Anaconda!

I love the way the days start here.  At around 6:45, everyone meets for breakfast at the lodge.  The energy level is high after a good nights sleep, stories are shared, and you can sense the excitment.  Today, the cooks have made us bread in the shape of a tarantuala.  Which is kind of fitting.  It's the creepy crawlers that have brought me here in the first place, not the fish.  I used to watch a show called Wild Kingdom, way back when I was in grade school.  And it was the images of Marlin Perkins sidekick Jim, wrestling with an anaconda, that just convinced me that someday I had to see the Amazon.  And now here I am, and although I've never seen an anaconda (sightings are uncommon) at least I have the bread spider.

I'm just going to get the fishing description over with now.  It was super, super slow.  We were fishing with a new guide today, Daniel.  We started fishing the main river, and honestly, although Daniel spotted some of those big river cruisers from up on the poling platform, he wasn't able to really communicate where they were to us, resulting in a lot of guessing, and missed opportunities.  We did run into a big school of butterflies off a creek mouth, and had an incredibly large fish start blowing holes in the water when we hooked a butterfly, but we were unable to convert this one.  We fished some lagoons, but they were almost totally dead.  We did fish one large lagoon that you have to hike into, where the guides have a boat stowed away.  This lagoon had some large arapaimas rolling, but it was a big lagoon, probably 15-20 acres, and they never rolled within casting range.  I would imagine between Chris and myself, we probably landed somewhere around 15-20 fish, easily the slowest day I have had here.  And it didn't matter at all.

Mid morning, we were hiking our way into the remote lagoon, maybe a quarter mile walk.  Just as we got to the lagoon, with the boat in sight, Daniel stopped and pointed.  This time, no problem determining what he was looking at.  The biggest snake I have ever seen was laying in the trail, right in front of the boat.  There was a large crevace under a tree, and although part of it was still in there, an easy 12-14 feet of it were exposed.  The whole snake must have been 16-18 feet long and bigger around than my thigh.  It had absolutely no concern about our presence, whatsoever.  We took a bunch of pictures.  We watched it.  And then it occured to us, "How do we get to the boat?"  I poked it with my fly rod.  No reaction.  Daniel then gave it a little bump with the push pole, it immediately struck at it, then slowly turned around, and retreated into the crevace.  I realized this was my chance to touch it, reasoning that 18 feet of snake can't turn around that fast, so I ran forward and grabbed it a couple of feet ahead of the tail, long enough to get a sense of its heft.  And then just like that it was gone.

Guides casting competition

We fished the lagoon, unproductively, in keeping with the day.  I emptied some items out of the boat, and then came back to get a second armful.  I thought, what a great spot this thing has where it can ambush a deer or a pig on it way to the water, it could lie just off the path with it's head only a couple feet from the trail.  And then I looked, as I walked back up the trail, and that is exactly what it was doing, hidden back under the roots, but less than 24 inches from where my boot hit the trail, there it was!  Chills!

This was one of the days it did hit a legitimate 100 degrees, and it sure was nice being met with a cool drink back at the dock.  By 5:30, we were all gathered outside the lodge for the guides casting competition.  All the guides are taught to cast a fly rod before they are even taught to pole a boat, so they will understand the needs of the clients.  Most of them now tie flies, and a few have become very good casters.  This competition was won by Coboclo, who bombed a cast at least ten feet further than anyone else to win the distance category.

Another great day.  Funny how a slow day of fishing didn't even matter.  Tomorrow, I'll be back out with Preto again, hunting big fish, and hopefully finding some on the popper.

Sometimes impossible stuff happens! Amazon Day 4

Today, I'm heading out to fish with Preto.  It's hard to exactly desribe Preto, but he definitely has a lot of cowboy/redneck in him.  One of the things he is known for is chasing/catching caimens with his bare hands.  And yes, he still has both hands.  He has a great sense of humor, will go above and beyond to put you on fish, and just might be the favorite guide of a lot of people who come down here.

I'm also switching things up and fishing with my buddy Stephen Ruiz for the day.  Steve is a fantastic caster and fishermen, and we seldom have had a chance to share a boat, even though we schedule numerous trips together.  Because of this, with the way they set the rotation, I'll be fishing with Preto twice, and I'll miss a day on perhaps my favorite beat on the river, the lowest downstream beat, but you take the good with the bad.

Steve with a good one.

