I’ve been guiding here in Hilton Head for well over 25 years and am very blessed to live in this beautiful place we call the Lowcountry. The best part about being a guide here is doing what I love while sharing this amazing fishery with visitors.

A frequent question I get is, “When’s the best time of the year to fly fish in Hilton Head?” My answer always is, “Every month has magical moments as long as the weather and tides come together.” Below is a synopsis of the seasons and species this part of the country has to offer, along with some commentary on equipment and terminal tackle.

Touching on gear, fish species, and time of year
by Captain Brain Vaughn

Winter (Redfish)

If you happen to visit during the winter months, considered the off-season for tourism in Hilton Head, you’re in for a treat. Some excellent opportunities exist to catch schooling redfish that can range anywhere from 1 to 12-plus pounds. Air temperatures average around 60 degrees but can dip well below that mark when a cold front pushes across the country. The colder weather causes the redfish to school up—and they do. Schools of hundreds of fish are usually found on the lower tides on mud flats, in front of creek mouths and oyster rakes. Sight fishing these schooling redfish is best on sunny days with light wind using a 7- or 8-weight rod with a weight-forward floating line or a floating line with an intermediate clear tip for deeper flats or for presenting to fish in crystal-clear water. Tapered leaders of 9 to 10 feet with 16- to 20-pound tippet are best, especially when fishing near oyster beds. As far as flies are concerned, many patterns work, but when I’m fishing clear water I prefer light-colored or flashy flies, as the client and I can easily track them while leading a fish. When the water is dark-colored or muddy and you’re casting to waking fish or mud puffs, larger patterns work best. When dressing, layer accordingly. A light waterproof shell jacket, a fleece, and a base layer should be all you need. Early mornings can be pretty chilly to start, but be ready to shed some layers as the sun warms throughout the day. You’re still in the South.

Spring (Redfish, Cobia, Tripletail)

During the spring months as the air and water temperatures rise into the 70s, baitfish schools, shrimp, and crabs start moving back inshore, getting redfish fired up bigtime. Baitfish patterns and topwater flies can be very effective on the flats and over oyster rake mounds on the middle of outgoing and incoming tides.

The species that comes to mind first when asked about my favorite fish on fly in the Lowcountry is the cobia. Cobia could possibly be the biggest of all the fish that migrate into our sounds and nearshore waters, but they also have the smallest window of opportunity, with only a month to six weeks of prime action per season. Late April through mid-June is prime time to sight fish cobia on the surface. The perfect setup is a 10- or 11-weight rod matched with a floating line and a 9-foot leader ending with a short piece of 40- to 50-pound bite tippet tied to a baitfish or eel pattern. Cobia can range anywhere from 10 to well over 50-plus pounds and are usually are spotted pushing a small V wake on the surface, especially on warm days with glass-calm conditions.

May is the month that cobia spawn in the sounds and rivers that surround Hilton Head and Beaufort. During the entire month of May, cobia are strictly catch-and-release. This was implemented by the South Carolina Department of Natural Resources (dnr.sc.gov/) two years ago to help their stocks return to normal. I’ve already seen a significant increase in their numbers over the last two years, and I expect this trend to continue throughout 2020 and beyond.

Tripletail are also a treat to encounter during the spring, but they can be very difficult to spot. They’re masters of camouflage and like to hang underneath floating debris such as driftwood and marsh grass. A 8- or 9-weight rod rigged with a small crab, shrimp, or baitfish pattern will work like a charm if you find one laid up on the surface or sitting below a piece of wood or grass. Tripletail range in size from a 1 to 15-plus pounds. My best is 16.8 pounds, taken on a red-and-white Lefty’s Deceiver, which set the IGFA 20-pound tippet record in 2010. The previous record stood for over 20 years.

Summer
(Redfish, Jack Crevalle, Spanish Mackerel, Bluefish, Ladyfish, Tripletail, Tarpon)

Summer is a melting pot of species to target on fly, but it’s hard to beat the summer flood-tide redfish fishery we have here in the Lowcountry. I’ve caught my share of redfish on fly over the years, but to this day my heart starts pounding when I see those fish, head-down in a foot or less of water, sucking up fiddler crabs, their spotted tails waving in the air like a flag. A 7- or 8-weight outfit matched with a floating line and a 9-foot tapered leader with 16- or 20-pound tippet is perfect for this fishery. Crab, shrimp, or baitfish patterns with weed guards are great for flood-tide reds.

Our nearshore artificial reefs and sandbars off the beaches here in the Lowcountry offer some incredible action for Spanish mackerel, bluefish, ladyfish, and small jack crevalle. On the right day, you can catch all of these species and even have a shot at a tripletail. It’s very possible to start or finish the day with a redfish, completing the ultimate nearshore Lowcountry slam.

When fishing the nearshore wrecks and sandbars, I recommend an 8- or 9-weight floating line and a 9-foot leader with a bite tippet of tough, flexible coated wire, which is ideal for toothy critters like bluefish and Spanish mackerel. Clouser Minnows or other baitfish patterns with some flash work great on all of these fish, but be sure to have a good stock of flies in your box, as those toothy fish will shred the fly like a food processor.

A summer fishery I really enjoy is the jack crevalle. Pound for pound, crevalle are the strongest fish that swims in our waters. They start to arrive in late June and stay through September. These big jacks can be found inshore in pods of a few fish to hundreds of fish. They average 20 pounds here but can exceed 30 pounds. Use a 10- or 11-weight fast-action rod with a large-arbor reel spooled with a couple hundred yards of backing, as you will for sure be getting well into your backing if you hook one of these big fellows. Use a 9-foot leader with a short piece of bite tippet of 40 to 50 pounds. A baitfish pattern or popping bug will do the trick, as big jacks are very aggressive in close. They’re an extremely fast, powerful fish, and you can expect a 30-plus-minute battle and sometimes it can take hours. On September 18, 2018, after a three-hour battle, I set the IGFA 8-pound tippet record by catching a 35-pound jack that broke the previous record of 31 pounds, held since 1983.

Tarpon run as well during the summer months, but the majority of the time they’re found in deep channels, where they’re caught off of the bottom using bait. However, there are days when you’ll find them rolling on the surface. When this opportunity presents itself, use an 11- or 12-weight outfit to present a large baitfish pattern. This sometimes entice them to eat.

Baby tarpon from 1 to 10 pounds are abundant in certain saltwater ponds and lagoon systems that get a fresh flow of salt water from flood tides. These baby tarpon are a blast to catch using a 7- or 8-weight rod. I prefer small white baitfish patterns and especially Clouser Minnows.

Fall (Redfish, Trout, and Offshore Redfish)

Fall is a great time of the year for redfish and sea trout inshore in the creeks and on the flats. Redfish can still be found tailing in the spartina grass flats until the water temperatures dip into the 60s, usually mid- to late November. Then the focus shifts more toward fishing at the time of low tide, as the redfish begin schooling up as they do during the winter months. You can also target speckled sea trout, as they’re very abundant in creeks and can be caught using a 7- or 8-weight rod using small white or chartreuse baitfish patterns or Clousers.

