nothing. Knowing we had to set up camp, I slowly turned my reel a few times, simultaneously taking a step or two slowly towards the bank and hoping that a willing fish would be right at the end of my line. I exhale, accepting that we had another day of fishing ahead of us. Suddenly, I feel that grab, grab and then WHAPPP! I’m hooked up again! Still shaking from the first fish, I yell, “Guys! Guys! GUYSSSSSS!”

 

Bruce comes up and guides me up river, giving Taylor some room to help land the fish. It jumps and we get a good look at it. “Dude, it’s a donkey!” Tay yells. This fuels my excitement which in turn, makes me hold my breath, filled with determination to bring this fish to hand. I watch the rod bend, the reel scream and I’m praying that this moment will all come together. The next thing I know, Taylor is trying to get a handle on this beast with only a sliver of light left. I exhale. The fight was over and WE landed it, on a fly that Taylor had tied that afternoon.

 

I walk down to Taylor, barely able to utter words, tears start welling in my eyes from sheer joy and thankfulness for the experience. I look down at this beautiful chrome hen- this miraculous fish who has swam through treacherous conditions and thousands of miles- and it all clicks. Now I understand why “Steelheaders” are complete junkies. Feeling that grab and landing that fish will permanently be etched into my memory.

I hold the fish upstream and let the current run over her until she starts shaking her tail and disappears into the depths of the run. Turning to Taylor and Bruce, I give them both huge hugs of appreciation for their guidance. There is absolutely no way I would have been able to land that fish without either of them. I will eternally be grateful for their coaching and selflessness in that moment. They both could have been fishing. Instead, they allowed me first crack at this run, stood by my side to help, and celebrated like mad when it all came together.

 

When I was able to get myself together enough to walk, we reeled up and made our way back to the boat to find camp and settle in for the night. As we navigated towards the boat through the ash-covered trail, I knew I was forever changed by this experience- not only for the incredible privilege of connecting with this magnificent fish but for the friendships that were even more tightly bonded by that moment. There is no doubt in my mind some of the best people around are anglers and I was fortunate to have these two amazing guys in my corner.

That evening, we sat around in our camp chairs, dirty and exhausted, eating a minimalist dinner of salami, string cheese and Doritos, washing it all down with a cocktail in celebration. I’m sure you could see the perma-grin on my face from a mile away. In that moment, there was no other place I would have rather been than on that river, with those friends, hoping to experience more river magic bright and early the next morning.

 

Story by Jenny O’Brien

For more information on guided Deschutes trips. visit https://taylormadeoutfitters.com/

 

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Christmas Island

November 9, 2017 By Nick Rowell 2 Comments

 

This June, before summer steelhead season really got going I was able to go on my first saltwater trip. Lucky for me this trip happened to be to The Ikari House on Christmas Island. Even luckier, I went there with my girlfriend, Kelsey and her dad, Dave. Dave has been several times and was kind enough to take Kelsey and I along to one of his favorite fly fishing destinations. Over the years I’ve heard countless, epic tales of the fishing on Christmas Island. So, to say I was excited, was a bit of an understatement!

Being my first saltwater trip, packing and prep seemed crucial.  Having friends that’ve been on every trip known to man, and a good relationship with a kick ass rod company (Beulah, obviously) made this part much less stressful than anticipated. I took 5 rods for kelsey and I, about 10 dozen flies, extra fly lines, a bunch of tippets and leaders, clothing and lots of sunscreen. All the rods were Beulah Opals (8, 9, 10, and 11 weights, plus the 9/10 two hander) matched up with either a Hatch or Nautilus reel. Of the 5 rods we took, we really ended up only using 3 of them. Kelsey, a first time single hand caster chose the 8 weight as her weapon of choice. It ended up being perfect… lightweight enough for her to cast all day, but enough backbone to fight bonefish, a big trigger, and a pretty much constant wind. I ended up using the 9 weight for my bonefish/trigger/milkfish rod, and always had the 11 weight close by for Giant Trevally. The rods kicked ass to say the least!

 

I could easily go on and on about the fishing, the lodge, the people, the guides, etc…. I think instead I will keep it short and sweet, and let the pictures do the talking. I’ve attached a small photo gallery with captions, below. All photos were taken by Kelsey Kilhefner, Dave Kilhefner, or myself. Hope you enjoy the photos… I’ll be heading back to Ikari House as soon as possible, can’t wait!

dropping in on Christmas Island
Heading out in the morning from the beach at Ikari House
Dave fishing a typical “pancake” flat in the lagoon

Christmas Island bonefish
Kelsey and Pete hunting bonefish on the edge of a flat
Not a bad way to get around! Photo: Dave Kilhefner

Opals ready for action
Kelsey and Dave enjoy the shade on the boat during lunch
Getting worked by a milkfish while a black tern investigates

Milkfish… these things pull hard!
Opal and a milkfish motor
Opal 8 weight korked on a big trigger!