We started off working a large lagoon, and it became apparent that the west bank of this lagoon, the one we worked first, was loaded with a big fish.  We hadn't covered any ground at all before Steve had missed three big fish and landed a ten pounder, and I'd landed a couple of mid-size fish.  I changed flies to Blantons Whistler, a fly that has landed a dis-proportinate share of my big peacocks.  On the first cast with it, a big fish hammered it a few feet from the boat.  The whole shoreline was lined with sticks and logs, and this fish immediately wrapped me under a stick, and kept running.  Soon, in fact, the fish had me into the backing, despite the fact that the flyline was wrapped under a log ten feet off my rod tip.  If it ran parallel to the shoreline, it was certainly gone.  I was able to get the rod around the log, untangle the line, and it immediately became apparent that I was lucky, and the fish may have been brainpower challenged.  It literally did the only thing it could have done that would allow me to land it, which was do a half hitch around the log, and head straight back out into the open lagoon. And then dutifully waited for me to catch up.  A gorgeous 12.5 pound fish that I never should have landed. 

The miracle fish

On the far side of the lagoon, we played hide-n-go-seek with several groups of big fish that were cruising through the shoreline brush, occasionally popping out into open spots where we could get a cast to them.  Some of the groups had as many as dozen fish, and when a fly did get on the water in front of them, fish were slamming into other fish trying to get to the fly first.  It was some of my favorite fishing of the trip, and by the time we exited the lagoon, Steve and I each had two double figure fish, and a few 6-8 pound fish.

We then entered a second lagoon, and although it was even larger than the first, it was pretty dead.  We each landed a few of the smaller butterly peacocks.  We had a little excitement when Steve hooked the only large peacock we found, abouty a nine pounds, and good size caimen came flying through the water with murderous intent.  It's astounding how these generally sluggish creatures can snap into crazy fast predator mode in a heartbeat.  I literally grabbed the leader and slung the fish right into the boat, not normal practice, and Preto smacked the caimen on the head with his push pole.  Good times!

Long before this trip, for years actually, I've wanted to catch a redtail cat on fly.  I know it's highly  unlikely, they aren't nearly as aggressive as the suribim catfish that share the waters, but I didnt know how unlikely until this day.  I casually asked Preto, "How many redtail cats on fly in your boat?"  He replied, "Bait on the fly?"  I said no, just fly.  His reply was "none".  It had never happened. 

Big spotted that played hide and go seek in the brush that you can see in the background

 I did the math.  He has been guiding 12 years.  Somewhere around 2,000 days, 16,000 hours on the water.  And then literally two minutes later, he said, "There's one."  And sure enough, a nice redtail, happily swimming about two feet under the surface, coming right at the boat.  I've catfished enough to know you want to get the fly at their level and move it slow, and for once, I made a perfect cast, about three feet in front of the fish, that would put the fly right at it's level by the time it arrived.  I made a slow strip, really slow, and thought it looked like the fish turned a bit.  On the second strip, I felt a bump, and on the third, painfully slow strip, I came tight.  The fish plowed out into the middle of the lagoon,, there was a lot of  yelling and screaming in the boat, and after a workmanlike fight, there he was, a beautiful red tail cat of 20 pounds or so, which Preto promptly hauled into the boat.  Hooked right in the corner of mouth, just like you would order.  The 17 pound peacock was pretty cool, but this was something beyond that.  For about the next 45 minutes, I could barely concentrate to fish, thinking more about what had just happened, than what was happening.

The last part of the day was spent on the main river, poling the clear sand flats (the river was clearing a ton each day), and we started looking for fish on poppers.  I landed a few, but it was Steve that scored here.  A big fish was sliding along the bank, Steve got the popper on it, and it chased, pushing a big wake, and then absolutely murdered the popper.  A fantastic 9.5 pound fish.

Another great day on the Agua Boa.  Not huge numbers, maybe 30-35 fish to the boat, but plenty of quality  fish, a day with a top notch guide and a good friend, and of course, a red tail catfish!

So much better than I deserve! Amazon Day 2

Today, we are fishing with Zezinio, or, as most call him, Joseph.  I have high hopes for this day.  Joseph has guided in the Amazon for TWENTY TWO years!   He claims to be the first fly fishing guide in the Amazon.  He is a first class waterman, knows exactly how to pole and position a boat for any fly caster, and can read the moods of the fish.  I also have a little trepidation, because my cabin mate Chris is a new fly caster, and Joseph can be a little, let's say, "demanding."  We were discussing this last year, and we made note, that if you get the "look at me", comment you're in trouble.  However, if you get a whistle, after you make a great cast, that's the highest of compliments.  Joseph gives, and Joseph takes away.  

