The kings have arrived, but in low numbers. None-the-less, I am headed out on Monday to see what the conditions are and catch a few of the wily rascals. Watch for post reprots this week.

I'm looking for a repeat of some fish like this one that I took in the fall 2009 season.

I had a note from Captain Jake Jordan. He had just been through the huge rain and flooding in NC and finally got out to have a look for some fishing action. Here’s his report:

Until about a week ago when the bad weather arrived, we had a great September of fly fishing, we caught hundreds of Spanish Mackerel, lots of Bluefish, and dozens of Albies. Spending 9 days without fishing was very hard on my mood swings, (Good thing I have Mom to cheer me up) so I was happy when Joe Shute called and suggested that we should go exploring today to look for Albies and also to check out the bait situation. Joe and I  traveled close to 30 miles this morning aboard Fly Reel, looking for bait, birds, and fish. The wind is blowing North East at 10 to 15 and the close in seas were calm, we found lots of dirty water, lots of bait, some birds, some spanish, Bluefish and a few Albies. Sunny beautiful weather with 49 degrees at dawn and 70 degrees air temperature at 11 AM when we quit. The water temperature was between 71 and 75 degrees today and it looks like the season is ready to explode with red hot Fly Fishing for Drum.

Our prime time season for this fishery is from now through the end off November, I still have a few select dates available for Albie charters. If you want to experience one of the best fish in the ocean on fly tackle, give me a call and come join me for some awesome fun? Available Dates as of right now: October: 7, 11, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, and November, 8, 9, 10, 11, 13, 14, 15, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 27, 28, 29.  I love my Job, Lets go fishing, wish you were here, reports to follow soon.

Captsin Jake with a really nice albacore.

Birds bustin' bait.

Albacore bustin' bait. The baitfish haven't got a chance.

I’m just back from an exploratory trip to Canada for lake trout. The trip was a success, providing not only a fun time but fodder for a story. This story, or versions thereof, will appear in three of our forthcoming books: Long Flies, The  Angler as Predator, and Fly Designing. Watch for the elements of each in the story below.

Twelve thousand years later, and the earth is still rebounding at a rate of about ½ inch (1 cm) per year from the pressure of five miles of ice that pressed down upon it. Such rebound will continue for at least another 10,000 years. Rounded patches of exposed Canadian Shield granite, smoothed by the unrelenting grinding of the glaciers, dot the boreal forest that now occupies the land. The rocks in the lake, however, are angular and rough. Twelve thousand years is not nearly enough time for these stones to have been bumped and rubbed smooth by wave action. The shoreline is tough wading among the jagged slabs of rock, and here and there, piles of the granite slabs form points and reefs. It is there that the lakers come to spawn in the early autumn of the Canadian north.

Dave Graebel was anxious to see if these late season lakers could be taken on the fly rod; I was certain they could be. And so Dave and I and Craig Richardson mounted an expedition to Dave’s remote cabin in the wildness of Ontario. Sink tip lines, full sinking lines, and specifically designed long leaders on floating lines went into the kit bag along with twenty dozen flies in a range of colors, sizes, and designs. Split shot in a variety of sizes lay snuggled among the reels and spare spools, extra leader materials, fishing pliers, hemostats, nippers, and other necessary paraphernalia for such a distant adventure. The travel tube, made from four-inch, schedule 40 plastic pipe was jammed with seven-weight through ten-weight rods, both as primary tools and as backups in the advent of accidental dismemberment.

The big Otter settled to the lake as smoothly as any landing on the tarmac, and in a few minutes we had unloaded fishing gear, waders and brogues, cold weather clothing, and an ample supply of food and fuel. Once the cabin was opened and the gear organized, we mounted the motors on the boats and headed for Rocky Reef, a particularly favored spot for the fall lakers. Dave trolled a spoon, and I cast a Bullhead Silver leech along the shoreline. On my first cast, a laker had the fly. The take was a hard stop—like catching the fly on a big rock, and at first I wasn’t certain that it was not a rock. But the sudden twisting fight of the fish banished any misgivings that I might have had.

