Showing posts with label fly fishing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fly fishing. Show all posts

05 June 2013

Hawg


The first fish (& only fish, so far) in my new Jackson Kayaks Cuda 14 was a personal-best smallmouth bass.

It measured a shade under 23", putting it in the 7lb range.

*          *          *

I was casting into extremely heavy cover - a lot of fallen trees & such; for an extremely pregnant pause of 3-4 seconds, I thought I was hung up on a branch. Then the line moved.

For what seemed like eternity, the bass stayed deep. I didn't see it but the bend in the 6wt told me it was big. Finally seeing it gave confirmation; the bass jumped once then dove deep again, running for cover of the downed trees. I couldn't afford to give it any line, so the bass was towing the kayak and the rod was bent almost double. Once the line pointed vertically below the kayak into the mess of branches, I thought all was for nought.

I switched the rod to my left hand and, keeping the rod pressured, I paddled one-handed to horse the bass out from under the branches, hoping all the while the #8 fluoro tippet would hold up.

The tippet did its job: the bass was free of trees and soon at the side of my kayak. Having lost a ~5lb smallie (which would have been a personal-best at the time) boat-side a few weeks back, I didn't f**k around: I lipped the fish, bringing it aboard & dislodging the fly almost simultaneously. I then snapped some quick pics with my Camera+ app, took a fast measurement of its length, and sent the bass on its way.

I drifted aimlessly in the 'yak for the next half-hour, mumbling prayers of thanks to both the bass and Bob Clouser, shaking too much from excitement to make another cast.

*          *          *

Gear:

  • #4 chartreuse & white Clouser minnow
  • Redington Predator 6wt rod 
  • Redington Rise 5/6 reel 
  • RIO Smallmouth taper line
  • Blue Sky furled leader with Maxima #8 fluorocarbon tippet

Location, time & date:

  • Name Redacted Lake, Vancouver Island, British Columbia, Canada
  • ~1545h, 04 June, 2013

25 April 2013

Settling into island life, part two

I wake up each morning, make some coffee, and watch the sun rise over Coast Mountains, Quadra Island and Discovery Passage.

I like it here. A lot.

Last week I found out there's a public fishing pier ten minutes' walk away; that it's 600' long & I'd missed it for over three weeks is not lost on me: there's lots left to explore here.

So now I'm the proud owner of a couple Ugly Stiks, in both spinning & casting forms, and a box of heavier-than-most-trout metal jigs. Fun times.

I'm still in "Island Fishing Overload:" there's so many species and so many places, it's tough to nail down exactly what to fish for, and where. 

I'm still in (what I consider) a shoulder season of fishing, as in, tossing size 18 chironomids for 10" stocked cutthroat is all well & good, but there's 4lb smallmouth kicking around somewhere in this same lake and I aim to catch it...if only the bloody water temperatures would come up a bit... Oh well. All in good time, my bronze-backed friends.

Until the water warms, I can idle my days..evening...tides...away, chucking gear from the pier for rockfish...

Or casting small Rolled Muddlers from the beach for cutthroat.

Or swinging streamers for the ever-elusive steelhead.

Or slowly stripping #18 chironomids from the lacustrine depths while seated (or standing) in my Chupacabra.

Or...

Yeah, so you see what I mean: it's pretty awesome here.

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09 February 2013

The Promised Land

I've yet to load the Diable Paddlesports Chupacabra on the truck
Much like the Clampetts, we'll be soon taking our lives west. But not to Beverly Hills.

Ignoring the minor details of not yet knowing where we'll call home (Vancouver Island landlords aren't very good at responding to emails), we'll be arriving in less than three weeks.

Preparing both physically and mentally for a move from one side to the other of the world's second-largest country whilst in West Africa should be a breeze in this current age of technology...but it isn't.

A typical email to a prospective landlord would go as such:

Hi,
I came across your ad on Craigslist; is your house still available to rent? 
If so, could you tell me if there is carpeting or not, and if the bathroom has a bathtub?   
Also, our dog is approximately 35lbs (Brittany Spaniel mix); is that too large for you? 
We are moving to Vancouver Island in late February but would have no issues renting for Feb. 15th if it works out.  
Thanks in advance & have a great weekend!

This response to those four fairly precise questions was returned:

"im showing it tmr at noon, 250-898-****"

So I guess the house is still available to rent.

*          *         *

On the bright side of things, I've almost forgotten about one significant (and awesome) detail about fishing on Vancouver Island...besides steelhead, cutthroat, pink salmon, coho salmon, chinook salmon, ling cod, dungeness crab and oysters:
Whether it is the infinite number of Bass that proliferate its waters, or the fact that these fish attain weights of up to 4 kg.
For my metric-deficient American cousins:


I can deal with less-than helpful potential landlords for 8lb smallies.

Heck, I'd sleep in my truck for 4lb smallies (my lovely girlfriend is another matter altogether, though).

Vancouver Island is the promised land.

