Small Pike & Big Whitefish

June 3 – 5, 2010

There were no complaints about the incredible first day of fishing we had on Pagato Lake. I have never caught so many quality walleye on the fly in a day. In fact, during our next three days on Pagato, I’ll bet I landed sixty or more! However, this trip is meant to be a hunt for big pike.

By the end of day three on Pagato we had fished every river and creek mouth, every shallow bay, windward points, down deep, different flies, you name it, but the end result was a few pike just over thirty inches with hundreds under twenty-five inches. Where are the big pike?

Our outfitter claims they are here. Could it be like Flat Creek in Jackson, WY? A place that swarms with big Snake River Cutthroats yet somehow I’d send an angler there from the fly shop and they wouldn’t see a one. Then they would come back in and say I was crazy. No. This was different. Our four man team consists of good anglers all experienced with fly fishing for pike. We should be able to find them. Shouldn’t we?

Luckily, when struggling to succeed in one area you often succeed in another accidentally. One such highlighted event involved finding a rare opportunity to catch lake whitefish on a fly. For those Rocky Mountain anglers that think a whitefish is a whitefish, try again. There are several different species. The one found in Rocky Mountain streams is the mountain whitefish and is usually easy to catch. But lake whitefish are far more difficult. The main reason is because they spend much of their lives down deep in lakes. Because it is early season here in northern Saskatchewan, we found them in the Pagato River one mile downstream from the lake. To be exact, Bill and Steve where exploring the river for big pike and came around a corner and fish were rising everywhere. They were dumbfounded because the literature for fishing on this lake doesn’t even mention whitefish. Boy are they missing out!

Not expecting a small dry fly situation during this trip, Bill and Steve barely managed to scrape up two small dry flies between them. Then they took Bills 9-weight and a floating line and tied on eight feet of 2X tippet. It wasn’t easy to thread the small dry fly but once they did they were rigged the best they could be. During the next two hours they managed to scrape up three whitefish on the tiny dry while fishing it submerged. Then, because they are great guys, they came and found Chris and I and gave us the 9-weight set up and led us in to catch a few.

Chris and I couldn’t have missed the place. There were rises everywhere. I guarantee with a 4-weight, a nice long 4X leader and some good flies we could of raked in these fish. But with the 9-weight and no fly to choose from, attached to level 2X leader, it was a challenge. Luckily, Chris and I each landed one without too much difficulty. These whitefish fight incredibly well and best of all they are big. Each fish has the length and girth of a giant Henry’s Fork rainbow. The beauty of the event for me, a new species on the fly!

Although we could have stayed at the whitefish pool all week, it was back to the hunt for “a” big pike. Fortunately, being the smart guys that we are, we gradually drifted from our big pike dreams and capitalized on the walleye. Pagato Lake is the best walleye fishery any of us have ever fished. Today, our final day on Pagato, all we did was chase the walleye. To do this means smaller flies and keeping them on bottom. I took my 6-weight Ross Rod and dredged with my Rio Type 3 Full Sinking Line and a Clouser like concoction of a fly. Man did it work! We hit points where we caught random walleyes on pike flies earlier in the week and went up some of the creeks to where we found waterfalls and rapids. By using more walleye like flies we caught more walleyes then we could count. And of course, we had a shore lunch to remember!

At 6 pm tonight the Beaver float plane arrived to pick us up. It was an incredible four days of fishing. Although we didn’t catch our big pike on Pagato, we experienced the best walleye fishing of our lives, added the lake whitefish to our species list and enjoyed watching numerous bears while we fished. It was also the nicest weather you could imagine for fishing this far north. We had one cold windy day, the rest were fantastic. It was a fantastic stop on this adventure. The good news is we did not fly back to the truck to go home tonight, but rather to Reindeer Lake. The outfit we are using for this entire trip, Lawrence Bay Lodge, has a place on Reindeer Lake and the lake is renowned for giant pike. Upon our arrival, they let us take the boats out on our own to a nearby bay and we pummeled pike up to 35”s! Tomorrow we will be guided for the first time this trip. Judging by tonight, we may just find the beast we have been dreaming for.

Jeff Currier Global Fly Fishing web site

Lakes Beyond Lakes

June 2, 2010

Our cabin is very simple and located on a scenic little beach on the north end of Pagato Lake. We have a porch that overlooks the water and that’s where I sucked down a cup of coffee while going over my gear listening to loons between 6 and 7 am. It was calm and sunny but cold as heck. The sun had literally been up since 4 am. This place is absolute heaven.

