by Kirk Deeter

Thanks to all you Fly Talk readers who chimed in with guesses on what type of fish this is, where it was caught, and what it ate.  To my surprise, many of you nailed the fish right away.  It is indeed an arapaima.  A good number of you also got the country right.  We caught it in the jungle in Guyana, near the Rewa River.  But nobody until the very end (and she is a ringer who no doubt heard me talking about this adventure on ESPN radio in Denver Saturday morning) got the fly pattern right.

Believe it or not, on the end of that strand of 80-pound fluorocarbon is a streamer fly that’s about seven inches long, and it looks like a peacock bass.  So while many folks go to the South American jungle to fish for peacock bass, we learned that to catch arapaima it’s good to fish with peacock bass.  For the record, the correct answers are: arapaima, Guyana, peacock bass imitation.

Since not everyone had the benefit of listening to Denver radio, however, I’m going to award the prize to smccardell, who got arapaima, the Rewa in Guyana, and suggested a 5″ whit fur strip diver (which, with the right cast at the right time, probably would have worked also).  Hit me with an email at editor@anglingtrade.com and we’ll arrange to get you your prize.  And Erica, I’ll make an IOU prize for you too, and thank you for listening.

This was part of an expedition sponsored by Costa Del Mar to help develop sport fishing in Guyana.  You’ll soon be seeing a story here on FieldandStream.com detailing the arapaima adventure.  And down the road, you’ll see more of this–and a trip Romano and I both took to Guyana’s tarpon coast and rivers (yes, that’s where the Tenkara tarpon happened)–appearing in Field & Stream magazine.

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by Tim Romano

The title of this post is a little misleading. While in theory these little guys are in a bucket, what you’re actually seeing here is 20,000 freshly hatched cut bow trout (a hybrid between a cutthroat and a rainbow) in what’s called an egg jar. 

This is where the little guys get blown around in freshwater at the hatchery before being let loose inside in small raceways when they get a little bigger and have consumed their egg sacs. After that, they are transferred outside and fed until they’re ready to be stocked in a river or lake. I found watching them to be pretty mesmerizing. I hope you do too.

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by Kirk Deeter

Most of you who follow FlyTalk might realize by now that Romano and I are both shameless streamer junkies. We’ll pound the banks from a boat, trying to turn big fish with blind casts, but we also like to wade and sight-fish streamers in low, clear water. Big flies catch big fish, to be sure. Yet in clear water, you have to make the right presentation for streamers to work well. While I’ve learned many valuable tips from streamer gurus like Kelly Galloup, who said, “You have to dictate the action, and not wait for something to happen,” the greatest streamer lesson I ever learned didn’t happen on a trout river, and it didn’t even involve a true streamer fly. 

I was fishing on Biscayne Bay in Florida with legendary flats guide Bill Curtis about 10 years ago. Bill was on the poling platform and I was standing on the bow, when a big permit that looked like an aluminum trash can lid gliding through skinny water came cruising into view. Without a word spoken by either of us, I locked my eyes on the fish and unfurled what I thought was the perfect cast: A water-loaded beauty that formed a tight loop, rocketed 60 feet through the air, turned the leader over, and plopped just a foot or two ahead of the fish. The crab fly landed exactly on the money, or at least where I wanted it to drop.

The permit didn’t spook at first, but as I started making gentle strips, lightly bouncing the fly into the feeding zone, it abruptly finned away.

By the time the fish split, Bill was already climbing off the poling platform, grumbling unmentionables under his breath. Having thought I made the perfect cast, I was crestfallen but willing to rationalize the episode via all I had heard about the notoriously fickle nature of permit. Still, on impulse, I asked aloud, “What in the heck happened? What went wrong?”

Bill looked me straight in the eye and deadpanned, ”Fish like that aren’t used to bait attacking them.”

Then he sat down behind the steering wheel, cranked up the boat motor and didn’t say another word. I let it sink in for a moment and then realized that I had been taught the greatest lesson that can ever be learned about catching wily, predatory fish with large flies; by a master in as few words as humanly possible.

Think about it and apply this reasoning to the trout world. Little, finicky trout like to sip helplessly-floating nymphs and dry flies — they demand to be “spoon fed.” But when they get big, they go after other fish. They also get smart, so when something swims toward their mouth, they don’t typically eat it.  

Learn to drop streamers where trout can see them, and then immediately make those flies look like they’re panicked and fleeing. It’s a simple concept that’s easier said than done. But if you figure that deal out, I guarantee you’ll unlock the secret to catching more and bigger trout, in any conditions.

