Tag Archives: White Whistler

No Table Manners and the Appetite of a Glutton

I’ll go out on a limb and suggest our sport could use a few pedigreed opponents with both table manners and appetites of a Tyrannosaurus Rex. 

I’m thinking selfishly naturally, but think of all the knick-knacks we could remove from our vest, the words – like “gossamer” or “refined” we could purge from our vernacular, and the Jihad we could embrace as we rose to defend all the little kids and sunbathers frolicking at the beach …

I met one of those yesterday, and only managed to fight him to a draw.

Now I’m nursing the bruises and teeth marks, the line burns and the wounded pride that comes with knowing that had I hooked up with a real Striper I might have suffered the same fate as Jonah, swallowed whole by a great fish.

The tides were favorable the last couple of weeks so I tried Sherman Lake twice on Thanksgiving week. The Tuesday of that week was great weather and no fish, and the following day featured gale force winds that pushed the fly line (and sharp 2/0 hook) into the boat, while pushing me and my craft towards the rock jetty. Choosing between being skewered and a watery grave made the remaining option –  a hasty retreat back to the launch area, the only viable alternative.

Fish 1, Me Zip ..

This week promised a return to calm air and a continued spate of middling temperatures, so I returned to the waterway on Tuesday in pursuit of my first fly-caught Striper.

13inchStriper

I don’t know which of us was more surprised, him … as he’d swallowed a fly that was half as big as he was – or me, who was expecting a Pikeminnow or small largemouth. The sure gluttony exhibited by my new pal gave me pause, as he had swallowed a 6” White Whistler… completely. (I had to remove the fly with pliers quickly – as I feared it would be digested before I could release the little Beast.)

This encounter got me thinking of the overall sport – how the evolution of the Genteel Angler; the woodsy Plaid shirts, and Pipe smoke of the Crosby era might have fared with silvery T-Rex’s inhabiting traditional Trout turf. Would we have been so eager to wade knowing the carnivorous little beasts could knife through your Seal-Dri’s and take your leg off at the knee?

Finally, this … was an adversary worth killing.

My thirteen inch nemesis whetted my appetite for additional carnage, and I continued flinging my six inch offering at anything that looked promising.  As the tide came in I had two more brief flurries of activity, a good sized largemouth ate the fly before losing the hook, and what I assumed to be another 13” glutton slammed the fly before also coming unbuttoned.

I returned the following day to fish this same general area; the northern edge and the three islands at the entrance to the Sacramento, as well as part of the northwest shoal of tules and floating water hyacinth.

As there were a half dozen boats in the center of Sherman Lake, I assumed some fish had been caught recently – half appeared to be bait fishing and the balance were casting lures and plugs of some sort. I had a lone fly fisherman roar up to my side and we both drifted with the incoming tide towards Antioch.

I was flinging my usual fare, 2/0 White Whistler, whose hook I had touched up to razor sharpness, when I was slammed by another Striper, this one a bit bigger. As I was out of sight of most of the boats I didn’t mind the noisy complaint from my old click-pawl reel – as I knew I was out of earshot of the flotilla jockeying in the center of the waterway.

6lbStriper600

After towing me around a bit I managed to boat the Glutton and retrieve the offending White Whistler from his maw. Apparently my comment to the smaller fish,  “…and return with your Big Brother!” had been followed to the letter – and while a 6 pounder is not a big fish, it was the prettiest thing I had seen in some time. I smuggled him off the deck and back into the water without commotion, hoping to remain unobserved.

Most of the small fleet of boats had left the center of the lake and moved either north (to the Sacramento) or south (to Big Break) and I was in sole possession of the area. I have a theory that the amount of horsepower present is indirectly proportional to attention span, and their owners tend to hop about making use of all those carbon credits – to the detriment of their fishing.

I managed to catch a largemouth and another 13 inch striper while pedaling in the area. The fact that every species will eat the same fly is a real treat.  Fly fishermen are quick to change fly if the fishing slows and it’s nice to simply face the mathematical odds of a fish being able to see your fly, and no activity means no fish, versus something more sinister like the wrong phase of insect or it’s abdominal color.

I swapped sides of the lake and fished down the rock jetty portion and landed a third Striper similar to the first.

2ndStriper600

To say I was ecstatic is an understatement. These fish are brutal fighters capable of towing my small craft in the ensuing tussle. I am rethinking a bit of my tackle in preparation for meeting the larger fish common to the area.  Currently I am tossing an 8 weight 10’ Echo on a WF floating line, but may need to increase capacity a bit to allow for additional brutish behavior should the fish be in excess of 10 pounds.

Towed into the center channel of the Sacramento would be thrilling until the first freighter appeared …

WhiteWhistlerr600

As I have an overabundance of Yellow NYMO thread, the Whistler’s tied above are tied with a few random changes. The classic is a white-red-white layering of the wing, but I also tie the fly with the red on top. I suppose some years I feel “extra bloody,” and some I adhere to the classic dressing.

In summary: The fish are starting to show but are not yet in great numbers. I have managed to land a Striper on a fly rod  – which was a Bucket List item, and while I’ve caught numerous Stripers on conventional tackle, am really impressed at their fighting ability on a light fly rod (and smallish fish).

Angling Conditions: Water temperature 58 degrees, ambient temperature 65 Degrees. One fish caught at low tide, one caught on incoming, one caught at full high tide.

