Rumble in the Jungle Day Six Amazon 2022 Can fishing be too good?

What an interesting day.  Fishing with Joseph again today, which is always a good thing.  Joseph is experienced, and when he sees a big peacock, gets so excited it's almost like watching a birddog go on point.  A day with Joseph is going to involve some whispering, some shouting, and maybe some cursing.  But it's always going to be good.

The water has risen again and is really rolling.  Today, however, it will benefit us.  We headed downstream and then turned left into a channel that had never been accessible before, and then were in the boat for a solid forty minutes, bumping through trees, and around log jams, and even once it opened up, still went much longer.  It had to be a positive sign that even in the skinny water, we were spooking big peacocks, including several above ten pounds.

We popped out into the lagoon proper and the first thing that became apparent was that there were big butterfly peacocks, many of them five pounds or more, everywhere.  And mixed in with them were plenty of giant temensis peacocks.  I started on the bow, took a few casts and landed a double figure fish of about eleven pounds.  What Scott and I have been doing is switching every time someone catches a good fish.  Scott stepped to the bow and immediately hooked up with a nice ten pound fish, he landed it, and while I was waiting for him to get his line under control enough to switch, I hit a twelve pound fish casting from the middle of the boat.  And for the next three hours, that's just the way it went.  Too busy to count, but it was the most productive, frantic, big fish session I can remember, and when it was over, I'm sure we landed well over a dozen fish that broke the ten pound mark, more than my wife and I caught the entire week combined when we first came four years ago.  I landed an absolute chunk that probably went fourteen, and Scott landed his biggest of the week that we weighed at 14.5.

That fish was approaching us fast along the bank, moving from right to left about 70 feet out.  It was my shot, and just as the fly was in the air, and halfway to the fish, I realized I had my foot on the running line, and the fly abruptly fell to the water about 20 feet short.  I was frantically trying to strip in and cast again, and Scott says, "Too late", and launches a cast 95 feet, dropping it perfectly in front of the fish, which immediately elevated and inhaled the fly.  He does stuff like that.

Moments later, I lost the peacock of the week.  I had an enormous flash behind the fly, a powerful take, and was into an absolute tank.  It exhibited much more endurance than peacocks usually do, and every time I would get it close would go on another powerful run.  A brief glance had us speculating, 18, 19, 20?  But when I had it with just a few feet of line and the leader left, it surged off again, and the fly just simply pulled out.  Sometimes the big dudes win the battles, especially fishing barbless.

We hit one more lagoon, but it was pretty slow.  Or maybe we were so satiated by the action earlier, we were fishing lazy.   But did have one more highlight to finish the day.  A large school of arawana materialized off the stern, and that's the only way to describe it.  It seems like they come out of nowhere!  But this time, I had a three weight rigged up with a foam cicada pattern, and I was ready.  I would drop it out there, pop it a couple times, let it sit, and these things would rise to the surface and jump all over it.  I only landed one, but I jumped a couple of others and missed several strikes, Scott also landed at least one on a small streamer.  One of my favorite jungle fish.

So, I don't want to wax philosophical, but that question, "Can fishing be too good?", what do you think?  A day like today prompts that question.  Because as I reflect on the morning, I barely can remember an individual fish.  I remember, chaos, one big grab after another, but honestly, the morning flew by in blur.  When I think of the day, I'll remember the arawana on a dry, the piranha for dinner, the trip through the woods to get the lagoon, but I won't remember any of those ten pound plus fish.  Just something I'm thinking about.

It's Thursday.  Thursday in the jungle means it's piranha night for dinner.  They are so delicious and you can't beat the presentation.   Very difficult to get fresh piranhas back in Iowa.  I love it here.  I think I've mentioned that before.  But I do.

Rumble in Jungle Amazon 2022 Day Five Dinosaur hunting

So, right out front, I'm going to share I felt this could possibly be the dreaded "slow day".  Even in the Amazon jungle, in the midst of a week where you are catching hundreds of fish, there is almost always a day that, well, nothing much happens.  Today, we were fishing a beat far down river.  When the water is low, it might be my favorite beat, mile after of mile of beautiful sand flats.  With the water high, we  were going to forced out of the main river channel into the lagoons, and with the sheer volume of water downriver, they were very likely to be highly stained.