We started fishing at about 9 am. 9 am sounds incredibly late for fishing, but up here there is presently 21 hours of daylight. If you fish late into the night you won’t fish early. Late means fishing until midnight (what we did last night) and early starts at 3 am when there’s easily enough light to see. Although everyone would love to fish from 3 am to midnight each day, such hours would kill a few old guys like us.

We were eager to see what Pagato has in store for us so we decided to go to the opposite end of the lake and fish our way back until sunset. On the map we saw a river entering on the far end and knew it should be a prime area for pike at this time of year. The four of us cranked up the two boats and enjoyed a forty-five minute drive. The river dumped into a shallow weedy bay and we started catching little pike like there was nothing to it. Gradually the current of the river pushed us out into the lake where the depth increased. Because we weren’t catching any big pike in the shallows I felt like we were bound to hook up with a big pike out deep. Unfortunately the hammer handles kept showing up.

Bill and Steve are experienced fishing the waters of northern Canada and suggested we drive up the river itself to see if the big pike were hiding up there. We could see on our map that this river actually came from a small lake and thought that if we could get the boats up there perhaps we could fish that lake. We slowly motored up the river carefully avoiding the many submerged rocks and sunken trees. It was ideal fish habitat and occasionally we stopped and nailed a few more small pike. About a ½ mile up we hit a short rapid. My past experiences in the Minnesota Boundary Waters and the Quetico of Ontario are that these places hold numerous walleye. Sure enough we all caught walleyes on our first cast below the rapid on our big pike flies. The walleyes were humanely wacked and became an incredibly delicious shore lunch.

All anglers are explorers, so we actually drug the boats up the rapids and then motored into the small lake we saw on the map. There’s now doubt that this small weedy lake sees few anglers. It too had its fair share of entering creeks and the four of us went off investigating. The first creek Chris and I went too had lily pads throughout the entire bay. We each tied on weedless Dahlberg Divers and cast them deep into the lily pads. It didn’t’ take long before a wake appeared behind my fly destroyed it. It was a nice 27” pike. We proceeded to catch numerous pike from the lilies throughout the day, but we couldn’t break 30 inches. The dream 40 plus inchers were not around.

A huge thunder storm rolled in at about 7 pm. I hate sitting in an aluminum boat during a lightning storm so we tied to a dead birch tree and walked the bog and hunkered down in some willows. The wind ripped and the rain came down hard for a few minutes. Then as fast as the storm came it left and we were casting our Dahlberg’s again. It hadn’t been ten minutes since we were in the willows when I spotted a huge black bear sniffing the very ground we were just on. Likely the smell of fish from our waders lured the giant bear from the thick forest hoping for an easy fish meal. We watched him trace our steps until he finally got wind of us and ran back to the forest. Man I’m glad we were back in the boat!

Knowing we had a long way back to the cabin we each caught one more pike from the lily pads and then began the trek. The sun actually set at about 10:15 but it stayed light enough to see and fish till nearly midnight. Once within a mile of the cabin we did just that. We hammered walleye after walleye off a point with Warpath Jig Fly’s and Clouser's until we were too tired to cast. Although the big pike eluded us the numbers of small pike and quality walleye kept us happy.

Jeff Currier Global Fly Fishing web site

Fly In to Pagato

June 1, 2010

It was a rowdy celebratory night at the old Thompson Lodge last evening because of the Stanley Cup Hockey Game. That’s a sacred night in any part of Canada. We watched the game over a few drinks and then went back to the cabin and cooked up the walleyes we caught. This morning we slept in then packed the truck and drove two hours north across the legendary Churchill River to Southend, Saskatchewan on Reindeer Lake. At 4 pm we heard the engine of a Beaver Sea Plane approaching overhead. The pilot buzzed us and landed that baby on the lake and pulled the noisy rig right up to us. It was a sight to see, especially knowing we were about to climb aboard and fly deep into the back country of northern Canada.

Our flight in took about thirty minutes. I scanned the ground below hoping for a glimpse of a bear or a wolf but saw nothing besides moose trails through the bogs. We crossed over dense forest with scattered lakes everywhere before we landed on beautiful Pagato Lake. The pilot drove the plane right up on the beach in front of the cabin we will be staying at for the next four nights

We are the first guests in here this year so we knew there would be some issues like plenty of mouse poop to clean up. Mouse damage ended up being the easy part. There were black bear tracks everywhere and unfortunately they chewed through all the propane and water hoses around the cabin. We will have no refrigerator to cool our food and beer and we won’t be able to pump water to the cabin from the lake. We’ll also need to be careful with our food and won’t venture too far away at night.

