Birds and breaking water. The quick cast. The mad stripping of line, hand over hand. The hard set. And then the speed—the speed of the take, the speed of the run, and the speed with which you need to throw the fish back into the ocean, headlong, like a hand-launched torpedo. This is the experience of false albacore on the fly. The whole thing, a rush.
The false albacore are in -- and in good numbers. The Compleat Angler crew has had some excellent days of fishing for the past week. We wanted to take a moment to share some photographic highlights of our albie action. We definitely have the fever! Also, for those who like bonito fishing, we threw in a few photos of bones. Now get out there -- or book a trip with us and we'll take you out!
Ok, I admit it: I had a case of the summer blues. Bad. It started this spring, when everything was late. I went to the Gaspe, in search of my beloved Atlantic salmon, and found the river empty. The talk was about how the run was “late.” One fish, one hookup, and a year’s worth of anticipation, and I returned home. (Read my post and watch my video here.)
We at The Compleat Angler are big fans of GoPro: we have published a bunch of videos using them. We love them so much, in fact, that we've decided to give one away! How? It's easy: just enter a photo in our photo contest before Sept 8, 2014, and you'll automatically be entered to win a GoPro Hero3+ -- a $399 value. Pretty sweet, right?!
This June, I drove north to the Gaspé peninsula in search of Atlantic salmon. I’ve been very fortunate to have made this drive north almost every summer for the last 25 years. But this year would be different.
It is commonly said that fly fishing is a sport for gear heads. It's true -- there is a lot of gear. But after spending a part of my day in a high-end photography store, I wondered: just how much gear do I bring fishing?
Of the list of essential items that one needs to fly fish successfully in saltwater, I consider the stripping basket an absolutely essential item. It can also be an expensive one.
One of the reasons I love fishing is that it takes you to beautiful places in search of beautiful things. If you've ever held a tuna, or a salmon, or a trout, or any number of other fish, you know that these can be beautiful creatures.
First, they were south of me: schoolies in Rhode Island. Then, they were suddenly north of me: schoolies on the North Shore. It was like I was the bulls eye no one could hit -- until I hit it this afternoon.
In the spring, you dream of your next trip. You also dream of the trips your friends are one, are just returned from. In the spring, the reports start streaming in. Recently, friends have gone to the Bahamas, to Boca for tarpon, and to the Miramichi for Atlantic salmon. I've been thinking about this last one a lot, as my close friend Ben Moody went salmon fishing for the first time on the Little Southwest Miramichi.
If fly fishing is a sport of delayed expectations -- the long winter, the thousand casts -- then April, the historic start to trout season and often the month when early schoolies arrive, is typically the month of fulfilled expectations. This year, that may not be the case.
The water? 52 degrees. The air? A bluebird 65-70. The Hendricksons? Hatching with profligacy. The trout? Unseen and nearly unfelt. Such was our fate on the first of serious trout forays this spring. Though the catch was disappointing, it was a beautiful day on the river with a friend, and so a day well spent. Here’s the story.