The day did start out on a positive note with some receptive pre breakfast pacu.  It never gets old, as soon as one rises, you drop a small terrestrial pattern in the rings, if they don't hit it immediately, you pick up and drop on the next one.  Most days, I pick up a couple, some days I pick up a lot, this was one of those days.  One was large, and possibly a new species, still trying to figure it out.

Our run down river was well over an hour, and then we had to navigate our way through a tiny, brush filled channel.  We entered a lagoon, and then motored through this lagoon for another twenty minutes before it widened out and we began fishing.  It was very slow.  For some reason our guide posted us up eighty to ninety feet from the edge of the trees, and had us begin working them.  Maybe it was a novelty for him to have people that could throw that far?  Not sure, but by the end of the day, my arm/shoulder felt like it might actually detach from my body.

We picked up a couple of better fish in the 7-8 lb range, a few butterflies, and quite a few of a species the guides refer to as a "tawa", in other areas known as a firebelly.  They are a small peacock species, I've haven't seen one over three pounds, but interesting because they are different.  You might not come across one the whole week, but once you hit one,  you seem to find more of them and we landed about a dozen.  When I remember this day, it won't be any fish that we actually landed that stand out.  But...

                                                                                                        Tawa

There were a good number of large arapaima rolling in this lagoon, every minute or so, one would surface to gulp air.  Some were giants, literally human sized fish.  I decided to try for one.  The arapaima drill is stand at ready, and if you are lucky enough to have one surface in range, immediately drop your fly on it, let it sink, and slowly strip it back.   You have to give up the peacocks to do this, because if you make a ninety foot cast on one side of the boat for the peacocks, you can guarantee an arapaima is going to roll thirty feet from the boat just as your fly hits the water.  So, I stood, scanning the water for about 30 minutes, while Scott fished from the bow catching the occasional peacock.  And then it happened.  40 feet in front of the boat, an absolutely huge arapaima rolled, well over a hundred pounds.  I made a good cast, dropping the fly on it's head, and let it sink.  On the second strip, I came tight, hit it as a hard as could, and when the fish took off, it felt....implacable....enormous....unstoppable, all of these things.  Just the sheer weight being transmitted as this thing headed out was shocking.  It was pushing a huge bow wave, and then, it was off.  The only evidence that it had happened was the giant mud cloud hanging in the water for fifty yards.  Arapaimas mouths are extremely hard, you just have to find a soft spot, and I didn't find one.  Heartbreaking...yes.  Exciting......you bet!

Also, had a small group of red tailed cats that we spotted foraging on the edge of the lagoon.  They are impressive creatures, and I was fortunate enough to get one on my last trip.  This group was in a tough spot, right amidst the logs, and if they didn't eat the fly right away, it would surely get entangled.  I dropped a fly on them, immediately snagged a log, left it, grabbed another rod, got in a few casts, but then they were gone.  I've included a picture of the fish I got in 2020 (right before the shutdown)  It was a bucket list fish, but once I caught one, it just made me decide I want another.

                       Last years redtail

                                                        New jacunda species  C. lubigris?
                    

Slow.  But still.....not a bad day on the Agua Boa.  And I did finish it up nicely.  After arriving back at the lodge, I rigged up three weight with a small, beadhead wooly bugger, and proceeded to rack up seventeen peacocks, almost all of the spotted variety from the dock.  On one strike, the fight was just different.  Much less sheer pull then even the smaller peacocks, and then, down in the stained water I saw a fish that was bright red.  Bright red!  I was filled with curiosity about what it might be, and dread that I might lose it before I got a better look at it.  But I did land it, and turned out to be a new species of jacunda with stunning colors.  Yes, one of the days highlight fish...right off the dock.

Rumble in the Jungle, Amazon 2022 Day 4 Rising water levels are changing things!

Our guide today is Preto, who is just about everything you want in peacock guide.  He's been guiding at Agua Boa for 14 years, he's fun, cares about his clients, works hard, and has one of the prettiest beats on the river.  Some of my most action packed days have been fishing with Preto, and my wife still remembers him spotting a freshly dug turtle nest on a sandbar, flipping the boat around, and jumping out and uncovering the eggs so we could see them, before covering them back up.  Even better, one of Pretos lagoons has given up a 19 pound fish earlier in the week, the largest fish of the week!  And his client was also broken off a couple of times by large fish the same day.  So, our expectations were high as we climbed in the boat and headed upriver.