One of my favorite fall fisheries is the big bull redfish—25 to 30 pounds—found offshore in deep water. We use 10- or 11-weight rods rigged with fast-sinking lines and large baitfish patterns. These big reds can be found on artificial reefs or on ledges that hold baitfish. Dolphins and diving birds are usually a good sign you’re in the zone for a shot at one of these big fish. Of all the fisheries we have here in the low country, this one’s the most fickle and spotty. These fish are constantly moving, following the migrating schools of baitfish, and they can be there one day and gone the next. Finding a day with calm seas and light winds can be chancy in the fall and winter, so you have to be rigged and ready to go. Hope that the birds are doing their job to help you find the fish when do get the chance—because when it’s on, it’s on.

Bio: Captain Brian Vaughn is a Hilton Head native and has been guiding the area for more than 25 years. He’s an amateur photographer and has a wealth of information to share about fishing the Lowcountry. While you can sometimes find Brian at Southern Drawl Outfitters (southerndrawloutfitters.com), it’s probably best to email him at captainbrianvaughn@gmail.com or visit his website (offthehookcharters.com/ ).

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More saltwater fly fishing blog posts:

Amazing Autumn Fly Fishing

Eating the Lowcountry

Simple Redfish Fly

Fly Fishing the Lowcountry – Part One

The post The Lowcountry: Part Two – Species, Seasons, Selections first appeared on Tail Fly Fishing Magazine.

The post The Lowcountry: Part Two – Species, Seasons, Selections appeared first on Tail Fly Fishing Magazine.

Along with the growing popularity of the Lowcountry in general, our fishery has been gaining more exposure as well. Photos of vibrant redfish tails amongst a backdrop of spartina grass have made their way into every fly fishing magazine, blog, and social media outlet on Earth. And rightfully so. It’s an amazing spectacle and a fishery that should be on everyone’s bucket list. And now that it’s on your bucket list, let me explain how it’ll probably be the easiest entry to scratch off.

In case you didn’t see the movie of the same name, a bucket list is a list of indulgences that you would like to engage in before you die. These items are typically spoken about and dreamed about, but they’re rarely acted upon due to their low rank on your list of priorities. However, family vacations generally rank very high on your list of priorities! Telling your significant other that you want to leave her—or him—with the kids for a week to spend thousands of dollars scratching a personal itch is a shaky conversation. Talking to your significant other about taking the family on a beach vacation, on the other hand, is much more positive.

Let’s not get bogged down in the details of how to sell the trip to your significant other. You’ll know best how to pitch it. This is a world-class vacation destination that has something for everyone, so it should be an easy sell.

I do, however, want to talk about scheduling your fishing trip—er, I mean family vacation. When you come can greatly affect the fishing. I realize that sometimes you can only go when you can get the time—work schedules, school schedules, etc.. Four randomly picked hours to try to make it happen for the client is often all we get as guides, and we can appreciate your struggle between family time and personal time. I’ve run last-minute trips on off tides and had great results many times, but having a little flexibility in your schedule can really set you up for a much greater chance of success.

Tide is everything. Redfish tailing on flood-tide flats is not something that’s available every day. Quite to the contrary, it’s an anomaly, happening only a few dozen days per year during the warmer months. Fortunately, flood tides are very predictable, based on lunar cycles, with only a degree of deviation in long-range predictions. I make my fishing plans according to the lunar cycle and then adjust according to the actual tide levels as the date approaches.

How lunar cycles impact tide fluctuation is generally consistent throughout the Lowcountry, but how they’ll affect a specific flat is far more individual and is based on the flat’s elevation above sea level. Different flats will be at different elevations, so knowing what stage of the tide a particular flat will be ideally flooded to hunt redfish is the result of local knowledge—that is, trial and error—and is something that cannot be Googled.

Below I’ve shared with you my list of flood-tide dates for 2020, which I’ve compiled to help clients schedule their trips—that is, their family vacations.

Potential Flood Tides for Hilton Head / Bluffton 2020

May: 4th (p.m.), 5th (p.m.), 6th (a.m.), 7th (a.m.)

June: 2nd (p.m.), 3rd (p.m.), 4th (p.m.), 20th (p.m.), 30th (p.m.)

July: 1st ( p.m.), 2nd (p.m.), 3rd (p.m.), 4th (p.m.), 18th (p.m.), 19th (p.m.), 29th( p.m.), 30th (p.m.), 31st (p.m.)

August: 1st (p.m.), 2nd (p.m.), 16th (p.m.), 17th (p.m.), 18th (p.m.), 20th (a.m.), 21st (a.m.), 27th (p.m.), 28th (p.m.), 29th (p.m.), 30th (p.m.), 31st (p.m.)

September: 13th  (p.m.), 14th  (p.m.), 15th  (p.m.), 16th (a.m. and p.m.), 17th  (a.m.), 18th  (a.m.),  19th  (a.m.), 20th  (a.m.), 21st  (p.m.), 22nd  (p.m.), 23rd  (p.m.), 24th  (p.m.)

October: 12th  (p.m.), 13th( pm), 14th  (a.m. and p.m.), 15th  (a.m.), 16th  (a.m.), 17  (a.m.), 18th  (a.m.), 19th  (a.m.), 20th  (a.m.), 21st  (p.m.), 22nd  (p.m.)

Now that you have some potential dates for your family vacation, I suggest you check availability. There are a number of good guides in the area, but prime dates book quickly. so don’t wait too long.

Be realistic in your expectations. I always suggest booking as much time as you can (but this is subject to your financial and marital considerations). A single half-day trip may not be enough time for you to experience success. The good thing about fishing for tailing redfish in the Lowcountry is that cloudy, windy conditions don’t kill your chances as the would in some other fisheries. We might not be able to fish the flat that we want to fish due to the wind, but with all of our barrier islands we can always find a leeward side. Also, overcast conditions don’t really matter when tails are sticking out of the water. So if all you have is one morning or one afternoon to sneak out, do it and have fun. At the very least, you’ll get to spend some time on the water in an amazingly beautiful place.

by Josh Boyles
Photos: Paul King

Bio: Josh Boyles was born and raised in the Lowcountry. When he’s not guiding around the Hilton Head/Bluffton area, he’s hosting destination trips throughout the Caribbean. You can contact Josh through Southern Drawl Outfitters (southerndrawloutfitters.com)

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The post Fly Fishing the Lowcountry – Part One first appeared on Tail Fly Fishing Magazine.

The post Fly Fishing the Lowcountry – Part One appeared first on Tail Fly Fishing Magazine.

What fish? you may ask—well, I’ll tell you. What say you to flounder the size of doormats? How about bright blue and copper tails of redfish, making the subtlest of disturbances in the flooded swaths of spartina grass? Perhaps one should mention the seatrout: silver, speckled, dog-toothed rockets absorbed with the single and singular task of murdering hapless marsh baitfish in the channels and open pools one happens upon paddling between the islands.

One is surrounded by life in the marshes of Lowcountry South Carolina—a million subtle but obvious lives and past lives. That’s what makes it so compelling. I’m never just fishing here; I’m immersed in the current of cultures going about their business. Perhaps it’s the feeling of enjoying something fully without really mattering to it. Perhaps it’s the indifference of Mother Nature that makes saltwater fishing so enjoyable. Big white cranes staking out their tidal rivulets for mullet, dolphins breaking the surface in the bays, fiddler crabs moving in and out of their burrows in the pluff mud—skating through in my kayak does little, if anything, to interrupt their daily machinations. Then there’s the acute spirit of all that’s come before—new oysters beginning life on the shells of the dead, listing pilings rotting away as the only remaining evidence of a home that couldn’t withstand the proximity to the impartial ocean, a barnacle-covered rope washed up on a bank that used to tether a forgotten crab trap, the nest of a fish hawk that may be revisited and rebuilt next year, or may be passed up in favor of a new tree with a better view of the food supply below.

