Thursday, March 14, 2013
Sunday, February 24, 2013
The one thing I like to do the most is fly-fishing; the only thing I enjoy more than fly-fishing is sharing that activity with people. Of all the fly-fishing experiences I have obtain over the last seven years I found that the most fun experiences were the ones with beginners. I enjoy teaching people, not only are they learning a new skill but I’m getting them to appreciate the natural environment a little more. To appreciate something such as native brook trout, that could be lost for ever to the slightest temperature change, to appreciate something like tiny bluegills that there presents supports an entire ecosystem without them there are no predatory fish. The biggest thing I appreciate is for people who take time out of their lives and spend a day with my worthless life to go fishing. When someone bails on me when they said they would go fishing with me, lowers my self-esteem just a bit more. But when they do go fishing with me, it raises my self-esteem, and gives me a good reason to keep pursuing my most favorite activity of fly-fishing. A wise fly fisherman once sung “I got flies in my pockets, boxes full of dreams, So many places other people want me to be, Bills to pay calls to make guess they're gonna have to wait I'm busy doing nothin' In the North Country, Trout, Salmon all around no hotels not even a town Lay my head where it falls tonight, Wake up on the side of a stream cast my line tie on a dream, Waste another day chasing things with fins, Flies and fins are all I have, Some folks think its so sad, Coulda been a politician or scientist, One of these days I know I'm gonna die I work just enough to survive Spend my time chasing fish and tying flies.”
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Talking to people of the opposite sex is something I’m just god awful at, I never know what words are right and what aren’t. I only hope that whatever words I use will get good vibrations. Even if I did end up in a relationship I wouldn’t know how I got there. Then I think the only thing I’m good at is fly-fishing, how can I relate this to fly-fishing. Well I hate to say it women are like carp. But they are, to get a carp you need right fly, presentation, and conditions. The right fly for carp is something that imitates exactly what they are feeding on natural colors; I guess that would be the right word choice. If the fly is not presented perfectly the fish won’t eat the fly, they will get spooked and swim away. Your actions is got to be what the presentation is, if you act with a lot of humor it could work it also might not, if you act mature it could work it also might not work. The conditions, are the most critical when it comes to carp fly fishing, if the water is murky you won’t be able to spot the fish but if its to clear they can spot you to easily, if they are tailing there feeding aggressively if there not tailing there not feeding. I guess that have to come down to the moment of what’s happening, to kiss her or not to kiss her. Well you need all three of those to get the carp or to get the girl. A fisherman once said to me “If you ever saw a girl with eyes the color of a swordfish you would leave who ever you’re with and go with her”. So I guess I will have to wait till I find that girl with eyes of the color of a swordfish.
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
The most significant thing that happened in my life was my first ghost on the fly. When people here the word ghost, they think of that super natural being that can go through walls. But what I mean by ghost is the fish called the carp. It’s a slang term given by fly fisherman. You might wonder why a carp is called a ghost, because one second there in front of you and in next second they are gone. Generally people think carp are slow stupid fish, a nuisance for the environment, and are not a targeted sport fish. Well those people are wrong. Carp are intelligent, fast, strong, like with any other fish they’re essential, and a sport fish to some fly fisherman.
The journey begins on May 19th 2012, it was a Saturday, was an abnormally warm day for May, and my high school prom was on that day. The day began early in the morning around 7am, my dad and I got up ate a warm breakfast, put our 9ft 8 weight fly rods in the truck, put our canoe on the truck and set out for our trip. Our destination was Lake Quannapowitt in Wakefield Massachusetts. I never fished in this lake before so I didn’t know what to expect to catch. On our way over I ask my dad what we might catch in this lake. My dad told me that it was a warm-water lake so warm-water fish and that one of his social media buddies told him that there were carp in this lake. I never caught a carp on the fly before, but I tried so many times, on the Concord River, the Sudbury River, and some reservoirs with no success. Like with any of those other trips I would get excited to catch a carp but not get one. But I had a good feeling about this trip.
When we finally arrived at our destination my dad got out of the truck and walked down to the lake to look in the water while I assembled my fly rod. Immediately my dad yelled “Matt! come over here”. I dropped my fly rod and ran down to my dad’s side. He pointed to the murky water, a dark silhouette swimming in the shallow water. I looked at it closely and it was a huge carp. I waited in that one spot for a while and saw one after another. After my rod was assembled I made a few cast from shore before we launch the canoe. Soon after those bad casts all the carp disappeared, my dad and I set out on the lake to look for more fish. When we were in the canoe we had specific jobs, my dad would paddle and steer the boat, and I would stand up and spot for fish to cast to. My dad and I had many opportunities to cast to some fish but with no luck. After we paddled and fished by the boat launch in the north side of the lake, we decided to paddle over to the high bank across the lake in the east to try and find them over there.
When we got over there we did are jobs again. As I was sighting for fish I saw a cloud of silt, I looked closely and I saw a fishtail sticking out of water. Which is good sign that a carp was feeding aggressively. Immerging from the cloud of mud I saw a large carp appeared. Immediately I cast my fly 5ft in front of the path it was swimming. Before it went over my fly I moved it slightly so it would see the fly, I saw the tail come up out of the water on top of my fly, I waited five seconds, and then went to set the hook. Like a ghost I thought one second its there and the next second its gone. I spooked the fish, ever thing was perfect in those few minutes, I don’t know what went wrong. I was so frustrated I shouted F%$@! All the people on the shoreline just stared at me wondering why I was so upset.
