Going, Going, Gone to Madagascar!

 

Opening day of baseball is one of my favorite days. My Fantasy teams (all three) are ready to rock. The Cubs are still contenders and life is great. But this opener is more special than ever, Granny and I are on our way to Madagascar to celebrate our 20th anniversary. How did she do it!

Yes indeed this is a fishing trip. Is there anything else? We chose Madagascar because from what I saw on web images, there are some of the most exotic looking palm covered beaches I’ve ever seen. Furthermore and most important, I Google Earthed the place and noted that the surrounding waters look to consist of flats, coral reef, channels and plenty of blue water. It looks absolutely incredible for fly fishing! And being that this tropical island is less than 1000 miles from the ever so famous saltwater fly fishing waters of the Seychelles, this could be epic!

If we travel this far, why not just go to the Seychelles? Well, it’s as simple. The Seychelles fishing packages are super expensive and winging it like Granny and I often do, is next to impossible. Madagascar however is cheap and it appears you can wing it. So off we go.

The bad news is however, research on the internet has not been all that promising. Although the blue water fishing for marlin is first class, the inshore fisheries where we can fish on our own may be dismal. The only reports we found (and very few) were that all water you can walk to has been virtually fished out. Not good news for us. However, we aren’t scared. Sometimes places get bad rap from anglers just because they don’t have the “popular game fish” such as bonefish. It can be like; an angler says his fishing stinks near his home because there’s no trout. Yet this very angler has a trophy bass lake a block from his house. Anglers can be pretty stupid sometimes.

We’ll see. I’m not too worried about catching some fish and having a great time. Our goals are feasible. Granny and I both need to see that famous cool-as-heck-rotating-eyed Chameleon. We’d like to see some lemurs. And if we’re lucky some bad-ass snakes. We also need to get some rest. A winter of constant work, shows, travel and a postponed Brazil trip have taken its toll.

Most important to me however, I want to catch five new species on the fly. I’d love one of them to be a milkfish, an Indian Ocean triggerfish or a dogtooth tuna. The other four species can be anything cool from a small colorful grouper to a new trevally species. I'd also like to get some killer photos and come home with another great PowerPoint presentation to take on the road with me next season. That’s about it.

Granny and I said goodbye to the snow at 4 AM this morning. We drove over Teton Pass and flew from Jackson, Wyoming to Salt Lake City and now we are headed to Atlanta. We have a four hour layover and tonight we board the 15 hour flight to Johannesburg, South Africa. We will overnight in Joburg then Saturday fly to Nose Be, Madagascar which is a small island on the North West side of the main island of Madagascar. From there the plan is to catch a boat for a tiny island called Sakatia and there’s a bed and breakfast type place that we will base out of for a week. From there we plan to head to the mainland and take in a National Park. Then to an island of Madagascar’s east side called Isle St. Marie. Whether I have internet access along the way is unknown. However, stay tuned. I will write about every day of the trip and post them when I can. Like other journeys that many of you have followed before, every day will e accounted for even if I have to post some when I get home.

The “Currier’s Blog” is back on track!

Jeff Currier Global Fly Fishing Website

100 Degrees and Few Bass

I was all amped up after giving my talk at Desert Fly Casters last night. It went very well and when we got back to Steve’s house at 11 pm there was no way I was going to try and sleep. Instead, Steve and I each grabbed a beer and watched a cool DVD called “Once in a Blue Moon”. It’s about the mouse hatch in New Zealand. I hit a mouse hatch in New Zealand many years ago and the DVD brought back incredible memories. We didn’t get to bed until 1 am.

It was no easy task, but we got up at 4 am to head to Bartlett Lake to chase down some bass. We were the lucky guests of Skyler Clark, a really nice kid about 22 years old. Skyler works part time at Sportsman’s Warehouse while going to college and is a friend of Steve and Cinda’s. He’s also one heck of  a bass fisherman and last Saturday his boat took 10th place out of a field of 60 in a bass tournament on Bartlett Lake.

Both Steve and I were a little groggy out of the gates this morning. Steve could hardly tie his fly on. However, once on the lake and after a few casts the body completely forgets about how tired it is and before we knew it we were concentrating on our fishing. It took me about ten minutes to realize our fishing was not going to be that good. I began by popping the shallows. It was great looking water but not even a small largemouth stirred. Steve was dredging streamers on a sinking line and Skyler was using his bait caster with all the right lures – but nothing. I think the field of 60 competitive bass anglers last weekend really educated the bass.

Despite the lake being full of bass, Steve and I landed four bass on the fly and Skyler landed about a dozen while using every trick he knew with his bait caster. It was slow to say the least. And the biggest bass were a couple of 14 inchers that Skyler dredged up. Not exactly the hawgs we were hoping for. Nonetheless it was a gorgeous morning on a spectacular desert setting. But at noon we reeled in and made a dash for some carp lakes. Skyler had never caught a grass carp and Steve and I knew we could probably put him on one.