“I’ve got one,” I called back to Dave.

“It might be a walleye,” he called back.

“If it is,” I yelled over the wind and the sound of the 15-horse motor, “it’s the biggest one in this lake.”

It was indeed a laker, and a nice one, too. No, not the big 20-pound-plus brutes we had hoped for, but a nice 7-pounder. It found strong and deep, like all the chars, but the spring of the 9-weight graphite rod was too tiring, and soon the fish was next to the boat. Dave caught the barbless hook and flipped it out in one easy motion. We moved one. Suddenly Dave’s trolling rod jumped hard, and he jumped equally hard, catching the rod as it lurched out of his hands. Another laker of equal size. In an hour we landed five and lost another that shook the barbless hook of my fly. We had found them, and we would return on the morrow.

After an icy bath in the lake the next morning, we heard the Otter returning. It was Dave’s son, Bill, and his friend Scott Snead. We had expected them much later in the day, but the morning had dawned clear and bright, and the pilot got them out just after first light. Now we really did have an expedition. Scott and I would head out to fly cast for the lakers, Craig, Dave, and Bill would troll a jig and minnow and cast big spoons in search of whatever wanted to eat.

I was certain that running the boat over the shallow water we wanted to fish was unwise, so Scott and I beached the boat 50 yards from Rocky Reef and on its deep-water side. We kept to the shoreline and stalked the point with care. Crossing to its shallow-water  side, I flipped the fly out about 20 feet from shore, and gave it a short strip of about six inches. Instantly a laker seized the imitation and tore off out beyond the point of the reef. Scott waded quietly out to the rocky point and began casting. By the time I had beached the fish, photographed it, and got it back in the water, his rod was thumping. As it turned out, his was to be the biggest fish of the trip, a 34 x 15 inch brute that fought the rod hard and long.

The lakers were not thin of body, but their streamlined shape didn’t give them the weight of a salmon or big brown. The fish came in at just about 11 pounds. A nice fish, to be certain. We continued to fish, casting as far as we could and working the sunken lines back with a series of short strips punctuated with the occasion long strip and a pause or two. The take was always hard. The day finished with five of the big char each. It was not the horn of plenty that we thought it was going to be, but I didn’t hear any complaining from either of us. Dave and crew caught three lakers, all of which went back into the water. The walleyes they found later in the day, however, were more than welcome for dinner that evening.

The third day dawned cloudy and cold, and our morning bath was brisk, to say the least. The lakers were waiting for us, however, and our spirits were high as we motored to Rocky Reef. Dave and Bill went in search of other reefs, while Craig put us ashore. Then he too, went in search of other potential hot spots. The fish were in the shallows, and immediately I was into a nice laker. Scott, back out on the point, had to work hard to find one, and soon I was up, four to two on him. It was not a contest, but it did point out clearly that the fish preferred the shallow waters of the bay rather than the deep waters off the point.

At lunch time, Craig returned with a big smile on his grizzled face. “I’ve found them,” he announced. “They’re in the second bay around the shore from here.” “I got eight on a jig and minnow.” Needles to say we were hot to try his new found spot. So after lunch, Bill and Scott headed there with Craig. I elected to stay at the reef and continue to explore its potential. The fish in “Craig’s Cove” did indeed prove to be willing and eager, and Bill and Scott each took four more before it was time to head back. I found two additional lakers on the deep water side of Rocky Reef, one on my very last cast as the boat was heading in to pick me up for the trip back. We’d totaled twenty-four lakers that day.

Our dreams were filled with the powerful strikes of tough-fighting lakers, and we awoke with the certainty of a day that would give up thirty or more of the big fish. But the raw wind, dropping temperatures, and overcast, rainy sky had other ideas. Except for a trout that Bill took in another part of the lake, we got blanked. There were no fish to be found in any of our haunts, and none to be found anywhere else. Even the walleyes has zipped their lips tight, and we barely boated enough for dinner.

