Dusty and a little windy

Kirk Morris, a friend in the ward, texted me earlier in the week and asked if I was free for fishing on Saturday (note that the subjunctive "were" is not used, since the following statement is rarely contrary to fact when fishing is involved). Not wanting to disappoint him, and having just completed putting everything back together from recarpeting two rooms, I had the green light to go. But Friday night, the outlook was grim, with winds forecast at 20 to 35 mph through the early afternoon on Saturday, not good for float tubing lakes as we had planned. We agreed to wait and see how things looked around noon the next day, and maybe hit a nearby lake if things were dying down. Saturday morning when I got up, the wind was barely blowing, well, for the TriCities at least, only 10 to 12 mph, and the weather stations in Quincy looked even better at 5 to 10 mph. So I gave Kirk a call, quickly got gear together, attached braided loops to the lead core line section I had bought a few years ago to go deep at Dusty after Tom schooled me on a similar trip early in the year, and we were off for Dusty.

 

Only three cars in the lot, which ended up being 4 fisherman from the west side who were worried about the wind on Lenice and came to check out Dusty instead. At the lake, I tried fishing the shore first, had a couple takedowns, but felt no fish. Only a few were cruising the shallows, and they showed no interest whatsoever in the fly. So I climbed in the tube and started trolling the standard olive leech and a green damsel while Kirk went to chironomids fishing towards the shore. Today he showed why he is the chironomaster. He landed 31, many from the outside of the weed bed off the inlet point, then a bunch more across off the point that divides the lake. I landed about 8 or so, alternating between chironomids and the leech. Lots of short or soft hits on the leech that were never strong enough to even feel the fish. However, the first one I hooked pulling the leech, I had about halfway in when the line went slack. Unhooked, I thought, until the line came in minus the lead core section I had recently added. The connection to my fly line had come off somehow, leaving the fish to pull around the section of lead core line.

 

Kirk netting one of many

Beautiful location to fight a fish

Nice little Dusty rainbow



The ticket on chironomids was a blackish snowcone, about size 14 or 16, with red wire ribbing. Fished deepish off the point in the middle, about 7 to 9 feet, only 3 feet by the weedbeds at the inlet. Kirk uses an indicator that pegs the line, then pops the line out when a fish hits it so the indicator slides down to the hook, allowing you to fish really deep if need be. Kirk, being a real fly fisherman, has tools that I don't have, like a stomach pump, so he found out the fish were full of really small chironomids, about size 22 or 24, grayish black. Having found that important information out, he proceeded to keep fishing the same fly. They didn't seem to mind the bigger flies.

 

Kirk and a typical dusty rainbow for today

Kirk found some nicer ones



Fish were mostly small and bright (well, Dusty small). Kirk got a few nicer ones and an ugly brown. All in all a great day. Next time fishing with Kirk, I think I will get two sausage biscuits instead of the number 8. That was the ticket today (and maybe a just a little more skill...)

 

Action shot

You call this a brown?

The lovely view of a place I love to visit

 





Grandpa Merrill @ FRC

Grandpa with the first rainbow of the season

Grandpa & Rob made an early season visit to the FRC this morning and were rewarded with bright, fat, feisty rainbows.  Weather was sunny and calm (as shown in the photo).  You know it will be a great day when the windmills in the hills surrounding Ellensburg are standing idle!

Grandpa got this one on a black bugger.  I tied on a shimmery cone-headed green bugger and was rewarded with other rainbows.  No action at all on the prince or other nymphs.  They were hungry and wanted food.  Very small mayflies had hatched and were dancing on the surface, but relatively little surface action.  Surface water temp was 48 so fish are still waking up.

The battery for my trolling motor decided to not hold a charge any longer so we ended up rowing, but it was quite nice when you are not fighting the wind.  :-)

A great way to start the week!