It was just after 5 pm when we were all moved in and then we watched the plane take off. We were on our own. Our weather is gorgeous now and it doesn’t get dark up this far north until well after 10 pm so we got the boats ready and took off to get in a few hours worth of fishing. Chris and I shared a boat as did Steve and Bill and we all took off to a nearby bay we could see on a map.

It only took a few minutes to realize that Pagato Lake is big. The nearby bay we saw on the map was a twenty minute drive in our Lund Boats with the 9.9 Yamahas. Pagato has numerous bays but few islands and just about everywhere you look there are pairs of loons, a sure sign there’s plenty of baitfish. Once we arrived at the bay we all began chucking huge pike flies into the shallows and weeds.

Four hours of fishing went fast. The sun set at about 10 but it never got completely dark. Our fishing was excellent however our target species, big pike, were not exactly jumping on the fly. Between the four of us we caught about twenty hammer handles (small pike) without even a take from a large one. However it appears the walleye fishing will be incredible because we all caught at least a few on the pike flies

 

 

 

 

 

Jeff Currier Global Fly Fishing web site

It's Just a Baby

The rain was coming down this morning when we left our cabin to chase the fish around. Not only that, it was cold and windy. Put those ingredients together at the latitude of northern Saskatchewan and you have a very nasty day for fishing. We rented two boats from Thompson Camp and headed out on Otter Lake. Otter Lake is actually an over swollen part of the Churchill River. On the map, Otter Lake looks to be about fifteen miles long and eight miles wide in some places. There are hundreds of islands and you could get lost quick. We weren’t too worried as we purchased a good map and had our GPS.

Even with the rain coming down we were comfortable, completely dressed in warm clothes and waders with rain jackets. We were also as pumped as you could be. Our main target today were big pike. Having the opportunity to fish for big pike doesn’t come often for we Rocky Mountain folks. The first place we stopped proved we were going to catch fish. We must have caught twenty small pike. Place after place we caught fish. Finally I stumbled into a decent pike by most standards, a fish of 6lbs, but for the locals it’s a baby.

The highlight of the day was hitting a favorite walleye area on the lake. The dude who rented us the boats recommended we try a particular spot. I was fishing with Bill and when we pulled up to this spot, Chris and Steve were already there anchored. They were jigging for the walleye and were excited to say they caught several. This was good news because despite being serious “catch and release guys”, fresh walleye for dinner was on the menu. I purposely brought along my 6-weight Ross rod and a Rio Type 3 sinking line just for the walleyes. I strung her up and on my first cast landed a gorgeous walleye. I released the fish and two casts later landed another. To make a longs story short I went on to land eleven in less than an hour. The fly performed better than jigging by far which is very unusual.

It was a great day to start the trip. The best part is we ended the day with sunshine and no wind. Perhaps our weather took a turn for the good. Tomorrow we will relax in the morning then drive two hours north to the small town of Southend on Reindeer Lake. At 4 pm we will catch a sea plane to Pagota Lake and spend the next four days. Because we will be so far in the backcountry, this will be the last report till we get out. Be ready for some exciting entries and photos in a week!

 

Jeff Currier Global Fly Fishing web site

Let the Pike Games Begin

30 hours after Victor I find myself in Missinipe, Saskatchewan. I’m with good friend Chris Hart and his friend Steve Bjorklund and his friend Bill Wilshire, these guys are all from Bozeman, Montana. All I can say is it was a long drive. I left Victor at noon yesterday. Once I got to Chris’s house we immediately left and picked up the other guys and drove to Malta, Montana. We crossed into Canada early this morning and drove for ten hours to where we are now.

I’m living up to my nickname, “Monsoon Currier”, the weather is for the ducks. The good news is that it is supposed to improve all week. If you look at a map of Saskatchewan, we are about fifty miles north of the small town of La Ronge, Saskatchewan (look northeast). We are going to stay at this place called Thompsons Lodge on Otter Lake for two nights and tomorrow toss flies for pike and walleye. On Tue., we will drive further north to the small town of Southend, Saskatchewan on Reindeer Lake and fly into an outpost lake called Pagota Lake.

I don’t know how often I’ll be reporting while on this trip but I’ll do my best. If I fall behind I’ll catch up when I get home. Keep and eye for some exciting reports and photos and tips on catching pike and walleye on the fly.

 

Jeff Currier Global Fly Fishing web site

Time to Rest the Casting Arm

It’s prime time to visit Yellowstone National Park if you want a chance at seeing some bears. Each spring, Granny and I take a two day jaunt up to the park and try to see as much wildlife as possible. The park has few visitors this time of year making it a very enjoyable time to drive around at your own pace. Although any critter is fun to see, we love to watch the bears. Normally we do this trip the first week of May, but due to my fishing schedule we missed that window so we hit Yellowstone the last two days.