05 October 2012

The Saltwater Journal

I am slightly pleased to announce the launch of The Saltwater Journal.

Essentially, it's another website sharing the same damn fishporn, fly tying videos and articles as a half-dozen other websites do.

BUT...

It does have a fine-ass collection of links (here) that will be added to regularly. And it will be a one-stop shop for all things salty.

You might be asking why.

Well, if I don't keep myself occupied with something over the course of this winter, I'm probably going to do something stupid, like drive my truck to Mexico with girlfriend, dog, fishing gear & kayak in tow. The Saltwater Journal (as well as this site) might prevent stupidity from occurring.

Check it out here, but be prepared to waste an hour watching fishporn you've already watched before.

27 September 2012

Things of Three III

The third edition of three items/subjects/places/people worth checking out to make life as an angler and global citizen far more enjoyable.

1. Howler Bros apparel
If shallow people were to align a product line with their 'personal image' (*cough*), I wouldn't blame them if they chose Howler Bros of Austin, TX. From their About page:
We are Howler Brothers. We are not really related by blood. But we are bonded by many shared callings: surfing, fishing, paddling and the good things that come with these pursuits. Things like fire pits, really good tequila, limes, and pre-dawn coffee.
My surfing career was cut short by lack of waves, a fear of sharks and limited motivation to learn how to surf. But I do like fishing, paddling (for fishing), fire pits (we call 'em bonfires), tequila, limes, limes/lime juice in tequila, and coffee (pre- or post-dawn makes no difference to me).

But that's neither here nor there.

Howler makes clothing that is durable, comfortable and practical. Some would say stylish, but I use practical in place of stylish; as in, "Can I where this in public without my lovely girlfriend being embarrassed?" For Howler's apparel lineup, the answer to that is a heck yeah.

I just received my (third) order from Howler this AM and I'm impressed as always. Their t-shirts are the most comfortable (and softest things) I own. And that hat is just damn cool.

Know who else digs Howler swag? This guy. Oh yeah, it's true.

Website: howlerbros.com

Social: @HowlerBros & facebook.com/howlerbros

Note: Cameron over at The Fiberglass Manifesto has a TFM promo code for $10 off your order, check out the details here.


2. My (new) old-timey shaving kit
This started as a multi-paragraph rant about much of a money-grab cartridge razors have become, but instead I'm just posting this pic:
A better shave, a more enjoyable shave, and a far less expensive shave. Less plastic waste, too. Bam.
After using the double-edge razor for the first time, I was already looking forward to my next opportunity to shave.

That's telling in itself: I normally hate shaving.

Website: classicedge.ca
Resources: sharpologist.com

3. Wolves
Last week it was Coyote. This week it's Wolves, from Big Wreck's Albatross album. Enjoy.

25 September 2012

Traveling Angler Tuesdays: Seven Sins of Air Travel

A more civilized form of air travel.
In the spirit of 'do onto others' and knowledge-sharing, I give you seven sins of air travel that drive me absolutely bonkers while I'm traveling in tightly-packed tin pigeons.

I don't do these things. Neither should you.

1. Not waiting for row number or section to board.
The mad rush occurring at the gate when the gate agent calls for general boarding is an affront to civilized society.

There is a method to the airline's madness when they ask for rows 21-27 to board. When people in row 17 try to board during this time, it messes up the method.

Wait your turn. The plane will not leave without you.

2. Not waiting your turn to exit.
This comic from The Oatmeal sums it up perfectly.

Click the image or here to view The Oatmeal's original post.
Note: I'm not intending to steal this content from The Oatmeal. The Oatmeal is funny as shit & should be read regularly. I'm hoping my numerous links back to The Oatmeal will absolve any ill-feelings someone might have for my borrowing this. I am but a moronic hack in comparison to the comic genius of The Oatmeal. Read The Oatmeal. All the time. Pre-order the book or buy some artwork or a shirt from The Oatmeal while you're at it. For more awesomeness from The Oatmeal on air travel, click here.

3. It's a touch screen, damn it!
That little entertainment system on the back of the seat in front of you? It's a touch screen.

It's not a "poke screen" or a "push with all your might screen" or a "two finger death jab screen."

Touch screen. As in, lightly place your finger on the selection you wish to make. Leave it there for a second, then remove your finger. That's it.

People are less likely to be beaten with a rolled-up issue of the complimentary in-flight magazine (or Financial Post) if they would adhere to this PSA.

4. Body odour or excessive perfume/cologne.
It should go without saying: people need to have some consideration for the other dozens of people cramped into an aluminum tube.

Don't be smelly.

5. Obnoxious overconsumption of alcohol.
I frequently travel to depressing and isolated places for work, leaving my lovely girlfriend and adorable dog behind for weeks at a time. Or I travel to fun places to fish or for vacation.

If anyone had an excuse to either drown their sorrows or celebrate with alcohol during air travel, it'd be me. But I don't. I drink ginger ale. And coffee. Lots of coffee.