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by Tim Romano

Here’s another sweet little bug from our friends at flyrecipes.com. It’s called the Banksia Bug (formerly known as the Patchouli Pupa) and was created by my friend and warm water fly fishing guru Jay Zimmerman.

“I began tying this fly to imitate the masses of free-living caddis larva in all my home waters here in Colorado and elsewhere in trout streams all over the West. 

I have rarely found good commercially available flies that can fill this niche. Its a very productive fly  because this particular caddis larva is a notoriously poor swimmer, often getting swept away in the current, making it an easily recognizable food organism and makes up a large portion of a trouts diet,” says Jay.

“I have found this pattern to work well in rivers with an abundance of small to medium-size stonefly nymphs leading me to believe my fly is suggestive enough for trout to mistake it for any number of long-bodied aquatic insects as well. With this in mind, I am now using this fly in lakes with equal success! I was hoping it could double as a case maker caddis larva, but have found it works exceptionally well in lakes with a lot of active damselflies.”

You can purchase the fly at your favorite fly shop that carries the ump qua brand or follow these instructions and tie it yourself.

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We had several churches outside our hotel room and while their bells were lovely, it proved a bit confusing since I have set the church bell chime as my ringtone on my iphone. I found myself jumping a lot to answer non-existent calls. But what a view to wake up to on our first morning…

First things first, my cousin Ashton and I (representing the overwrought, multi-tasking, 40-something mommy demographic in the group) kicked off the vacation with massages…

Later that afternoon Little Chick and I had an incredibly enjoyable walkabout…

The highlight was visiting the newly renovated St. Francis Cathedral Basilica. Breathtakingly beautiful inside and out…

Later that evening we feasted on a home cooked Italian meal at my Aunt Cita’s house. Despite the fact our family is not one iota Italian, we tend to gravitate toward Italian fare. My mom can cook some seriously good Italian food and we turned the whole night into a big celebration. Here I am with my cousin Ashton (awkward cropping is credited to someone from the 4th generation who was serving as photographer.) We are standing in front of another cousin’s painting, Dick Mason, who was a magnificently talented artist in Santa Fe.

The next day we ventured slightly out of town to one of my favorite haunts for lunch, The Tesuque Village Market. On our way back to Santa Fe we strolled through the Shidoni sculpture garden and bronze foundry.

That afternoon I did a little gift shopping at a delightfully ornate candyshop called Todos Santos.

I also made a point to stop in on one of the best spots in Santa Fe, the Georgia O’Keefe Museum. My aunt had tipped me off that an interesting exhibit had just opened the day before, “Georgia O’Keefe and The Faraway: NATURE AND IMAGE.”

It was well worth the visit. O’Keefe landscapes are iconic but this tiny exhibit really brought to life how much she truly loved being outdoors – not just to see a beautiful image for the purposes of painting it, but to be outdoors. The sheer power and joy of it. I realize now Georgia was quite the outdoorswoman.

The exhibit coordinated O’Keefe’s southwestern landscapes of Ghost Ranch and Glen Canyon with photographs of her camping in those very places. Mixed in were letters she had written about “sleeping under the stars” and her time in nature, which she called going to The Faraway.

I was particularly intrigued with the camping gear and clothing they had on display. The had her blue jeans, tennis shoes, denim shirt and a navy polka dotted scarf. Turn the corner and there are pictures of her camping in that very scarf. They also had her tent, sleeping bag and a variety of gear. It was pretty wild to see, I have to say.

Since for me it all comes back to rivers, I was most entertained by details and images of her on her multi-day rafting trips down the Colorado River to Glen Canyon, Utah. There is so much about this photograph that I love. The navy polka dotted scarf that I had just seen in the previous room, the look on her face, and most of all, the fact that Georgia O’Keefe was using those most talented hands to dig in and get the raft moving on some relatively flat water. Georgia on the sticks….too cool.

It was a fantastic trip and a very happy mothers day. Here we are, four generations, heading home through DFW…

Between Georgia O’Keefe and my mothers day weekend trip, it seems a fitting end to this post to share a wonderful quotation that a friend sent to me yesterday…

“Excellent women: May we be them, May we know them, May we raise them.”