Kelsey and Pete with the catch of the week
Pete ready to tail my first GT
Saying goodbye to a fish I’ll never forget!

11 Weight opal and solid GT
Heading to the Korean Wreck
Average bonefish at the wreck

Swallow tail at the wreck
Camp at the Korean Wreck
Opal 11 weight and Bruce’s baitfish pattern. The GTs couldn’t say no!

GT Double!
There are no words to describe how hard these things pull!

 

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Temptation & Weakness, Long Odds.

November 4, 2017 By Mark Martin 2 Comments

It’s a strange year to be a person who swings flies for steelhead around here.  Most strangely, there aren’t really all that many fish at which you’d swing.  I won’t get into it.   If you have any awareness of the inland Northwest steelhead fisheries, you know what’s happening with the upper Columbia and Snake tributaries.

The grim news started coming in this spring, when fish began to trickle over Bonneville.  Record-low counts, then even lower.  The worst was the projected wild-fish return:  about 1,000 native fish to the whole state of Idaho, to split between eleven or so rivers.  In case it’s not obvious, that is AWFUL.  A few years of this in a row could send some of the smaller-river strains on a straight, short path to extinction.

Due to the present reality, I did a lot of thinking this summer.  I conclude it’s time to have conversations about limiting our effects as fishermen, whether fly or spin.  In the interest of putting my money where my mouth is, I came up with the plan to just not fish this fall.  Not that I’m a particularly deadly force, but we know that there can be unintended mortality associated with catch-and-release practices.  I’d never get over it if I hooked a wild fish and unintentionally fought it to exhaustion.

 

a good-looking stack.

 

I almost made it. I sat out all of October, swung up some trout, did other river trips and cut firewood.  When my buddy Ian invited me to float one of our favorite sections of a local river the other day, I broke down.  I decided it was unlikely I’d hang one anyway, and thought I’d make sure by not bringing a sink tip, and just fishing dry.  The water temp had been hovering in the lower 40’s, what could possibly go wrong?

 

He hasn’t yet landed a fish, but he’s still fishing a dry line and classic hair wings. That is STYLE.

 

Ian keeps the faith.

 

It’s an entertaining, though useless, exercise to think at least briefly about what the odds were that we’d hook a single steelhead.  Then, what were the odds that we’d hook two, on dries?  That the one landed would be a native fish?  What were the odds we’d get grabbed in nearly every run we stepped into?  There’s one answer to all these musings: the odds were, inexplicably, 100%.

If there’s a moral to the story, it’s got to be this:  if you truly deep-down don’t want to catch anything, don’t go fishing.

Whoops.  Money’s no longer where my mouth is.  My bad. 

 

Rods: 13’7″ Onyx 7Wt., 12’6″ Platinum 6Wt, 12’4″ Platinum 8Wt, and a couple other randoms.

Lines: AeroHead 510, Scandi 400, and a home-chopped hybrid.

Flies:  a purple Muddler, a foam-backed October Caddis skater, and some freestylers.

Dogs: 4 black ones.

Boat: Juuuust barely big enough.

The Fish:  A zippy little hen with translucent, white-tipped fins.  Perfection in a summer steelhead.

 

Fischer takes a break.

Ian refuels.

Chaos reigns on shore.

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My Little Gem – Terje Bendiksby

September 6, 2017 By admin Leave a Comment

My little gem is The Platinum 3 weight. I have discovered a new way  of  fishing  in the wooden lakes in my neighborhood in Norway. Actually we are fishing at places, I have thought would be impossible to cast a fly. My fishing buddy Truls taught me the technique. All the pines surrounding the lakes make it difficult to cast without losing the fly in a tree branch, even if you try single hand spey.

The 3 weight length of eight feet combined with a line, with 25 feet head makes you put the back cast under the tree branches or roll cast the distance needed. If the wind is right up 40 feet, but usually shorter. The presentation is so delicate that it does not spook the fish. One trout I caught the other day, I stood on and casted from a cliff 15 feet above the water, hiding behind a tree trunk, missed him twice and hooked him on the third strike.

The trouts we catch are usually one pound and up. My friend has the the record with a 6 pounder on the three weight.