If you need multiple drinks to deal with air travel, you probably feel you need multiple drinks to deal with other things in life. That means you are an alcoholic and require assistance. Visit AA.

Note: to my fellow Atlantic Canadians: YOU are the most frequent people I see being obnoxiously drunk in airports or on planes in my travels. Is Fort Mac not all it's cracked up to be? Straighten your shit out. It's embarrassing.

6. Carrying on way too much shit.
This is extremely inconsiderate to other passengers, and sadly airlines do little to enforce their rules on this.

People need to either pack less or get off their wallets and spend the extra $25 to check a bag.

Stop the madness.

7. Using other seats as pull-up bars or handrails.
This, too, should be fairly self-evident, but it's really not.

People are inconsiderate tools sometimes.

I'll share a story.

Note: Feel free to skip this story if you like. Especially if you don't wish to have your opinion of me changed.

Once upon a time, in a time long ago, I was flying from Montreal to Vancouver.

This flight is pretty much the longest non-stop flight we have in Canada, at about five hours or more.

Picture me sitting in a window seat in economy class, beside two middle-aged ladies from Quebec. Leopard-pattern pants, a zebra-print dress & leather jackets betrayed their cougarness. They scared me a little.

Shortly after the plane took off I put on my noise-cancelling headphones, lowered my hat, and dozed off.

Moments later, I awoke feeling as though a was in a deathly free-fall.

No, the plane wasn't crashing. It was a morbidly-obese man seated behind me, pulling himself up with my seat. Have you ever had a feeling of falling to your death while on the cusp of sleep? It sucks.

As Fatty moved toward the aisle, he grabbed Cougar #1's seat, and a handful of her hair, too. Same for Cougar #2's seat, but she did a preemptive duck to avoid having her hair pulled.

Note: insert your own 'cougars having their hair pulled' joke here, if you like.

The sad thing is, I allowed it to happen again more than once. Fatty was in violation of Pet Peeve #5: he was drinking a few beer but had the bladder of a small girl. Every time he stood up, he grabbed my seat to pull himself up.

Knowing sleep would be unattainable until this situation became remedied, I prepared myself for Fatty's return from his third trip to the lavatory. I requested a Globe and Mail from the flight attendant but received a National Post. I removed the Financial Post section and rolled it up tightly. I folded the tightly-rolled Financial Post in half. I waited.

I had an assumption and a quick glance over my shoulder proved that assumption correct: Fatty was grabbing everyone's seats along the aisle to steady himself as he waddled along. A flight attendant was several rows behind him, collecting empty cups. My timing would have to be perfect.

Clutching the rolled-up Financial Post, I faced forward in my seat but kept Fatty in my peripheral vision. The other passengers in the row behind us got up so he could enter. Fatty grabbed Cougar #2's seat and slid into the row. He pulled himself along the row using Cougar #1's seat. The cougars exchanged a look of displeasure.

Fatty was reaching for my seat when I turned. The flight attendant was four rows back and distracted with a passenger. Perfect.

The split-second Fatty's hand touched my seat to lower himself, I half-spun and rapped his knuckles with the rolled-up Financial Post. Fatty let go and fell backward into his seat with a look of surprise. The flight attendant was three rows back and approaching. She didn't see my clout in the name of justice and humanity.

I dropped the Financial Post in front of my seat to hide it and said firmly, "You have to stop grabbing my fucking seat."

Before he could respond, the flight attended was on the scene. "Is everything ok here?"

"It would be if this gentleman would stop grabbing my seat to pull himself up when he goes to the bathroom every twenty minutes," I calmly replied.

Poor Fatty looked confused as the flight attendant addressed him. "Sir," she said, "please refrain from grabbing the seats of other passengers."

He mumbled an acknowledgement, staring daggers at me. I smirked at him and turned back around. I replaced my noise-cancelling headphones and lowered my hat. The cougars giggled at what just transpired. I dozed until the plane landed in Vancouver.

As I stood to exit the plane, I glanced at Fatty. He had the look of death warmed over; he spent the remainder of the flight coming off of his beer buzz. Perfect.

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Did I miss anything? What annoys the shit out of you during air travel? Was I too mean to Fatty?

Hit it up in the comments section.

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Traveling Angler Tuesdays launched June 26th, 2012 on mattrevors.com. My mission is to prove the concept of fly fishing travel abroad is not just the realm of old rich dudes and magazine writers & photographers. Keep checking back regularly as I share tips & tricks to get you to fly fishing locales you dream of going to. To see past articles & tips, click here.

19 September 2012

Things of Three II

The second edition of three items/subjects/places/people worth checking out to make life as an angler and global citizen far more enjoyable.

1. Marie Sharp's Habanero Sauce
I can barely put into words how awesome this hot sauce is.

Marie Sharp's is the hot sauce of angels.

There's heat, but the heat compliments the flavour of the sauce's carrot base without overpowering it. The Belizean Heat (smaller bottle) is considerably hotter, but still extremely flavourful; moreso than most hot sauces that I've tried previously.

