flymage magazine issue #24 fall 2014
DESCRIPTION
Flymage Fly Fishing and Photography Magazine. Isseu #24 - Fall 2014 flyfishing, flymage magazine, fly fishing magazine, rooster fish, trout, fishingTRANSCRIPT
A DAY OF WORK IN PICTURESBy Johan Wallestad
The Global Fly-Fishing NetworkFly Dreamers
RODS, CARP AND CAMERAsJosé H. Weigand y Carlos del Rey
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68
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80
CONTENtS
CONTRIBUTORS
JOSÉ H. WEIGANDEDITOR
RAY MONTOYA, JOHAN WALLESTAD, NACHO PUYAL, CARLOS DEL REY, JOHN LANGRIDGE, JOSÉ L. GARCÍA, MIKEL ELEXPURU.
A. MUÑOZDESIGN
COVER PHOTO - © Ray Montoya
WAITING FOR THE MANBy Ray Montoya
42PyReNEeS 2.0By Nacho Puyal
www.flymage.net
A day of work in Images
Photos: J. Wallestad
Johan WallestadAtlantic Salmon
Guide
Johan Wallestad (left)
“My passion is Salmon and Sea trout fishing. Have been fishing in Norway since 1997 chasing Atlantic Salmon with a fly rod. Start guiding for the NFC in the Gaula, and now working for a swedish company who fish both in Gaula and Orkla! (most of the fishing is in Orkla).Season starts in june and ends at the end of August, before and after fishing in Norway I spend a lot of time in my home rivers chasing sea trout”.
Contact: [email protected]
www.urruzuno.com - Tel.: (34) 943 305 011
Coming soon New Website and Catalog
You may have seen the classic video, “Running Down the Man” which featured the antics of Ben Knight, Travis Rummel and Frank Smethurst chasing down roosterfish with fly rods and a beach buggy. Up until then, the concept of fly fishing for roosters on foot was thought to be pure fantasy. The video inspired a fervor of interest amongst the SWFF community and a whole new industry sprung up over night. Today, tricked out quad bikes with custom made cool boxes, rod holders and rooster decals ply the East Cape Beaches of Baja, Mexico. But I’m a DIY fisherman. I had no quad bike or guide, so covering long desolate stretches of beach on foot in 40 plus degree heat was not feasible, especially for a man my age. What I did have was experience, some patience, and time to wait out the man.
Waiting For The Man
by Ray Montoya
Day four, another scorcher. By noon, temps have risen above 40 degrees. In the distance, foamy sheets of surf wash over the hot sand. A layer of steamy haze makes the sea, appear inverted, misplaced. Behind me, towering cumulus thunderheads stack up against jagged, desert mountains. I huddle motionless under a cheap Chinese umbrella fixed to a piece of plastic plumbing pipe. I try to keep my body as small as possible, burying my exposed feet deep into the sand to keep them from burning. Stinging sweat trickles into the creases of my eyes as I draw from a gallon jug of warm water. Another hour passes and
I've seen nothing but a few needlefish, but it keep my focus intently on the distant shoreline. Inevitably, one's inner voice becomes an audible mumbling. Through my buff I softly chant, they're just jacks, they're just jacks, they're just jacks...
I've had a life long love affair with jacks. Anyone who's fished for this species, regardless of their size, can attest to their brutish strength. They are perfectly designed to eat flies and can be ridiculously reckless in their feeding behavior. But don't underestimate the older, larger fish, especially the ones that no longer require the security of a pack. Big
jacks are smart and can be finicky as hell. I'm not talking about the chummed up GTs of Christmas Island fame, but those rare single geets I've seen pushing a wall of water across a reef flat, or those thuggish beach cruising Crevalle, or, the reason I was sitting on this god forsaken East Cape beach, those broad shouldered, loco-ass roosterfish. These are the wild, free range jacks of my dreams, the fish that I live for.
Jacks are undoubtedly the most targeted saltwater fly species worldwide. They can be stalked on flats, chased down on beaches, enticed over reefs, and hunted over open blue water. On surface poppers, they have no rival. Roosterfish are basically jacks-freakishly beautiful jacks, as pretty as they come, but jacks nonetheless. I continually had to remind myself of this during those excruciating afternoons sitting on a sweltering beach. While this fact made the fantasy of landing a big rooster seem a little more plausible, it did nothing to quell the shaking in my legs
each time one came within casting range. Roosters can reach well over 100 pounds which puts them up there with geets. As for degree of difficulty, they are as tough as they come. Factor in the conditions one must endure just to get a legitimate shot from a beach, especially if you're attempting it DIY on foot, and you've got a recipe for a disappointment. I certainly arrived prepared to have my ass handed to me on a plate, but at the same time, I knew I had no business being out there if I didn't honestly believe that it could be done.