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by Kirk Deeter

If you’re planning on visiting Colorado to do some fly fishing this year, you might want to do so sooner, rather than later. In stark contrast to last season when above average snowpack had rivers and streams brimming well past the 4th of July, this year’s abnormally low snowfall amounts have left many wondering if there will be any runoff at all in some watersheds.

Scenes like this surging spillway are increasingly rare. Denver is more than 35 percent below average rainfall for the year. Snowpack levels in some drainages are less than 20 percent. And many high country rivers, like the Colorado, Arkansas, and Gunnison are experiencing significantly (some historically) low flows.

Unless the skies open up soon, the outlook is that many rivers will be running at little more than a trickle this season, even below major dams. The Gunnison, for example, is expected to see peak flows of 900 cubic feet per second, with base flows around 300 cfs through the summer. By comparison, last year during runoff the Gunny raged at 15,000 cfs.

That’s certainly bad news for kayakers and rafters, and it may spell tough times ahead for anglers as well. However, if you look at the glass (or in this case river) half full, sometimes these low water years offer epic angling opportunities. For example, anglers almost never see a June stonefly hatch in low, clear water. In some cases, the dry fly action could go off the charts. And certain stretches of rivers that are normally floated will only be accessible to intrepid wading anglers. If you’re willing to hoof it, you’ll find plenty of solitude.

Of course, the real worry is over what happens later in the summer–typically the busiest season for shops and outfitters–if the moisture doesn’t pick up. The outlook in the northern Rockies is more positive. But the Southwest needs rain in the worst way. Granted, it’s all part of a natural cycle, but lately it seems like feast or famine when it comes to snowpack and water levels. This is one situation where being plain “average” sounds pretty darn good.

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by Tim Romano

This is a photo of my friend Russ Miller torturing himself with a 9-weight rod and full sinking line on Lake Granby last night. He was casting a double bunny fly that looked like a dead squirrel, so we decided to call it Bernie’s Bunny.

After shooting an episode of Hook Shots earlier this spring for giant lake trout on Lake Granby with uber guide Bernie Keefe, he asked if I’d like to come back up and try for the huge fish on a fly. It took me all of about one second to make my decision.

I’ve actually toyed with the idea for a number of years but was never really sure how to go about it. Landing 30- to 40-inch lake trout on a fly is a feat very few fly anglers have done, especially here in the lower 48. The window of opportunity is very small. You cast a lot for precious few shots at fish, and simply hooking one of these huge fish never ensures you’ll land it. Fly anglers might get a couple weeks in the spring and a couple in the fall when these large aggressive fish come up into the shallows to feed and spawn. After that, you better be willing to put down the long stick and start vertical jigging – deep.

We’ve now gone out twice with Bernie for a couple hours in the evenings to try and land what might arguably be the biggest “trout” most folks have ever landed on a fly rod. We almost accomplished our feat last night with two fish hooked up and five other absolutely huge submarines followed our fly all the way back to the boat. In the end, we simply couldn’t close the deal, but we had excellent shots and are going to give it one more try next week before the fish decide to return to the depths.

It was some of the most intense fishing I’ve done in a long time. My heart in my throat every time a fish would follow. Russ and I chatted on the way home, racking our brains trying to come up with a freshwater fly fishing scenario where one could land a 30- to 40- inch fish that might weigh 25 pounds or more on a fly here in the lower 48. The only thing we could think of were musky and pike, which also are fickle beasts and fish of a thousand casts. What am I missing?  

For more specifics on gear and tactics for giant lakers see Russ’ post over at Front Range Anglers.

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by Kirk Deeter

Take a close look at this photo Tim Romano took of Oliver White battling a small tarpon. You’ll notice something is missing… the reel. That’s because there isn’t one.

We just came back from a gonzo jungle expedition (in a place I’ll tell you about later) where we literally caught hundreds of trout- to salmon-sized tarpon every day. So to make things even more interesting, we decided to catch some on a Tenkara rod (Yamame). We landed over 50 tarpon on Tenkara, the largest weighed about eight pounds.

Now, believe it or not, a juvenile tarpon might be the ideal Tenkara fish. A five-pound bonefish is going to make a straight run and blow the rod apart. A five-pound trout in heavy current is likely going to snap you off (though I did see Chris Hunt land a laker and a northern pike on Tenkara when we were in Saskatchewan together last fall). But a five-pound tarpon almost always goes straight to the air when hooked, so the fight is more like playing yo-yo with a really long fly rod. The take is incredible: See a fish roll, plop a cast in the area with a Deceiver fly or some other small streamer, give a few twitches with the wrist, and bang.