But the lure of lakers on Rocky Reef had infected us, and we left the next morning with a vow to return. Our flight path took us directly over the inlet, where in the spring, the biggest of the big ones will be in the shallows, eating spawning walleyes. I can feel the take of a big laker, even now, drawing the line through my fingers as it turns with a big Bullhead Silver Leech in the corner of its jaw. I can see it twisting and fighting against the unyielding pull of the 10-weight, and I can feel its strength as it slides out of my grip and back to the dark waters of the lake. It will be a celebration of life for both of us.

A nice laker showing average body condition of a spawning fall fish.

A laker showing a very healthy body weight.

Doubles.

Scott and Mr. 34 x 15.

From reader, Chris McCall:

Gary, Which leader-to-tippet knot is the strongest, the Blood Knot or the Surgeon’s Knot (double or triple)?  Are either of these knots as strong as the tippet-to-fly knot (I typically use the Clinch Knot)?  It seems like whenever I get into a situation where I have to break off due to a hang up, I am losing not only my fly but also my tippet.  I’m using same-sized mono for the leader and tippet.  I’ve had this happen with different leaders and tippet so I have ruled out that the material is old and in need of replacement.  I know the easiest solution would be to not get hung up but unfortunately, I’m not that good yet.  Also I obviously want to be using the strongest system in the event that I hook a heavy fish, not just a tree limb or rock.  Any advice would be appreciated. Thank you, Chris McCall.

Both a properly tied Blood Knot and a Double Surgeon’s are strong knots–in the 90-95% of material strength range. When tying them, be certain to lubricate them with a drop of spit and pull them smoooooothly tight. Never jerk them tight. Once you’ve pulled them tight, pull all the stretch out of the leader/tippet material and hold the material stretched for a few seconds. The stretching will assure that the knot is as tight as it can get. With this technique, I seldom get breakage at the leader tippet juncture. I typically use a clinch knot to attach the fly (unless we’re talking small tippet diameters connecting to large hooks). It’s very strong and won’t let go if it too is lubed and pulled tight, then stretched.

I might note that if you are typing your tippets to a commercially tapered leader, then I can understand why the knot breaks at the leader/tippet juncture. A commercial leader may not as strong size for size as tippet material. When using a commercial tapered leader, cut it back a foot or two before attaching the tippet.

I received this email from Youngki Min:

“I bought a rod weighs around 2.9 ounce and it is 9 foot 6 wt rod. Do you think that I need to get reel that balances the rod? People do not agree about this issue. Among reels designed for 6 wt, their physical weights of reels seem vary. Some of them are about 5.8 ounce and some of them are close to 4.2 ounce. Some people told me that I need to get a reel whose weight is 1.5 times of the swing weight of the rod, which means that you add 0.3 ounce, about which I do not know why they add 0.3. But I guess 0.3 accounts for the weight of the line. According to that suggestion, I need to get a reel whose weight is about 4.65 ounce. What do you think? If this is a common question, perhaps you can address this in your blog.”

So, yes, I will address it here.

The concept of balance in the rod/reel/line system has long been a confusing one among fly fishers. The word, “balance,” suggests that there is some point along the length of the rod (with reel and line attached) where a fulcrum can be established that places an equal weight of the rod/reel/line system on either side of the fulcrum. That is to say, that the rod assumes the position of a perfectly balanced teeter totter. Yes, and then what? Why is that necessary, and what does it do for the angler? Is a perfectly balanced teeter-totter rod more or less efficient as a casting/fishing tool? If so, then how does one achieve such balance, and where should the best balance point be? And is having a perfectly balanced teeter totter of a rod what “rod balance” is really all about? All these questions need to be answered before there’s any rationale for acquiring a reel (loaded with line) that will produce a perfectly teeter-totter-balanced rod at some point along its length.