We got a late start on Tuesday morning which put us in the West Entrance at about noon, horribly late for searching for wildlife. We drove to Old Faithful and saw the usual, hundreds of elk and buffalo and a coyote. Then we backtracked north towards Mammoth and we saw a black bear just south of Twin Lakes. We borrowed a campsite at Mammoth Campground (they hate when you do this) and cooked up a quick lunch of dogs over a fire then started the slow drive to Lamar Valley, a top bear and wolf viewing area. All our usual bear hotspots let us down. We saw the complete opposite, relaxing elk, antelope, deer, bighorn sheep and bison. When these critters are resting so are the bears.

We drove out the North East Entrance of the park and past Silver Gate, MT and Cooke City, Montana and found a place at the base of Pilot Peak where we could camp and make dinner. We did this about 5 pm then headed back in the park. Unfortunately there was an accident just ten miles in and we spent an hour trapped until the wreckage was cleaned up. That gave us a late start on the evening bear search. Once cleared, we drove all the way to Slough Creek and nothing. It appeared things weren’t going to happen so we turned back to camp.

It was 8:30 pm when just south of the Yellowstone Institute we saw some panicking elk cows on a hillside with our naked eye. Out popped a charging black bear and the elk dispersed. They didn’t run far before turning and challenging the bear. Sure enough, these elk hid their calves in the area and the bear was there to steal one for dinner. This thrilling act of nature lasted only a minute before the large black bear found a calf and grabbed it by the head and ran for place to dine. The elk cows did their best to free the seized calf but were no match for the bear.

As if that wasn’t good enough for the weekend, ten minutes later with just enough light to see, we ran into a grizzly with two cubs in the meadow by Pebble Creek Campground. What a great day all packed into the last hour! We got up very early Wednesday to drive Lamar Valley before sunrise. As far as carnage goes, things were slow. However, we watched a large wolf approach and cross the road near Slough Creek Campground, some foxes, coyotes and spent an hour on a hillside observing a huge black bear eating grass in a damp field.

Yellowstone’s fishing season opens on Saturday on many of its rivers and lakes. My recommendation would be concentrate on the Firehole and the Madison Rivers. Although we couldn’t wet a line during our wildlife rendezvous this weekend, we certainly made a few stops along these rivers to observe a few fish rise to blue wing olives. Also keep in mind that the upper Henry’s Fork opens to fishing as well. This includes Box Canyon and Last Chance. I saw one large rainbow rise from the platform at the Last Chance parking lot. No matter where you choose, the fishing should be excellent for the openers. As for me, it’s big pike time!

 

Jeff Currier Global Fly Fishing web site

A Snowy Fin Chaser Classic

May 20-23, 2010

I’m just back from the Fin Chasers Carp Classic VI Fly Fishing (Fun) Fundraiser held on Blackfoot Reservoir of South East Idaho. Each year this event raises money to help an angler, fishing guide or fly fishing industry worker in need. There are no cash prizes as all entry fees, raffle ticket purchases and donations go entirely to the one in need. This year it was for Peter and Lisa Holman’s three month old daughter Laney who needs a heart operation. Many fly fishing manufacturers and shops donated products to be given out as awards for good angling and prizes for raffle tickets. The event consisted of seventeen three person teams. This is the first time I attended as a competitor. My team included friends Trey Scharp and Ben Smith. The weather was forecasted to be horrific so we named our team “Could Be Worse” just for fun. At least that’s what we kept telling ourselves.

Although the contest occurred on Friday and Saturday, most contestants arrived Thursday. Ben Smith and I hit the shores of Blackfoot Reservoir around 4 pm to scope out the lake looking for the best place to fish. I’ve carp fished here many times; however, water levels are the highest in years. All my usual haunts were flooded and there were no signs of carp. That sent us driving all over and on several hikes scouting new water. Finally we found some free-jumping carp. With carp located we returned to event headquarters where we met up with Trey and camped with the other contestants.

Many of the contestants are friends whom I haven’t seen in months. Those I didn’t know are friends now. We shared stories, ate deer burgers and of course consumed numerous beverages. Although forecasted to be raining, we had mostly stars and temperatures in the upper 30’s. It was great fun. With doing well in the competition a priority, the “Could be Worse” boys retired before midnight for a good sleep.

I expected the bad weather to start during the night, but the sun rose and the lake was glass. King grebes, coots, pelicans and a variety of duck species squawked from shore to shore while the meadow larks and cranes echoed around camp. This gorgeous morning was bonus time as the weather was about to change fast. After a $5 all you can eat pancake breakfast (this money also donated to the cause) and a meeting about the rules of the tournament, contestants took off to their secret carp spots. Fishing would end at 5 pm.