Unfortunately, last weeks heavy rains have significantly changed the river over the past couple of days.  Our first two stops were two favorites that I have fished before.  This time, however, the water was dirty, and when we did hear bigger peacocks exploding on bait, they were far back in the jungle and out of reach.  We managed a few fish in each lagoon, but it was slow going.  We did have some excitement when a large school of several dozen arawana started cruising back and forth on the bank in front of us.  I love these fish.  They are topwater oriented, great leapers once hooked, and a little mysterious in that you can't really target them, they just show up.  This was the largest school I had ever seen.  My streamer was a little large for them, but Scott had on a smaller fly, and was instantly into one.  I grabbed a six weight that I had rigged for this occasion with a large Chernoybl ant pattern, threw it out and discovered something.   The topwater quickly got their attention, but as they rose up and examined it, if you twitched it, they would spook off the fly.  If you didn't move it at all, they would hesitate, and then gently suck it in.  The takes were spectacular.  I would lose two, before managing to get the third one to the boat, Scott hooked several and landed two.

We then tried a different lagoon, which the high water had made accessible.  It took about 30 minutes to work our way up the channell and around and through the brush and trees,  including the time it took to actually cut a large limb that was blocking passage with the machete, and couple of times jumping out of the boat and pushing.  At the end, we found a beautiful lagoon, and had some action.  In an hour or so we landed 15-20 fish, Scott landed a speckled peacock pushing ten pounds and I landed a male with a huge knot on it's head that was 8 lbs or so.  

We then navigated our way back out and started working the main channel of the river.  The thought was the fish were now back in the brush, but Scott started throwing a large popper and making as much commotion as possible to see if we could draw them out.  It was a lot of casting for not much reward.  I drew a blank, Scott had two very large fish flash on the popper, but neither actually took it.  We finally  heard a huge commotion along the bank, and when I looked, I actually saw a large baitfish get tossed several feet in the air.  We hustled down there, and Scott, from the bow, tossed his popper in, I waited for a respectful millisecond, and threw my streamer in.  There were half a dozen large fish, Scott got a swing and a miss, and I was immediately tight to a nice specked or paca, which pushed the double figure mark.  That was pretty much the end of our notable action for the day.   Perhaps not what I had hoped for, but still spectacular!

Rumble The Jungle 2022 Day Three, The Lagoon of Ridiculousness

Inauspicious start today.  Our guy today was Booyah, a new guide, that I haven't fished with yet.  After a quick run down river, we stopped and worked a bank.  A few casts, a couple of nice fish, and Booyah, said, "Go back to lodge"  When I looked at him quizzically, he said, "No problem", and pointed at his side.  We went back to the lodge, and switched out guides, and headed back out.  (It turned out later that Booyah was having a stomach issue.)  Our new guide was Daniel.

The first lagoon we fished was a little non-descript, but the fishing was not.  I was on the bow, and Daniel spotted a large fish moving rapidly along the bank.  I was able to get the fly about fifteen feet in front of it, one strip, and the fish was on it.  This would be the second fish of the trip to run straight into the middle of a lagoon, and into the backing.  It turned out to be a striking male, with deep greens and oranges, that I couldn't quite capture on film, and went 15 pounds.  The fish this year are tanks!  Working our way around the lagoon, we took about 20 more fish, including a couple more that went over ten pounds.  Then we headed to the arapaima lagoon.

In Brazil, there are really two seasons, a wet season and a dry season.  During wet season, the river levels rise by over twenty feet and the fish head into the jungle to forage.  As the water levels drop, the fish head back into the main river channel, and also, many fish end up trapped in lagoons that become disconnected from the river.  The lagoon in question always seems to hold a fairly significant population of arapaima.  

We parked on the beach, and hiked back to the lagoon where another boat was stored.  I stood up in the boat and couldn't believe my eyes.  As far as you could see, butterfly peacocks in the 2 to 5 pound range, some a bit larger were laying near the surface in the sun.  Any fly that hit the water was instantly attacked.  Scott tied on a popper, picked up a six weight, and watched them fight over it.  After landing ten or so, I stopped casting to look for bigger fish.  And found some!  I hooked a large fish near the shoreline, and despite doing the best I could to put the brakes on, even grabbing the fly line with both hands, it pushed away into the jungle and tangled in the branches.  As we poled the boat over, Scott took a quick cast, and hooked a small payara, the only one we would see the entire week.  The guide jumped over the side of the boat to try to untangle the fish, the fish untangled itself and ran back into the center of the lagoon, and Scott and I ended up with a 12 pound peacock, payara double.  