We traveled far upriver, and then left the main river channel and wound our way through what was basically a labyrinth, with Joseph occasionally leaving the boat to pull out or cut through obstacles that were in the way.  Finally, we reached what is always the goal of journeys like this.  We could see light ahead, and soon we left the darkness of the outlet and entered a small, open lagoon.  Immediately I hooked a large dogfish.  Dogfish are a little bit of a nuisance.  They are generally small, and so full of teeth that they can be really rough on flies.  I generally don't set the hook if I see them slashing at the fly.  However, they are also a fine gamefish.  They jump like crazy, pull well, and if you threw five weights to match them, they would be awesome.  This one was a big one, and well hooked, so it came to the boat for a photo-op, then Chris landed one as well.

After the dogfish, it was a parade of butterfly peacocks.  For awhile, it was fish on demand in the one to four pound range.  By the time we had circled around the lagoon, we must have landed a couple dozen.  Fun, not that I didn't have hopes for something more, but that's only because I'm spoiled.  So I felt satisfied, with just a hint of disappointment as we prepared to leave.  But wait, we weren't going back the way we came.  We were winding through another creek, breaking through new obstacles, and on our way to a new lagoon behind this one.  It felt like a lost and secret world, and then Joseph said, "Check leader.  Big fish here."  Well, OK then.  Looking at the lagoon, you felt that tingling in your spine that just says, "something special is going to happen here."

12 lbs

15 lbs!

I was on the bow, and in my first few casts, I got slammed.  There is nothing that can really prepare for you for how hard a big peacock pulls in those first 30 seconds after they are hooked.  They can literally yank you out of the boat.  If you can make it through the early part of the fight, you usually have them, my battles with big ones usually just last a couple of minutes.  But the strike and initial run can be shocking.  And so it was with this fish.  Jospeh spotted it cruising, I tossed a fly five feet in front of it, and a millisecond later, I was hooked up.  When the fish did make it to the boat, it was just perfect, a male in prime condition, with thick shoulders, and a big hump on it's head.  It weighed in at 15 pounds, which is tied with the biggest I have landed here.  There was some whooping and hollering (note, the hollering was all from me).

A few minutes later, I landed a twelve pound fish, and a few minutes after that, another twelve pounder.  My first year, twelve pounds was my largest of the week.  Some of the big fish we hooked were followed by other big fish, swirling below them, looking like they were trying to take the fly out of the mouth of a hooked fish.  Joseph called out, arowana, 11 o'clock, and there was one my favorite fish, sliding through the water in an easy, almost serpentine manner.  Of course, when the fly hit the water, the fish destroyed it, and then responded with two towering jumps.  Because it was that kind of day.

Chris meanwhile, was learning some hard lessons.  Primarily about strip striking.  Chris comes from a spin fishing background, and when you have a "bite", you lift the rod.  But if a big peacock eats your fly, and you lift your rod, you are almost NEVER going to hook it. Peacocks also have an annoying habit of basically eating, and then swimming directly at you, so you have to learn to strip hard and then keep stripping until you come tight. This lagoon was loaded with big peacocks.  They were hungry and willing.  Chris was casting well, stripping well, presenting the fly, and had some amazing eats from six peacocks, every last one of them double digit fish.  And he executed what the lodge manager calls the "fly protection program" every time, yanking it right out of their mouths.  After the third one, Chris got the "look at me", from Joseph.  And then a speech, "when fish eats, no lift rod (accompanied by a pantomine of someone lifting a rod) strip strike (accompanied by pantomine strip striking)  Immediately after that speech Chris missed two more big ones, and then had a huge fish in the 15 pound range eat right at the boat, a terrifying strike which he reacted to by simply jerking his rod to the left.  It was rough.  But the only way to land big fish is to lose some first.

17 lbs baby!

/We had finally worked our way around most of the lagoon.  I was blindcasting, and just as the line swung back towards the poling platform, near the end of the retrieve, I noticed a fish following the fly, in the second I had to process, and think, "big fish", there was a huge yellow flash as it ate.  From the beginning of the fight, this fish was different.  Not to over dramatize it, but it had a lot of weight, and a lot of heart.  After several minutes, it still was digging deep, and making short runs to the center of the lagoon.  We hadn't seen it, but I was pretty sure it was the biggest I had ever caught.  When we did finally catch a glimpse, Joseph whistled, which is always a good sign.  Finally we had the fish at the boat, and I wasn't surprised when it weighed slightly over 17lbs.  Importantly, my wife used to hold the family record at 16.  I feel a little bad that she is not here to defend her crown....a little.