When we were done fishing by the high bank, we paddled across to weedy side on the west coast. On our way over there, in middle of the lake we saw carp feeding on the surface and normally there bottom feeders. Seeing them feed on the surface calmed me a bit, I never saw anything like that schools of carp feeding on the surface. We tried casting to them with tiny dry flies but they wouldn’t hit the flies. When we paddled over to the weedy side we saw no fish just lots of weeds. My dad and I then paddled and fish up the coast back to where we started. I was still frustrated how I had that perfect opportunity with that fish, and I thought maybe it was fly, is that why it didn’t eat. So I changed it, I put on a fly with olive marabou tail, with olive zonker strip wrapped around for a body, with black bead chain eyes, and tiger color rubber legs. It was a hand tied fly I created, that sort of imitates a crayfish; I called it the Carpe Diem Fly.
As I made one more cast with the new fly and let it sink to the bottom, I started stripping in my line and my line went tight. I thought I was snag at first, but then I saw my line moving out deeper really fast. I didn’t know what I had on the end of my line. The battle had begun.
When whatever it was swimming toward the boat, my jaw dropped because it was a carp. Next thing that fish did was run hard my drag on my reel was screaming. The fish must have run 75ft cause he went into my backing. He then started swimming back to me and my line went loose, I thought the fish spat the hook or snapped the line, but it turn out the fish was swimming faster than I could reel in. The fish swam back to the boat and the drag went screaming again. I thought that fish would bend my rod 90º. I brought the fish back to the boat for the third time and my drag went screaming again.
Finally the fourth time was a charm we were able to net the fish. When I was able to pick up the fish he was that golden brown color, really slimy, and smelled extra fishy. The only way I knew it was a male carp because it spewed sperm all over my hand while I was holding it. My dad made a comment saying “You skipped prom but you still manage jack off your date” I laughed sarcastically not liking the comment. I released the fish and let him swim back to his domain. Now I understand why some fly fisherman respect these fish and not spin fisherman.
After the battle I shouted with joy and, tasted victory and the refreshment of ice-cold water that battle wore me out. While recovering from the battle I sent a text message along with a picture to my buddies and my girlfriend, saying, “I caught my prom date”. My buddies laughed and my girlfriend never responded, I guess she was still mad at me for not going to prom with her. She later said that she was proud of my achievement. All I could say now is that it is possible to catch any fish on the fly and, that’s one less fish I need to catch on the fly.
Saturday, February 2, 2013
When you go out fishing somewhere, the local bass pond or trout stream, what do you want to see when you get there. It could be the beautiful scenery; the wildlife could come strolling into view, but for me the one thing I want to see is the fish. I want to see the action of them striking that dry fly, the fight they put up against me, their vibrant colors, and then to see it swim away. That’s what I want to see when I go out fishing, but that’s not what always happens. What usually happens, I get excited expecting to get a fish strike, I get to river, get all rigged up and ready to go, make a couple of cast in one spot and then move on to the next one, I stay there till it gets dark, and when come to that time to go. When I leave with no fish my self-esteem gets lowered slightly more, when I can’t fool that dumb stock trout. I think to myself, I don’t even want to fish any more and if I don’t catch any thing its not worth going, but then I’m told maybe you should tie flies prepare a good mind set. So that’s what I do tie flies to clear the mind of all its frustrations. When I return to the river with a clear mind that’s when I do get a strike, I may have not caught the fish but getting a strike is just as good and I accept its not all about the fish. Its just being there is what it’s about.
Monday, January 28, 2013
In life I was never good at anything, from social skills to being intelligent. I’ve only found one thing in life that I do well at and that’s fly-fishing. So I figure if I try to relate everything to fly-fishing I may do better. When trying to fool that one 20inch trout you need the right fly and the right cast. So when meeting new people the right fly would be best choice of words and the right cast must be the way you act around them. And if you do manage to hook and land that fish you have a choice, will it be a keeper or catch and release. For me most fish its catch and release, and I rarely find any keepers or keep any. But there are still lots of trout swimming in the rivers and I guess I will eventually find my keeper. To translate your going to meet lots of people some of them will be worth keeping as friends and others are worth releasing. A wise man once said, “You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes well you might find, you get what you need”(Mick Jagger).
Monday, December 24, 2012
Twas the night before Fishmas, when all through the drought
Not a creature was stirring, not even a trout.
The creels were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St Salmon would soon be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their cots,
While visions of fish danced in their thoughts.
And mamma in her‘kerchief, and I in my vest,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s rest.
When out on the lake there arose such a splash,
I sprang from the bed to hear the next crash.
Away to the window I flew like a midge,
Tore open the shutters and looked out at the ridge
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature skiff,and eight rainbows like a mirror.
With a little old guide,so lively and spry,
I knew in a moment it must be the old sockeye.
More rapid than steelhead his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
"Now Artic! now, Grayling!now, Atlantic and Rainbow!
On, Brook! On, Brown!on, Chinook and Coho!
To the top of the porch!to the top of the wall!
Now swim away! Swim away! Swim away all!"
As white foam that before the wild river runs,
When they meet with the surface, they munch on the duns.
So up to the waterfall the coursers they flew,
With a skiff full of gear, and St Salmon too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the tin
The flipping and flopping of each little fin.
As I drew in my head,and was turning around,
Down the chimney St Salmon came with a bound.
He was dressed all in red and green, from his kype to his tail,
And his scales were all tarnished with sea kale.
A sling of gear he had flung on his back,
And he looked like an angler,just opening his pack.
His eyes-how they twinkled!his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.
The hook of a fly he held tight in his teeth,
And the hackle it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round slick,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of aspic!
He was chubby and plump,a right jolly old fish,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of my wish!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his fin aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!
He sprang to his skiff,to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all swam like a ballistic missile.
But I heard him exclaim,‘ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Fishmas to all, and to all a good-night!"