Last Day in Paradise

We switched up today, Rob fished with Shan, our guide/host from Red's flyshop, and I fished with Jim, who lives on the Yakima River near Thorp, WA. Rob found a barracuda and a few bones before the guides bamboozled them and took them back to a lagoon where they had found permit the day before. They spent a good part of the afternoon chasing permit, which lived up to their reputation as finicky, although Rob did fight one briefly. They would rather have chased and caught more bonefish, as Rick and Jim did all day. Although it was very windy again with the scattered clouds that seem to always appear right as a school of bonefish is approaching (the clouds make it so you can't see into the water at all in the distance and also spook the bonefish and send them scattering, as they think it is a predator flying overhead), we still had a good day. After finding a couple fishing from the boat, we dropped off and walked across a sand flat to a nearby lagoon. Promptly caught a nice bone sight fishing, then waded across and back without seeing another fish. As we neared two small cenotes (deep, blue holes in the limestone bedrock where fresh water from far inland rises, sometimes hundreds of feet deep), we saw a large school of bonefish rush by, spooked by our approach. With the wind and the waves, it was very hard to see fish, but for the next 45 minutes or hour or so, we had a steady stream of bonefish schools to cast too. Frequently enough, Rick got the fly in the right position and had many hookups and about a half dozen fish to hand. After lunch, we walked another lagoon and found more bones. With a little more shelter from the wind, Rick could see the fish better, and even cast to and caught a couple he had located on his own while the guide was scanning the more distant waters. Really fun fishing when that happens. We closed the day with a fabulous dinner of lobster tail with fried ice cream as desert. A great end to the week.

Rob's barracuda

Rob and Luis

Rob casting to bones on the flats

A nice bonefish from the shallow lagoon

Giving thanks

The fishing crew at Casa Viejo Chac

Great dinner as always

A special treat for dessert

 

 

We Show the Guides our True Nature...

In the mangrove swamp

Today we headed to the far south to try and find tarpon in the small channels of brackish water in the mangrove swamps. We spent the morning pushing the boat slowly up the narrow channel, Rick in front occasionally casting to tarpon that didn't appear very interested, occasionally pushing our way through tunnels of mangroves brambles. I guess this is the tropical equivalent of small stream fishing, without the fish....until near lunchtime, that is. At one corner in the canal, tarpon would occasionally swim down from around the corner, so Rick would toss the fly out, wait until they appeared, then start stripping. He had three takes, and fought a small one for a little bit before it came off. While waiting, Rob put on a small shrimp, and started to catch pinta, a brightly colored perch. Soon, sight fishing for the small pinta began to look more interesting than waiting for a larger tarpon to maybe have interest in the fly. After Rob had caught his fill, Rick took a turn around lunch time. He began to show the guides that a trout-set (lifting the rod) can be just as effective as the strip set, and with an 8-weight he could set the hook and fly the fish right to the guide all in one motion, explaining to the guides that this is what we called a "chester." We were laughing and joking - now this was like small stream fishing! I think the guides were amazed that their clients would be even interested in catching small fish, as they normally fish with people who will spend multiple trips trying to catch just one permit. We just want to catch fish! By the time we quit and went to look for bonefish, we had 50 pinta in the well for the guides to take home and eat with their families.

Rick and a pinta



Luis catching a pinta while we were eating lunch

We returned to the flats of the main bay to search for bonefish in the afternoon. Caught a few, had one cast to a tailing permit. Then at the close of the day, Rob got to cast to several schools of tailing bones in the very shallow flats. Hooked one, and spooked the rest. But it was fun to try. We had permit towels waiting for us in our room. One more day to go.

 

Rob and Luis looking for bonefish on the flats



Carribean blue is beautiful

The only permit we caught today

An unfinished house in Punta Allen behind the hotel

More bones...

South of Punta Allen

We headed a little farther south today to the Santa Rosa area where there are many lagoons separated by small threads of sand and mangroves. Access was through a narrow channel through a tunnel in the mangroves.

Tunnel through the mangroves

 

Once through the mangroves, we entered a series of beautiful lagoons, some very large, most of which you could wade just about anywhere and not be deeper than knee to thigh deep. Once the guides reached a spot in the lagoons somewhat protected from the wind (yes, it was windy again today!), we would start the search for bonefish.