Food of past and present is another inescapable flavor of the Lowcountry. Everywhere I turn, I’m reminded of food in one way or another—not least the complex food web I paddle into while fishing, forcibly pushing my way into the daily life of a redfish by replacing one of its mud-minnow meals with a mud-minnow imposter, like a bakery delivering a Styrofoam display birthday cake instead of the real deal. But marsh food chain aside, the omniscient industry and end-product of food culture can be viewed from water or land, canal or road, skiff or truck. Should I ever drive over the Intercoastal Waterway without seeing shrimp boats at rest below, waiting for the next early morning mission, it would be as if life had ceased in South Carolina. Without charter boats filled with tourists jigging for flounder—though not necessarily my idea of great sport—the tidal byways would seem empty, dead, wrong.

Past and present traditions of eating the region’s food are intertwined with the cultures, the heritage of the Lowcountry; perhaps none is as important as that of the Gullah. Communities of slaves brought to work the rice fields of the sea islands—isolated from much of the mainland, resilient in health and in spirit, and persevering in preserving a deep connection with their African heritage—they developed a unique culinary oeuvre rooted in creole elements, fresh and seasonal seafood, and rice. The proud heritage is preserved to this day; among other places, it’s on display in force at Gullah Grub, a standalone restaurant in an old two-story southern house on St. Helena Island near Beaufort, South Carolina. You don’t go to Gullah Grub for hip gastronomy, self-absorbed alternative takes on southern classics, or a cloth-napkin dining experience; you go to have seafood and barbeque done simply, perfectly, honestly, and traditionally. The barbeque is smoked with wood, the cornbread is baked fresh, and the rice is steamy and rich. The crab soup and gumbo ensure every single ingredient has a distinct voice while retaining the bold chorus of their combination. And, if you’re lucky, you may meet Bill Green, proprietor and chef and compulsively beaming icon of Gullah culinary spirit.

And that’s just one restaurant. Seafood joints line the shores here. That’s not unique to South Carolina, of course, but the seafood immersion here seems more complete than in other places. I can fish my way through the marsh to the open channel, paddle behind the shrimp boats, and pull up to a dockside crab shack. U-catch to wholesale to retail and back again, all in a single tide cycle–pretty darn good!

The specialties at seafood shacks or restaurants in the Lowcountry are numerous–as regional food goes, the Lowcountry isn’t a one-trick pony. The she-crab soup soothes with smoothness, richness, and sweetness; the hushpuppies are crisp on the outside, gooey on the inside, and heavy on the onion; and the Lowcountry boil–shrimp, potatoes, corn, and sausage steamed in Old Bay and dumped out on newspaper–must be eaten with one’s hands.  If the food coma doesn’t get you, you can fish around the tide cycle in the Lowcountry—never is there a dull moment in the marsh. Work flooding grass for feeding redfish winding their way onto the flats with the incoming tide; move to seatrout in flooded bays; swing creek outflows for flounder on the outgoing; or fish wide, expansive flats for laid-up schools at low tide. And that’s just the fishing; I’ve not even mentioned throwing crab traps, jigging for seabass, or collecting your own bucket of oysters.

And there are hazards, to be sure. Most are related to oyster shells or the thick, sucking mud–sometimes both. There was the time my most gung-ho of fishing companions, R., pitching soft plastics into a tidal creek, stepped in mud up to his knee, and after a protracted struggle to extricate himself, came up less one sandal. Between him and more solid land sat menacingly stood oyster bar, which he attacked with one shod foot only. Needless to say, he left blood tracks on the floor of the rental house that night. There was a lot of blood. (And the poor guy was already a tad low on blood as it was, having just gotten a large tattoo of a redfish tail on his chest a few hours earlier, which he commemorated by hooking and landing a 40-pound beast in a golf course pond.) On another occasion, I left my buddy C.—I’m beginning to think he actually seeks out fishing misery—for all of 15 minutes to return to find him poling his kayak through mud and oyster shells from which most of the water had already departed, taking on the consistency of rapidly congealing soup.

Tribulations and triumphs of a day spent in the Lowcountry marshes create an appetite that can only be satisfied by the food of the area. It’s that cycle of life that refreshes and delights. The rewards for a day of fishing are not only the sights and sounds of the marsh, but also the spirit of cultures that have come before and persevere still; it’s not simply the bent rods and the eagles nesting on little grassy islands, but also the oysters I’ve collected myself, grilled in the half shell with a bit of butter.

James P. Spica Jr. is a regular contributor to Tail Fly Fishing Magazine

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The post Eating the Lowcountry first appeared on Tail Fly Fishing Magazine.

The post Eating the Lowcountry appeared first on Tail Fly Fishing Magazine.

Stepping off the plane, we didn’t know what to expect from our first trip to New Orleans. The trout rods my buddy Parker Thompson and I were used to in western Virginia were only recently replaced by rods with full Wells grips and stiffer graphite. The redfish bug had bitten us hard, so Louisiana quickly jumped to the top of our list. The summer heat seeped through the cracked windows of our classy rented Nissan Sentra as we rolled in style through the city. Images of crawfish, Mardi Gras, and redfish played on a loop in my head as we maneuvered our way to our spot in Chalmette. It was still early afternoon, and we had a whole night to explore before our five a.m. wakeup call.

Although our sedan earned us no style points, the narrow crowded streets and limited parking of the French Quarter made us satisfied with our choice. After eventually finding a spot, we headed straight for the walkway along the banks of the Mississippi River, which we had caught glimpses of through the gaps in the historic buildings. The architecture and culture was unlike anything we had experienced. I have been fortunate enough to visit 43 states in our great country and countless cities within, but this was unique. The smell of spicy food drifted through the streets carried on the back of the faint sound of trumpets. It felt like the playful craziness of Las Vegas, with a historical twist.  We continued to explore the wild and colorful streets and were drawn to the sounds of live music. Eventually, led by our ears, we turned a corner to find ourselves thrust into the middle of a New Orleans wedding. The bride and groom were preparing to make their exit from the church with an entire brass band playing loudly on the steps. Servers dressed in all black moved their way through the crowd, balancing glasses of champagne, while the invited guests danced along with the horns and drums of the band. Although our attire was clearly not wedding-appropriate, we were swept along in the festivities. The servers and even a few of the guests were convinced that we belonged, resulting in some unexpected champagne and crab cakes. When accusing glances started coming our way, we slipped out of the party discreetly.

The line went tight. “Does it feel big?” Bailey yelled. I didn’t know how to answer as it felt big, but it was not running. I brought the fish closer and the excitement of possibly hooking a jack right out of the gate faded. We all laughed as the long whiskers of a catfish punched through the surface of the water.

Bourbon Street was next on our agenda as we headed back toward our luxury vehicle. It did not disappoint. The entire street was blocked off and an all-out party ensued. The balconies hanging over the street were lined with boisterous people tossing beads down and drinking from tall, colorful glasses. Every bar, club, or restaurant on the street seemed to have some sort of event or music overflowing onto the curb merging with the crowd outside.  It was exciting, but we were ready to rest up and then catch some fish.