It was a twenty minute drive on rough roads and through grain fields to our honey hole. As we drove across the last pasture, abusing our rigs all the way, we arrived where Ben and I saw carp the night before. Sure enough, as we slipped into our waders, the first carp left the water and crashed back in making us super psyched.

Our confidence didn’t last long. During the first two hours of fishing, none of us hooked a fish. The sunshine was replaced by drizzle and the calm turned to gale winds. By now, I was chest deep using the tail wind to get some long casts to free-jumping carp nearly out of range. I prefer sight fishing carp on shallow flats or grassy areas, but there was no chance to see one there in these windy sunless conditions. I crept one of my favorite carp flies, the rubber legs hare’s ear, along the bottom where the carp were splashing. I was just waiting for a grab, but nothing. Just as I began to shiver, I heard cheers from nearby as Trey hooked up.

Often times when you blind cast to leaping carp, you snag them. Snagging obviously doesn’t count for the tournament so when Trey saw his carp hooked in the mouth, he hollered in relief. If you haven’t caught carp on fly then you should. Carp put up a hellacious fight and after two runs into his backing, Trey finally bear hugged an 8lb mirror carp and proudly brought it ashore. We were on the boards!

It’s amazing how the shivers disappear when the confidence comes back. It was full fledged rain when Trey came over to tell me about his catch. He caught his fish slowly stripping a brown woolly bugger. I told him to try his bugger out with me and sure enough he hooked up with a beast. As his brute worked him in and out of his backing I tied on a brown flash-a-bugger.

In this competition each individual is allowed to enter only one fish. Although the team can turn in three, each individual must catch their own carp. So when Trey landed his second fish, he could not add it to our team total. Contestants can however, release their smaller ones and record their largest. Treys second carp was a dandy that we estimated at about 18lbs! Carp live out of water forever, so he released his 8lber without any problem. Now we were really on the board, but Ben and I had to catch a fish.

With water now dripping down my neck from rain smearing me in the face, and running down my arms while I cast, I hooked and landed my fish. It was by no means a monster, but it was a fish of about 10lbs. We had a team total of near 30lbs for the day, if Ben could add another we’d be sitting pretty. Surely, there would be many teams with no fish at all. Ben came over to Trey and I. It was apparent that there were lots of fish here. Trey caught another 8lber and I got schooled by a giant only to have the hook pull out. Then, with only fifteen minutes left, Benny landed his fish. It was only about at 3lber, but it would do. At 5 pm we began the drive back to camp.

It’s always fun watching everyone return from their day. There’s lots of smiles, a few frowns, a crazy story and a few excuses. Luckily, the “Could Be Worse” boys were smiling. It was apparent we’d done well because only two teams brought in three fish. Unfortunately, the other team with three had bigger fish and one team had two fish, each over 20lbs. The way things stacked up, first place scored 42lbs, second place had 38lbs and we were in third with 32lbs. Not exactly where we wanted to be, but ok. Treys trophy carp weighed 18lbs 5oz! But the biggest of the day was 21lb.

We never got out of our waders all night except when it was time to sleep. It absolutely poured rain on us. Somehow we laughed through it while cooking up elk burritos and sucked a few beers. Then it was back to bed for a fresh start. We knew we had to catch about 50lbs of carp to take over 1st place.

During the night a funny quiet came to camp. I knew the precipitation didn’t stop. I was freezing in my sleeping bag. It got quiet because the rain turned to snow. At 5 am I peeked out at the first glimmer of light and confirmed my assumption. There was a fresh 2” of snow and it was coming down steady. Carp fishing isn’t great when it’s cold so I knew we were in for a challenge. With that in mind, we had no time to waste. We ate our pancakes and were the first team out of camp. The roads were so slippery with mud and snow we had to creep along. Wet dirt roads can be more difficult to drive on than snow and ice. Mix the two and you’re in for an adventure. It took us a good 45 minutes to get near our spot. “Near” is the word. Just before getting to our location is a steep hill and we were smart enough to park and walk. This meant bringing very limited supplies and a 20 minute walk.

We arrived at the previous days honey hole to no jumping carp. Things didn’t look good. The wind picked up to a gale straight out of the north and it was snowing sideways. The temps were much colder than Day 1 and we were all shivering. I actually got out of the water about three times just to warm up. To make a long story short, we didn’t touch a carp. No strikes or anything. We froze our butts off, cast our shoulders out of socket and my hands are still cramped two days later. As we reeled in at 5 pm we wanted to change our team name from “Could Be Worse” to “Could Be A Lot Better”. We popped orange whips at the car and made a long slow drive back to camp.