One of the big lagoons in Santa Rosa

 Once found, the guide would tell you the direction and distance to cast to get ahead of the school, then tell you when to start stripping. With the wind and the clouds passing by, it was sometimes very hard to see what the guides saw and you followed on faith. When conditions were a bit better, we could also see the fish, which made the hunt a little easier and also more fun.

Strip! Strip! Strip!

 Once the fish were found and the cast put in the right place, the bonefish were generally quite willing to take the well-presented shrimp fly. They don't take and grab like a trout. The only way you know they picked up the fly is by listening to the guide (Set! Set!), seeing them pick it up yourself, or feeling resistance on your subsequent strip (they seem to pick it up between strips). Often it would be all three. Once set, the bones would take off in a screaming run, and the job was to keep the slack line from entangling around the reel, base of the rod, your hand, or anything else (Rick broke a few flies off when the line got caught this way). Once on reel, the fish were brought to hand, interrupted by a few more runs depending upon the size. Today we got quite a few to hand (or should we say, to lips, since we follow the well-established tradition founded by Rick's daughter, Jessica, of kissing the fish and telling them thank you before releasing them).

Rob with a good sized bone

A typical bonefish, not to large in size, but gigantic in fight!

Rick with a nice bone

 

The only way to keep the fish willing to keep taking your fly - be nice and gracious!

 

Sometimes we fished from the boat, one of us fishing in the front and the other relaxing in the back. When we found areas with good schools of fish, one or both of us would get out with our guide and wade the flats in search of fish. When the fish were there, this was the coolest! Today, Rob got out in a small lagoon with lots of fish, but they were skittish and he had to work carefully to avoid spooking them. Still, he managed to get several to hand. Rick was wading in a larger lagoon and came to a spot where for about an hour schools of bones would come by from one direction or the other. Sometimes they would be right on you before you saw them, and a simple roll cast was all that was required. It seemed you were almost standing on top of them when they took the fly. Other times were frustrating trying to throw the fly into the strong wind, only to have it drop far short of the school of fish. The guides were great for the willing learning, giving us tips and showing us ways to improve our casting. Next time our skills will be much improved (and perhaps the wind will be a little less!).

Rob wading the flats

 Returning home after a great day of fishing, we found new animals to greet us, and as always a fabulous dinner. Another great day!

Monkeys today!

More birds than fish...

North of Punta Allen, Mexico

Not all days of fishing can be great. The water was pretty rough heading to the south part of the bay, so the guides kept us in the more protected north part. Spent a lot of time hunting for fish. Rick had one bonefish. Rob had a couple and a great barracuda strike that didn't hook up. The barracuda, about 3 to 4 ft long, was suspended in the water about 20 ft in front of the boat. Rob tossed the fly to the side of it, started stripping it in, and in an instant, the barracuda turned and darted five feet to attack the fly, then turned back and ran off when the hook didn't grab. I have never seen a fish move that fast. I can see why Nemo's mom didn't stand a chance. Maybe we should have been using a clownfish fly...

Despite the slow fishing and a bit too much wind, we have had lots of pretty sights, some nice bird pictures, great food, and fun talking to the guides in Spanish. Tomorrow will be better.

Rob hunting bones with Luis

Finally took a picture of a bonefish

Model for the sand-people in Star Wars

Shore bird

Osprey

Crocodile towels

Lobster

Two more four-letter words for when you are fishing

Punta Allen, Mexico

One of the nice things about fishing in Mexico is you don't have to be looking over your shoulder and worrying about large mammals coming up behind you and making you their lunch. Just large reptiles, and they aren't quite as fast. Out on the flats while catching bonefish, Rick and Antonio, his guide, were watched by a crocodile from a distance. The croc was only about 5 ft long, but they grow to 15 feet. And the guides here say the same thing as the guides in Alaska about the bears - Oh, they are good crocs (bears), lots of fish to eat, so they don't worry about people.

