Category Archives: fishing

The Sou’Wester meets the Burnoose

Hot Air Barons Fishermen have always gravitated to “whatever works, ” – and with declining revenue, less fish, and fuel costs, the choice may be as simple as a new career.

New Jersey’s commercial fishing fleet is the eighth largest in the US, and with the travails of the fishing industry well documented, they’re looking to branch out into the renewable energy market.

But the Garden State wants to be home to the U.S.’s first offshore wind farm. Fishermen’s Energy hopes to install eight turbines capable of 20 megawatts by 2011 off the coast of Atlantic City, and an additional 64 turbines and 320 megawatts by 2013.

I’ve always known fishermen to be the center of a lot of hot air, it’s about time we leveraged that gift for something material.

An Alder sapling and some Bacon Rind

Carp on a dog biscuit, that's Old School On rare occasion my heart warms at the simplicity of it all, images of barefoot kids with alder branches and bent bobby pins – outfishing us carbon fiber augmented, Gore-tex lined, ballistic nylon equipped, and chemically sharpened City Swells – blissfully unaware of the trappings of “Power Angling” in favor of idling on the river bank with some leftover bacon rind.

Them days is long gone, but occasionally I’m allowed to be maudlin and silly.

Briefly the vision was restored upon seeing the underlying caption of the above picture, some fellow catching a monstrous Carp on a dog biscuit. I was hopeful as there wasn’t any gear present, no vendor label featured prominently on a rakish “curly-brim” – no Sage, Simm’s, or outward signs of the angling dilettante..

I’ve been misled before and checked arm position to “enhance” the photo – no fish eye lens detected, and the stern expression was okay – as his Mom might have said, “that’s wonderful Bob, You clean it.”

Nope, he’s a professional – and I’m still searching for that freckled kid with the fish twice as big as anything I’ve seen. Ma could be reading all them health conscious sites on the Internet, and Bacon’s been banned outright.

Tell me it ain’t so…

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11 Tons should be around 100,000 fish

Sigorney Weaver won't be there to help, you're on your ownEagle Lake rainbows ravenously feeding in Davis Lake may be akin to a scene from  Aliens  – and may warrant the same solution, a nuke from orbit.

…it’s the only way to be sure.

Today, Lake Davis will be the recipient of 11 tons of Eagle Lake Rainbow Trout – most will be addled by the long drive and fishing is likely to be brisk and fruitful. 3000 of the fish will be trophy sized, up to 13 lbs, and will be released simultaneously with the normal stock.

For those of you outside California, Lake Davis has been “nuked” twice to kill the Northern Pike – now that the poison has cleared the watershed, the Department of Fish and Game will begin restocking it as a trout fishery.

The trophy fish will be released in Honker Cove, which may have to be renamed to Rorke’s Drift – as the battle will be one sided until they’re escorted out of range.

Planting will continue through Saturday, with the inaugural opening scheduled for 10:30AM, Saturday morning. There’ll be a number of fishing seminars and events scheduled in coordination with the re-christening of the fishery.

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A "false positive" may shorten the outing considerable

False positives are a bad thing The California Department of Fish and Game is taking the offensive on the Quagga and Zebra Mussel issue. Inspections continue for boat owners in the Southern end of the state, and next week they’re planning on stopping all boat owners heading up the I-5 corridor.

Interstate 5 is the North-South highway that bisects California and extends from Mexico to Oregon.

All trailered boats will be required to stop at the Cottonwood Inspection Facility in Tehama county, where boat owners will be quizzed on usage and their craft will endure a mandatory Zebra/Quagga inspection.

Both May 22nd and 23rd from 2 – 8 PM, DFG will have both biologists and trained inspection dogs to facilitate the process.

Upon entrance to the scales, DFG Game Wardens will ask vessel owners a series of questions about their watercraft. Vessels found to be clean will be released and allowed back onto the Interstate; boaters with suspect vessels will be inspected onsite by trained biologists and specially trained detection dogs. “Dirty” vessels – those that have not been cleaned, drained and dried – will also be inspected and could be quarantined.

It’s illegal to transport either mussel, allowing the DFG to detain any boat so afflicted.

To be on the safe side, I’d make sure the salami and cheese sandwiches were stored in the vehicle cab – no sense getting a “false positive” when our four legged friends “lock up” on your cooler…

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The Urban Safari next door

Like a trout only smallerAlert to trends in fly fishing, fish, and tackle – we’re just going to have to point the bat at the left field fence, so’s you can flock to the cutting edge…

It’s the next great “Urban Safari” – pools teeming with voracious, predatory fish and only you know about them. It’s light tackle and gossamer tippets, but the best part is it’s next door.