About seventeen minutes after coming ashore, still wobbly with sea-legs, I sauntered into a Belizean grocer to buy some to bring back to Canada (the $1.04CDN = $1US = $2BZ exchange rate is highly favourable if anyone is interested in becoming a habanero sauce smuggler with me).

It's completely possible I've discussed Marie Sharp's more than I have the fishing since I returned. And it even makes turkey bacon tolerable.

Related note #1: Once we arrived at the airport, I accessed email for the first time in 8 days, where I saw the following passage in an email from my buddy Will: "Marie Sharp's habanero pepper sauce. Just sayin. Fill your boots and then cover your eggs." Done and done, William. Done. And. Done.

Web: www.mariesharps-bz.com

2. Columbia Airgill Chill shirt
I was looking to buy this shirt when I sent the following tweet:
I never expected Columbia to tell me to DM my address and size to get one to demo for free. That was pretty damn cool, although never the original intention. So thanks, Columbia!

Related note #2: Ironically, I've been telling people for the past month or so how I'm limiting the number of gear reviews I do on this site. I'd rather mention gear I've used & abused after purchasing it on my own dime. You might not have noticed, but I've been using this forum to (attempt to) expand my writing abilities, albeit slowly and one syllable at a time, as well as focusing on travel tips to help my fellow anglers (anyone? Bueller? Bueller?). Oh well. Who am I to turn down free swag?

In four words: I love this shirt.

In more than four words: I wore & abused the hell out of this shirt. Five of seven fishing days I wore it, with no washes in between. It was soaked in saltwater and sweat, smeared with fish slime, and drizzled with coffee, Marie Sharp's, Coca Cola, Belikan and very nearly tears. The Airgill Chill held up to all of it.

It's sturdily built but lightweight and quick-drying, with the right number, size and location of pockets to hold your camera and a small fly box. Size large was slightly baggy on me, but I didn't mind the loose fit in the billion and eight degree heat.

Two additional considerations: 1) it was surface-of-the-sun hot a few days there; and 2) I'm a Canadian who spent the majority of summer in far Northern latitudes. I was a pasty-white cracker in Belize, and the shirt's Omni-Shade® UPF 30 sun protection kept my upper body pasty-white throughout the week.

This is a premium fishing shirt. It will travel with me to any hot climate from here on in.

And yes, I would have gladly dropped my own coin on it with zero regrets. But I didn't have to, so big win for me.

Web: Columbia Performance Fishing Gear front page here; www.columbia.com

3. Coyote
No, not the cuddly animal. Coyote is the new album from Matt Mays. It's good. Like, really, really good. This may be blasphemous, but I like it better than Jack White's album Blunderbuss, and I thought that was the primo album of 2012...until I heard Coyote.

Check it out on the iTunes store here.

Here's the first track on the album; it's definitely one of my early favourites.

17 September 2012

The Clear Cure Charlie


Disclaimer #1: I am not a professional fly tyer.
Disclaimer #2: I am not a professional bonefisherman.

Both of the bonefish eats I had on Friday were on this fly pattern I tied up before the trip.

During marathon tying sessions prior to departure, I quickly tired of wrapping both flashabou and v-rib on the hook shank. Enter the Clear Cure Goo (laziness breeds ingenuity, folks).

Using the Clear Cure Goo instead of v-rib probably saved three-quarters of a minute for each tie, and it was fun pretending it was becoming irradiated to give it superhero powers when I blasted it with the ultraviolet light (e.g., the Hulk, Spiderman, Radioactive Man, etc).

An additional bonus to using the CCG is it makes the fly nearly indestructible. Like it had...superhero powers!

Disclaimer #3: Yes, there's a zillion patterns and recipes that are derived from Crazy Charlies (no tail) and Gotchas (with tail). This could be called a Gotcha, because it has a tail. I don't really care what it's called, it seemed to work, so I'm sharing it.
  • Hook: Tiemco 811S, size 8
  • Thread: Fire Orange, size 6/0
  • Eyes: small bead chain
  • Tail: 8-12 strands of pearl Crystal Flash, ~1.5x length of hook shank
  • Body: 4-5 strands of pearl Flashabou wrapped flat on shank, coated with a fine smear of Clear Cure Goo Brushable & irradiated with UV light
  • Wing: clump of white calf tail
  • Head: Fire Orange thread

07 September 2012

Gone Fishin'

The last fly of many tied in the past 36 hours to get ready for this adventure.
If taxis, airports & airplanes goes as planned, I'll be on a muthaf**kin' boat in Belize tomorrow afternoon.

Barring any high seas acts of piracy (most likely committed by me), I'll be back in nine or ten days.

It's Friday. Crank this tune up & have a great weekend.

