THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, July 24, 1994 TAG: 9407240216
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: C12 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BOB HUTCHINSON
LENGTH: Medium: 85 lines
Probably my biggest fishing surprise came a few years ago when Charlie Johnson of Suffolk and I were fly-casting for big tarpon on the gulf side of the Florida Keys.
Charlie, who has since become an accomplished saltwater fly fisherman, was just learning. After watching him for a few minutes, I offered to show him a couple of things to add to his distance.
About 80 feet is my limit. But probably because of a stiff tail wind, my first cast went about 100 feet, landing over some dark grass. Maybe good fishermen can see tarpon that far away, but I can't.
Anyway, I had stripped the line a couple of feet when the placid waters of Rabbit Key Basin exploded. The biggest tarpon I had ever seen cleared the water by 10 feet. My 3-inch streamer was lodged in its top lip.
Two hours and 20 marrow-chilling jumps later, with the fish at the boat, Charlie removed the fly. Slowly, the tarpon swam away.
The point is that sometimes in saltwater fly fishing, a few extra feet can make the difference.
Learning to fly-cast didn't come easy. It took years. I wore out three or four $40 fly lines practicing on the macadam street in front of the house. I had marked off 10-foot increments along the street and could tell how much distance I was getting.
I practiced, practiced, practiced. That seemed my only choice.
Every so often, a new group of wannabe saltwater fly fishermen comes along. Most want to become experts overnight. Or at least good enough to catch fish.
Over the years, I probably have received more calls about saltwater fly fishing than anything except flounder fishing on the Eastern Shore. Yet I rarely see anyone out flailing the waters of the Chesapeake Bay with a fly rod.
One such call came recently from Tom Savage, who, with his brother George, operates a drugstore on the Eastern Shore.
Tom is a splendid fisherman who has become a little bored with the normal approach and is interested in fly fishing.
A few days later he told me he had caught spadefish with his fly rod. I congratulated him on learning so quickly and asked what fly he had used.
``Well, I didn't exactly have a fly,' he replied, sheepishly. ``I tied a hook on the end of a monofilament leader on the fly line and put a piece of clam on it. Then I let it float with the tide.''
A shortcut to success. But I guess you have to start somewhere. At least he had the thrill of using a fly rod.
Claude Rogers, former director of the Virginia Salt Water Fishing Tournament, and I were wading a small creek behind Hatteras Island a few years ago, looking for speckled trout with conventional casting gear.
I jammed a fly rod into the pocket of my waders. The thing stuck up like a boat antenna as we waded, prompting Claude to make fun of the way I looked.
Eventually, we found some fish. I put the casting gear up and started casting with a small streamer fly.
After my fourth trout, Claude said: ``Let me try that thing a couple of times when you get tired.''
Anyway, I usually tell callers that a fly rod is about the most ineffective means of catching saltwater fish yet devised.
But it's also the one of the most thrilling and ego-salving. Just don't pay any attention to your fishing companions and their inevitable kidding about how they caught more fish on their conventional gear than you did.
Now that you have a better grasp of what fly-casting is all about, if you still want to learn, there are a couple of things you can do.
First, don't wear out any $40 lines practicing on a stone road.
Instead, before you pick up a rod, go to a tackle shop and buy or rent a good how-to video on the subject. There are several. And make certain you get it's a ``how-to-cast'' video, not a how-to on catching a certain species. Another good idea is to obtain a well-illustrated book on the subject.
The best way to learn, however, is by getting an accomplished caster to teach you. Maybe you have a friend. Or maybe you can attend one of the fly-casting schools held around the country.
If you insist on going it alone, at least get a video. Watch it several times. Then go out on the water and practice under realistic conditions. It helps to learn how to pick the line out of the water. A dock or pier is better than a boat. You should even tie on a 9-foot leader and a small fly from which you have cut the barb. And then practice, practice, practice.
If after a month you don't agree that fly-casting is the most ineffective means yet devised for catching saltwater fish, you'll be a better caster than I.
But you also will have opened the door on a fascinating and rewarding sport. It's a way to take your fishing fun to the next level. by CNB