Our first day of fishing began with an early morning meet-up at the infamous Penny’s Café. Penny’s Café has for years been a meeting spot for guides and clients fishing the Louisiana Marsh. The small parking lot was dimly lit by a few flickering lampposts, making it difficult to weave our way through the maze of trucks and skiffs parked outside. We pushed our way through the door into the small diner, decorated as if it were still the 1960s. Fish replicas and photos covered the walls, boasting of the fishery just a few miles away. A whiff of coffee and bacon met us along with the gaze of everyone inside. Luckily, our guide, Bailey Short, was easy to pick out with his long blonde hair draping down his back. Bailey grew up in Louisiana with the marsh in his backyard. Having an addiction to hard-pulling saltwater fish is easily justifiable when the drug is so accessible. His excitement and passion is ultimately what convinced us to hop on a plane and come down here.

After a filling breakfast and a few much-needed cups of coffee, we moved on down the road to the boat ramp. The sun was not yet visible, but the sky was an inferno of color. The ramp put us out into Lake Borgne, which, despite its name, is a piece of the Gulf of Mexico. The wind was calm and the water was smooth. We were motoring off toward the Gulf when Bailey suddenly turned and cut the engine. He watched the birds and water with an expert eye before pulling out a teasing rig on his spinning rod. “There could be jacks here,” he said. “I’ll tease them to the boat and you cast to them.”

He cast the big cork teaser and popped it back toward the boat. Some sort of disturbance followed the cork and I put a fly in its path. The line went tight. “Does it feel big?” Bailey yelled. I didn’t know how to answer as it felt big, but it was not running. I brought the fish closer and the excitement of possibly hooking a jack right out of the gate faded. We all laughed as the long whiskers of a catfish punched through the surface of the water. The last thing I expected was for our first catch to be a catfish, but at least we would not be skunked.

We worked miles of grass edges, but the tide and wind were working against each other, keeping the tide from moving. The fish did not want to budge from the bottom. A few massive black drum occasionally floated into view, but the fly never had a chance to get down to them. Eventually, a dark cloud began to build and we had to call it a day. Bailey had covered more than enough water and options, but fish can be strange creatures. We were a little disappointed with the results of our first day, but nothing makes success more satisfying than previous failure.

Our second day of fishing would be our last day in Louisiana. There was no way we could leave with only a catfish under our belt. We went down the boat ramp for the last time and moved our way out to work a grass edge. This produced nothing. We had to make a decision. A possible storm was building in the distance, but the spot we wanted to head to was a good distance from the ramp and safety. We rolled the dice and decided to go for it. The risk of being stuck out in the storm was worth finding fish.

After a lengthy boat ride, we moved our way into a section of grass. The tide was moving better now and small patches of mud began to be visible. We didn’t have to search long in these inner sections of the grass—or “ponds,” as Bailey called them— before we spotted fish. Due to some excited habitual trout-sets, we missed the first few, for which Bailey jokingly berated us. I hopped up on the bow and squeezed the cork in frustration as we moved deeper into the ponds. Bailey poled us through a pocket of water toward a small opening in the grass. The bow of the skiff had hardly protruded into this opening when, “Fish 10 o’clock!” came abruptly from the poling platform. I scanned the edge of the grass about 30 feet from my perch as I began my cast. I was not going to let another opportunity pass. I laid my line down, still not seeing the fish.

“Half the distance,” Bailey remarked, and I scanned the water for a glimmer of gold. I made another blind cast toward the grass.

“At your feet!” Bailey said. I looked straight down and saw a small school of fish unconcerned with the boat. I moved my rod tip in an arc and simply dropped the fly gently on top of the fish, where it was instantly crushed on the surface with a thrashing splash. The fish had few options of places to run in the shallow water, and the chaotic splashing continued until we lifted up our first Louisiana red. After that, Parker and I took turns hooking into some marsh gold. Bailey was ecstatic to get us some fish, and we were happy to reward his tireless efforts to find us fish in less-than-ideal conditions. 

“The best kept secret about this place,” Bailey began, when we took a brief break to rest our arms and fill our stomachs, “is that it’s a year-round fishery. Between resident bull reds, a huge population of puppy drum, jacks, and black drum, there’s always something to pull.”

Fall sees the greatest number of anglers hunting these marshes. Because this is regarded as the best time to hunt bull redfish, and also sees the greatest numbers of jack crevalle, the other seasons tend to be overlooked. Fish can be found here throughout the year, however. Winter is big-fish season as well, and typically brings clear water with it. The spring months are great for hunting large numbers of reds in shallow water and on top, with opportunities at bulls still available. Summer is another great time to catch numbers of fish in a variety of sizes. Big reds and black drum can be found tailing then, and the topwater bite can be incredible. Summer is also a good time to catch jack crevalle.

No matter the season, there are always fish to be found in the marshes of southern Louisiana. 

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THE VOICE OF SALTWATER FLY FISHING CULTURE

The post Marsh Gold – Louisiana Redfish first appeared on Tail Fly Fishing Magazine.

The post Marsh Gold – Louisiana Redfish appeared first on Tail Fly Fishing Magazine.

(originally published in Tail #34 – March/April 2018)

If you are an angler on a budget and still trying to live the fly life, you are definitely not alone.

Peter Husted and Jesse Males make up the film group Broke and Fly. Their message is simple and one that resonates with a lot of anglers: get out there and fish, without breaking the bank. Tail got a chance to sit down with Broke and Fly and catch up on their most recent project along the coast of the Gulf of Mexico.

Tail: Tell us about Broke and Fly. How did you guys come up with the concept for it?

Peter Husted: Broke and Fly came together after Jesse and I spent a week in Guadeloupe. We hit it off and decided that we’d like to fill the gap in fly fishing film where you’ll get some sweet fish porn while being entertained and getting a good laugh. We came up with the concept because after doing the Guadeloupe film, we needed to have our own platform just for Broke And Fly. Jesse Males runs Backwater Fly Fishing and I have Water’s Edge Media, but we decided that we wanted to start a joint project and that’s how BAF came to life.

Jesse Males: I think for me it just made sense to create Broke and Fly Productions after the trip. I mean, since the fishing there was crap we pretty much had to rely on cheap Canadian whiskey to get us through the week. That obviously allowed us to hang out and shoot the shit and we got along really well. Instead of figuring out whose platform we were going to share the video and photos from, we just said screw it, and created BAF!

—

T: That’s awesome that both of you met on a trip in Guadeloupe and decided to create films of your travels. Where are you guys from?

PH: I’m living in Denmark, but have family in Florida and Bahamas on my wife’s side.

JM: I am from Central Florida, but now currently spend most of my time in Costa Rica.

—

T: What inspired you guys to pick the Gulf Coast for your next outing?

PH: For me, it was the chance to make another project come to life, at a low cost. After all, we are Broke and Fly and do this out of our own limited funds. We both had a desire to fish the Gulf Coast and wanted to do a good ole road trip, so we took a look at a map and started planning. After presenting our idea to people we wanted to have aboard, they took to it and went all in helping us out. We had some logistical problems in Louisiana and stood without somebody to fish with just before before kick off, but Justin Albarado of Rougarou Lures came through and turned out to be a great guide and a good friend. I’ve heard about southern hospitality, and felt that all throughout the tour and from all of the people we came in contact with.

JM: Once we started doing a road trip for the next project, we knew it had to be low cost…since we are broke and all that. So we thought if we hit up some of our friends in the fly fishing scene, rented a car, and put the pedal to the metal, some cool things would happen. The Gulf Coast seemed to be the perfect place to land all the inshore species we would want: redfish, snook, tarpon, and more.