We didn’t have a lot of time for carping because we had dinner plans at Eddie’s House. By the time we fought our way through the Phoenix Arizona traffic and arrived at the urban lakes we had an hour to fish. It was calm and a scorching 100º! Both Steve and I knew although miserable for us, the grassies would be feeding. We split up and started beating on some fish. I got my grassie the other day so I rigged a nymph and hammered away on some nice koi. I even caught what appears to be a giant goldfish. It’s definitely not a normal koi because of its long draping fins.

At the end of our hour Steve, Skyler and I met on a school of grass carp that were feeding vigorously. I was taking some photos of them and Skyler made a cast. Most of these grassies refused the offering but the last one in the rear of the school couldn’t resist. Skyler watched the grassie indulge his fly and set the hook perfectly. Five minutes later, Skyler had his first grass carp.

Tonight Steve, Cinda and I had a scrumptious dinner at Eddie’s House. Chef Eddie Matney is a great friend of ours. Eddie fly fishes like crazy and therefore Steve and Cinda have known him for years. I met Eddie in Jackson Hole with Chef Michael DelMaria whom we had dinner with on Tuesday night. Chef Eddie fishes the Jackson Hole One Fly Contest every year. This year Eddie led his team to a top ten finish by scoring 9th among all individual contestants. Not an easy thing to do when you consider there are over 160 individual contestants. Eddie’s House is located in Scottsdale on Indian School Rd. Every course of our meal was phenomenal to say the least and I highly recommend a visit to Eddie’s House if you have the chance.

The warm weather fishing is over for me for a couple weeks. I’ll be leaving Arizona early tomorrow morning fat and happy and ready to play with my local trout. Expect a few good stories from my neighborhood but the big news is I’m off to Africa in less than two weeks to chase a subspecies of tigerfish that was discovered in 2008. I will be part of the latest Confluence Film project hosted by Tourette Fishing in Tanzania. More on this trip to come in the next few days.

Jeff Currier Global Fly Fishing web site

One Huge Rainbow, One Huge Patch of Weeds

October 1, 2010

I worked in a fly shop for twenty-three years. Most of my fellow employees worked a season or two to experience Jackson Hole Wyoming then moved on with their lives. If you add it up, I probably worked with over 100 different people during my time. Amazingly, I’m still good friends and keep in touch with more than half of these great people. Most of them are “grownups” and have families and don’t spend much time fly fishing anymore. However, when they make it through Jackson, we always try to squeeze in a day of fishing together. This week Chris Reinking of Atlanta, Georgia was in range and we met at the Harriman Ranch on the Henry’s Fork. Reinking worked for me during approximately 1997-1999.

Chris fished with another former employee of mine, Mike Patron (now from Bozeman Montana), on Monday. They fished on the upper Ranch just below the log jam and although they caught small fish, the big ones that bring you to the Ranch weren’t around. I’d had slow fishing on the upper Ranch last month so we decided to try mid Ranch and access it through what it called the Mail Box.

Whenever you fish the Ranch look forward to more than just fishing. Usually in the fall you hear bugling elk and expect a moose or two to cross the river while you cast to a fish. Today we had not only that but we ran into some cowboys herding cattle. Reinking and I were rigging our rods at our cars when we heard a stampede heading our way from the forest behind us. We kept a watchful eye and sure enough out came hundreds of head of cow fleeing from six cowboys on horseback. What appeared like total chaos to Chris and I was completely organized by the skilled wranglers. One cowboy left the pack and bravely stopped traffic on the busy Route 20. Then in less than five minutes they forced every single cow through the tight Mail Box entrance to the Railroad Ranch.

Needless to say it was a dusty walk to the river through the noise of hundreds of mooing cows. It was hotter than a normal day in August and there wasn’t an ounce of wind. This has been the hottest fall I can remember. When we got to Cattleman’s Bridge we opted to cross and walk downstream to where I saw several big fish way back in June during my Marathon. We grabbed a seat in the tall dying grass and observed while we caught upon the happenings in our lives. Slowly, the Henry’s Fork came to life. First just a couple Mahogany Duns appeared. Then before we knew it there was a steady flow of them. I love the Mahogany dun hatch because they are easy to see. After months of tiny PMD’s and Trico’s down to size 22, Mahogany Duns seem huge.

Numerous small rainbows began to rise. Then the occasional medium size rainbow showed and disappeared. A medium size rainbow in the Ranch is in the 14” to 16” range. While a great fish, on the Ranch I rarely get up to cast until I spot a fish that I think is 18” or over. Reinking said screw it. He doesn’t have time to watch a bunch of fish rise and he wandered out and set up on some medium size trout. Finally, I couldn’t stand it anymore either. I was just about to make my first cast with my CDC  Mahogany Dun when out the corner of my eye I saw a huge head break the surface on the far bank. Then I saw the fish again. I could tell from the size of his nose and the push of water he created when he rose that this was the fish I was here for. The massive rainbow was slowly moving upstream feeding on every dun that drifted his way.