The croc eyeing us while we were eyeing him

As for the fishing, we learned a new 4-letter word today to go along with "wind" - it is "nube", which means, cloud in Spanish. The wind makes it hard to cast and see in the water, the clouds blowing by and intermittently blocking the sun make it impossible to see into the water more than a few meters from the boat. Come to think of it, "croc" is also a 4-letter word that you would rather not use while fishing...

We spent the morning in the mangrove channels and lagoons looking for tarpon. Found several schools, but too far or moving the wrong direction. Rick had one good chance to hook a tarpon to complete his grand slam (permit, bonefish, and tarpon caught on the same trip), but when casting to a lone, cruising tarpon, the tarpon turned and crushed the fly on the surface. Seeing the splash, he forget all he had been practicing in his mind about strip-setting (setting the hook by pulling the line rather than pulling up on the rod), instinct took over, and he pulled up like he was setting the hook on a trout, and pulled the fly right out of the tarpon's mouth. The only chance of the day.

In the mangrove channels searching for tarpon

After lunch, we parked by a small island and walked the flats, finding decent numbers of bonefish. Walking in tropical warm water warmed by the sun is pretty awesome in March! Before dinner, Rob and I took a walk through town, talked to a couple people, and enjoyed the pretty flowers. An awesome dinner of tender flank steak with mango and kiwi crepes for dessert. Can't wait until tomorrow!

Our boat named "Natalie" parked while we walked the flats for bonefish

The beach in Punta Allen

A flower with a glowing star at the base of the floral tube, lit by light passing through from behind

Our towel was a snake today - maybe a crocodile tomorrow!

Permit Me to Post about Permit

Punta Allen, Mexico

First day of saltwater flats fishing. And first, Rob and I want to thank Tom for staying home and working this week so he could make his payment to Rob for buying the practice Rob and I could go fishing this week. Such a kind younger brother. He must do it because we were so nice to him when we would take him backpacking with us when he was young!

But on to fishing. Beautiful day, not too much wind, but more than we would like. First flat was bare for a while, finally ran into some tailing bones that Rick spooked when he missed hooking one (but it was a strip set, not a trout set). Next on to a little inlet, where there were a number of bones in deeper water, but only the little guys were interested in eating. That slowed down, so off to another flat. Shortly after we started drifting the flat, we came upon a tailing permit. To flats fisherman and guides, permit is the holy grail. Some are reported to have fished for years trying to catch one. You see them a lot, they are just hard to catch. So the guides were excited to find one actively feeding. Out hops Rick, Luis, the guide grabs Rob's permit rod, and off we go, wading into a good position for our attempt. It was moving laterally out from shore and we were following, then the tail disappeared. No! Not spooked! Then Chucho, the guide on the boat located the permit again back in closer to shore. We carefully waded back in, got about 40 feet away and prepared to cast. The permit did a couple wild splashes; this guy was hungry, which bode well. Rick did a beautiful false cast in the 20 mph wind and dropped it right where the guide said - well, not exactly. A little too far to the left, and the guide almost whacked him in the head, a quick pickup, and the fly was dropped about 10 feet directly in front of the permit. One long, slow strip, and the tail immediately started heading towards the fly. Second strip, the tail was right behind the fly. Third strip was interrupted by a heavy pull. Small strip set, slow lift, and off goes the fish heading for Cuba. More than half way into the backing before it stopped. Twenty minutes or so later, Chuco tails the fish. High fives and fist bumps all around. When Tom comes, he'd better bring Rob's pole, it has the magic. Rob's third fish was a permit, my fourth fish was a permit. That fish makes the day.

Rick and Chucho with the permit, on the crab fly

We finished up on a big sandbar with a school of bonefish and baby permit. Caught some bones, Rick pulled the hook out of a couple little permit and had a couple more chase. Rob dropped his fly into the middle of the school of permit and sent them scattering every which direction.

Rob and Luis on the flats

Rob fighting a nice bonefish

These things have incredible strength for their size

Then it was back across the bay, through the mangroves, to the dock and the short walk to Casa Viejo Chac, our home for the week. Waiting to see what tomorrow will bring.

Our home this week

The bathroom door in our room

Appropriately folded towels awaited our return