Then we headed into the middle, drifting slowly, and hoping to intercept rolling arapaimas.  The drill is to look for a roller, drop the fly on the roll, let it sink, and then strip it back very slowly.  The problem on this day, was that even though flies are generally stripped back at high speeds for peacocks, there were so many peacocks in this lagoon that anything that hit the water was game on.  When I finally had an arapaima roll in range, I was able to drop the fly right in the rings, but on the very first slow pull, I came tight to a peacock, I was able to shake it off, and second one grabbed it, and than a third, and as I was lifting

 the fly out of the water, another peacock, this one a 12 to 13 pound  bomber smoked the fly right on top of the water as I was preparing to cast again.  It was just ridiculous.  Scott somehow did manage to snake a small arapaima away from the peacocks.  Even a small arapaima is a huge accomplishment in this fishery, which is not particularly known for them.  

So, almost an indescribable day.  It was the only day that I decided to count fish, and I stopped midway through the day at 65 fish.  The payara/peacock double, landing another six or so double figure fish between us, the arapaima, the large peacock that ate the fly as it was being lifted out of the water, the biggest (and most) butterfly peacocks I had ever seen in my life.  The Agua Boa.  It doesn't disappoint.

Rumble In the Jungle Amazon 2022 Day Two - Big Fish Caboclo

 

The alarm went off at 5:45 a.m., and just for a moment, I considered getting just a little more sleep.  But then I remembered where I was.  And what was about to happen.  It gets light about 6:00 a.m., and just as the sun begins to come up, the pacus, and several other species will begin to rise by the thousands in front of the lodge.  And I will be there with my three weight to greet them.  

It's not the only thing happening.  There's a hearty breakfast served at 6:00 a.m. every morning, and all the other guests typically rise to that.  But I've found out I can enjoy some pretty good fishing, roll in to breakfast late and gulp it down, and still be on the dock ready to leave by 7:15 a.m.  Today was worth it!  Landed several pacus, including this gorgeous fish.  And got cut off a couple times after spirited battled.   And no, the marking isn't blood, but looks so much like it that I tried to wipe it off when I caught my first one.  I haven't been able to determine the species, but the locals call this fish a Marie Antoinette pacu, which always makes me smile.

          Marie Antoinette pacu

I was pleased to find out that our guide today would be Caboclo. Caboclo has been guiding here for approximately 14 years.  He's a very accomplished fly caster and tyer.  And there is a reason those of us that have fished here multiple times call him, Big Fish Caboclo.  I knew that there was a very good chance I would catch my biggest fish of the week today, for two reasons.  One, Caboclo is extremely big fish focused.  It's the way he is wired and he's good at finding them.  To such an extent that I've hooked many very respectable fish that Caboclo barely glances at, in fact he doesn't acknowledge them in any way.  Also, the way Agua Boa is set up, each guide has a beat, and Cabaclo has one particular lagoon, that year in and year out, just stacks big fish.  It's almost uncanny.  So, the fact that Caboclo loves to search for big fish, and guides on the beat that typically has the largest fish is a very happy circumstance.

We spent the morning fishing a couple of lagoons (not THE lagoon), and honestly, fishing by Agua Boa standards was quite slow.  We hit a couple dozen butterfly peacocks, and few  spotted peacocks in the five to seven pound range, and then took a lunch break.  The guides here typically pull the boat up in the shade, and take a 30 minute break for lunch, some even catch a power nap.  Today, we pulled up on the edge of a deep, slow pool, and it looked a good place to catch some piranha, so I tied on a Clouser minnow and waded out.  I waded slowly, and slid my feet, so if I came into contact with a freshwater stingray, I would kick it, but not actually pin it against the bottom.  Good things, because I did blow up two stingrays as I waded.  A couple casts in my fly got hammered, and it was very apparent this was no piranha.  Mystery was solved when the biggest peacock of the morning flung itself into the air, and as it streaked by, and even larger one was keeping pace with it.  When I landed it, turned out to be around eight pounds.  I ended up catching a few more peacocks, and lost two flies to piranhas.  Was honestly a bit sad when Caboclos siesta was over and it was time to move, I was having a ball wading and fishing.  