I didn’t expect other teams to do well either, but I expected to see some fish caught and expected to lose our third place standing. However, I was somewhat pleased to see it wasn’t just us and that it was a brutal day for all. There were only three fish caught total from the seventeen three person teams! The biggest was much smaller than on Day 1 at 12lbs. Best of all, we kept our 3rd place finish. In fact, 1st, 2nd and 3rd places all remained the same. All in all, it was a fantastic fun filled weekend and more money was raised at the Fin Chasers Carp Classic VI Fly Fishing (Fun) Fundraiser than any previous year. If you want to have a great weekend and a chance at a giant carp on the fly, join us in May 2011! Be ready for some exciting posts in the next couple weeks as I take on the pike and walleye of northern Saskatchewan.

Jeff Currier Global Fly Fishing web site

Sammy Gets His Rooster

May 15, 2010

Sixth Day – Rooster Chaos

Sammy, Grant and I left early for the beaches this morning. It was our final day and we wanted to make it a good one. In spite of the fact every bone and muscle in our bodies ached as if we are a few of old guys and the fact that the rooster fishing has been difficult to say the least, this had to be the day. We were going to find them, tease them and catch them. We headed back to my favorite beach in Baja where I caught my first roosterfish years ago. Oh, and, where we got skunked two days ago.

Before getting there we stopped at a few other places and either saw nothing or ran into other anglers. After a long castless morning, we arrived at the spot. I jumped out and headed down the beach to where I actually caught roosters before. Sammy, who has stayed with Grant and the teaser religiously all week long, stuck with Grant to make one last effort. They began working the beach few minutes behind me and moved slowly. I could see Grant launching the hook less teaser way out and reeling it in at mock speed. Then I watched Sammy run waist deep into the surf and let his cast go hoping the teaser brought in a hungry roosterfish. I thought hard about joining in but it looked like a huge amount of work and I was enjoying my own hunt.

While walking I watched a lone whale breach less than a mile out, likely a gray or a humpback. Then I observed a line of pelicans standing alertly to the ocean on a steep piece of beach ahead of me. It was as if they were expecting something to happen. I thought it might be wise to watch too, so to avoid spooking them, I stopped and grabbed a seat myself. A few of the closest pelicans watched me warily and then gave me a nod like they appreciated the fact that I let them stay. Shortly after, one by one, the pelicans took flight and glided in their magnificent effortless fashion on past me. At first I thought they were just moving on. Then they got down to Sammy and Grant and started dive-bombing the water right in front of them. Suddenly there were fleeing baitfish everywhere. The bait was being chased by big fish from below. Ballyhoo, mullet and houndfish were leaping from a hundred yards out all the way to the surf. I jumped up and began to sprint back the way I came to check out the action. As I was running for the chaos, the chaos was swimming towards me. There were feeding roosterfish everywhere.

Try to imagine the incredible dorsal fin of a roosterfish completely upright and out of the water. Picture it cutting the ocean surface like a knife at a ridiculously high speed. The rooster is swimming so fast you can hear the hiss of his fin and the snapping of his jaws as he feeds on the terrified smaller fish. Now visualize numerous roosters doing this all at the same time and you see exactly what I saw.

Most were out of fly casting range, but a few were chasing bait so far up on the beach they had to swim sideways to get back to the water. They looked like struggling flounders. My heart was pounding so hard it was unbelievable. I was anaerobic from running and so far beyond wound up by what I as seeing that my brain was on overdrive. At first, I sprinted to meet the marauding roosters. But, these flurries lasted such a short time that by the time I got my fly in the water they were gone. Then I’d look back to where I just was and the roosters were now there. I was running here, there and everywhere while franticly casting but never got my fly near the speeding fish. Finally I was so out of breath that I was standing in the surf recouping when the fish came to me. I got my cast to two enormous roosters. My fly landed right in the middle of the fleeing baitfish and both roosters saw it. I gave two short fast strips and both fish circled my fly and acted as thought they were going to fight for it. Then they refused it and retreated back to the deep. That was my only chance. Just as fast as the blitz began, it ended. I looked down the beach to see if there was any more carnage taking place but there wasn’t. Then I looked to see if Sammy was hooked up. He was not. All I saw was he and Grant staring out to sea just shaking their heads. How could we of not hooked up?

I hate to say it, but that’s rooster fishing. I’ve experienced this before. Roosters are smart as heck, very particular about what they eat and I am certain they see us running and casting carelessly along the beach. They just may be the toughest fly rod quarry from the beach there is. I waited for Sammy and Grant to catch up to me. Naturally they were so engrossed with the action that they thought I missed out. Grant started telling my about what I missed and how I should of ran to them to get my chance. Little did he know the frenzy engulfed a quarter mile of the beach. I had my chances just like they did.