We exited the lagoon and took a break for lunch.  I'm not much for siestas though, so I grabbed a five weight and walked the shoreline a bit.  I found a nice school of matrinxas, and landed one, getting broken off by two others.  I'm always fascinated at the variety of fish here, and probing around at lunch time with a small Clouser, a tiny beadhead, or even throwing some bread in the water and fishing a fly that looks bread, will almost always be rewarded with something.

After lunch we worked one more large lagoon, which I barely remember, except I did put two more double digit peacocks in the boat.  Our day with Joseph ended on a nice note, two large arowanas meandering down the bank, Chris making just the right cast, and then strip striking!  Arowana on.  I never get tired of these unusual looking fish, which are said to eat birds.  I'm just glad they eat flies so well.

I finished up the evening at the dock, catching some aracus and pacus under the watchful eye of Rex, the 16 foot black caiman that is kind of the lodge mascot.  There are days a day of great fishing makes you want to share it with everyone.  But sometimes it's so good, it leaves you in kind of a stunned silence, almost feeling overwhelmed by the fish.  This was that kind of day.  It was so good it just made me wish everyone I know gets to experience a day like it...at least once.

It sounds corny.....but it's like coming home.

This is my third straight year returning to the Amazon.  All three of these trips have been to Agua Boa Lodge.  Here's why.  Agua Boa Lodge is located smack in the middle of a one hundred mile stretch of the Agua Boa river, a stretch they have exclusive right to fish, and that is managed fly fishing only, even requiring barbless hooks.  It's a small river, ranging from a long speycast across in some places, in others, it's several hundred yards wide.  What it generally is, in the middle of the dry season, is clear.  When conditions are right, the guides pole down the white sand flats of the river, and sometimes fish can be spotted fifty yards away as they slide over the flat.  Yes, actually, there are parts of this kind of peacock bass fishing that will remind you of bone fishing.  Agua Boa is known as a numbers fishery, but the previous two trips have show me that there are plenty of larger fish, in fact my wife and I had a day when between us, we put seven 10 pound plus fish in the boat.  And the species diversity is unmatched.  Between  Terri and I, we have landed 26 different species of fish on fly the previous two years.  So, I bascially love it.  Numbers are high enough that a novice can be successful.  The fishing is exciting enough that a highly experienced angler will find plenty of challenges.  The accomodations are good, and the staff is wonderful.  Like I said, I like this place.

As we approached, flying low over the river, and I saw the lodge for the first time, it did really feel kind of like returning home.  I knew who I was going to see, I looked forward to greeting the guides and other staff.  I knew there would be someone greeting us with flutes of champagne when we stepped down from the plane.  I knew the lodge manager Carl, was going to give people opportunity to fish immediately, or take a nap, and fish later.  For the record, if I ever take a nap and fish later, I've been body snatched, I'm a pod person, go ahead and divide up my fishing stuff.

I rush to our cabin.  This year, I'm in a new one, number 3.  Each cabin is named after a fish.  This one is called Pirarara, which is what the natives call redtail catfish, and also, my absolute bucket list fish to catch on fly in this river, now that I've knocked off payaras and arapaimas, and by far the least likely.  Maybe this is a good omen!

A good omen?

There are 12 anglers at full capacity, and six beats of river, and currently seven guides.  The program is, you will fish seven days, fish each guide once, and repeat one of the beats  once.  I'll be fishing with my cabin mate Chris.  Chris is a new fly fisher, but has literally taken a year to get ready for this trip, practicing hard, and at least on the lawn, he looks good.  Today we will be fishing with Bacaba.  Bacaba is one of my favorite guides, very kind, and also curious.  Some of the guides get a little locked into the peacock program, if you want to stray off and look for big piranhas, cichlids, or anything unsual, he's your guy.  He's also a very good fly tyer.

And just like that, we're off.  My expectations are always a little low for the first day.  Because it's a partial day, the guides don't range as far afield, and may not be fishing their regular beat.   I've yet to land a big fish on my first day, (although my wife and I landed 120 fish our first day, two years ago.)  As we leave, I note the water is several feet higher than last year, and considerably dirtier (though not

jacunda

Chris, with his first of the trip, a small butterfly

dirty).  Our first fishing was blind casting a lagoon, and we didn't have to wait long for fish.  I always take a picture of my first of the trip, no matter what it is.  In this case, it's a jacunda, one of my favorites.  I think they're gorgeous.  This one, at a couple pounds, was a nice one.  And I definitely was going to take a picture of the first fish Chris caught, which was a small butterfly peacock of about two pounds.  A little review, the three common types of peacocks we will be catching are the three bar or tememsis, the spotted or paca, and the butterfly or boboleta.  The spotted and three bars are the larger ones, my best is 15, but Ron, one of our returning members, caught a 17.5 lb fish last year.  The butterflies are much smaller, a five pound fish is a real good one, and a six is the biggest I have seen.