While I was in Mexico, I read a post from my fishing friend about the advantage of a short three weight. I asked James about the Platinum three weight. He highly recommended a custom build one. A choice I never will regret. The difference between the three weight and my four weight Platinum is as big as the difference between the four weight and the Opals I use in Baja. I had to adjust my double haul technique to be less aggressive, but I have gained the possibility to fish places I thought was impossible to fish with a fly.

The lakes we are fishing is one hour away by car and then one hour though terrain, were there has been no logging in three hundred years. The ice on the waters melts in the end of May and the fishing season ends September 15th. You may discover two or three different species hatching during the day, but if you are in doubt: Daddy long legs and the the Platinum 3 weight is the winning combination. Try it.

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Spring Break in the Land of Rain

April 11, 2017 By Mark Martin 5 Comments

I’ll admit, I can be somewhat of a Quixotic character at times.  I’m drawn to activities whose point or purpose tips a bit to the side of aesthetic rather than pragmatic.  Most happen outdoors, and are sensuous in nature – the kinds of stuff that feel really good, but are hard to describe.  Like a telemark turn, or greasing a rapid in a drift boat.  Or like a two-handed cast that lays out perfectly…so naturally, I swing flies for steelhead.  I’ve obtained a bunch of soulful Beulah two-handers and industrial-strength reels and other stuff that is destined to handle far fewer fish than any of my other gear.  I tie a lot of flies that don’t really imitate anything in particular, but are a kind of swimming poem.  I spend time thinking about what the steelhead might be thinking about.  And approximately once a year, around when the world’s youth are engaged in elaborate spring-break rituals, I travel to the coast of Washifornegon and spend as many days as I can string together, seeking a bright winter-run fish.

techy water.

I have this friend named James with a similar set of fishing tendencies, who lives on the southern end of Washifornegon, in a region referred to by its inhabitants as Jefferson.  I usually start with him on his home rivers.  For a while I’d been on a break from catching winter steelhead, focusing instead on improving my casting, tailing fish for others, and a little bit of rainforest botany and mycology.  I have to admit I was hoping I’d find a fish or two this time – it just gets tiresome to explain, you know?  – “No, I haven’t caught one in two years.  No, I don’t really mind.  It’s just nice to be on those rivers, on the hunt, immersing yourself in…Never mind.”

Ever step up to a spot and think, I’m going to get one in there?

I’ve always maintained it’s better to be lucky than good.  I think I’m living proof.  Some days, too, if you’re doing it right, before your fly hits the water you count yourself lucky.  If you look around and you’re in the Northwest, steeped in moss-covered forest, next to a dropping, clearing steelhead river, aren’t you fortunate enough already? What more do you truly need? Whether or not I truly need it, sometimes I go asking for it.

Against all statistical odds and probably some karmic ones, I got luckier.  I didn’t manage much for photo documentation of measurable success, but I have some photographic memories to hang on to.  A two-fish day in hammering rain, all by myself in a small inflatable kayak on 6,000 CFS made for a milestone.

How I roll…in the Falcon 1.

A series of 1-for-whatever and 0-for-something days followed that up, but since none of them were witnessed by James or any other living soul, I guess you can decide for yourself whether any of it even happened.  In any case, the south coast of Washifornegon was good to me, and the drag on my favorite reel got some solid exercise.

See-through. A grabby day indeed.

As spring break marched on, I had to follow the open season northward.  In the central Washifornegon coast there’s a place where the steelhead streams are clustered especially thick, and some long stretches of swingy water stay open through the spring.  I went to that place because I’d never been, and it was time for some solo exploration and reflection.  I like adding new rivers to my repertoire.

I found lots of low and clear, which I far prefer to chocolate milk in the trees.  And I also found fish.  I spotted fish but went grabless on a tunnel-like little stream of clear blue water and unfurling lady ferns.  I switched to a larger stream and began to get that funny feeling in well-structured bedrock and boulder runs with broken surfaces…and had grabby days.  The punctuation to my spring break was a fish that crushed a UV black-and-red squid twenty feet above the lip of a tailout.  The tailout led to a couple tenths of a mile of steep, eddy-less whitewater, and thence to a complicated class-V drop.  When this fish headed downstream, things, as one might expect, became epic.  I have no photograph to back up this experience, so let your imagination supply the steelhead, the “fight”, etc.  I’ve never felt so outgunned and thoroughly ass-kicked by a fish.  I’m satisfied to say that I didn’t land it.  To do such a thing would have taken a skilled net guy (which I categorically didn’t have), or fighting to its utter exhaustion the most impressive freshwater native fish I’ve ever seen, let alone hooked.  I hope he found a lovely lady and spawned like the champion he was.

Not a coffee table book sort of photo, but it’s the scene of the crime…who would be foolish enough to hook a giant steelhead here!?!? yeah, me.