I waded right over the top of the medium sized fish I was going to fish too. Many times on the Ranch, these big fish feed aggressively for a few minutes then disappear. I wasn’t waiting around. I wanted to make my first cast on him within the minute. I came within inches of flooding my waders twice before I was in position to make a cast. Once there I delicately placed a cast upstream to him with my 4-weight Ross. Casting upstream over the top of a rising fish is risky business. You must have a long leader. My typical Ranch leader in the fall is nearly 18-feet long! And you never want to cast so far that your fly line goes over the trout. While a delicate leader usually goes unnoticed, even the light weight of the tip of my Rio Double Taper Trout LT line can be enough to send the trout running.

My first cast was on the money and I collected the slack from my leader as my fly drifted towards me. I knew the large rainbow was looking. Then I saw the water below my fly displace and as I took a deep breath expecting the trout to break the surface and eat my fly, he refused it. S . . . I thought to myself! Not only did he refuse my fly but I didn’t have another on me to change to. My flies were on shore in my pack all the way across the river where Chris and I were hanging out. If I took the time to go back and get them, surely this trout would be gone. I had no choice but to keep presenting and hope I could force feed this selective giant. Over and over I dropped my fly while the fish dodged it and rose to every natural that went by. It was unnerving being so close to this hungry brute with the wrong fly. I was just losing hope when he refused my fly again. This means he’s still thinking about it and if you keep up what you’re doing the trout eventually gives in. I knew it was just a matter of time. Sure enough, twenty casts more and our standoff ended when he gently sipped my fly.

My tippet was a mere 6X. Thank goodness Rio 6X Powerflex is a heck of a lot stronger than tippet was in the past. Still, rather than a violent hook set, all I had to do was raise my rod and the game was on. At first the rainbow thrashed and made some short runs. That lasted about 30 seconds before he was off and running upstream. The biggest fear now is getting broke off in the weeds. Like most spring creeks, the bottom of the Ranch is an entanglement of vegetation. Fighting trout love to go under weed beds and out the other side and then the same in the next patch. Your fly line and leader have no choice but to follow. Usually you get tangled and the trout breaks you off. This fish was unwisely staying high in the water column. As he charged upstream I followed keeping as close as I could. Finally he used the weeds to his advantage and everything stopped. Somehow I felt he was still on. I was sure the trout himself was buried in the weeds. I reeled and waded to exactly where he was. There was my leader and tippet leading right into a thick patch of weeds. I reeled to within a foot of my leader butt and stuck my foot in the weeds  where my tippet led. He was there. While creating slight pressure by pulling the leader by hand and shuffling my feet in the weeds at the same time, out came the monster rainbow. He was easily 20 inches and he was tired. I let go of my leader and lifted my rod tip to bring the trout to the surface where I intended to tail him. That’s when he let out one last surge. This time I wasn’t so lucky. The amazing rainbow that I could have touched seconds ago took off down stream and through the weeds again, this time he broke me off. Dang!

It would have been nice to have a photo of the rainbow trout of the year up on the blog today, but it doesn’t always work out that way. Although I came close, the usual happened and I got weeded before I could celebrate. Reinking was just heading my way with his camera in hand when he stopped to hear my words of dissatisfaction. Then I followed those ear  burners by shouting, “Beer Break”. No matter how the fishing is there’s nothing better then time with old friends. Chris had his own chance at a nice fish later but he too lost the battle. We each caught a handful of little guys and at sunset we headed for Trout Hunter for dinner and beer. No fishing for a few days, it’s time to get some work done.

Jeff Currier Global Fly Fishing web site

Big Ugly Trout Need Love Too

Dede and Barb have been fly fishing in the Jackson Hole area since the 70’s. I met them as a young buck working in the Jack Dennis Fly Shop in Jackson, Wyoming in 1987. They came in the shop, asked me some questions and quizzed me hard. I was the new kid in town. Fortunately I knew enough that they accepted me and we’ve been friends ever since. For years we never fished together. It’s typical if you work in a fly shop. Your customers become friends but you rarely ever fish with them. It’s because you never have time to fish with all your customer/friends. There’s so many of them and you only have a couple days off a week. But sometimes it works out. Luckily ten years ago it worked out that Granny and I fished with Dede and Barb on one of their secret waters. We had so much fun that we fish together at least once a year ever since.