06 September 2012

Things of Three

Three items/subjects/places/people worth checking out to make life as an angler and global citizen far more enjoyable:

1. Fish Tales Fly Shop, Calgary, AB
The positive side of getting weathered in at the project site in Nunavut last week is getting to meet Matlock (aka @findeep) for a quick fish on Alberta's Bow River and going for sushi with him & Cod (@chroniclesofcod) during a seven-hour layover. Best layover ever. Wet socks & all.

Matlock picked me up at the airport and we headed to his local fly shop so I could grab a license. The fact they had been closed for about an hour didn't really slow things down much; they unlocked the door and got me set up with both a license and the new issue of The Drake for my flight home.

Fish Tales is a great shop, loads of inventory and run by a seriously kick-ass nice dude. If you're in Calgary, it's worth a stop. And Cod guides outta there, too.

Check 'em out on the web here. For a Google Map, click here.

Supporting your local fly shop isn't a cliché. Try rolling into a BassPro or Canadian Tire to buy a license an hour after they're closed. Yeah, thought so...

2. The Shack Up Sessions
This is Ross Neilsen's new solo album, recorded inside the Robert Clay shack at The Shack Up Inn in Clarksdale Mississippi, just down the road from the famous crossroads of highway 49 and 61.

It's good. Really good.

Ross has been mentioned a few times here, and his music is on my regular rotation of playlists & albums. And for good reason: his songs are at times rocking and whisky-chugging, and always soulful and honest-to-goodness blues.

This album is a little less loud but still everything one could ask for in a blues album.

Ross also had a special message for the fly fishing crowd that reads this: "Keep yer poles bent."

You can preview and download the album here & on iTunes; for a physical copy shipped, click here.

Ross can be reached via his website, rossneilsen.com, and through Twitter, @rossneilsen.

And if this picture doesn't brighten your day, check your pulse.
Ross (right) & Karl's search for a bass player brought interesting characters.
3. William Joseph HemoCuts
One of my favourite fly fishing accessories. Probably one of the best sub-$20 items in the fly fishing industry, in my mind.

Pros: easy to grip, easy to open, pinch barbs up to 1/0 saltwater hooks, cutting blades are sharp, and they lock down tight when shut.

Cons: they don't make a big, eff-off size for toothy/salty critters.

Check 'em out here.

30 August 2012

Fishing at 66°N

Frequent high winds kept fishing to a minimum for me here in Nunavut. Maybe an hour or so every few nights from the dock or shore, typically sight-casting to 5-8" grayling with #12-18 dries & nymphs.

It was more practice for Belize (on the extreme small-scale) than it was fishing.

Lake trout were a hard target on the fly rod. For me, anyway. I watched one give one of my white-on-white Clousers a two-second glance before he casually swam on past while I looked on from the dock above. No love.

The one 'laker' I witnessed being caught on a fly was by someone casting for their first time ever, while myself & another part-time fly guide watched, cheered and coaxed him along. A new fly angler was born that night, and I was happy to be a part of it. Welcome to the addiction.

Note: the other guide works at the Location X eluded to in Project Salt.

Pilot graffiti
A few of us managed to weasel a trip in the helicopter for fishing one night. That was cool.

We covered the twenty-odd miles to our first spot in under 10 minutes. Awesome. That location wasn't happening so we flew along the river a couple hundred feet up, scouting for a fishy-looking hole.

Note: Bell 407s are far quicker than any bass boat, flats skiff, jet boat, kayak or truck to hop spots, that is for damn sure.

Our next spot looked far fishier. And it was: I landed a nice grayling of nineteen inches on my first cast. The CGR was the designated hitter on this trip, and the grayling put a most enjoyable bend in the glass. A bend which was compounded by the fast current. Fun times.

I wandered downstream and then upstream of the others, deciding on a perch above the rapid to swing a few different patterns in the current seams. I was trying to find that one lake trout silly enough to get in my species journal. At some point the wind picked up and brought some cold, misty rain but I didn't really notice.

After dozens of casts and a few fly changes, I glanced downriver to check on the others. They weren't there. A quick look over my shoulder told me everything I need to know: the group were standing beside the helicopter, hoods up and hands in pockets against the wind and mist. A couple were looking in my direction. I could read their thoughts: "Hurry the f**k up, you idiot. It's f**king cold!"

I reeled up and strolled over to the waiting group. I told them I had a problem, much like an alcoholic or a druggie.

The first cast is always free, hombre.

19 August 2012

Low & Clear Trailer

I enthusiastically joined the ranks of crowdfunding this afternoon: I backed Finback Films for their release of Low & Clear on Kickstarter (details here).

It's slightly anti-climatic for me to join on the last possible day, as the guys at Finback reached their goal within 6 days of starting their crowdfunding campaign. But I'm happy to add to the kitty: these guys maxed out credit cards and sold their vehicles to get Low & Clear to this point.

Kudos to them for their dedication. I'm pretty excited about seeing the full version of this.

Enjoy the trailer.