This is how you don’t ever expect a fishing trip to end:  reeling up your broken tippet with shaking hands, squelching your way in overtopped waders up to the truck, changing, getting in, and immediately turning it for home.  An hour out from being a rainforest river creature, you’re in the systemic shock of Portland traffic.  By the same time the next day, your’e home, the truck’s unpacked and your laundry’s done.  Did it all really even happen?  Of course it did, but it’s still hard to wrap your head around how lucky you really are to get to live a long-held dream, for a week and a half, every single year.

Spawned-out cutthroat bycatch, on that red prawn fly! fish just eat that thing I guess.

Postscript, James has made this all possible for me several times; with river beta, sensuously satisfying two-handers, couch space, hotel room sharing, swapped photography, good Scotch, truck shuttles, etc, etc.   And for it all I’m duly thankful.   Couldn’t have done it without you.

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Carl’s Cutthroat

February 1, 2017 By Mark Martin 3 Comments

In September, I met Carl and his girlfriend Fredi at the Middle Fork River Expeditions boathouse in Stanley, ID.  They were on the happy side of a 24-hour travel day from his home in Florida.  I gave them an abbreviated introduction to the 6-day float beginning in the morning, and we parted ways for the night with handshakes and admiration of the Sawtooths in the forest fire smoke on the southern sky.  The next we saw each other we were boarding a little Cessna to fly over half the Frank Church Wilderness to the Middle Fork.

We landed, we floated, we fished, we ate, we drank.  I didn’t end up rowing for Carl and Fredi for a few days.  When I did, I noticed that Carl, while just as proficient as any of the other fisherman on our trip (and maybe with a stronger skill set than some),  – well, there’s only one way to put it – he was really laid back.  He was the rare kind of fisherman that’s a pleasure to row for, especially in a place like the Middle Fork:  he could hit every seam and bucket I pointed out, effortlessly manage a perfect drift, and then completely forget about it all to stare up at the otherworldly canyon around him.  He was a thoughtful guy; we talked at length about our lives, on and off the water.

But anyway…I want to highlight a fish that Carl caught just after lunch.  If you’re expecting a big stout slabby cutthroat, well, I’m sorry.  This isn’t one of those stories.  If I lost you by now, that’s cool – you can head back to Facebook or whatever.

We descended a steep riffle into a very steelheady run/pool on a 90-degree right, immediately above the rapid known as Haystack.  (Picture a 100-yard long steep boulder garden with sculpted pinkish-tan granite chunks the size of studio apartments.)  On the outside of the bend above Haystack is a fishy series of exposed and submerged boulders, seldom fished because of their proximity to a long hallway of wrap hazards.  A split-topped boulder begins the lineup of holding water, its upper four feet exposed at most flows.  Its upstream face is flat enough to form a little subsurface pillow…that is big enough to hold a decent trout…and it lies directly in the path of the bubble-line seam coming off a promontory of the left bank…   And so you get the idea: I pointed the spot out, Carl made a perfect cast and a perfect drift, and a trout rose and ate just above the boulder.

 

This was Carl’s fish.  As you can see, it’ll never be in a magazine.  It might hit fourteen inches on a good day, and it’s not exactly a physical specimen of a fish.  If you’re used to looking at pictures of fish that others display on various social media platforms and other interweb whatnots, upon first glance this might be a sad-looking trout.  In fact, I submit that if most of us caught this fish, we’d be immediately kind of unimpressed, if not straight disappointed.  You know:  You’d show him to your buddy, say something like “Not bad, kinda skinny though…” and release him, and get back to trying for your real prize – a fat, brilliant 16 or 17-incher.  Or whatever your ideal looks like.

I’d like to go a little deeper.  If you take a close look at this trout, you can see his belly and flanks are scratched up, scarred and healed.  The bottom lobe of his tail fin’s a little worn.  The bone structure that supports his dorsal fin is pretty well-represented.  His colors are a little muted.  What all this means to me, is that this trout led a pretty damn interesting life.  He was decidedly not the captain of the football team, who did well in college and grad school, and settled comfortably into a nice steady career and a sterile, featureless life in the trout suburbs.  Not a chance.  I’ve been making up narratives for him every now and then for some months – like maybe his natal spawning creek was a super hard place in which to make a living, and he barely made it down to the relative buffet line of the river with his life.  Or maybe he was just not quite big enough to throw his weight around in the creek, and got beat up and marginalized by the 15 and 16-inchers.

Or maybe, life’s just not that easy for any wild fish in any river, and we who would presume to prey, even if temporarily, upon these feisty little bad-asses ought to think that through from time to time; and let it sink into our flyfishing consciousness.  An inordinate amount of things have to go right for a trout to make it to an appreciable dry fly-eating size.