There were mornings when I felt this impossibility. There were days when it felt like a job, up early each morning making coffee and pinche cheese sandwich for lunch. The long drive to the beach, the twenty minute slog over sand that was already hot under foot by nine am. Rigging rods, setting up the shade, followed by long hours of waiting and watching for shadows. Mexico in August will suck every ounce of life out you. The mind wanders aimlessly, the vision blurs,
and just as you begin to fight the pangs of an afternoon siesta, like the Virgin herself, an apparition materializes.
At first you don’t believe it. Are those actually roosters? You stare hard, trying to focus, and suddenly one shadow divides into three heavy bodied fish cruising up the shore line. A wave of
adrenaline washes away the sleepiness. You spring up, rod in hand and sprint over hot sand down the beach, trying to get ahead of your target. Frantically stripping line from the reel while checking your rear view to see if you’ve been spotted, you don’t even notice your burning bare feet until you drop down to the coolness of the water’s edge.
You stop and wait for your vision to clear, desperately scanning the surf wash for a fin. Again, you stare hard until you’ve got a lock on them. You shoot your fly out, glancing down to see that the line isn’t tangled around your feet. Fly line whistles through the guides, turning the large fly over with a hard splash. The cast is good, it’s well out in front and the splash seems to have gotten their attention.
I allow it sink a little further before giving it that first hard rip. This has got to be the twentieth fish I’ve cast to in a week. I’m expecting the group to turn away from the beach, but instead, the largest fish rockets forward, mouth agape and devours the fly. I strip set, swinging the rod as hard as I can.
It felt as if I was watching it all unfold in some sort of horrific slow motion scene. Instead of coming tight, I watch the fly come shooting out of the water sail over my head and plop lifeless on the beach behind me, sans eyes. My heart sinks. I spin back towards the water. The
rooster is circling, confused, frantically searching for whatever escaped. Without thinking, without a false cast, I quick shoot the fly back out. The rooster, comb fully erect, sees the offering and rushes the fly again, this time inhaling it. I strip set repeatedly and immediately feel the hook sink deep and hard. The fish bolts, sending coils of line looping through the air. The remaining fly line in the surf and sand clear my feet, the reel, the fighting butt, even the buttons on my shirt, the drag finally engages, loops and knots came snugly without popping, and the backing purrs smoothly off the spool. The distinctive sound of a Tibor drag punctuates the actuality of the moment, and I realize that I have just hooked a freakishly large rooster. In less than a minute the fish has reached blue water, and once again, I’m mumbling to myself, but this time the mantra is, holy shit, holy shit, what have I done?
I sat on a beach for five days anticipating, waiting, hoping for this moment and now I’m faced with a myriad
of scenarios. There are so many little things that could go awry. To land this fish, a sequence of events must align-a harmonic convergence of luck and preparation. I had done the prep, meticulously sharpened my hooks, double checked knots and leader connections, properly packed my backing, done everything possible. At this point, it was all a matter of fate, if you believe in such things.
Standing there on that beach, alone, pinned to that rooster for nearly an hour was one of the most emotionally draining experiences of my life. There is no second guessing, you’ve pulled the trigger, and now you’ve got to deal with the situation even when the situation, the reality of landing such a fish, seems like pure fantasy. But slowly, slowly, slowly, you begin to recover backing. With each gain, the fish makes another panicked sprint, and so it goes, back and forth, give and take. After forty grueling and very anxious minutes, I finally see fly line again. For the first time I start to believe that I actually have a chance to land this fish.
When I saw that rooster for the second time I was shocked. She was much larger than I had imagined, well over fifty pounds, maybe sixty. Amazingly, the other two fish that were with her, each about forty pounds, were still by her side. As I gently slid her into shallow part of the beach, her escorts melted away into deeper water. Then, as if she sensed I meant her no harm, she gently turned on her side, exhausted. Using the swell, I pull her up on to the coquina, drop the rod and sprint down to grab her. At first I try to tail her, but she’s too damn heavy, so I slide my hand in between her gill plate and jaw and drag the big girl just above the water mark. I’ve caught larger fish than this on the fly, but nothing like this from a beach. I toss my ten weight next to her and snap a few awkward pics. Realizing how futile photographing this rooster is, I quickly haul her back into the water.
It took nearly fifteen minutes to revive her, during which I attempted a few more pics, but she’s proves to be too large for a proper selfie. I
could have dragged her back to where I had left my pack and set up a timed shot, but the stress probably would have killed the poor girl. In the end, I settled for a few grainy gopro images, happy that she was able to recover and swim away with vigor.