18 August 2012

Project Salt


What happens when you combine:
  • a love of saltwater fly fishing; 
  • a loving girlfriend who shares a love of traveling; 
  • a loving girlfriend who shares a disdain for Canadian winters; 
  • a hoarding mentality for Aeroplan miles; 
  • a new fishing kayak; 
  • a job as an independent contractor?
Project Salt* happens.

* - Project Salt because Project F**k This Canadian Winter Bullshit was far too long of a title. But we can initiate #FTCWBS on twitter, if people want...?

Campaign #1 - Belize (mid-September)
Campaign #2 - Florida (November - December)
Campaign #3 - Location X (early 2013)

It will be a journey of learning: new cultures, improving casting, new fly tying patterns, seeing different fish habitats, spotting fish, paddling, eating fish and more (including my lovely gf getting her PADI certification).

And you better believe there will a trip or two to Disney...

I'm so excited I could pee myself. But I won't, because that's just weird.

Screw you, winter!

13 August 2012

Birth of a 'yak angler

Random redfish picture, just so y'all know where my head is at.
(Taken at SC Aquarium, which is an awesome place)
Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing- absolutely nothing- half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats. - Kenneth Grahame

Bringing home my new Diablo Paddlesports' Chupacabra marked the end of an era: the Magnificent Basstard is for sale.

Note #1: I reverted back to calling it the Magnificent Basstard from The Aluminum Bastard since it's for sale.
Note #2: selling the boat would be a lot easier if I wasn't in Nunavut until late August.

A little piece of my brain was whispering about the adventures I could have with both The Magnificent Basstard (henceforth "the MB") and the Chupacabra paired up as part of an amphibious fly fishing strike force of awesomeness.

Common sense (and a promise to my lovely girlfriend) has won out; I will bid adieu to the MB as soon as a buyer is found. In fact, a few interested souls have already come forward.

I weighed the options of buying a fishing kayak last year, but the summer slipped by way too fast. I was away working a fair bit and next thing I knew it was September. And when October rolled around, I ended up buying the MB...and then promptly went to Idaho to work for the entire month.

Desires for a fishing kayak reared its head again in the spring, but having the MB and a trip booked to Belize in September kept any and all kayak delusions in check. It came down to simple economics: kayaks are sort of expensive.

A boat owner is a special breed of person. I battled with truck repairs, learning to back up with a trailer hitched, boat covers that collected more rainwater than they shed, parking issues, and a trailer that requires a little bit of servicing to pass inspection. As the summer once again started sliding past, I very calmly*, with no cursing whatsoever**, concluded I am not that breed of person. Not yet, anyway.

* - This is a lie.
** - This is not a lie, but replace 'doghouse' with 'boat trailer' in this video here.

Owning a powerboat, with the associated time, money and responsibilities that go with it just isn't for me at this current stage of my life.

Note #3: Without question, the MB itself is a great boat. My truck and the boat trailer have caused me all of my boating woes, with my work schedule being the main contributing factor to why the boat lies fallow.
Sea trials on Lake Sebago, Maine

But I still wanted (needed?) to be on the water.

The kayak had definite merits (many of which I told my lovely girlfriend). No trailer to worry about towing, parking space or government inspections. No gas bills. No possible future mechanical failures. No insurance. No lower unit to worry about in shallow water.

Less worry. Less hassle. Less money. All possible in less water.

Plus excuses for (lots of) physical activity under the guise of fishing and to build and rig things like storage out of milk crates and push-poles out of PVC.

Note #4: the word 'accessories' takes on whole new levels of awesomeness why you combine the words 'kayak' and 'fishing.'

Yes, I think a kayak is more my style.

Note #5: Especially if your talking about living room style:

Boat parking issues are SOLVED!

09 August 2012

Species Journal update

Trophy bluegill!
My recent trip with my lovely girlfriend to the South brought a little bonus: my first bluegill.

We were fishing with Dave from SCOF on Lake James for the afternoon (well, I was fishing; Becky read & took in the sun, and Dave rowed me around...which I appreciated). We were targeting some carp, largemouth and bluegill, which are referred to as bream 'round those parts.

It was a great afternoon to be on the water...and I caught a bluegill...or bream...a sunfish of some manner...

The night we returned home, I slipped out for a couple hours on the Nashwaak River with my new Chupacabra and caught a few yellow perch & creek chub.

Both the bluegill and yellow perch were updated on the Species Journal earlier today.

The creek chubs still remain an unofficial listing because I can't seem to get a picture of them; it was too dark for the camera phone when I caught my potential IGFA-record creek chub last week.

Species Journal Stats (number of fish species caught):

  • August, 2009: 1
  • August, 2010: 1
  • August, 2011: 6
  • August, 2012: 15

Note: Two fish (Northern Pike & Mahi-Mahi) have an asterisk due to being caught on conventional tackle. They are included in the totals above. Two fish (Striped Bass & Eastern Creek Chub) remain unofficial catches due to not having photographs and are not included in totals above.