Somewhere between a Float Tube and an Evinrude

Contrary to what you think of retirement, the reward is not being able to watch Saturday morning cartoons uninterrupted, rather it’s fishing  on weekdays while all the drunken Meatheads embody cartoons as they crowd the launch ramp on weekends.

After 30 years of toiling for CALFIRE, we parted on good terms and I took some  accumulated time on the books from pressing emergencies and late-night phone calls – and gifted myself a “Yak”, or fishing kayak,  and the ability to wield it in retirement whenever the mood suits me.

Fishing kayaks require a lot of thought and configuration to suit  fly fishermen, and I’m still learning what works and what doesn’t. How to optimize storage, how to NOT carry everything with me, how not to lose it all when I flip the boat, and more importantly – how not to leave anything on the deck without thinking about the coils of fly line underneath and how the kinetics play out when I release the cast …

Hint: Sploosh.

I’ll elaborate on my final configuration and more importantly – how to fish out of these shortly, once I’ve got enough hours to be a credible source. Fly fishermen have little experience fishing from boats that move  while casting –  and pedal powered kayaks allow both  versus having  to wield a paddle to move. Float tubes are stationary objects and prams bob contentedly in place but if your boat is moving while the cast is in the air a mess ensues as you have new things to snag with your line and new gods to invoke while swearing mightily at great puddles of fly line being run over by your boat.

HobieProangler360700

This week was the California Delta, and the pursuit of Striped Bass – which like every other gamefish I’ve targeted – gleefully thumb their nose at me despite my new “water-legs.”  While my pedal kayak and angling pastime has now been blessed as “heart healthy” by all lab coated professionals, the Striped Bass remained unimpressed and likely pirouetted around me while I pedaled around the confines of “Sherman Lake” and Sherman Island proper.

“Sherman Lake” is just a wide spot in the Delta at Sherman Island, and is a popular spot for duck hunters, striper and sturgeon fishermen (in the main channel), and hosts the occasional wind surfer or kayak angler. It is about 1.2 miles across and has five or six miles of bank ranging from rock jetties to dense Tule mats. With pedal power I can cross in about 15 minutes – but have to factor in drunken boaters, waves caused by wind or tides, and everything else that haunts a navigable body of water.

windfarm700

I did find seventeen new ways to penetrate my fat frame with really large and sharp fish hooks. All wounds were aided by bead chain eyes (Whistler), lead hourglass eyes (Clouser), and anything else capable of being lashed to a fish hook and able to turn a timid false cast into a lethal weapon.  Most involved  hastily applied tourniquets and a great deal of swearing, which may be why the bird watchers gave me a wide berth.

Kayak fishing in a heavily trafficked waterway is not for the faint of heart. Boat wakes and the boating curious can send enough water in your direction to give your small craft a fit if you’re not paying attention. Stability dictates your bisecting the oncoming wake with the bow of your craft, versus getting hit broadside by the wave, and the unwary angler can be sorting a tangle of running line, or netting a fish, unaware of the new threat and a little too much lean coupled with the arrival of the swell can lead to a rollover.

… which is why everything of value has to be tethered to your craft or should float unaided. Fishing vests are no longer an option as you need to wear a life jacket, so storage of all the little things; tippet dispensers, hook hones, and fly boxes has to be rethought as well.

Petite flies and the gossamer fly rods of stream fishing are replaced by those capable of hurling an entire chicken saddle or bucktail with ample lead. Casting skills are essential as you’ve got to impart lift to a rapidly descending Clouser Minnow, a fly which shares the aerodynamic profile of a paving stone, and with only a single double haul or you’re going to wear the fly instead of the fish.  Rods and flies are heavy, and casting them all day requires minimal “air” time; one roll cast to bring them to the surface, one false cast to get them aloft, one double haul to impart momentum – then fling the accumulated mass as far from you as possible to avoid injury.

Despite all of the environmental and platform changes, all of the rod and fly differences, and despite the vagrancies of migratory fish and tides, it’s comforting to know that my ignoble pal, the Sacramento Pikeminnow, is a delta resident – and while not as showy as a Striped Bass, has also been sucked South due to all the lawn irrigation in SoCal.

deltapikeminnow700

They’re quite a bit bigger and silvery versus the yellow variant in my local creek. The Good News is they retain their aggressive nature and swallow a six inch Clouser with as much gusto as smaller flies. It was a welcome grab given how much water I covered and how little I had to show for all that effort.

The first day I crossed to the West side and fished the Tule mats, with a lone Pikeminnow my only seduction. The second day I drifted the rock jetty on the East side and caught both Largemouth Bass and Pikeminnow but no Stripers. I saw a few fly fishermen in the main body but the frequency of their movement suggested their luck was identical to mine, fish scarce and Stripers scarcer.

DeltaBass700

I’ll continue to investigate the area as the tides permit. The fish are typically here most of the Winter, but tides determine the useful fishing hours and many occur too early or too late to fish.  Most folks familiar with the area insist on fishing the incoming tide but others like any tide movement, both incoming and outgoing. This is consistent with all the Striper fishing I did in San Francisco Bay – as the fish were active on any tide so long as it was moving.

Trip Log: External temperature 70 degrees. Fished the incoming high tide until slack tide. Water temperature 58 degrees. Flies used: assorted experimental ribbon yarn streamers, Flo Green Clouser, Shad Clouser, White Whistler.