Dehydrated and emotionally spent, I gathered my kit and retreated back to my umbrella where I sat for a long while just trying to take it all in. At this point, the light was getting too low to see fish, so I packed up and made my way back to rental car where I celebrated with a fresh water rinse and an ice cold Pacifico from my styrofoam cooler.
Normally when I land a permit, it’s only a matter a minutes before I’m hungry for another. They’re like potato chips that way. But big roosters? I have to admit, I wasn’t quite ready to go at it again the next day. Still, with one day left to fish, why not? I managed another great shot at a fish nearly the same size. She turned on the fly aggressively before looking up and seeing me crouched
low on the edge of the surf. Yes, I wanted that fish, but it didn’t break my heart when she veered out into deep water. Roosters! I have so much respect for them, as I do for all the jacks. They are the ultimate redemption species.
Postscript:
I stopped in the village of Barriles on my way to the airport. The owner of East Cape Tackle, Cindy Kirkwood was there. Knowing she had seen a lot of roosterfish, I asked if she would have a look at some of my pics. Cindy was visibly impressed. She estimated my rooster to be over fifty pounds, approaching sixty. The pending IGFA fly rod record is just over sixty pounds, a fish caught from a boat last June by Margaret Shaughnessy. The fish took four hours to land on twenty pound tippet, such is the antiquated ridiculousness of line class records. Without a doubt, my fish was a record class rooster, but the memory of watching that fish swim away was worth all the records in the world.
Ray MontoyaOriginally from New Mexico, in 1994 he moved his family overseas teach at International Schools in West Papua, the Philippines Islands and for the past nine years, Oman.
He purchased his first fly rod in 1972 and has traveled and fished in over twenty countries.
Ray has published numerous fly fishing articles including some in Flymage Magazine.
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by Mikel Elexpuru
Pyrenees 2.0Text and Photos: Nacho Puyal
Once again, I’m unnerved by the imminent start of the fishing season high in the mountains. The last few days waiting seem eternal. My head does not stop spinning. I shuffle through the usual variables, the quality of the fish, weather information, what the winter’s been like and so on, with the accumulated experience and knowledge of the terrain, imagining what I’ll find...
How many times after a long journey have I found it impossible to fish or even get to my destination because of the amount of accumulated snow and ice. The night before, I am unable to sleep, the key day has finally arrived. As soon as the alarm sounds I am up, it’s 4 am and everything is ready to go. As I drive through the night, I gradually see more clearly and the sun begins to ask for permission to rise. I
like to arrive early, by first light and feel the cool breeze on the face as my body starts to get warm on the first, hard slopes. Gradually, the blurred silhouettes of the mountains begin to take shape, it is just them and me. Silence and solitude make me feel insignificant, while my accelerated heartbeat pumps, bringing me back to reality, reminding me how lucky I am able to experience these feelings.
Making my way, concentrating on my breathing, I’m remembering the toughness of these places. “This year it seems I’m out of shape, it´s not easy”, I think you really have to work each step of the way, but that effort will bring your reward.
On the way I come across local fauna, sometimes surprising suspicious-natured marmots that run away to their burrows, and once there observed me curiously, watching my movements. Also I find myself face to face with the king of these heights, the chamois, which races off, putting distance between us in a few seconds, never to meet again.
My goals here are very clear, to catch good sized trout and some stunning char. With trout I usually adapt to the needs of the day and the size of fish I can find in the lakes I know, but I have two key premises. First, not to cast to just any fish that comes my way, but to be selective, and look for big one. Second, to try to catch them on dry fly. The sensations that I experience, stalking and waiting for them to be at casting distance and let me place a “foam bug” or a #18 diptera, is a pleasure hard to beat, an almost sickening emptiness. Seconds become eternal, everything goes in slow motion, they are the queens of the river and take the fly without fear. The strike must also be that way, controlled, sure that trout has taken.
Chars are curious, wildly beautiful, aggressive and competitive feeding fish. In fishing for them, the main thing is the location of waters in which there are stable populations. The more virgin these places, the more likely you will find great char.
Small char group together and are always hungry; they can sometimes hinder the catching of larger specimens, due to their great competitiveness after the fly. On the other hand it is not uncommon to have a small one on and suddenly a big fish appears from nowhere, trying to swallow it. They are not usually very selective, being catchable both on the surface or with nymphs and streamers.
The sad part is that some of these small paradises that were one home to healthy populations of char with good specimens, are in clear decline -some of them fished out- by human action and poaching.
The gear I use has few secrets. A 9 foot rod for #6 line with progressive action that allows me to cast both big flies, streamers and nymphs, as well as when fishing with small flies and fine tippets. Fast action rods are useless for this purpose, and it is harder to make delicate presentations. WF lines with a progressive profile, and leaders depending on the circumstances, the topography of the lake, wind conditions, etc.
