The Approach
By Neil M. Travis, Montana
Listen carefully because I am about to reveal the secret
to becoming a more successful fly-fisher. Spend less time
fishing and more time observing.
Most of us never have enough 'fishing time' so when we
get an opportunity to fish we waste little time getting
after it. Unfortunately, this may prove to be counter
productive, and result in fewer opportunities to maximize
our opportunity to actually connect with a fish. In our
haste to get into the water and begin to fish it is likely
we will waste several valuable opportunities to actually
hook a fish because we haven't the vaguest idea what the
fish are doing.
Vince Marinaro was one of the keenest observers I every
had the privilege of fishing with, and his powers of
observation were well honed from years of observing trout
on his beloved Letort. If you have ever read any of his
books, and if you haven't you have failed in your education
as a fly-fisher, it would be obvious that it was his
carefully honed observation skills which marked him out
as one of the truly outstanding trout anglers of our time.
His approach was a study in the unhurried approach to
angling, because Vince knew the importance of taking time
to observe.
When Castwell and I fished on the Au Sable River in
Michigan we established a routine that rarely varied.
Before we began to fish we always spent a few minutes
quietly sitting along the stream observing. We would
select a spot where we had a clear view of the area
we hoped to fish, and settle down on a handy log.
Sometimes we would spend long periods of time just
sitting, but it was more than merely an idle indulgence.
We used the time to tinker with our tackle, smoke a
pipe full (we were pipe smokers in those days,) but
always we were watching the water. When we did begin
to fish we had a pretty good picture of what the fish
were doing, where they were feeding, and on what the
trout were feeding. Over time we developed a reputation
as being successful anglers.
I could regale you with tales of angling opportunities
that I missed or generally screwed-up because I did not
take the time to observe before I began to fish. One
particularly memorable moment happened many years ago
on the Madison River in Yellowstone Park. The general
fishing season begins the last weekend in May in
Yellowstone National Park, and for many years I shared
a tradition with several friends of fishing the Firehole
and Madison on the opening weekend. This was always an
iffy proposition since the weather at that time of the
year is very unpredictable, and normally we would find
the streams, especially the Madison unfishable due to
runoff. However, if we hit it just right the Firehole
and the Madison would have a good caddis hatch, and
the fishing would be hot even if the weather wasn't.
This particular year both streams were in good shape,
and the caddis hatch was excellent.
It was our practice to hit several places along each
stream looking for rising trout, and on this day we
spotted a number of fish feeding on a long flat just
below 7 mile bridge. We quickly parked the car,
grabbed our fly rods, and approached the stream. I
could see several rise forms on the far side of the
river, and promptly set off to cross the stream to
get in position to cast to the risers. As I approached
it seemed that the rise forms more closely resembled
white fish rises than trout. Thoroughly discouraged
to think that I had waded across the river only to
discover a pod of feeding white fish I continued
wading right into the rising fish. Suddenly I
realized that the risers were not white fish but
fairly sizeable brown trout, and they were now
scattering for parts unknown. Had I taken a couple
more minutes to observe more carefully I would have
likely enjoyed some great angling.
Most mistakes are made when we fail to spend enough
time observing the fish as they are feeding. Usually
we just grab onto the obvious, or we pick out some
old favorite fly and start pounding the water. When
that approach fails we change flies, change leaders,
move to a new location, or just scratch our heads.
It's time to slow down, sit down, and look.
While observation is the key to most angling
situations it is not enough to merely look but
you must truly see. Any artist can tell you that
in order to paint or draw you must learn to see,
and the same thing is true for anglers. If there
is some surface activity, what do you look for,
and if the stream surface is an unbroken sheet
what do you look for now? It's this ability to
see and translate what you see into something
that has meaning that separates the good from
the best.
The Big Horn River in eastern Montana is known
for its tough trout, especially when they are
feeding on a specific hatch. I have spent many
hours fishing this demanding fishery, and more
times than I care to admit the trout have been
smarter than I. Careful observation, a stealthy
approach, and precise casting are all essential
for anything more than occasional success. I love
to fish the rising fish on the long slick flats
where any false move will send every trout within
casting distance streaking for parts unknown. While
my failures outnumber my successes in this game,
when I have gotten it right, I have enjoyed some
of my most memorable angling experiences.
Midges hatch in the uncountable millions on the
Big Horn, and they provide some of the most
challenging angling opportunities. Since midges
of some sort hatch almost every day, the trout
become well acquainted with what they look and
act like, and this makes matching the hatch an
even greater challenge.
On one occasion my nephew and I were on the tail
of a large flat late on a warm spring day. The
midge hatch was sparse but steady, and the trout
had settled into a steady groove of slow head and
tail rises in the thin flat water. We pulled our
Mackenzie boat up at the tail of the flat and sat
in the boat watching the fish. I readied my one
weight rod extending the leader and reducing the
tippet down to 6x. We ate a few cookies and washed
them down with some hot tea, and continued to watch
the rising trout.
Finally I slipped over the side of the boat being
very careful to not create a wake or crunch the
gravel under my feet. Like a great blue heron
stalking a meal I slowly worked my way directly
below several rising trout and began staring
intently at the water. By bending down to within
inches of the water surface I could occasionally
see a small dark midge emerger. They were small,
easily a size 24 or 26! I selected a pattern that
my nephew had developed, a small sparse pattern
with a tiny grizzly hackle feather tied in to
imitate the shuck. I dressed the fly and the
first few inches of the tippet lightly with a
paste floatant, and then I waited. I watched the
closest riser, carefully timing each rise until
I established a pattern.
After several more minutes I felt confident enough
to strip off some line and make a cast. Using a side
arm cast I powered the cast low and hard just over
the water, and with a sharp tug on the line I hooked
the fly and leader into the drift line over the trout.
No luck, but the trout did not spook or appear nervous.
I allowed the cast to float almost back to my feet
before I picked it up and presented it again. I was
confident in my choice of pattern based on my
observations. I continued to cast several times
until the trout tipped up confidently and sipped
in my fly.
Meanwhile my nephew had waded across the flat
below another pod of rising fish, and soon I
heard the scream of his reel as a fine rainbow
took to the air. For the next couple hours we
gradually worked our way up the flat both of
us catching and releasing several 18 to 20 inch
fish.
When we returned to the boat we compared our fly
selection. Independently we had both chosen the
same pattern based on our own personal observations
and experience. Had we rushed out of the boat and
immediately began casting it is unlikely that we
would have had the success that we enjoyed by
fishing less and observing more. If you have not
yet learned this lesson give it a try this coming
year. You may just find that by fishing less and
observing more you may have greater success. ~ Neil M. Travis, Montana/Arizona
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