Kubswin Lake isn’t really one of Dede and Barbs secrets. Anyone who chases big trout about knows Kubswin has some of the largest browns in the entire west, but because it’s a lake they rarely go there. When they go, it’s usually a one time thing because they get skunked. These trout are very hard to catch and as a rule anglers walk away shaking their heads wondering if the lake has any fish in it at all. Granny and I and Dede and Barb have certainly had these days. Nonetheless, that’s where we spent Tuesday and Wednesday

Monday night Granny and I drove to stay and have dinner at Dede and Barbs. These gals take great care of us when we stay over. We brought down some steaks and wine and they cooked it all up with some fresh veggies. Morning came fast and after  some quick coffees we drove to the lake. The weather continues to be as good as you could ask for. Despite Kubswin sitting at over 7,000 ft there was little to no wind and temps reached 80º each day. When we arrived at Kubswin it was almost calm. This sounds good to a rookie lake angler but the truth of the matter is that trout are so spooky under a placid lake that when your cast hits the water all nearby trout retreat to the deep. They think and eagle or an osprey is diving for them. I ran into this repeatedly when I was walking the shoreline and casting to cruisers. All but one took off just from seeing my fly line in the air. The one that stayed around followed and refused my fly.

We all spend more time fly fishing on lakes than the average trout fly fisher and we each have rigs and vests we only take to lakes. My rod of choice is my 6-weight Ross Essence FC. To match that rod I use the Ross Airius Reel and I have five spools to go with. Each spool has a different Rio fly line. There’s a floater, Midge Tip, Intermediate sink, Slow Sink (Type 3), and a Fast Sink (Deep 7). With those I can cover top to bottom of most lakes simply by changing spools. The line I use the most often is the Intermediate which in Rio lines is called the Aqualux.

We each carry a wide range of flies. Most of your once a year lake fly fishers simply pound away with various streamer patterns. Streamers definitely provide some success but I find that most of my catches  are made by patiently sight casting to risers with dry flies or slowly twitching nymph and midge patterns just below the surface. The speed and way you move your flies makes all the difference in the world. Lake fly fishing is extremely challenging and if you haven’t fished them much there’s lots to learn. I enjoy the challenges lakes present me with and especially the chance at catching huge trout. I also find them rarely crowded like many of our best rivers.

It wasn’t until about 1 pm on Tuesday that one of us hooked up. I was daydreaming while retrieving each cast and chatting away with Dede. Then she hooked up. It was obviously a big fish because her reel sang as the beast headed for the middle of the lake. Barb and I reeled in while Granny, who opted  to observe this weekend, came running with the camera. The fight lasted a good five minutes before she netted an obese 23” brown. Fat probably wasn’t the best word to describe this enormous trout. This amazing brown trout was an absolute monster and a perfect example as to why we like the challenge of lake fishing. And rather than eating a huge streamer, this brown ate one of Dede’s small nymphs while she was doing a very slow strip down near the bottom.

Our fishing remained slow both days but was very rewarding. We only landed a total of five fish, but the smallest was 17 inches. Dede caught four of these and three of them were over 20 inches. All the ones over 20 inches were impressive to say the least. One was impressive not only because of his size, but he was one of the ugliest big browns I’ve ever seen! His bottom jaw protruded so far out past his upper it was ridiculous. It’s a wonder he could even eat with this obscurely shaped mouth.

I only landed one but he too was a monster. This brown trout ate an olive bead head leech late in the day  and schooled me out into the lake. I rarely need backing when trout fishing but this fish required about thirty feet of it! It was another great weekend. Next for me will be back to the Harriman Ranch on the Henry’s Fork for the last of the Mahogany Dun hatch.

Our fishing remained slow both days but was very rewarding. We only landed a total of five fish, but the smallest was 17 inches. Dede caught four of these and three of them were over 20 inches. All the ones over 20 inches were impressive to say the least. One was impressive not only because of his size, but he was one of the ugliest big browns I’ve ever seen! His bottom jaw protruded so far out past his upper it was ridiculous. It’s a wonder he could even eat  with this obscurely shaped mouth.

I only landed one but he too was a monster. This brown ate an olive bead head leech late in the day and schooled me out into the lake. I rarely need backing when trout fishing but this fish required about thirty feet of it! It was another great weekend. Next for me will be back to the Ranch on the Henrys Fork for the last of the Mahogany Dun hatch.

as ridiculous. It’s a wonder he could even eat with this obscurely shaped mouth.

Jeff Currier Global Fly Fishing web site

Nothing but Yellow Belly

September 26, 2010

What a September! Today was in the 80ºs. The sky was cloudless and there wasn’t an ounce of wind all day. The willows, aspens and cottonwood trees are glowing with gold and the hillsides are vibrant red from the wild roses, mountain maples and hawthorns. Hardly a single turned leaf has fallen yet. September is truly the best time of year in the Yellowstone area and this year we are having the best of the best.

Today I floated the Moose to Wilson section of the Snake River in Jackson Hole Wyoming with Gary Eckman and Cooper. Cooper you should remember from previous blogs is Gary Eckman’s fourteen year old son that has become quite a proficient fly fisher. We got an early start today of about 8 am. Right now, 8 am is about sunrise here. It should have been freezing cold but instead it was a balmy 50 degrees. We all wet waded from start to finish.