My first encounter with the concept of the teeter-totter balance of the rod/reel/and line came when I was about 15. I had built my first rod on a Shakespeare “Wonder Rod” blank. The white, fiberglass blank had not been sanded and still sported its “taping marks,” making the winding of the variegated thread wrap a tough one for a first rod. It was a lusty rod, to say the least, but it was my rod and I fished it proudly. Then one day an older fly fisher that I met said the rod needed to balance with the reel such that when I held onto the grip, the rod would perform the teeter totter balancing act over my index finger (using a thumb-on-top grip). At that time I had a Model 1494 Pflueger reel, and he showed me how to take off the plate holding the spool release and fill the core of the spool with bird shot until such a balance was achieved.

Certainly sounded reasonable to me—especially since this guy was a whiz with bucktails, consistently taking fish that made my friend and I green with envy. So, I “balanced” my outfit. Boy was that sucker heavy! But it was balanced, and I could consider myself a real fly fisher. Trouble was, the ”balanced” outfit didn’t help me catch one more trout (even when I used the same bucktails as the older fly guy). Not only did I not catch any more fish, but lifting all that weight got to be a real pain in the a . . (that’s arm). So I took all the shot out of my reel and started to look a bit more askance at the “advise” of older fly fishers. Maybe these guys that caught more trout really didn’t understand everything about fly fishing.

Then one day I had another thought that clinched the deal. If my rod were perfectly balanced at exactly the correct point when all the line was on the reel, wouldn’t that point change if I pulled line off to cast. If only took a couple of seconds to determine, that yes, in fact, it did change. Toss that adage out! Then, one day I was ran across a story on R.W. Crompton’s “casting machine.” It literally would fly cast. When the machine held the rod at the teeter-totter balancing point with reel attached, the machine could cast further when the reel was subsequently removed than when the reel was left attached. No reel equals a longer cast regardless of where the rod is held. Crompton even developed a reel that attached to his belt so he could fish without the reel on the rod. A bit bizarre, but it made him happy.

So, finding the teeter-totter balancing point is of obviously no value to casting. On might think that it would be of slight value when fishing because the rod would be neither tip heavy nor butt heavy when held horizontally in the hand. However, in real life fishing, it makes no difference at all. The rod is moved, fished sometimes with the tip up, sometimes with the tip down, and always with the drag of the line against the tip. Just use the reel that has the capacity to hold the line and sufficient backing, has a serviceable and adequate drag, but far above everything else is s-m-o-o-t-h. A rough turning reel is no better that winding the line around tin can or coke bottle.

“Balancing” the rod/reel/line system means to use a line appropriate to the design of the rod and the fishing situation, coupled with a good reel and sufficient backing. Balance has to do both with casting and with playing the fish. In casting, the line flexes the rod. Grossly overflexing or grossly underflexing the rod by using too heavy or too light a line, respectively, will cause the rod to perform at less than an optimal level. Likewise, using a rod that is not strong enough to handle the fish with aplomb is not wise, unless one has exquisite fish fighting skills. For example using a 1-weight to play a 135-pound tarpon would be an exercise in futility.

I also advise trying a rod with several different line weights at distances that you normally fish before deciding what line to put on a rod. I regularly “underline” rods when I’m casting consistently long or tossing shot and big flies at distance. I “overline” my rods when consistently working short or using extra long leaders, tossing shot and weight nymphs at very close range, etc.

Rod, reel, and line work together when casting and when playing the fish.

I think the Blood Knot was so named because most people sweat blood when trying to tie it. Actually this knot isn’t hard to learn, and it’s a great connection between pieces of mono. The Blood Knot is thinner in diameter than a Surgeon’s Knot and hangs up less in weeds. But if there’s more than 0.002 inch difference between the two pieces of material being joined, then the standard Blood Knot, made with five turns on each side, doesn’t pull up correctly

When I began extensive experiment with leader materials and leader designs in the early 1970s, I discovered that if the two pieces of mono differ by more than .002 inch in diameter, and if 5 turns are taken with each sized material, the smaller-diameter material pulls tight first. Once that happens, the heavier material can’t side tight, and the knot can potentially unravel. From these observations, I developed the Double Blood Knot to tie together pieces of mono having more than .002 inch difference in diameter (see my book,  “Nymphing,” 1979). In the mid 1980s, I discovered a better way to tie the Blood Knot that is faster and produces a more balanced knot.