24 July 2012

Traveling Angler Tuesdays Tip #5: Networking

Traveling Angler Tuesdays launched June 26th, 2012 on mattrevors.com. My mission is to prove the concept of fly fishing travel abroad is not just the realm of old rich dudes and magazine writers & photographers. Keep checking back regularly as I share tips & tricks to get you to fly fishing locales you dream of going to. To see past articles & tips, click here.

Oh Asheville, you so crazay!
Greetings from beautiful Charleston, SC!

This is edition of Traveling Angler Tuesdays will be short. This Traveling Angler is on vacation.

My lovely girlfriend and I departed Fredericton last Tuesday afternoon, embarking on an epic road trip. We swung through southern Ontario to hit the Toronto Zoo and Marineland in Niagara Falls, then pointed south to the Carolinas.

What's the draw of the Carolina's, you might ask?

For one, redfish. Of course.

But secondly, there's a cluster of cool dudes living down here that I wanted to meet and (hopefully) fish with. Guys like David from Southern Culture on the Fly and Cameron of The Fiberglass Manifesto.

Herein lies the Traveling Angler Tip of the week: learn how to make friends. In the professional world, this is called networking.

I briefly wrote about this in the Traveling Angler Tuesday post about research:
Hitting up Twitter, Facebook and Google+ and asking the right people if they or anyone they know have information might give you some leads as well. New to the social media thing? Sign up for Twitter and follow me. Then follow the fishing people I follow and politely ask us some questions. Twitter folks have all the answers.
The guys I've met or will meet I have spoken to before, either on Twitter or Facebook or Instagram or SCOF's web forum. To finally meet with them in real life after "knowing" them for months, if not years is pretty amazing.

And that is why networking in the fly fishing world is awesome.

Pro tip: Don't network in the douchey professional sense. The anglers on twitter & who write don't really like it. Don't be greasy or selfish. Follow some people on social media, read their stuff, make informative comments when necessary, share their links to their online content. Be friendly. Most people in the fly fishing online realm are extremely friendly & willing to share information, but be helpful to them in some way as well. Putting SCOF & TFM stickers on the new fairing of a roof rack is a start :)

*          *          *

I'm under the gun to get out of the hostel room & get to a beach, so that's it for this week's Traveling Angler Tuesdays (I didn't proofread this as much as usually do, so please excuse any typos).

The new Chupacabra
I'd like to give shout-outs to the following folks for helping our epic road trip so far with tips, information and other awesome stuff:

  • Thomas at Diablo Paddlesports, for helping with lots of questions & calling the dealer ahead of time for me.
  • Luthi's Fly Fishing in Greenville, for setting aside my new Chupacabra kayak and helping me instal my roof rack for it in the parking lot!
  • Cameron of The Fiberglass Manifesto, for Chupacabra info, restaurant & sightseeing ideas in Asheville and Charleston, and helping pick out a PFD for me in Columbia.
  • Dave of Southern Culture on the Fly, for the campsite referral and taking us out fishing on Lake James, where I knocked off a bream for my Species Journal!
We're off to see the fellas at Lowcountry Fly Shop this morning on our way to the beach.

I'm goin' redfishin' this week. I hope y'all wish me luck.

13 July 2012

Gone Fishin'

Just putting the finishing touches on my packing job for a two-day crown reserve water trip. Crown reserve here in New Brunswick is "a limited entry fishery, whereby angling opportunities on prime salmon and brook trout angling waters are allocated on a rod-per-day basis" (Gov't of NB website).

In other words, it gives us peasants who don't own the best private salmon pools a chance to fish good water without paying $500 per day.

Of course, when the government introduced mandatory catch & release regulation on some stretches to ease pressure on low salmon numbers, two-thirds of the peasants gave up their allocated days.

Civilized world, meet New Brunswick... #Facepalm

But for me, it's two days chasing my nemesis.

Happy Friday.


05 July 2012

Nemesis

nem·e·sis (noun)  \ˈne-mə-səs\
  • a formidable and usually victorious rival or opponent
*          *          *

My first experience with Atlantic salmon was with my uncle Guy (pronounced either the correct French way, as in 'Gee Lafleur,' or the bastardized version, as in Guy Smiley. Totally your choice. He'll go by either). Uncle Guy was the first one to put a fly rod in my hand on the Miramichi River.

I was 15 years old and grounded for missing curfew or something like that. I wasn't a bad kid by any means, it's just my parents had an (unreasonably) early curfew for me. It was easy to be late for curfew; I'd have to leave halfway through movies to be on time for curfew.

My friend & neighbour Paul used to tell me: "You can be late or not late. You can't be 'more late.'" It was hard to argue with that logic, so I really missed curfew that time. Turns out you could be more late after all.

So Uncle Guy came and hauled me off to his brother's camp for a few nights to get me out of my parents' hair. He introduced me to: fly casting for salmon, reading current seams, reading holding water, drinking Japanese sake, and drinking Lamb's Rum. Some punishment, huh?

Note to self: when I become a parent, never send the kids off with uncle Guy to a fishing camp for 'punishment,' but by all means send them for life lessons...