Fishing started surprisingly slow despite the seemingly perfect conditions. I rowed the first hour while Cooper practiced his streamer fishing and Gary plopped an ant pattern along the banks. Other than a follow on the streamer and a small swirl behind the ant the cutthroats were asleep. Wildlife always seems to make up for lack of fish. We saw a gigantic bull moose tearing up some willows, a mule deer and her nearly full grown fawn, numerous elk, eagles and a long tail weasel along the banks as we drifted. Just to spice things up even more we floated into the famous “Bourbon Channel”. I’m not a big fan of the channel as it is one if you are the oarsman you row and that’s it. You can’t relax and enjoy your surroundings for even a split second or you’ll sink the boat. The Bourbon Channel is small and winding. The water moves fast and there are boat flipping snags and debris every inch of the way. It’s probably one of the most treacherous sections of all the Snake River. Take your eyes off what’s ahead of you for a second and your life is in danger.

We successfully navigated through even the most hair-raising mazes of the channel. There was no doubt that my workout for the day was complete. Once we got back to the main river the fishing turned on. It could have been the time of day but I think it was the slower water. This time of year the Snake River cuttys like a steady flow along a rocky ledges and the drop-offs just below riffles. There were plenty of bugs hatching. This late summer weather continues to deliver PMD’s. It’s late for PMD’s but we saw some. Then there were numerous Mahogany Duns and the occasional Snake Drakes, a large mayfly about a size 12. Fish began to rise and we all fished dry flies for the remainder of the day.

Today’s highlight, was watching Cooper catch his biggest fish ever on a dry fly on the Snake. The catch occurred during a time when he was getting a little distracted. The Snake River has one of the best sucker populations you can imagine. If you look into the water from the front of the boat while drifting you notice huge fish moving along the bottom all day long. While many anglers freak out thinking they are all huge trout, most of us know that most of these fish are actually suckers. Naturally, the fact that they are so much bigger than most trout in the river, Cooper wants to catch one bad. And while he should be carefully mending and watching his drifting dry fly, he’s often in a trance staring into the water ahead of the boat. I always watch his drifting fly and find myself constantly telling him to mend, dry your fly, recast and when we are lucky, set the hook. I must sound like a broken record.

Fortunately for us, not the cutthroat, Cooper was watching his fly when a big yellow belly slowly elevated from bottom to the surface and ate his Mahogany Wulff. You could see that this was a big trout and somehow Cooper kept his cool and set the hook on him like a pro. But once the fish was on, Cooper got very nervous. Now he truly knew how big this trout was and like any kid he wanted this fish in the net. He wisely asked for advice on the best way to get him there. Gary and I were thrilled and did our best of coaching Cooper through the event. He handled it beautifully and a few minutes after hook up I netted Cooper’s gorgeous cutthroat trout.

It was another great day on the Snake River in Jackson Hole Wyoming. Cooper relished in his success for an hour or so before going on a full time sucker hunt. Gary and I  enjoyed the weather and scenery and took turns fishing and rowing. We caught plenty of fish but today was by no means as good as it has been in previous weeks. As much as I’m not ready for it, what we really need to trigger our fall fishing is fall weather. Next on the agenda Granny and I will be chasing some big browns and brookies on some secret lakes. Stay tuned . . .

Jeff Currier Global Fly Fishing web site

The Grind

September 12, 2010

Day 2 in the Jackson Hole One Fly is where you need to make things happen. With our team in 2nd place we wanted to make the move forward and win the One Fly. Realistically, all each of us needed to do was have a slightly above average day. This sounds easy, but isn’t. Out of four anglers one could simply lose their fly, pick the wrong fly or just plain and simple, have an off day. I had pressure on me to perform. I drew the South Fork and it typically produces higher scores. While average on the Snake River is about 250 points, average on the South Fork is about 350 points. I really needed to make sure and break 400.

Deciding what fly to use was difficult again. Originally I planned to fish a streamer, but streamers are risky. Indeed the streamer paid off yesterday, but risk wasn’t such a factor as our team wasn’t in 2nd place yesterday. You can easily snag a streamer on unseen sunken tree branches or a rock and your fly is gone. The other thing about streamers is that when the fish aren’t on them, you could get skunked. Either way, if I didn’t come back today with a full card I’d hurt the team.

I arrived at the South Fork Lodge for breakfast at 6:15 am. This is where our guides and boat mates meet up for the South Fork. I had breakfast with good friend Mike Lawson. Mike too was in the One Fly and was also spinning about what fly to use. He also scored well on the Snake River yesterday and knew a good South Fork score would help his team and perhaps move him into high individual standings. Taking the pressure off us, we both decided we’d leave our fly choice up to our guide.