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T: The gulf coast is known as a very productive fishery for redfish. What where some of the highlights of fishing all the way from Texas to Florida along the Gulf? Oh, and give us some “lowlights” of the trip too.

PH: I was really blown away by the Louisiana marsh. The days we spend there with Justin Albarado from Rougarou Outfitters were awesome. We had a lot of fish there and it seemed like Justin couldn’t get us into a place that didn’t have reds in it. The real surprise for me came when I got back and was looking through all the drone footage, and saw the actual amount of reds that were in the water, many that we didn’t see from the boat. We had some rough days in the start when we got up early, fished all day and drove the our next spot in the evening. That resulted in about 10 hours of sleep divided between the first three nights. On top of that, I had just landed from Europe when we started, so I was already jetlagged.

JM: Since we obviously had redfish on our mind during The Gulf Coast Tour, pursuing big bull redfish in LA was something were all looking forward to. We had already fished extensively in Florida, so we knew what to expect from that area. However, Texas and the LA marsh was new territory. Knowing that redfish behave differently between the east coast and west coast of florida, we could only imagine how they would behave in other states. To our surprise, the differences were insane. In Texas, they behave very similar to those in the Mosquito Lagoon and Indian Rivers systems. They are a little spooky, but still very fishable. When we landed in the LA marsh, we were surprised to see redfish that acted like they didn’t have a care in the world. They were happy to swim up to our boat and eat any flies, from poppers to baitfish and slider patterns. Overall, we were stoked to see that amount of diversity come out of one fish species. Lowlights included tons of driving and total exhaustion at times. We were literally fishing all day and driving all night for nine full days. It was insane.

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T: Louisiana is an outstanding fishery and you captured some great footage from your trip there. The one thing about that section of the gulf coast is that each area has its own distinct culture and the fish sure behave differently in each area as well. Besides the fishing, what where some of your favorite parts of the trip?

PH: My favorite part was meeting new people along the way that turned into friends after a day on the water. Everyone took us in and did their best to make comfortable. I guess that’s what the whole southern hospitality is all about. Besides that, it was an excellent chance for Jesse and me to get face to face time, discussing our future plans for Broke And Fly over beers.

JM: After what we experienced in LA, it is difficult to stop thinking about the fishing. However, when I do stop thinking about big hungry redfish bellycrawling all over the marsh, I immediately think of the insane BBQ that Justin Albarado whipped up for us. No lie, I would have lived in a tent outside his house forever just to continually grub out at his place. Obviously the trip was centered around different fisheries, but the different people we ran into in each place made the trip the success that it was. From Texas to Florida, we were in solid company the entire time!

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T: Sign me up for that too! You guys fished a lot of different fisheries on your recent trip. What were some of the major similarities and differences you found with fishing each one?

PH: I liked the different species we had the chance to target on this trip. We had excellent fishing for reds in Texas and Louisiana, in wide open spaces where we were surrounded by marsh for miles. A couple of days later, we were hooking up with everything from bluegills to baby tarpon in big lakes or backwater canals. We had everything but flats on this trip.

JM: The inshore fisheries from Texas to Florida were similar only in that they hold redfish. However, the fish themselves behaved extremely different everywhere we fished. The fish in Texas were skittish but fishable, the redfish in Louisiana were so bold they would often be just feet from the boat and still eat the fly after three crappy presentations (laughs). And the redfish in Florida were their typical stubborn selves. A great cast is important, but at the end of the day, they eat whenever they want. After catching redfish the entire trip, by the time we got to Florida we decided to mostly target snook and baby tarpon.

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T: Have you guys thought about where you are going next?

PH: Yeah, we have had a few people contact us about doing stuff for lodges, and some seem like interesting opportunities, but we since we’re Broke And Fly, we can’t throw our money after that. After shooting countless of hours of film, we still need to sort through it when we get back, and that’s before we even start editing. Making film is a process that takes a lot of time, which I think people don’t realize or totally think about. The only thing we can promise is you’re probably gonna enjoy it.

JM: While our future after The Gulf Coast Tour is fairly open ended, we are weighing our options at the moment. We have had some different lodges reach out that offered to have us stop by for our next film project; however we are still waiting to see what else comes up. One of the main goals of Broke and Fly is to present an experience that any fly angler with just about any budget can make happen. Not all of us can drop five to eight thousands dollars on a fishing trip, or for gear for that matter. I know Peter and I can’t. So we are trying to figure out the best way to bring sponsorship into the mix without losing our initial take on the whole thing. Keeping these trips relatable and doable for the average dudes is super important.

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T:  Saltwater fly fishing trips can become expensive very quickly, but it doesn’t always have to be that way. Do you guys have any tips for budget-minded anglers who want to experience the salt?

PH: I think that these days since you can do a lot of researching online, you’ve got a great start there already. First off, you gotta find out what it is that you want to catch. Target that specific species and get all the knowledge about the fish and area that you can. Use online groups and you’ll often find that people are willing to share their tips and tricks. I’ve done a lot of DIY which is the cheapest way to go fishing anywhere, but if you’re new to it, go the extra mile and get a guide. If you’re up front with the guide and say that you want to land a fish, but also wanna learn what your options are in the area, they almost always wanna share fly patterns and their extensive knowledge about the water and fish. But remember that they have honed their skills and worked hard to be the best they can with customers, so they’re probably not gonna show you their hotspot.

JM: I have spent years fly fishing all over the state of Florida and now have over two years under my belt exploring saltwater fisheries down in Costa Rica. If you are like me and trying to DIY and stay cheap, the best advice I can give you is to learn how to paddle. For the past 20 years I have fish almost exclusively out of kayaks or canoes. These are great tools for any angler trying to get into places without having to spend thousands of dollars on a skiff, gas, maintenance, etc. A canoe is the perfect tool for accessing baby tarpon hotspots or sneaking up on redfish on the flats. Also, since you don’t move fast, this slows down the mind and allows you to focus more on the area you are in at each moment. Talking with people in Facebook groups is a great way to get local info on a specific area, but nothing beats getting your boots on the ground for a little R&D!

:

The post Broke and Fly first appeared on Tail Fly Fishing Magazine.

The post Broke and Fly appeared first on Tail Fly Fishing Magazine.

(originally published in Tail #28 – March/April 2017)

Standing tall, my eyes are focused, my mind empty.

I’m fixated on locating the distinct sounds of feeding redfish.  Poling and moving along as silently as possible, the kayak glides effortlessly, masking my presence in the marsh.  If I’m successful, I’ll spot a redfish at a distance that will enable me to make a good presentation without spooking it.  If unsuccessful, the six-hour drive home will give me time to assess my deficiencies.

As expected, the brackish water is falling slowly and only slightly stained.  I wait for the sun to ease overhead and highlight the copper silhouettes roaming the newly exposed grass lines.  In these conditions, the reds will be ambushing bait as it exits the maze.  They will also be vulnerable and extremely skittish.  An errant cast or clumsy poling assures failure.

It’s these challenges—sneaking through their environment trying to find and ambush them— that make sight fishing for redfish so addictive.  This hunt is what keeps me coming back each fall, why I check the weather daily and never commit to anything from October to January.  When the conditions are just right, I’m on my way to the marsh.

Others question my sanity.  I sometimes question it myself, until I see that shadow lurking at the fringe of my casting range.  I move in slow motion, attempting to silently replace the pole in my hands with my fly rod without spooking the fish.