We were pretty bummed and felt like we just blew the best chance of the trip. Yet at the same time, we knew roosters were close and perhaps another blitz would happen again. Grant started teasing for Sammy and I wandered ahead down the beach. I saw what looked like a little activity just outside some huge surf. It was just one darting ballyhoo. Not taking anything for granted, I ripped off a long cast towards the activity. While getting smashed by a breaking wave, I made two strips and hooked up. Whatever it was, it took me into my backing in a second!

I heard Sammy and Grant bolting my way hoping I had a big rooster. Roosters have never been so kind to me so I was sure it was a big crevalle. The large fish got about 50 feet into my backing and started bullying me in large circles. Although I still hadn’t seen him I knew it was a jack. With fish around, Grant started teasing. On his first cast with the teaser in came a hot chasing rooster. I watched Sammy false cast his way into the surf to drop his fly in front of the charging rooster as I tugged on my jack. He made a perfect cast. Grant yanked the teaser from the water sending it up over his head and crashing to the beach behind him. The rooster looked for it and saw only Sammy’s fly. By miracle he devoured it!

All three of us shrieked and cheered and Sammy’s battle was on. Sammy and I started laughing as we had the first double of the trip on the last day. I put some serious heat on my crevalle. All I wanted to do was get over to Sammy to watch him fight his roosterfish. I horsed the jack with all I had but it still took five minutes to land the brute. Once in Grant popped a couple photos and just as we were done Sammy beached his rooster. It was all smiles. This was the quality rooster we were after.

There’s nothing like catching great fish on the last day of a trip, especially a fish as challenging as a roosterfish. The roosters absolutely abused us this week and in a sick way we enjoyed every minute of it. Our feet are burned because sunscreen kept washing off, every muscle and bone hurts from running in the sand and we are mentally exhausted from getting up before 5 am each day and going full bore till late at night. But it’s the kind of pain and torture every serious angler lives for and I can’t wait till the next trip to Baja with Sammy. As for now, it’s a quick flight home, pay the bills, paint a fish and on Thursday head out on the next adventure, carp fishing. Yes this weekend is the Carp Classic VI Fun-Fundraising Tournament on Blackfoot Reservoir in Idaho. There will be no sunburns or running, but big carp can certainly be a challenge on the fly. Hope for some exciting stories, fun pictures and tips on catching carp on fly this weekend.

Jeff Currier Global Fly Fishing web site

Same Island Different Tide

Fifth Day

Today we went back to the island. We left our hotel at 4:30 am and met up with Roberto (the dude with the boat that we hire to drive us to the island) at 6 am. The Sea of Cortez was calm and our trip out was smooth and dry. We had high expectations after the great fishing we had here two days ago. 

Although the island is huge, we had Roberto drop us off exactly where we had our previous luck. Excited as heck, I leaped off the bow of the boat before we even hit the beach and began false casting my 9-weight Ross and a huge popper. Once I had 60 or so feet of line out I landed the top water fly and started jerking it back. The ocean remained still and the popper must have been visible to fish a mile away. Sammy combed the water ahead of me with one of Grants roosterfish streamers and quickly caught a couple small ones. Things were looking good. Then I nailed a green jack which convinced me the popper might work great, but an hour later the green jack was my only fish. It was time for me to put on one of Grants killer roosterfish flies and get serious. 

I grabbed my 10-weight rigged with my Rio intermediate saltwater line and prowled along. Normally when roosterfishing you don’t cast till you see fish, but the sun was low and directly in our face and you couldn’t see into the water. It was either blind cast or don’t cast at all. I meandered along and passed Sammy and Grant and eventually went around a point and out of sight into new water. As I went, the beach gave way to rocks. I was leaving roosterfish water and entering the habitat of snapper and grouper. Just as I was debating whether or not to change direction and head back towards Sammy and Grant, a rooster, easily 20lbs exploded on my fly literally as I was lifting to make my next cast. The hungry attacker crushed my fly so close to my feet it sent me retreating up the beach. Miraculously I got what seemed like a good hook set and the game was on. 

Although roosters of Baja don’t thrive around the rocks, they certainly know the ones in their turf and how to use them to their advantage when doing battle. As the powerful fish pealed line off my reel, it was apparent he was headed to a distant jagged outcrop of rock. Unlike snapper and grouper that go down into the rocks and hide, roosters go past the rocks and around the rocks in an attempt to saw off a leader of even sever a fly line. The best thing you can do is try to stop or at least steer the fish away from the danger or it’s guaranteed you will lose him. 