When my fly fishing guide Mike Bean arrived at the breakfast table he didn’t exactly tell me what fly to use. He too was torn. He’s seen me hammer fish on streamers and would do anything to see it today, but today the weather was crisp and clear and temperatures were expected to reach 77º. Streamer fishing on the South Fork can be slow I such conditions. With a small Pale Morning Dun dry fly he was sure I could fill my measured fish card. That is if I could keep the fly all day without losing it and hope that it didn’t fall apart. Both are major concerns with a small fly. Then we met my boat mate Scott. Scott was set on fishing a small dry fly. That was it; I too would go with a size 18 Pale Moring Dun Parachute Cripple.

Mike Bean is one of the best South Fork River guides and he had a plan. He pushed us away from the Spring Creek Boat Ramp at 8:15 and rowed like a mad man so that we would be in a good dry fly spot at exactly 8:30. Like yesterday, it was cold as heck and thick frost blanketed everything. When we got to Mike’s spot it was too cold. Not a fish stirred and even blind casting to where we knew fish lived did not entice a rise.

Fortunately, as the sun rose so did the thermometers. Today was going to be another September day of dreams. Scott and I simply had to be patient with our small flies. If the trout weren’t awake yet there was no sense in casting them to the banks and risk loss and add unnecessary wear and tear. With the exception of a few riffles we relaxed, held our flies and waited for the first insects to hatch.

It took longer then we expected. At 10:30 neither of us had one point on our score cards. There were no bugs and no rising fish. It was plenty warm enough by now. I was in shorts and a t-shirt and I was hot. Where were the fish? Mike remained cool and rowed us to his next spot. Sure enough there was our first  rising fish of the day. Scott and I were rotating the front of the boat each hour and it happened to be my turn. I studied the fish’s rises for a minute then delicately landed my cast. My presentation was poor compared to a normal day. The reason being that I was attempting to fish my tiny dry fly on 2X Rio Powerflex Tippet. On any normal day of fishing I’d have a size 18 dry fly attached to 4X or perhaps even 5X. But this was the One Fly Contest; I wasn’t going to risk fishing with a light tippet this early in the day. I flipped a couple mends in my fly line to help my stiff looking fly along and to my delight up came a gorgeous Yellowstone Cutthroat to consume it. I set the hook and like a normal day in paradise the fish was on and I brought the 16” trout to the net. Yes, I had my first fish of the day.

I was set to measure the trout. He was easily 16 inches and would score me 60 points, but Mike had bigger fish in mind. Somehow he talked me out of measuring the fish and accepting him as a mere 2 pointer. Wow! I was hesitant, but I picked the fish from the net and released him without measuring him. Then I plucked my fly up from the net and was just about to drop it and roll cast it out again to start fishing when I saw my PMD was not attached to my leader. My tippet had broken in the net! My heart dropped and a feeling of near disaster overtook me. When I told Mike what happened he nearly went into shock too.

I had work to do. Somehow I damaged my tippet earlier in the morning and didn’t know it. I cut the entire piece off and carefully tied on another with a triple surgeons knot. It took much longer than normal as my hands were shaking. Then I leaned back in my chair with my fly tightly clenched in my left hand and took a breather while Scott made some casts to some more rising fish. That was a close call.

Ten minutes went by and Scott wasn’t getting it done. Several fish rose to his fly but he missed each one. Mike asked me if I was finally ready. I was still rattled, but I made my cast and quickly hooked up. I landed another gorgeous 16” cutty. And once again, Mike talked me into taking him as a mere 2 point fish. I was a little uneasy letting these 16 inchers go without measuring them for bonus points. I knew all I needed was 400 points to help my team. What if now after I let these guys go I didn’t fill my card, or worse, lost my fly?

I missed the next three quality fish that ate my fly. It seemed my luck was taking a turn for the worst. It was after 11 when finally I hooked up again. Although I was relieved, this wasn’t a gentle fighting cutthroat but rather a scrappy rainbow. The bow leaped twice and then took off for the middle of the river and dove for bottom. I had little control. I knew he was down deep looking for trees to snag me on and rocks to grind my tippet against. It was really gut wrenching. At last, the fish gave in and Mike netted the rainbow. Enough is enough I said to Mike, measure that fish. I was just too uncomfortable without a bonus point fish on the board. He measured the rainbow and sure enough he was 16 inches on the nose.

I continued to miss fish but managed to pick up two more bonus point trout so that by 1:00 I had two 16 inchers and a 17 incher on the measure card along with several two point fish. I had three more hours to reach 400 points. Unfortunately Scott still sported a zero. He just wasn’t connecting at all. When Scott returned to the front of the boat Mike worked hard by coaching him while he fished to a pod of risers. It went on for fifteen minutes or so while I patiently watched from the back of the boat. It just wasn’t happening for Scott. Then in one swift move Mike spun the boat and said Jeff take a shot. I whirled a false cast straight up in the air as not to hook anything in the boat and as I went forward I felt my fly burry into  something high above us. It was a cedar tree branch dangling a good 30-feet above the river. Disaster had struck.