It’s called the 5/7 Blood Knot. Instead of making 5 turns with each end of the material, the angler ties the knot using 5 turns with the heavy material and 7 turns with the light material. For example, when joining 0.020 inch to 0.014 inch, make 5 turns with the 0.020 and 7 turns with the 0.014. The extra turns with the lighter material produces a knot that pulls up evenly; each side slides tight at the same rate and the knot forms perfectly. It’s the same length from the center of the knot to either end.

5 turns with the heavier material and 7 with the lighter material balances the knot correctly. Drawing by Jason Borger

I has been another very busy week. Our first volume in the Fly Fishing Series, entitled, Fishing the Film is at the printers and we’ve been proofing and approving. llast approval will be today and then off to the presses!

In the meantime, I am getting ready for a fishing excursion to Canada to try for lake trout in the shallows. They come in at the end of September or early October. The season closes October 1, so here’s hoping they get into the shallows a few days before then. I’ve been tying flies for the trip, and one that I know will work well on the lakers, walleyes, and pike of the lake is the Bullhead Silver Leech. This is an exception imitation of many minnow species , and has done yoeman work for me the world over. Fish it slow, fast, on a nymph rig, jig it, etc. It works.

Mount the hook in the vise (in this case a TAR 200, size 2), attach the thread and tie in a tail of pearlescent Jewel Flash (or Flashabou).

Tie in a piece of silver wire, then attach a length of pearlescent crystal chenille. Wind the chenille to form a body that covers the rear 3/4 of the hook shank.

Trim away the excess body material and tie in a strip of silver mink (or similar material) at the front of the body, Wrap the silver wire as a rib to lace the strip tightly to the top of the body.

Form a spinning loop at the front of the wing and add a mixture of medium gray and white dubbing fibers (equal amounts of each) cut to about 1 inch in length (Here I've used FoxxFurr). Spin the loop very tight and wrap to form a tapered head. Brush out the head with a dubbing brush.

Add eyes and red throat with permanent marking pens.

I arrived in Alltentown on Thursday evening so I could teach a Bible study Friday morning from 8-10 at the Asbury Methodist Church for a group of 25-27 men. We had an excellent study. I spent the remainder of the day fishing the Little Lehigh. The fish were on and I managed 9 landed out of 14 hooked. All were nice fish. I also caught a 5 inch wild reproduced brown–nice to see them here. By the way, I noted rainbows exhibiting pre-spawn behavior–cutting redds and chasing. Interesting. The classes on Saturday and Sunday were well attended and everyone had a great time. I fished this morning, but the day was very bright and the fish not so excited about feeding. I managed 2 landed out of 6 hooked.

The Little Lehigh

Rod Rohrbach's Little Lehigh Fly Shop.

Sunday's Class under the big top.

A nice Little Lehigh brown.

A Little Lehigh 'bow.

I will be in Allentown, PA, this weekend to present one-day seminars at the Little Lehigh Fly Shop on Saturday and Sunday, September 11, 12, 2010.. There may still be an opening. If you’re interested see more at Little Lehigh Fly Shop Events. It will be a great time on the banks of the river.

There’s a reason that I don’t advocate float tubing in deeper areas on ocean flats. It’s called sharks. And the ol’ bayou? Well, it’s called gators. My friend, Dr. Gary  Eaton sent these along as a reminder to all those who fish in gator country–stay in the boat.

Imagine this bugger creeping up on your float tube. It could eat you and tube all in one bite.

With a head this big, it might even get the fly rod in the first bite, too.