We then headed to THE lagoon.  The water was still rising and off color from the rains.  The normal procedure here is to pole slowly, and the person on the bow casts to targets that Caboclo spots from his polling platform, but today he asked us both to blindcast into the  middle of the lagoon.  I selected a fairly large fly, an eight inch long, chartreuse over white EP pattern that I felt might stand out in the stained water.  Had a great take near the boat, unseen, and the fish, though powerful, mostly fought straight up and down, leading to some speculation about it's identity.  It turned out to a large, three barred peacock of 16.5 pounds, my best of the trip, and only slightly smaller than my best ever, a 17lb fish taken with Joseph two years ago.  Released the fish, and not ten minutes later was treated to maybe the best strike of the trip.  We were poling slowly, and I made a long cast to the middle of the lagoon.  On the retrieve, the fly swung up and behind the poling platform, and I was watching the fly intently so I could see how it was swimming.  With the fly shimmering about a foot beneath the water, a large peacock flashed past the fly, turned on it's tail and came back and absolutely garbaged it.  I couldn't give you exact dimensions, but it was obviously a special fish.  This was confirmed when it actually ran into the backing, which doesn't happen often with peacocks.  Eventually, had the fish at the boat, and it weighed in at 17 pounds.  We continued to fish the lagoon, and I landed three more fish between 10 and 13 pounds, and my fishing partner Scott, also landed several double figure fish.  

                             16.5 lbs!

                                   17 lbs!

                                                                                               

Once again, Big Fish Caboclo and his special lagoon did not disappoint.  From the lagoon, it was short run back to the dock and the tray of caipirinhas that awaited.  Another wonderful day on the Agua Boa.

Rumble In The Jungle Amazon Day One Everything Old is New Again!

                                                                 New species of pacu!

It's Saturday, the first of seven fishing days.  Despite having approximately two hours of sleep in the previous forty, when the small plane passed over the lodge for the first time, and I saw the twists and turns of the Agua Boa River, I felt a surge of adrenaline.  Within an hour, I would be casting flies into the familiar waters that I love so much.

With me on this trip is my friend, Captain Scott Hamilton.  Scott was, I believe, the first fly fishing only, blue water fishing guide, on the east coast of Florida.  He is innovative, curious, and one of the best fly casters I've met.  He also was a mentor when I was cutting my teeth in saltwater fly fishing many years ago.  This would be Scotts first trip here, and actually, his first trip as a client anywhere.  I felt a little nervous, as you typically do when you show something special to you to someone else.  Not under my control, but I really wanted the river to show out and show off!

We landed, got the customary flute of champagne, ate some breakfast, and hurried to the rooms to rig up.  I had actually pre rigged leaders when I was home, so I was down at the docks a bit before Scott.  This meant I got to do a little pacu fishing.  They rise all around the lodge dock early every morning, and there were a few still active.  I pulled out the three weight, took a couple of casts, and was instantly into a strong fish that almost ran to the backing.  Pacu on a three are no joke!  It was touch and go, and often with protracted battles, pacu, with their dentation will often cut through the leaders, but soon enough had a beautiful fish at the dock.  A new species of pacu, and a new species on fly, which makes 203!

Our guide for the day is Zenzino, also known as Joseph.  He has been guiding for 24 years, and is rumored to be Brazils first fly fishing guide.  I've caught many big fish with him, respect his knowledge, and even though he is by far the most, should we say, excitable of the guides, I was thrilled to start our day with him.  The way it works in the Agua Boa, is that you have six different guides, each with their own beat, except Joseph is kind of a rover, and can fish anywhere.  This being a shorter day, we wouldn't be traveling far, but I was a little disappointed when we literally went two minutes in the boat, cut the motor, and Joseph started poling the far bank.  In the past, I've found this stretch not to be super productive, and I was hoping maybe we were fishing it just so Joseph could see if the new guy could cast or not.  In the next few minutes, I was to learn that I really don't know anything.

The water is pretty high.  Wet season has kicked off early, the river has risen, and the classic Agua Boa sight fishing is going to be mostly reserved for the lagoons, where the water still has some clarity.  Basically, we were chucking streamers tight to the bank, and ripping them back as quickly as we could.  Just a few casts in, I had a wrenching strike, and it quickly became apparent that my first fish of the trip was going to be a good one!  Soon, I had a ten pound fish at the boat, and Scott on the bow was also hooked up.  From there, chaos ensued.  Almost every cast was a strike or a hook-up.  Small fish, medium sized fish,....big fish.  Scott lost a very large fish, that at the end of the fight, the fly simply fell out.  I had a good look at it, and was sure it was 14 pounds so.  Scott, surprisingly (he's an intense guy) took it philosophically, remarking that losing some of the big fish is part of the experience.  So grown up of him!  Sometimes losing big fish makes me a bit sulky.