One last recommendation, the high mountains test you constantly. Go well prepared and aware of your personal limitations, it is essential to avoid a dangerous situation.
Nacho PuyalFly fisherman and photographer for over 20 years, Nacho is an enthusiastic to spread fly fishing and photography in Spain.
To learn more about him you can visit his Facebook page Fly Fishing and Photography Spain
visitfaroeislands.com
stories
untoldbig fish, big landscape, big tales
visitfaroeislands.com
stories
untoldbig fish, big landscape, big tales
The Global
Fly Fishing Network
With over 65,000 registered anglers, it is the first global network for fly fishermen only. Fly dreamers has a section with the best contents shared by users, another section for Fishing Reports and a fly-fishing Directory.
Fly dreamers is the first global fly-fishing network. It’s a place that offers all kinds of solutions to fly fishermen. The website has the best contents that were shared, classified and geolocated by users stored in an organized Library. The anglers can also plan their fishing trips with the special sections of Fishing Reports and the Directory, in which they can contact guides, agents and lodges.
The founders of Fly dreamers are Luis San Miguel, a civil engineer, and Nicolás Schwint, a veterinarian. Both have always been bonded by the passion for fly fishing. In late 2010, coming back from a golden dorado fly-fishing trip in Corrientes (Argentina), they had a long talk concerning the lack of conservational activities related to fishing resources.They determined to start a project based in Argentina, but with global reach. They believed that by gathering a skilled team they could create a space to share their view on conservation with other anglers from around the globe.
Their dream was to get back to the basics of this ancient sport. They knew that the information
about fly fishing in the Internet was sometimes disorganized and poor. First, they thought about a blog with quality info from around the world, managed by themselves and with some contributors.
Later on, another idea arose: creating a 2.0 site where world anglers could connect, share stories and access all kinds of products and services related to the sport. In a time when networks were booming, the fly-fishing community claimed their space for complete expression. That’s how Fly dreamers was born, a meeting point made for those who live and dream about fly fishing.
Most anglers spend most of their time in their jobs, far from the water. With this in mind, Fly dreamers came up with a place where they could stay in touch with their passion. They created this network combining the best available tools in order to deliver a unique experience.
In November of 2011, the dream came true: Fly dreamers went online. Then, in early 2013, the offices were opened and the team was created. Today, Fly dreamers has more than 150,000
photos; 4,000 videos; 800 articles and 300 step-by-step tying instructions.
Social Network and Library.
In the Social Network section, users share their photos, videos, articles, reports and SbS tying instructions. This is posted on a wall that is permanently renovated, displaying new contents at all times. When one of these receives several votes, it is then stored in the Library, where the best contents are organized.
Directory and Fishing Reports.
Fly dreamers has an exclusive Directory for those who offer guiding services, casting and tying instructions, travel and lodging.In this new section, anglers can plan their trips by contacting guides, instructors, outfitters, agents, lodges and fishing hotels from around the globe. The users can make the best choice for their next adventures by seeing the ratings and opinions other users have left on the Directory profiles.
In addition to the Directory, Fly dreamers launched a new section in which fly fishermen are able to upload Fishing Reports from any spot around the world.
ConservationToday, there are 6,700 million persons in the planet, and the human impact on the ecosystem can be reduced by creating global awareness. Fly dreamers will support that cause by backing diverse water conservation projects and educating communities about the importance of protecting the resources. To do this, they will destine 5% of their income. In the midterm, the network will
also offer anglers the possibility of making online donations to projects about conservation of water resources.
MagazineFly dreamers released a magazine that offers the readers selected information of the world of fly fishing. It is printed in Spanish every three months and it can be acquired through the Spanish version of the website.In it, the readers will find interviews, articles, photography, news, events, techniques and tips, travel opportunities, professional profiles and tying instructions, among many other contents.
Enjoy Argentina. Andes Drifters style.
Full service outfitter providing customized itineraries
combining the sporting life and the good life.
Fishing, hunting, adventure and lifestyle company with
over 15 years of experience.
www.andesdrifters.com
andes drifters
Enjoy Argentina. Andes Drifters style.
Full service outfitter providing customized itineraries
combining the sporting life and the good life.
Fishing, hunting, adventure and lifestyle company with
over 15 years of experience.
www.andesdrifters.com
andes drifters
TRIBUTe to the CLAssics
black WOOLLY BUGGER
Rods, Carp and Cameras
Photos: José H. Weigand and Carlos del Rey
© Carlos del Rey
© Carlos del Rey
© Carlos del Rey
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3 Because you love Fly Fishing, Travel and Photography
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Issue #25 Winter 2015