I only look away for a second to grab the rod, but the fish has since slipped out of sight.  Where did it go?  How did two feet of glowing, potential chaos vanish in a foot of water?  Could it have been a ray?  My eyes scan the water, hoping to catch a color change or flicker of movement that betrays the fish beneath the surface.  I suddenly see the soft blue glow as the fish mobilizes, moving steadily away from me.

The fly lands softly at the edge of the grass, just in front of my departing target.  My heartbeat quickens, anticipating the eat.  The redfish leisurely continues its way down the grass line.  Then, inexplicably, it changes course and turns towards me.  Do I pick the fly up and attempt to lay it back down softly? Hope the fish turns? There’s no time to pick it up now, as any movement now will betray my location.  Frustration sets in as I realize it’s just a matter of seconds before the redfish sees me and my shot is blown.

Suddenly in a stroke of luck, the fish turns again and starts moving back down the grass line.  My knees begin to perceptibly shake and I steady myself.  Hope starts building again.  Strip…strip…pause.

As I wait for the fish to pounce, I prepare for what’s about to take place, running through a mental checklist: remember to strip-set, play the angle and get the fish on the reel.  It’s going to run through the back door and over the grass islands.  Be ready to chase it down.  When the battle seems over, expect the redfish to dive under the kayak one last time in an attempt to free itself.

Did I strip too soon?  It had to have seen my offering.  The streamer flutters to the bottom while I drown in disbelief, heart sinking at the realization that I missed the shot.  That should have been an eat.  Before the thought is complete, there’s a sudden flash. The world slows as the water erupts in chaos.  The line rips through the grass, leaving me at the mercy of an out of control marsh bully.

Nothing is going to plan and the 8-weight rod is begging for mercy.  The kayak drifts in one direction as the red runs in another, and it has jumped two islands before I finally get it together and start moving after it.  The result of this confrontation is uncertain, but the encounter has already reaffirmed why I put myself through this every fall.

Drew Ross is a member of the Jackson Kayak and Bending Branches teams.  You can keep up with Drew’s adventures in Tail or on his Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/looknfishy/.

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The post The Fall first appeared on Tail Fly Fishing Magazine.

The post The Fall appeared first on Tail Fly Fishing Magazine.

Old-timers in North Carolina call them puppy drum or red drum. They’re spottail bass in South Carolina, a red bass in North Florida. Whatever you call them, when you fly fish for reds in southern low-country areas, the first thing to understand is that the water is not crystal clear like you see on the fishing shows. You won’t be able to see the bottom much of the time. Recognize too, if you just blindly throw along the banks the same way a tournament angler would with a spinning rod, you are going to be disappointed. You must fish where you can see them, which means understanding tides and what they do to the water where the reds live.

It’s All About Shallow Water

Let’s say you want to catch a redfish on a fly. The best way to do this is by hiring a guide. You call up the one you saw on a fishing show. That seems smart enough because he has lots of pictures on his website of people holding redfish. He must be good, right? He takes you out in his bay boat, blasting across the river to what must be his secret spot. He drops down his trolling motor and instructs you to cast to the bank. So you cast. And you cast. And you cast. You do not catch a redfish. You catch a small speckled trout and a flounder, which he says is a great day. 

First, any water around here that’s deep enough to run a trolling motor is generally too deep to be fly fishing for redfish. If you can’t see the bottom, you can’t see the fish. If you can’t see the fish, you likely aren’t going to catch any either. That’s not to say you will never catch a redfish by blind casting with a fly rod because it happens. I’ve done it myself, but not often and not with any other idea than just doing something for a little while until the tide moves.

TIDES CREATE THE PERFECT WATER DEPTH 

To catch a redfish on a fly in the low country from North Carolina to North Florida, you must fish one of two tides, either a negative low or an extreme high. What’s a negative low? Find the week around the full moon for this month. Then look at the low tides. There should be a number next to the time. That number represents the amount of water there will be at the peak (high) or nadir (low) of that tide. A great smartphone app is Aye Tide, but there are plenty out there. Make sure it shows tide height as well as tide time.

If there is a negative sign next to the low tide, that is a negative low. When that occurs, the water will be so low that there are only a few places for the fish to hold. The water there will be so shallow that when the fish move around to feed, you’ll be able to see them. That of course presupposes there will be redfish in the place you look.

Remember, I also said an extreme high, which probably seems counterintuitive. But the high tide fishing presents a different set of fishing circumstances entirely, which has become legendary since it was pioneered in South Carolina. The extremely high water will allow the redfish access to the fiddler crab flats on top of the spartina marshes that exist on either side of a creek or river. This occurs from Beaufort, North Carolina, down to Jacksonville, Florida. If you look at the areas behind the creek banks, there will be very tall grass on the edge, with short grass behind it. It weaves together to create a firm bottom that the small, quarter-sized crabs can’t disappear into, and there are a lot of them. 

When the conditions are prime and the water gets deep enough, which happens about six to ten days per month from spring through early fall, the reds will belly up to this crab buffet. These are the famous “tailing redfish” that fly anglers talk about. Tails and backs will be exposed, allowing you to see the fish as they swim and feed. It is extremely visual, very addicting, and heart pounding, causing anglers to make plans months in advance. 

The Right Boat

You may have surmised by now that you can’t hunt redfish in just any kind of boat. A standard center console bay boat draws too much water to fish at low tide, while at high tide you are limited to wadeable areas near where you anchor the boat. Also, some flats aren’t hard but are covered with “puff mud,” soft layers of muck that are nearly impossible to wade. If you wade, watch out for gray, grassless spots and test questionable areas. It’s awful stuff too: ask my wife how my wading shoes smell.

A canoe or kayak draws the right amount of water, but you are limited to marshes near the access area where you launch. Your fishing window is short so you want to maximize your time. The best boat for this type of fishing is a poling skiff.

Notice I did not say a “flat-bottom” boat. The popular skiff of the Carolinas makes too much noise that spooks the fish the first time the water smacks off the gunwale. A well-designed poling skiff moves swiftly, surely, and almost silently when poled in the shallows. It allows you to creep within casting range, sometimes so close the fish are under your feet while you gape down at them.

Tackle For Redfish

An 8-weight fly rod is the best choice. It allows you to cast the buggy, leggy flies that redfish seem to like, and it also has the power to beat the wind on breezy summer evenings. A substantial reel with a sealed drag capable of holding around 100 yards of 30-pound dacron backing is necessary because a hooked red will zoom off, heading for deep water. A good drag helps slow down and then turn the fish. A floating line is an obvious choice for the very shallow water conditions and generally, a 9-foot tapered leader ending in 12-pound tippet will work. If the fish are spooky, you can go up to a 12-foot leader.

Any fly that looks like a shrimp or a crab will most likely get bitten if presented correctly. Make sure, however, that you take your conditions into account. If fishing the low tides, the water will be murky, making it hard for the fish to see your offering. Pink, orange, and bright green are good fly-color choices. To make the hook ride point up, I often use a bend back–style tie. Some guides like flies with lead eyes, which also turn the hookup. 

On the flats where the spartina sticks up six to 24 inches above the water, a weedless fly keeps it from hanging up on the retrieve. I have experimented a good deal and found that the double-post mono weed guard is the best choice. Lately, I have been tying on hooks normally used by freshwater bass anglers to fish plastic worms. They ride hook point up and the bend near the hook eye acts as a weed guard without deflecting strikes from fish. 