Fishing was a little slow by Amazon standards, but the time still flew, and before I knew it, we were headed back to the lodge.  We landed somewhere around 40 fish, and Chris had the best one, a chunky 8.5 pounder.  We were greeted at the docks with a drink and appetizers, and I immediatley went back to my room, grabbed a five weight, and spent a little time at the dock, working the small, but far more choosy fish around the dock.  I caught several pacus, including this neat Marie Antoinette pacu, which looks like it's bleeding, but it's just the deepest red markings you have ever seen.  Also caught several of the zebra striped aracus. We met at

Pacu

Marie Antoinette pacu

Aracu

seven for dinner.  Dinner wasn't disappointing the food was good, and the setting was a little fancier than I was used to.  Everyone dispersed pretty fast after dinner, and I was in bed by 8:30 p.m.  Tomorrow we are fishing Zezinio or Joseph, as he is called.  He has guided for 22 years, knows the river better than anyone, and I couldn't be more excited about hitting the river tomorrow.

Manaus- Gateway to paradise

If you google "Manaus, Brazil", you'll read a lot of general facts about it, a city of 2.3 million, lots of industry, I believe Wikepedia describes it as "gritty".  I'm sure it does have a gritty side, but for the angler, Manaus is special.  If you're headed into the Brazilian Amazon jungle to fish, at some point you are going to end up in Manaus.  That's what I'm doing here.  I have a group of eight, myself and Chris, from Cedar Rapids, Iowa, Ron and his buddy Bill, from Florida, and Jim, and his stepson Mark, also from Florida.  Lastly, I have Bruce and Stephen from Oklahoma.  Stephen, Ron, and Jim were all here with me last year for the what was truly a fantastic week at Agua Boa Lodge, the rest are newbies to this fishery.

There are two ways you can do it.  The single American airlines flight coming in is going to arrive at around 12:45 a.m., and by the time you get settled in your room it's close to 2:00 a.m.  You can arrive on Friday night, and be back up and on your way to the river at 6:00 a.m. on Saturday, or you can come a day early, and opt for a tourist day in Manaus on Friday.  Hands down, the extra day is the better way to do it.  So, that's where we are at, headed out for some tourist activities, that is, all of us, except Bruce, who had his flight cancelled, and will now be arriving in the evening.  Another great reason to come a day early, it gives you leeway if you have issues.

Today, we start off at the market.  The first market we walk through is vast, and contains just about every known fruit you can think of, and some you can't.  But we are really just walking through the fruit market, to get to the main attraction, which is the fish market.  I've never seen anything like it.  It covers several thousand square feet, dozens of vendors, and over thirty species of fish endemic to the Amazon.  In the pics, you can see arowana, tambaqui, suribim catfish, and peacock bass.  It's a little depressing to contemplate this happening day after day, week after week, but it's also fascinating, and I could literally spend hours here.

Arowana and suribim catfish 

Lost my bait...again

Soon, we are back in the van, headed to our next stop, the "Meeting of the Waters", and the arapaima farm.  We head out by boat and come to the place where the Rio Negro and the Amazon river meet.  The Amazon is sandy colored, the Rio Negro is dark, and the temperature difference between them causes them to run side by side for six kilometers without mixing.  You can literally dip your hand in the Amazon, and then in the Rio Negro, and feel a huge temperature difference.  We then headed upriver, passing through a small town consisting entirely of homes floating right on the river.  There is a market, a school, a couple of churches, and even a home for sale for around 10,000 American.  Don't think I didn't consider it.  Soon enough, our boat pulls into the arapaima farm.  Arapaima are the largest scaled freshwater fish in the world, reaching over 400 pounds, a favored eating fish for many Brazilians, and also a dream target for fly fishers.  At this point, a good deal of the arapaima for sale is farm raised.  At this particular place there is a twist.  There is a large tank full of BIG arapaimas.  You are handed a stout branch with some heavy duty rope, and a fish is tied (not hooked) to the rope.  You toss it in there, it is immediatley seized by a fish much larger than you, and you have yourself a brief tug of war.  I know it sounds kind of hokey, but you will see grown men giggling like junior highers the whole time this is happening, including me!

That evening, we all head out to a Brazilian steakhouse, stuff ourselves, and head to bed.  Tomorrow, we'll be flying out early and hopefully by 11:00 a.m. we will be fishing!  Sometimes, when anticipated fishing is coming the next day, I have trouble sleeping.  We'll see!

Floating church

10,000 American