They really should keep a record for the most Tenkara-caught species by one angler. That would impress me far more than some obscure IGFA line class “world record.”

I’m also sticking with my point that Tenkara might be the best tool for teaching new anglers fly fishing. One member of our group, Patrick Henry, had never fly fished before.  We decided to keep things simple for him: One Tenkara rod and one fly. He caught over three dozen fish that way. I think it’s fair to say that he is the first angler on the planet to have his initial fly fishing experience be catching three dozen tarpon on a Tenkara rod.

Fishing skill aside, the location was the main reason behind our Tenkara fest. We found tarpon Shangri-La in jungle creeks that looked liked they were boiling with tarpon, as they splashed and rolled in the black waters. I’ve never seen anything like it.  But you’ll have to stay tuned to find out where we were.

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by Tim Romano

Over the last nine months, I’ve been shooting a little underwater book project with my friend Geoff Mueller. We’ve seen and done some very interesting stuff, like hanging out with a NOAA biologist in Washington state, drift diving the Green River in Utah and visiting a state run hatchery here in Colorado to learn all about the life stages of trout.

While we were at the hatchery last fall, I decided to stick my camera into a raceway full of smallish rainbow trout right as they were being fed. The ensuing melee was expected as drone stockers fought each other for trout chow, but fun to watch none the less. Enjoy.

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I love anything that smacks of 60s style. For example I adore this picture that Stanley Marcus took (in his book ‘Reflections of a Man’) in Acapulco 1962.

Another story for another day I will share why I worship Mr. Stanley (hint: he was one of my bosses in my second job!) but for now just know I am thoroughly inspired to have a 60s style Mexico trip. So imagine my instantaneous envy last week when I saw this tweet by beloved resort wear designer Trina Turk:

A dashiki…FABULOUS, I SHOULD SAY! Finally someone was validating my secret dashiki love. Hers was to die for, here’s her picture:

Understandably I had to have one. Stat.

So within 90 seconds I had scoured ebay and bid on a dashiki of my own. Because I am a somewhat competitive ebayer, I hit refresh 20-40 thousand times until I confirmed my victory. With exactly zero other bids and a mere $9.99 I won a new-with-tags authentic African Dashiki, made in India. Shipping from Lawrenceville, GA.

With a dashiki on the way, I decided to do a little recon on the history of the dashiki. According to Wikipedia, “The dashiki is a colorful men’s garment widely worn in West Africa that covers the top half of the body.”

Of course most of us recognize the dashiki as an iconic garment from the civil rights movement of the 1960s.

Oh, but I think Trina Turk and I are onto something here with the au courant dashiki fashion statement. In this concert review, we see badass Austin musician Black Joe Lewis rocked the dashiki just last month. (Is it just me or does his look a lot like the one Trina nabbed?)

Since I am sure you are on the edge of your seat, yes, my dashiki arrived in the mailbox yesterday. My first impression was the odd smell as I ripped open the envelope, but I quickly forgot the odor when this surprise goodie fell out.

Oh my. A Gift With Purchase. How apropos, since Stanly Marcus was the one who originally invented the Gift-With-Purchase and he is the nascence of my 60s inspired Mexico moment. But honestly I would have preferred a lipstick case or travel makeup bag instead of this teeny little man cap.

Which I’ve since learned is called a KUFI and is a very traditional African accessory with a dashiki. Apparently it is worn by “wise elders”. Yes, that suits. I think we will exude the essence of “wide elders” on this girls trip in Mexico. No, no tequila shot in a test tube for me, my friend. Don’t you see I wear the kufi?

We have had lots of laughs in this house over my attempted treasure-hunting fashion moment. I offered it as a coverup to Little Chick for her pool party last night but she laughed in my face as she bluntly declined. The Professor was later seen trying on the dashiki and kufi but the blurry pictures of him running through the house like Sasquatch are under lockdown a la J. Edgar Hoover style.

Meanwhile Lord only knows what sort of direct marketing list I am on since the ebay seller now has my name and mailing address. Rest assured if the Black Panthers make a comeback I will most likely be invited to the Lawrenceville Georgia regional kickoff picnic.

The jury is still out on the success of my own turnkey dashiki. But strange odor aside, I will be rocking it poolside in Mexico in just over a week. I’m not afraid.

That said, a little insurance never hurt anyone. So today I picked up this Trina Turk maxidress cover-up just in case my cheeky dashiki is a little too freaky.

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