We eventually came to an area where the river opened up into a lagoon.  We reeled up, and Joseph motored slowly around and through the trees and logjams, until it opened up.  Again, we're not five minutes from the lodge, and with all the authority of experience, I remarked that this lagoon was a numbers lagoon, but I had never taken a fish over six pounds here.  Yep, you know what happened.  We landed many fish over that number.

                                    Butterfly                                                                13 lbs!

I landed a 13 pound fish and an eleven pound fish.  Scott landed a 14 lb fish.  And honestly, one of the highlights were the butterfly peacocks.  The butterflies are the most beautiful of the peacocks.  Typically, they weigh 2 to 3 pounds, and anything over that is notable.  They are present in high numbers, and if you just wanted to focus on them, most days you could catch them all day.  This year...they're just bigger.  The first one I caught in the lagoon was probably pushing six pounds, and we caught many that were in the four to five pound range.  Honestly, rods were bent on hard fighting fish the majority of the time, and my fishing partner was giggling like a junior higher.  You may have heard someone say before, the fishing was so good it was ridiculous?  We had definitely climbed into the ridiculous category. 

We also landed a few of the fun by catch species, in this case most of them fairly typical.  I landed a jacunda, a kind of pike cichlid, and a piranha.  Scott landed a fish the Brazilians refer to as a dogfish, a fish with a mouthful of nasty teeth, that I've learned to avoid setting the hook on, when I see them flash on my fly.  If a person brought along a six weight and a Clouser minnow in the boat, you could be in to "other" fish all day, for sure. 

White Piranha

Jacunda

Dogfish

Butterfly

A quick note if you fish here.  It wasn't long before Scotts hands were torn and bleeding.  These fish are called peacock bass.  They're not actually bass.  Their mouths are much harder, more abrasive, and if  you keep sticking your hand in there, and the fish thrashes, your hands are going to be a mess by the end of the first day.  With the smaller fish, (under five pounds) lift them out of the water using that 40lb floro, grab them behind the head, and turn them upside down.  They will relax, making hook removal easier.  The larger fish, get a boga grip on them, you don't have to hang them from it, just use it instead of your fingers, and you can pop the hook out with the fish still in the water.  Trust me on this, or learn the hard way!

As we made our back to the lodge, we speculated on how many fish we had caught. Neither of us are really counters, but we felt conservatively, we had probably landed between seventy and eighty fish, on our "half day".  Scott remarked that he wasn't quite sure how it could get better.  But I have a feeling...

Snook: The perfect saltwater starter fish

I just want to get this out of the way.  I'm totally addicted  to salt water fishing.  I made the transition twenty years ago, and love it for so many reasons.  I'm not saying it's superior to other forms of fly fishing, because that would be making an ironclad statement about something that is completely subjective.  In the end, it's all about fun.  But here are three things saltwater fishing has going for it.

One of the best battles I've ever had from a snook...

First, the fish, as a rule, just pull harder, and battle more spectacularly than freshwater fish.  There are exceptions.  A hot chrome steelhead is a more exciting battler than a speckled trout, for example.  But just watch a tarpon video.  Or talk to someone that has watched a false albacore sizzle off a couple hundred yards of backing. 

Second, the places saltwater fish are found speak to me.  Some people love the mountains, I understand it.  But when I step on to the beach early in the morning, and watch the sunrise over the ocean, and smell the salt, and hear the pounding of the surf.....I just can never get enough of it. 

Third, the ocean is such a mysterious place, you never know exactly what is going to happen.  For the most part, on my local lakes, ponds, and trout streams, I know how  things are going to play out.  But on the ocean...it's another story.  You may see a shark the size of a small car, in fact,  said shark may relieve you of the fish you are battling.  Sea turtles, dolphins, whales may pay a visit.  Like variety?  So far, I've landed over sixty species of saltwater fish on fly...with so many more to go!