I hooked one salmon, did a massive trout-set, and it threw the hook on the first jump. And that was that.

*          *          *

Within a couple years, I started playing competitive rugby, curfews went away, I was off to university, yada yada yada. Salmon fishing didn't happen again for a while. I did, however, start eating salmon in its raw, Japanese form while in Vancouver.

If you ever find yourself living in Vancouver, you should expect to eat a lot of meals alone unless you eat sushi.

I preferred the wild Pacific salmon over the farmed Atlantic salmon. It had a better taste, consistency and colour. Consistency was the big thing when I started eating sushi: some things I couldn't chomp down on without getting a little queasy. I was good with the wild salmon, all wrapped nice and neat with rice and seaweed and avocado.

But I never fished for salmon in British Columbia (well, not until last summer).

*          *          *

I started trying for Atlantic salmon on the fly rod once again a few years ago. At first, they were admittedly half-hearted attempts with poor conditions and late in the season. I always considered salmon fishing as 'bonus fishing,' something to extend the fly fishing season after trout season ends (trout season here ends on September 15th, while salmon season runs until October 15th).

Once I made my move into smallmouth bass fishing on the fly, I dismissed the salmon fishing as an annoyance: dealing with private pools or crowded public pools, fickle fish, fickle anglers, extra driving time & money spent on gas, so on & so forth.

Smallies on the fly were keeping it real....yo.

But one can only get razzed for not catching salmon for so long when you're always hanging about a fly shop before you really have to go out and do it (if only to get people to shut the hell up).

So I hit the books and the interwebz on everything I could read on salmon fishing. And steelhead, too, because there are lots of similarities between the two fish. And it paid off: my first day on the water after my extensive self-directed online course, I caught two, back-to-back. I felt like King Shit of Turd Island: what was so hard about that?

Then this happened.

I was in a deep, dark place when I wrote that. And not deep in the woods, like Yellow Pine, Idaho, either. It was Joseph Conrad-type shit for fishing.

Atlantic salmon became the official nemesis of Mat Trevors.

Constantly outwitted by something with the brain the size of a pea? For that, there's MasterCard.

*          *          *

This season, things started off differently. More upbeat, cheerful. Fish came easy: bass and trout here at home, grayling in Alaska.

Even the other night, I was casting away to see if any of the salmon run made it upriver as far as I was when I received a text to go bass fishing. "Gladly," I thought. No big deal, haven't seen any fish roll or jump*. Besides, I was going back out salmon fishing in the morning, further downstream.

* - The Atlantic salmon's propensity to roll and jump can send me into the above-mentioned deep, dark place: there will be several, if not dozens, of fish jumping, rolling and splashing around. Sometimes within a few feet of where I'm wading, scaring the livin' bejeebus outta me. Based on my personal history, once salmon start to jump & roll, I should just leave. My nerves get too frazzled from the combination of seeing lots of fish, having them jump behind me to freak me out, and having none of them take a fly. See what I mean? They mock me. Nemesis.

The next morning (yesterday, as I type this) is when things went a little sideways.

The pool was crowded. Two guides and their sports worked the privately owned water just above the public pool. Two anglers in a jonboat were fishing the far side of the public pool. And eight people, including myself, were doing the cast-and-step shuffle, as dictated be Ye Olde Angling Etiquette.

Crowded or not, it turned out to be one of those epic sessions: eight fish were hooked in the span of about an hour. All bright fish, fresh in with the recent high water.

One of the biggest of those eight salmon was 12-15 pounds. It was fought hard and fought well for about seven minutes. With about ten feet of fly line out of the tip, the salmon was soon to be tailed. But then it decided to fuck with the angler, swim directly toward him and throw the hook in the slack line. The angler tried his best to maintain a positive demeanour, but disappointment and disbelief was unmistakable.

In reality, I fought the fish for a good length of time and was going to release the fish anyway. I'm excited that I chose the right fly, read the water correctly, made the proper cast, hooked the fish and fought him well. I didn't even have to handle him, so he was off to swim and spawn and be hooked again. But I would have an easier time sleeping at night (and handling the upcoming razzing at the fly shop) if I would have at least grabbed the leader before he popped off.

I'm going back tomorrow morning, getting on the road in about seven hours. On the water in eight.

And hopefully I'll be face to face with my nemesis shortly after that.

01 July 2012

Long weekend redfish fix

'cuz everyone needs a redfish fix, long weekend or not...



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27 June 2012

Style at Home Edition

After some delays caused by spending 8 or so weeks in Nunavut & Alaska, I finally have my redfish gyotaku print framed & hung above my work/tying bench.

It's pretty awesome just to zone out & look at the scale pattern and the artist's work on the edges of the fins & tails.

But it does nothing to stem my desires to load up girl, dog, rods & flies and point the truck south.


The talented Catherine Karnes-Munn looked after the framing for me & she did an awesome job.

Thanks, Cathy!!


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