I cranked the drag on my reel to the max. Backing was actually crackling as it left the spool and it was difficult to hold on. In addition to the reel-drag, I added more drag by palming my spinning spool to the point where it seemed my rod would explode. Then in a split second it was over. The fish was gone, and my rod was limp. I reeled in expecting to find a tattered leader and no fly. However, I was surprised to find my fly fully intact and not even a scrape on my leader or fly line. I did not get a good enough hook set from the get go.

Disappointed barely describes the feeling after loosing such an incredible fish. But, there’s no looking back so I proceeded to fish. I had a choice. Head back and continue to fish roosters or keep going into the rocky area. After hooking that rooster in this area it seemed logical it could happen again. And with my love for snapper and grouper fishing, I picked a rocky point in the distance and decided I would fish to that area and then turn back.

With me, life rarely goes as planned. I went on to have enough action with snapper and cabrilla to go past the next five rocky points. The water was incredibly fishy looking and there was no way I could turn back. Plus, I was catching fish. When done I had caught three flag cabrilla and either a type of hog or parrotfish that I will have to look up when I get home and got broke off by a mystery fish. Also, like the other day, I got rocked, literally by a snapper and had to swim out to attempt to free him from his hiding place in the rocks. Unfortunately the outcome was not the same as the other day. This particular fish dislodged my fly and escaped.

It turns out my rock hopping adventure was the right choice. I made my way back only to find Sammy and Grant attempting to tease in roosters and jacks on the beach we started at. They had absolutely no luck at all and were surprised about my excellent fishing. It was getting close to time for Roberto to come retrieve us so I couldn’t venture back to the rocks. I changed out my 10-weight and grabbed the popper rig I started the day with. As we waited for Roberto I popped away. Sure enough, I saw a sprinkle of fleeing baitfish. I launched my popper to the disturbance and just as my popper hit the water it got nailed and I landed a gorgeous Pacific Crevalle. Today was a great day.

 

Jeff Currier Global Fly Fishing web site

Miles on an Old Familiar Beach

Fourth Day 

In 1996 some great friends and I drove to Baja from Jackson, WY. We had a pickup truck camper and towed a fourteen foot tin boat. We almost got killed in that tiny boat several times because it was the El Nino year. The wind and waves were so bad even the shrimp boat trawlers hid for cover. During what was a five week trip, I eventually smartened up and decided I was going to catch a roosterfish off the beach on a popper. We spent thirteen days camped on one particular beach that I absolutely fell I love with. Every time I think of it I reflect of how it was like a home away from home. I caught two quality roosters off that beach during those days. Man what a tough fish to catch!

Amazingly I have not been back. So when the chance to do so today came about, I was all over it. Sure enough it turned to a day of reminiscing of one of the great trips of my life. The beach was the same. The only difference there was other anglers. We didn’t see a one last trip. Times have changed but the roosters are still here.

I easily walked four miles up and down this fantastic beach. I remembered every inch of it and the good casts and the bad. Today there were plenty of jacks but the roosters were hard to come by. Just when I was giving up, I saw one of the greatest rooster blitzes I have ever seen. I was nearly asleep perched on a high sand point when pelicans on a rock near me headed for the water. Then I saw the splashes. There was no doubt that the chaos was either Pacific Jack Crevalles or roosterfish slamming bait. Despite the slow day, I had my line stripped out on the sand ready for a cast. This is general procedure for sight fishing, and I sprinted down the beach while false casting to meet the attackers.

It was indeed roosters. And the first crashing roosters I saw were no slouches either. Two fish of 20lb or better sent ballyhoo skyrocketing in the air. The fish were in casting range so I launched my fly only to find the surf had tangled my line in my feet. I cleared the mess but then the fish were gone. Man! Seconds later in came some smaller roosters. Naturally, I got a perfect cast to the peanuts but they followed and refused. This was roosterfishing at its best.

I got five good cast to the frenzied roosters. I bolted up and down the beach to the point where I thought my heart was going to burst out of my chest. The roosters followed the fly but none sealed the deal. The rest of the day I got only two casts, but the memories of the frenzy made the day. 

I fished alone most of today. Grant and Sammy took a different beach route in the morning but met up with me about 3 pm. Sammy landed a small jack and that was the only caught fish for both of us. I did have a low moment to add. A giant crevalle ate my fly and as he ripped deep into my backing, somehow I got a twist of backing around my rod butt and the speeding fish broke me off. I was horrified! And how that happened I don’t know. But that’s saltwater fly fishing and playing with the big boys. Tomorrow we head back to the island where the snappers and cabrilla live!

Jeff Currier Global Flyfishing web site