Subprime mortgages and thousands of foreclosed homes means abandoned pools swarming with Mosquito larvae. To combat the potential for West Nile virus outbreaks state agencies are turning to the Mosquitofish to eliminate the threat.

Thousands of swimming pools in Florida and California are being planted to ensure the mosquito population is held in check until a new owner can assume maintenance.

Located along the delta where the Sacramento River meets the salt waters of the San Francisco Bay area, Contra Costa County’s warm climate makes for prime mosquito country. The area is also struggling with foreclosures. Default notices more than doubled to 4,718 in the first quarter from the previous year, according to the research firm, DataQuick Information Systems.

But like everything else about the housing crisis, the fish aren’t a perfect fix. They baffle some bankers and agents hired by lenders to look after the vacant homes, says Carlos Sanabria, the Contra Costa mosquito control district’s operations manager. “People think some trout-size thing is going to be swimming around in there clogging up the vents,” he says. “I explain it’s not something you are going to have for dinner.”

No better way to meet the new neighbors than slide over the fence in full angling regalia – a new twist on the old “casserole” introduction. We’re predicting a lot of short, 1 and 2 weight rods being sold, so you may want to get yours quickly.

See you in the deep end.

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He sure looks like the guy that crowded me last weekend

Toss the wine and crackers, empty the fly box and reach for the loincloth, we’re not nearly as smart as we make out – and while fly fishing (fishing with a feathered lure) has a written record that spans as far back as pre-biblical times, it may be older than that…

Consider the evidence recently surfacing from Borneo that angling may be older than the fossil record – then again, someone could make the case that the average IQ of anglers hasn’t grown much, despite what history thinks.

Orangutan fishing for Salmon

In short, you don’t need a fancy rod nor gear – you don’t require flies representing all possible phases of insect minutia, what’s needed is an opposable thumb – the rest is gravy.

He’s a little rough on the presentation, but he looks receptive to a pointer or two, banana’s may be bad luck, but at least I get to ask what he’s using…

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An unexpurgated interview with the Trout Underground, both of them

Tom Chandler releases another fish that I can't talk about “Jesus Tom, this is going to make a hell of a story, I’ll flip you for the rights to tell it.”

“What story?”

“We caught 56 trout in an hour, one of which is likely a new state record, all on dry flies, without budging from the car – in my book, that’s a hell of a good yarn.”

Tom looks at me like he stepped in something distasteful, “Noob, how do you figure 56 fish?”

“Well, there was the 4 at the big rock, the dozen from that nice pool, 8 we did in that riffle above, 6 at the Falls, 8 at the Bridge, 3 while we were signing autographs, 8 at the Island, 14 while we were posing heroically for them sunbathers, and 5 just now… I make that 56.”

Shaking his head with disgust, Tom leans closer, “You haven’t learned a goddamn thing today have you? You can’t mention the fish from Rock X as I’m under a gag order from the Shasta County Guides Association, Riffle Y can’t be mentioned as a buddy told me about it, and the Falls was a trick I learned from Jimmy Reams, who’d have my ass if I mentioned it in print.”

“Ahh,” I says, “I get it, but we still have the fish from …”

“Nope, the Bridge is private property,  the “autograph” fish were planted, and the Island …” TC visibly shudders, ” … forget about the Island.”

“Likewise for the 14 fish we caught near the topless nubile’s, the L&T Nancy will turn six shades of purple and I’ll be mowing lawn for months if she finds out.”

“No problem Tom, we still have the dozen from the pool and the last 5, including that bruising 9lb Rainbow you just landed, you may want to save a chunk of that 8X in case the IGFA wants to see it..”

“Negative, that was ‘Old Drooler’ – the guide’s use him for tips – and I’d be a Laughingstock if he made the print media, last year they all chipped in and had the Mount Shasta dentist add a prosthetic lower jaw, as he’s been caught that many times … the last five were Redband trout, we can’t mention they exist.”

I start tearing the pages out of my notepad, “..so we didn’t catch anything?”

“Not a damn thing, kid.”

Seeing my consternation, TC relents, “Interview Wally the Wonderdog, he loves seeing his name in print.”

On cue, the big lab parks his arse on my foot looking up expectantly – big brown eyes without hint of intelligence saying, “No one ever pets me, ever..”

I recognize I’m being thrown a bone, as Wally is a neo-icon in the angling world – so I open to an untrammeled page in my notebook, “Wally, dry fly or nymph, which do you prefer?”

No one ever pets me, ever …

“Can I put you down for a ‘Yes?'”