As the three of us tracked my fly line and leader up to the cedar branch there was dead silence. It was worse than initially thought. The branch was a snarled mess of twigs and needles high above the boat. You could follow my leader with your eyes but the fly was buried out of sight. By now Mike had the anchor dropped and was heading up the bank as if to just climb the tree and undo the mess. But it wasn’t so easy. This was a big tree extending off a cliff like bank and the first branch to grab for climbing was 10-feet up.

I handed my rod to Scott and headed up to the base of the tree where a bewildered Mike Bean stood with a very sad look on his face. I simply asked him for ten fingers and up I went to where I could grab that first branch. Using complete adrenaline, I swung my legs up and started to wiggle my way through closely knit branches high into the tree. Once I thought I was at the branch my fly was on, I asked Scott to pull tight to my fly. Soon I was scaling my way out over the river on this branch. But there was no way. I was out as far as I dared. The branch dipped down and swayed side to side as if it were about to snap. If the branch broke from under me I’d fall 30-feet onto jagged river rock. All I could see was my 2X Rio Tippet tightly wound and snagged deep in a cluster of branches about 8-feet from my reach. I was absolutely screwed.

Our first move was to try to reach it with the net. Mike threw it up to me and even it got tangled in the branches. This was not the tree to mess with. At last I got it and pushed it towards the end of the branch where my fly was. It was a useless operation. As I sat there uncomfortably and discouraged as you could be, I gazed at the anchor rope in the boat below me. That was it. If it was long enough I could tie it to this branch and from the ground we could pull on it until it snapped. It was a long shot, but the only shot.

Mike and Scott had to be shaking their heads by now, but Mike went through the trouble to disconnect his anchor. I hung like a monkey from my knees and Mike threw me the rope. I wrapped it around the branch so we had two ends of the rope to pull on and our last hope was underway. I climbed down and stood in the boat with my rod while Mike, a good sized man, pulled the rope. At first the branch was like a rubber band, it just wouldn’t break. Mike was actually getting tired of bouncing on that rope. Then without any hint at all the entire 300lb branch came crashing down on Mike and I. Once we realized no one was hurt we cheered and laughed. We had made a historic fly rescue.

My fly still wasn’t easy to find. It was tangled in there so bad that we never could have retrieved it by pulling my tippet. I was drained. I was scratched up, stressed out and plopped in the back of the boat and drank a beer. Now I had less than two hours to catch at least three more measurable fish. And poor Scott still hadn’t caught a single fish. Worst of all the trickle of a hatch we had earlier was all but gone. Things were ugly.

I felt terrible that I put my boat mates through such drama. I drank another beer and just sat and watched as Scott drifted his PMD along the bank while Mike back rowed. I wanted to fish but Scott needed to catch one first. There were absolutely no randomly rising trout. About then Scott buried his fly in the back of my neck. I let out a yelp. I don’t care what you say; even a small fly in the neck hurts. The One Fly is a barbless tournament so I reached up and carefully grabbed it and attempted to jerk it out. Unfortunately the flattened barb wasn’t flattened all the way and the skin on my neck stretched out an inch and snapped back putting the fly deeper into my neck. It was in there good. Scott felt terrible. I told him no big deal and Mike pulled over and with his forceps made a nice clean rip and the fly was out. Mike said it was time to check on his pets so while I soaked up a little blood with my t-shirt off we went to the cliffs of the South Fork Canyon.

There’s always a few cooperative fish at the cliffs. Scott tucked a cast into the first cave and wham, he had his first fish of the day and it was 15”. I was glad to see Scott on the board. As they measured I snuck my own cast back in the cave and I landed a 17” cutthroat. Things were looking up again. I only needed two more fish of 16 inches to rally for 400 points.

Let’s just say the last hour was a grind. Scott all but gave up on the day. It was hot. There was no hatch. Most of Mike’s pets were hiding. Things were bleak. I felt I didn’t deserve it, but Scott gave me the front of the boat again. For the last 45 minutes or so I made risky cast after risky cast. Sometimes I tossed my tiny PMD against the willows in fast water while other times I side armed so far back under trees that if I got hung we’d never find the fly. And it paid off. I went on to fill my card and my measurables included three 16” and three 17” trout. I also had sixteen two pointers and by miracle, kept my fly for another 25 point bonus. It was one of the toughest competition days I can remember but I grinded out 460 crucial points.

My poor boat mate landed only one fish. He wasn’t alone. Although there were a few fantastic scores on some fancy ant, many on the stretch did not fill their cards. This included Mike Lawson who hooked and lost a nice fish in the last minutes of the contest. When I arrived in Jackson after my near two hour drive from the South Fork Canyon, the scores were in. The Good Times Team had dropped to fourth place. Gary lost his fly before catching a fish today and our other anglers had a tough day. There was some good news though. Gary’s big 23 ½” brown from Day 1 earned him the big fish trophy and my grind of both days earned me third place individual. All our practice earned us something. It was a great One Fly and next year perhaps we can take the next step and the Good Times Team can win it all.