Finding Fishy Locations 

To locate flats and lots of spartina creeks, use online mapping and satellite photo apps or ask around. Those areas are where you will find the fish. Check tide charts to find the highest and lowest tides during the summer months. Determine areas that may be right for fly fishing by watching the water and studying the surroundings. Conversely, if you go out at low tide, you may be all alone in the same spot that is shared by three boats at high tide. Then you can see those fish busting shrimp in four inches of water that the bay boat guys never see.

Red fishing with a fly rod is generally not a numbers game. Yes, you may find a school penned up in a creek somewhere and catch a dozen or more. Mostly it’s a game of one here and another there. Lure anglers and bait guys won’t understand what you’re so excited about when you tell them about the “tailer” you saw on the grass flat that took a small shrimp fly. They’ll ask how many you caught and when you say that’s the only one, they will look at you funny. It’s all good. Fly fishing is about the how, not the how many.

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The post Fly Fishing the Southeast Coast first appeared on Tail Fly Fishing Magazine.

The post Fly Fishing the Southeast Coast appeared first on Tail Fly Fishing Magazine.

We pride ourselves on our high quality content and photographs.  In addition to the great stories told by our anglers and sometimes even our readers, we carefully chose content that is informative and could improve your game.  We strive to provide the highest quality content in any fly fishing magazine available.  The subscribers of Tail Fly Fishing Magazine are aware of the quality of our contributors and the magnitude of their presence in the fly fishing industry.  Just in case you didn’t know how talented they are, we thought we would share this blog with a few great books recently released by past and present Tail contributors.

CLICK ON THE IMAGES TO VISIT THE HOMEPAGE FOR EACH BOOK

Jon Olch
A Passion for Permit – Volume 1 & 2

Jonathan Olch has spent decades passionately chasing permit. He has figured out what makes the elusive species tick and how to catch them. And for afraction of the cost of a single day of guided fishing, you can learn from the vast experience of this world-class angler.

A Passion for Permit by Jonathan Olch is the latest in the “Masters on the Fly” series published by Wild River Press. Olch’s impressive two-volume book runs more than 1,100 pages.

Share in the collective knowledge of more than 20 global permit angling experts. Learn about the fascinating world of the permit—the most sought-after prize of the flats—and eight of its closely related cousin-species you may have never heard about before. Learn about the finicky nuances of the permit through its anatomy, biology, food sources and preferred habitats—highlighted by superb imagery. Indulge in the strategies, techniques, fully illustrated essential casting tips, closeup color photos of 100-plus fly patterns, detailed tying instructions for new innovative flies, and anecdotes of the author and his expert guests as you are escorted around the world’s global tropics in pursuit of permit.

In the tradition of Andy Mill’s famous A Passion for Tarpon and many other Wild River Press sporting titles, the author takes you inside the tackle rooms and aboard the skiffs of many legends of the sport. Sit in on compelling and colorful conversations you simply won’t find anywhere else with:

 

• Aaron Adams
• Bob Branham
• Dustin Huff
• Steve Huff
• Nathaniel Linville
• Chris McCreedy
• Winston Moore
• Peter Morse
• Lincoln Westby

A Passion for Permit is by far the most thoroughly researched and thoughtfully written book ever published on the subject. Even if success with permit is a goal still on your angling horizon, the tips and tactics you will learn within these informative pages about saltwater fishing will immediately make you a better bonefish and tarpon angler. This full and complete book is nothing less than a master class in flats fishing.

Peter McLeod
GT – A Fly Fishers Guide to Giant Trevally

Catching a giant trevally (or ‘GT’) on a fly rod is the pinnacle of flats fishing: highly challenging, requiring skill and preparation. This is the first comprehensive guide to giant trevally fishing on the fly.

The giant trevally is an apex predator, and the way it operates is nothing less than brutal. These ‘gangsters of the flats’ are like packs of hoodlums marauding across the atolls and shallow estuaries. Hunting for trevally in the harsh environment they inhabit needs a certain resolve. The flyfisher’s first encounter with a giant trevally will be an electrifying experience. A GT can destroy tackle and ego, leaving all in its wake.

But once you’ve caught one, GT flyfishing is an experience that any angler will want to repeat.

Gordon Churchill
Fly Fishing the Southeast Coast

Gordon Churchill has been an enthusiastic angler all of his life, ever since he was little and would go fishing with his father in the lakes of upstate New York. Churchill shares his tips, tricks, and passion for fishing in Fly Fishing the Southeast Coast. Learn that you don’t have to travel to the Bahamas or any other far exotic island to find the perfect catch. Many ideal places are right here in the United States, including Pamlico Sound, North Carolina, and St. Augustine, Florida.

In order to fly fish successfully, a fisherman must know what kind of species he or she wants, what rod and line combo works best, what flies to stock, and of course when and where to be.

For each chapter, Churchill gives advice on where to find specific species of fish, from the striped bass in the southeast region of the Roanoke River to mahimahi in the Gulf Stream, forty miles off of Morehead City, North Carolina, as well as specifics on the approach of catching each species, as they’re all quite different. While full of tips and advice, Churchill makes it clear that, if ever fishing on the coast, you must be involved in a conservation effort. The environment and fish are constantly in danger, so make sure to always be aware and put your planet first!

Drew Chicone
Top Saltwater Flies

Top Saltwater Flies is certain take your personal fly tying to a whole new level. Drew Chicone will have you tying like a master. Top Saltwater Flies comes in three extraordinary, handsome volumes:

• Bonefish: 296 pages
• Tarpon: 300 pages
• Permit: 260 pages
• 8.5 x 11 inches on quality coated stock
• Special laminated hardcovers for durability
• Patented Wire-O binding open flat on your tying desk
• Printed in the United States by American craftsmen

“Whether it’s camaraderie, creativity, art—or simply a device to catch more fish—people are passionate about tying flies for a lot of different reasons. For me, it’s all those reasons and more. Tying is an important part of my daily routine. And teaching others the art of fly tying is one of my favorite activities.”

~Drew Chicone

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The post Books by Tail Contributors first appeared on Tail Fly Fishing Magazine.

The post Books by Tail Contributors appeared first on Tail Fly Fishing Magazine.

Jesse and Peter are currently traveling through the southern United States hugging the gulf coast filming their newest project.  An upcoming feature in Tail will detail their kick ass voyage through the gulf states and the many people, flies and fish they meet along the way. Here’s a message from the guys currently in central Florida….

Hey everyone, Jesse and Peter here from Broke and Fly Productions.
Just giving you heads up on the fact that we are currently working on our new film project and would love to have you follow us via our social media outlets on Facebook and Instagram.This project has taken us through some amazing fisheries along the gulf coast of Texas, in the Louisiana marsh,  and Lake Seminole at the Florida/Georgia line.  We are now taking it slow, chilling in Central Florida enjoying some of the local sites and some great food, beer.
Filming for this video has lead us into long days on the water and even longer nights of driving from spot to spot. We have fished with some epic people along the way and can’t wait to share more of the trip with everyone in the near future, so stay tuned.

If you like tarpon, redfish, snook, bass, and bluegill on the fly, then you will want to take a peek at some some shots from our latest project and stay up to date with our travel log.  There’s a full length feature coming in Tail Fly Fishing Magazine this spring.
Tight lines!
Over and out.