The distant tinkle of the telephone interrupts the reverie, and as Tom Chandler charges up the staircase to answer – I’m thinking, don’t get mad – get even…

The car door’s open, and I start shoveling chow at Wally like he’s a muzzleloader; overly-warm greasy beef sticks – unwrapped, gone … yesterday’s banana, inhaled, Kiwi Lime yogurt cup from last season, vanished … stale cookies from yesterday – woofed, Turkey breast and a Hardy reel case, skarfed …

The steady “thud-thud” of the tail wag is starting to slow, and TC appears at the top of the stairs. “How’s the interview going?”

I’m masking my giggle by chewing on my pencil, “Great, we’re just about unwrap … er …wrapped up here… and lastly Wally, how does it feel to crap indiscriminately near all of the finest trout water in Northern California?”

You are my new best friend, can you rub my stomach …

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I’ll be doubly watchful for splinter cells equipped with Sage or Hardy

Somali style I’m studying “Boarding Strategies of the Somali Pirates,” a handwritten tomb outlining seventeen ways to abduct a small freighter armed with harsh language and an AK-47.

No, I’m not some nutcase – I’m rising to the occasion – the Federal government has just released anti-terrorist guidelines for small boaters, and that’s us…

“…the Bush administration wants to enlist the country’s 80 million recreational boaters to help protect the country against a nuclear or radiological bomb.”

I’m prepared to roar up to any fellow peacefully anchored in some lake and demand to see his identity papers. It’s immaterial that he’s actually fishing where I want to … I’m a patriot, and he’s out of luck.

According to an April 23 intelligence assessment obtained by The Associated Press, “The use of a small boat as a weapon is likely to remain al-Qaida’s weapon of choice in the maritime environment, given its ease in arming and deploying, low cost, and record of success.”

A float tube and a rusty 12 gauge should allow me to prowl my favorite water with impunity.  Any fellow with better tackle is suspicious, and if he catches more fish than me, he’s funded by a offshore terrorist cell. It’ll be a “shot across the bow” followed by Citizen’s Arrest and confiscation of anything chemical, longer than 8 feet, and made in England.

I’ll have to test for nerve agents back at the house, so he can forget about his sandwich and cooler, and as it’s a militia action, I can ignore the Geneva convention and drink his beer in front of him..

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Fishing History – a fanciful name for obsessive collecting

More stuff for the garage There’s two kinds of sportsmen; them as love the outdoors and practice their craft often, and there’s them as does all that but has too much disposable income, and collects the trappings of bygone days…

If you’ve not formally “come out” as the latter, the clues are obvious; the dirty dishes go in a wicker creel, 1950’s Outdoor Life are stacked in the bathroom, and your door chime is shorebird complete with brass bill.

…and you’re single, or about to be…

Collecting is a curse, as knees and joints start to complain with pre-dawn activity, gear accumulation is an effective surrogate. I find myself showing tendencies and recognize this is “the pot calling the kettle black.”

There’s an interesting blog that caters to the obsession, written by Dr. Todd Larsen, a history professor that writes on the history of angling in the US. He’ll peruse eBay and highlight the wheat from the chaff – typically offering insight into some of the unique items available via auction.

I’ve always admired the old wooden bass plugs – admired because I can’t afford any – but the history of them is as compelling as the articles themselves.

The recent Lang auction of Ernest Schweibert’s gear is covered – with some of the more interesting pieces covered in detail.  You may want to take a glimpse of your future hobby – as you’ll all succumb to one degree or another.

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One brief spark of hope – ruthlessly extinguished

Plenty of Wisdom and damn little else We tuned them out once we heard the “lecture” tone, some old SOB wanted to tell us how it’s done, as if he knew anything. Maturity does have value, and fish research is postulating that we’ve got the regulations reversed, and should harvest all them young and dumb fish – as their absence isn’t missed.

“It’s not the young ones that should be thrown back, but the larger, older fish that should be spared. Not only do the older fish provide stability … to the population, they provide more and better quality offspring.

This isn’t going to fly with the “Gurl’s Gone Wild” crowd, you lecherous SOB but it does give you a bit of validation.

“Stability” in fish could be “wisdom” in humans – we’ve been preaching its benefits for years, not that it’s done much good – just count the number of stainless studs in your kid’s nose for proof..

A single large fish will simply grow a little when it gets more food, or lose a little weight when food is scarce. A population of many young, small fish, however, may explode in number or collapse depending on food availability.

Translation: Old guys learned a long time ago that consensus was the root of all societal ills, the younger crowd do everything at the same time causing massive upheaval – ’cause upheaval’s fun as hell.

This is especially important to know when trying to rebuild fish stocks.

This is where the research falls on it’s face, experience has taught us that despite our willingness to “rebuild,” the “grilse” will take one look at the available “mature” genetic material –  holding their breath to make their gut smaller – and the species is doomed.

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