I hear a lot of fly fishers talk about venturing to the salt...someday.  Some of them have been talking about it for decades.  For my friends that talk about it and don't make it, I see a few barriers.  One is expense.  Saltwater fishing can be expensive.  The gear can be expensive, and the trips can be expensive, especially if you are staying at a lodge, or booking a guide for a week.   Second,  many people don't where to start, and often make mistakes about where to begin.  Hint....a Keys permit trip is probably not the ideal way to wet a line in the ocean for the first time.  Third, some people are concerned if their skills meet the demands of the salt. 

So, the ideal target for saltwater fishing would be a fish that encompasses all that is intriguing about the saltwater game, but also, could be pursued on the cheap, maybe fished for with equipment that many freshwater anglers already possess,  and maybe, might even be caught by the angler that can't put a fly on a paper plate at eighty feet.  (And yes, I totally understand that the more competant you are, the more fish you will catch and the better your experience will be).

Introducing the snook!  I have to remember, this is a blog post, not a book   But, I must say it, they are pretty much the perfect gamefish.  They're gorgeous.  Silver, with that jet black line down the side, and yellow fins, not gaudy, like a brook trout, or a dolphin, but beautiful,  in kind of an understated, classical way.  They get BIG!  My best on fly is 42 inches, probably between 25-27 pounds, and they get considerably bigger than that.   The way they fight is everything you could want from a gamefish.  Most of the time, you get a jump or two, they pull hard, and make you battle for every inch of line.  Some fish run further, some fish jump higher, some fish pull harder, but the snook does a little bit of everything.  They are also very inclined, unlike some species, to take flies.  I've had days when I've fished a long, hard day without a hookup, but I've had plenty of days when I've hooked double digit numbers of fish, and years ago, a friend and I had day when we landed over fifty in a morning between the two of us.

Caught this one blinding casting over a big bait pod.

They can also be fished for at minimal expense.  Have an eight weight, and a reel with a decent disk drag?  You are off to great start.  Don't have one?  A reasonable outfit can be purchased for $300 or so.  And you don't need a ticket to the Seychelles.  The best place in the world to catch snook on fly is Florida.  If you are an international reader, this may not be the case, but I can often find round trip tickets to Florida for under $200.  If I fish totally DIY, splitting a hotel with a friend,and rental car, I can fish for a week, lodging, plane ticket, rental car, meals, for under $1000, and I spend a chunk of my summer each year doing just that.

The best part?  If you have even rudimentary skills, you can catch snook on fly.  The summer, in Florida, is snook spawning season.  They spawn in the inlets, in heavy flowing water, but they don't spawn all at once, and for months, a significant number of fish are cruising the beach, hunting.  And when I say cruising the beach, they are literally a few feet off the sand, in fact, they are often right in the surge of the waves, chasing baitfish in the skinny water, moving forward and retreating with the waves.  Imagine, walking the beach, in a swimsuit, carrying your fly rod, standing about ten feet back from the water, watching intensley.  About a hundred feet away, you spot them, several large, silvery fish, casting shadows on the bottom, right in the trough, literally just a few feet off the beach.  When they are about fifty feet away, you drop a small baitfish pattern just ahead of then and beyond them, so that as you retrieve, the baitfish will pass

Sanibel Island:  The place I really learned to snook fish, and still amazing.

The view the snook fisherman gets every morning.  

a couple feet in front of them, directly in their line of sight.  As you strip, one surges forward and follows slowly, until it's almost at your feet, and then with a rush, it flares it's gills and sucks in your fly.  You strip set and the fish immediatly runs twenty feet, and then flies from the water, and your fly comes out....but it's OK, because just down the beach, you can already see your next target.  That scenario will be replayed thousands of times by fly fishers this summer.

You can have the mountains...give me this!

There are many other ways to catch snook.  In the mangroves, on the dock lights, even in the inlets with a full sinking line.  There is way more that could be said about this, and many have.  But this is just a blog.  I want you to know that saltwater fly fishing is amazing.  I want you to believe that you can be successful at it.  And I think snook are a perfect starter fish for so many reasons.  If your interest is piqued, I'd suggest  you reserach further.  There are many excellant books, Norm Zeiglers book, "Snook on the fly" is a good one to start with.  The Facebook group, Snook on the Fly, is also a great place to learn, as is the Facebook group, Snook Club, even though that group is mostly conventional guys.   Do your research, grab an eight weight, and your stripping basket, and once travel is safe again, head to Florida and give it a try.  If you do, feel free to contact me with any questions, and definitely let me know how you do!