Jeff Currier Global Fly Fishing web site

A Good Start for the Good Times Team

September 11, 2010

While many fly fishermen still don’t like the sounds of competition fly fishing, I personally love it. I love when every fish has meaning and I love a day on the water when someone is keeping score. It’s an adrenaline rush that I used to thrive on when competing in the World Fly Fishing Championships. While the Jackson Hole One Fly Contest is not nearly as demanding as World Competition, it is competition nonetheless. And the Good Times Team is in it to win.

I awoke at 4:30 am without and alarm and meticulously went over my gear one last time. My stuff was ready three days ago but I just wanted to be sure. At 5:30 Rob Parkins picked me up and off we went to breakfast at the Gun Barrel Restaurant where the guides pick up all contestants for the day. I wolfed down a heap of food knowing there would be little time to eat lunch during the days contest. Then I met up with the competitor I fish against in my boat (It happens to be long time friend Joe Debryan) and our guide Charles Kempe and off we went to the Wilson Bridge Boat Launch.

The way the One Fly Contest works is each angler draws a random stretch of river and floats it with a randomly drawn guide and a person from another team. There are about 40 teams of four anglers each. Therefore there are 160 anglers spread out all over. The guide is the judge and measures and counts the fish caught. Every fish you catch is worth 2 points. It doesn’t matter if he’s 2 inches or 20 inches. He’s two points. Then, you are allowed to measure eight fish, six of which earn you bonus points. How many bonus points depend on the size of your eight measured fish. For instance a 12” trout is worth 10 points while a 16” fish is worth 60 points. Measured fish must be over 12”s and although it sounds easy to catch eight fish over 12”s, you would be surprised how many anglers don’t. If you don’t measure at least six, your score will be low.

Anyway, Joe, Charles and I had planned our attack on Thursday night at the cocktail party once we knew we drew each other. Even though Joe and I are competing for our own teams, it’s still advantageous to work together and fish similar flies. Per our discussion with Charles, we were set on making our one fly choice a dry fly. However, last night at the One Fly Dinner, I heard that the dries didn’t do so well yesterday on our stretch so I started considering a streamer. Now if one guy streamer fishes and the other dry fly fishes than each angler is hindered by the other. In other words I had to get Joe to do the same or stick to the dry. We discussed it and although Joe was a little reluctant, being the good guy that he is, he said he’d do it.

Our guide Charles Kempe wasn’t there last night so this morning we caught him by surprise when we told him we decided against the dry fly and were going with streamers. He had tied us each a bomb proof dry fly to use today. However he too knew the dry’s fished mediocre at best yesterday and was excited at the thought of a streamer. It was a done deal. I fished an olive weighted eyeballed streamer tied by Scott Sanchez and Joe fished his concoction that was browner in color.

It was cold as heck at the boat ramp at 8 am. There was a thick frost formed by the fog lifting off the Snake with the sunrise. It was going to be awhile before the cutthroats woke up. At 8:30 the tournament started and Charles pushed us off. Knowing the fish may not be eating yet, Joe and I each fished conservatively, not wanting to risk losing our one fly. Then at about 9:15 Joe landed a 14 incher. He wisely had Charles measure it and Joe was on the board. Joe went on to measure a 12 incher at about 10:30 yet I still didn’t have a fish. I hadn’t even rolled one yet and although there was plenty of time left (we fish until 4:30) I was ready for my first. Then finally I got one that was 15 inches at 10:40.

Our fishing improved as the day went on. Things warmed up considerably and soon it was one of those spectacular September days that Jackson Hole Wyoming is famous for. The sky was blue, the temps were around 70º and the Tetons were gleaming over the valley. Best of all, by noon, Joe and I each had four measured fish. I was very lucky in that one of mine was 17 inches and one was 18 inches long. It was obvious the streamer was the correct choice. There was little to no hatch occurring and we talked with competitors fishing dries from other boats and they weren’t doing well.

By 4:30 Joe and I each filled our measured fish cards and had a pile of 2 point fish to go with it. Our scores were excellent for that stretch of river. Joe scored around 380 points and I scored 450 points. Compared to most others, we were top scorers on Wilson to South Park. When I got back to the Gun Barrel Restaurant for dinner to catch up with my teammates, I found that everyone did well. Best of all, Gary Eckman, who was on the South Fork River today, caught a 24 inch brown. That trout alone earned him 300 points! He managed three other measurable trout and he scored over 500 points. With all our success today we are excited to say we are in 2nd place. Gary is in the top ten for individuals and I am in the top twenty. Best of all for me, I have the South Fork of the Snake River with Mike Bean tomorrow. I should be able to at least score another 400 points that should lift my standings and keep our team in the running. Things are good!

Sorry there are not more photos but you can’t put down the rod in competition too often. I can tell you there is a picture of Gary’s big 24” brown. I will get it posted as soon as I get the photo from Gary.

Jeff Currier Global Fly Fishing web site