About Broke and Fly

BROKE AND FLY is the brainchild of two idiots. Peter Husted and Jesse Males. We are all about proving that you don’t need a million dollars in equipment or some fancy location just to make sweet fly fishing related content.
Sometimes all it takes is a little adventure in order for two fly fishing junkies to come together and make something happen. Other times it takes 5 bottles of whiskey, 150 crappy french beers, the worst tequila you can imagine, and 7 days stuck on a french island in the caribbean.
This whole train wreck started after we decided to meet up on a joint film trip on the french island of Guadeloupe. Having never met one another before the trip, since Peter crashes in Denmark and I spend most of my time in Costa Rica, we knew this would be an interesting trip.
The last one pretty much sums up how Broke and Fly was born. ​
SO…WHERE IS BROKE AND FLY GOING FROM HERE?
We plan on continuing to work on film projects whenever possible and invite you guys to tag along via our social media links as well as our vimeo channel.   Judging by the way things went in Guadeloupe, I would say we have some pretty kickass adventures still to come!

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The post Fly fishing the gulf states – Broke and Fly first appeared on Tail Fly Fishing Magazine.

The post Fly fishing the gulf states – Broke and Fly appeared first on Tail Fly Fishing Magazine.

Humans, like fish, are fickle creatures. We have certain proclivities and idiosyncrasies, both defined and obtuse. There are some things we can take, and some things that we just can’t.

I love to fish, but a banana in my boat will ruin the day – regardless of my client’s protests or potassium deficiency. “Hop in that guy’s boat, then,” I say, not willing to give the banana a chance. Why do I have such a vendetta against water-borne bananas? If I knew, I’d tell you. It’s just one of my ‘things’.

Bonefish and tarpon have their ‘things’. Rockfish and other cold salt species have a few. Permit are the very definition of ‘picky’, but you already knew that. When it comes to fish handling and sensitivities specific to particular species, it pays to do your homework. Many proactive fishing handling practices can be applied across species to great effect; others are only impactful to a handful of taxa. Below are guide-tested guidelines for minimizing angling’s impact on caught fish in various marine environments. The more suggestions you’re able to employ, the better poised we’ll be to support sportfishing’s longevity.

Tarpon (Megalops genus)

This big-eyed denizen of the flats is numero uno on most anglers’ bucket list. Capable of incredible runs, tarpon are famed for long fights and breaking hearts. If you have to ask yourself whether you spooled up enough backing before a tarpon trip, the answer is going to be ‘not even close’. Despite tarpons’ size and power, the IGFA maintains records for fish caught on tippet down to the #2 class. That record? 106 pounds, zero ounces. That fish? Not in good shape after landing. While there isn’t any credible record of the fight time, landing a fish of that magnitude (in any sort of real ‘sporting’ manner) on #2 tippet would require total exhaustion on the fish’s part. Total exhaustion opens the door for now-incentivized predators, including bulls and hammerheads waiting for an easy meal. Considering the state of many of our fisheries, fishing adequately-rated tippet is the least we can do as anglers. It’s important to learn to gauge a tarpon’s exhaustion during the fight. It takes practice, but it’s worth the effort. If you’re able to approximate how tired the fish is (an inexact science, certainly), you can know when it’s time to put the wood to ‘em without breaking off or ending up with a damaged fish on the line.

Bonefish (Albula genus)

Bonefish reside in temperate waters worldwide, though most are found near the tropics. The species most often targeted by North American anglers, Albula vulpes, is the quintessential flats fish: smart, spooky, and built for speed. For those who have brought bonefish to hand, their defining characteristic is something less romantic. A thick coating of mucus covers the fish from stem to stern, making them exceedingly hard to hold onto, a helpful trait in predator-filled waters. This slime layer also plays a similar role to the mucus found on most fish, acting as a protective barrier against parasites and pathogens. The slime contains antibodies, antimicrobial peptides, and enzymes that actively break down pathogens that would otherwise attack the fish, though the exact composition varies from species-to-species. When a bonefish’s slime is removed by rough handling or other abrasion, it’s less able to repel these ne’er-do-wells. Keeping hands wet and fish away from clothing is the best way to prevent slime loss when releasing bonefish. Gunnel rails don’t do much for slime, either. Bonefish that don’t calm down after being brought to hand can be charmed into submission by turning them over onto their backs as the hook is being removed, ideally leaving the fish’s gills below the waterline during the process.

Anecdotal evidence suggests that predators cue in on fish whose slime barrier has been damaged. The guides that I spoke with in the Keys suggested that removing a bonefish’s slime releases a scent that sharks interpret as that of a wounded fish. Wounded fish make an easy meal, and you can actually see sharks change direction as they pick up on the smell. While important for all species, preventing slime loss is of special importance for bonefish.

Rockfish (Sebastes genus)

With such ‘A list’ species being tackled in this article, rockfish seem strange to include. The fact of the matter is that rockfish are a blast to catch and can be found in both the Pacific and Atlantic. Rockfish typically dwell at greater depths around rocky outcroppings and subsurface structure. Anglers targeting rockfish are often fishing at depths greater than 30 feet, and sometimes much deeper. Bringing rockfish up from these depths too quickly creates an extreme pressure differential on the fish’s organs, causing distended bowels and bulging eyeballs. Acute barotrauma, as this is known, is often lethal. While rockfish sportfisheries are typically catch-and-keep, bag and slot limits mean that anglers should still be treating caught fish with enough care that they survive the event. If a fish is exhibiting signs of acute barotrauma upon landing, it’s possible to reverse the effects by using a descending device. The descending device lowers the fish back down to depths with greater atmospheric pressure, allowing organs to revert to their normal state. Descending devices can be made with milk crates or inverted, weighted jig hooks. They can also be bought from many fly and tackle shops, but that’s not nearly as fun. ‘Fizzing’ is still en vogue in some bass fisheries, though the practice has been found to do more harm than good. A misplaced fizzing needle can easily cause organ damage, and the residual wound offers an entrance point for pathogens.

Striped Bass (Morone saxatilis)

“Lipping” bass is an age-old pastime, and it’s easy to see why. Bass are feisty, and the mouth seems like the most appropriate place to hold onto the fish’s business end while removing the hook. And, in reality, it probably is. In order to hold the fish still enough for hook removal (and to prevent self-injury), lipping the fish is often best bet if you don’t have access to a fish cradle, with one express caveat: you need to use your other hand to support the fish’s weight. Stripers are objectively big, and even larger when compared to some of their warmwater cousins. They’re built for life underwater and can’t support their own mass above the surface. Held by the lip exclusively, the fish’s organs are oriented vertically and gravity takes over. Lacking the internal support of land animals, the bass’ organs are ‘squished’ and can be irreparably damaged. The (much) better option is to use your other hand to support the fish’s weight, being sure to avoid squeezing too tightly. Milt and eggs are both delicate and can be affected by overzealous hands. If you have access to a cradle, use it. Pike cradles have the size needed to handle larger stripers and, when used properly, allow for hook removal while the fish’s gills are still in the water. The bigger the striper, the more imperative it becomes to help avoid organ damage by applying these alternative techniques.

Different strokes for different folks. With such variation in the species we catch, it’s only natural that there is variation in the ways caught fish should be landed and handled. Tarpon are not rockfish. Hell, tarpon aren’t bonefish, either. Recognize each of your target species’ needs and proclivities; it’ll make you a better angler and a better steward, guaranteed.

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The post Fishing For The Future Part 3: Playing Proclivities first appeared on Tail Fly Fishing Magazine.

The post Fishing For The Future Part 3: Playing Proclivities appeared first on Tail Fly Fishing Magazine.