For sure, these are the musings of someone who has been getting into snorkeling more and more during time when he really could be fishing, just to watch trout and sculpins and caddis larvae and the like going about their lives.   On occasion it informs a fly pattern I’m developing, but more often I just like watching the Planet Earth episode that happens beneath river surfaces. Not to get too preachy, but I definitely see a majority of flyfishing happening to fuel ego-driven achievements these days, and a vast minority of it as an extension of someone’s naturalist curiosity about river life.

Which brings me back to my friend Carl.  When he briefly lifted his fish from the water for a photo, I remember saying something like “Damn…he looks a little haggard.”

Carl the tarpon fisherman said “But he’s beautiful.”

 

 

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The End of the Drought, or Steelhead in Idaho

October 18, 2016 By Mark Martin Leave a Comment

It’d been two years since I landed a steelhead.  I know that for a guy who writes a blog partially about fishing for steelhead and lives well within the range of anadromous fish in the Northwest, that seems kind of rugged.  Believe me, for a solid while it was just as rugged as it would seem.  After a while, though, my ego and I had a little chat, whereupon my ego chilled out and let the rest of me enjoy swinging flies with, as we say, “no expectations, but complete confidence”.

My dad makes a trip to Idaho and/or Oregon each fall to swing flies for steelhead.  He’s been hitting the milestones just as slowly as you’d expect, yet steadily as well – first steelhead, first Clearwater fish, etc.  This year we ended up spending a solid week on the Clearwater.  Fish numbers over Lower Granite plus in-river conditions made it seem like a good idea, and on our first night, at one of our favorite runs, he caught this fish:

p1000549

Not a giant steelhead, nor even a particularly spirited or wild fish.  But a fish nonetheless.  A side note, is that he was throwing a brand-new AeroHead on a brand-new 13’2” Platinum 7.  Brand new as in, I just peeled the plastic off the cork in the parking spot before we stepped in.  I’ve caught steelhead on two brandy-spanking new Beulah two-handers (both fish from the very first run each rod swung), and now, I enjoy reporting that my dad’s done it as well.

The next day, my friend Ian and I found twin hatchery hens.  It was starting to be really easy to step into runs with no expectations but complete confidence.

1497

The next day?  No pictures, but Ian and I each hung big, solid fish on dry flies.  It hammered rain, blew, and for the second day in a row, we never saw another fisherman.  I repeat, we were on the Clearwater…where the bejesus was everybody?  Never mind, I don’t care.  Even if we hadn’t been feeling fishy, it would still have been worth it to be up there all by ourselves.

The weekend came.  Early on we found a couple, no fish to hand but… the rain fell, the water rose, the bro-show descended, and the fish disappeared.  Hope faded.

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We ended up unintentionally staying an extra night.  I’ll spare the long story, but you know how it can be:  you have stuff to do, somebody to meet; and it takes longer than planned, and on top of it they’re late.  Not a big deal, but it’s not worth starting the tortuous 3-hour slog back home at nine at night.  I wasn’t looking forward to it anyway, and I think both Dad and I were relieved when we were able to admit to each other that it’d be fine to just sack out in the back of the truck again, hit the Upper Spalding Coffee Grinder Hole in the Wall Grease Bucket run in the morning, and head home at a leisurely, medium pace once the sun started baking the river.

Morning brought the river valley’s first frost, eerily swirling low-down fog, and back to back big, chunky fish for both of us.  Interestingly, Dad fished his first pass through the run without touching a fish.  When I got one behind him, he got back in and found his personal best fish to date.  Not a lot of things in my life seem as much worth doing as when I can be a part of my dad’s excitement over a very big, strong steelhead.  I’ve seldom seen him so elated, and thus, I can’t help but hope that there are always steelhead for him to get elated about.  The “sport” (or whatever you’d call our little subset), and the rivers it plays out on, may be getting pretty thick with people, but I’d recommend anyway taking somebody steelhead fishing that’s new(ish) to it.  Make sure it’s somebody who deserves it, who will take care of it, if you know what I mean.  And that they won’t give your money spots away.  If they stick one, you’ll feel that excitement, vicariously, all over again.  It’s worth it.

dsc_0678         dsc_0694-1

We came home, and Dad flew back to Maine.  If I can get all my firewood set, plus my garlic planted, and the yard and house ready for winter, I’ll be back out again and I’ll write about it.  Meanwhile, know that this is happening on rivers of the Northwest, and make yourself a part of it if you can:

p1000675 p1000715

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