Author Archives: Steve Culton

Reacquainting Yorkshire with Pulaski

It’s been another one of those steelhead seasons. Call it what you will — slow? Or maybe just a down year. But those years are now coming in bunches. That’s why I’m going with the Great Steelhead Recession. We’re chasing a fish that, in the best of times, is hard-earned. But the last three years have raised the emotional stakes to levels that will test an angler’s resolve. You can see it in the beleaguered eyes of the skunked. Hear the bitter tinge in their words (“Three days. Nothin’.”). The parking lots from Altmar to Pineville bear mute testimony to the current state of the fishery. November 9. Afternoon. Prime time. Three cars in the Ellis Cove lot, one at Lower Sportsman’s, none at the Refrigerator.

But, when you’ve booked a trip, you go. Prepare for the worse. And hope for the best.

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I didn’t get a good hook set on the first steelhead. Fresh chrome — that was evident even in the tea-stained waters. But steelheaders live by their drag, and some die by it, like me, who had it screwed down way too tight for that first run. Pop! Stonefly thus liberated from metallic mouth. Hot, burning ownership of blame consumed me. And now I had to live with the thought that that might be my only touch of the day.

Into the seventh hour of fishing. The sun was out now, and I noticed a few whispy midges freeing themselves from their watery prison. Since it was time to change flies, I rummaged around in my box for the smallest, midgeiest, most emergerly fly I could find. There it was. Snipe and Purple, soft hackle, size 10. I’d tied it up years ago, then stuck it into a corner of my fly box. And there it sat, forgotten, waiting patiently for this moment.

I turned to Jim, my guide, and announced, “I’ll bet none of your clients have ever caught a steelhead on a Snipe and Purple soft hackle.”

There comes a time during every drift when the angler decides it’s over. On this particular one, I began to lift the rod just at the moment when the fly would have started swinging up from the bottom. The steelhead had been holding there, perhaps feeding on nymphs, when he saw the bug coming at him suddenly dart toward the surface. He made a decision. I want that.

Jim saw the flash just as I felt the sharp tug. Even has he was saying, “What?!?” I was driving the point of the small wet fly hook home. This time I remembered to set my drag.  Multiple runs, two dramatic aerials, then the net. And in the midst of hard times, we were celebrating our newfound wealth.

Sun reflecting off cold, hard cash, not too long from Lake Ontario.

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Purple silk, gold rib, and a land bird hackle. That’s the actual fly at lower right. You can find the full article I wrote about these Yorkshire-inspired steelhead patterns here.

Steelhead Spiders

A flash mob, steelhead style

The corks are loaded. Soon, empty fly box slots will be filled. And then all that will be needed are hungry mouths.

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Arts of the Angler redux

It was a bit of a random Saturday at the AOA show, but we managed to get through it in fine shape. Let me explain. Due to hockey coaching conflict, I couldn’t get to Danbury until 1:30pm. While I had every intention of tying, by the time I arrived, Tyer’s Row was a crowded house. Rather than squeeze in for a few minutes (I was going to be presenting at 3pm and had to set up), I made the command decision to head to Conference Room 1. John Shaner was wrapping up his excellent Soft Hackles presentation, and I caught the last few minutes of that. So if you were wondering, “Where’s Steve?” now you know. I set up, and had some good conversations with the early arrivers for “Wet Flies 101.”

So: thanks to everyone who came to see me. Thanks to the Catskill Fly Fishing Center & Museum for allowing me to present, and for accommodating my crazy schedule. And thanks to everyone who hung around and asked so many terrific questions.

No more presentations until 2017. In the meantime, I really need to go fishing.

There’s that guy again…

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Steelhead Hammer variant

It’s a nymph! It’s an egg! It’s an egg-sucking nymph! Whatever it is, steelhead like the Steelhead Hammer. And that’s half the battle, isn’t it?

There are two versions of the Steelhead Hammer that I’m aware of. The first is commonly referred to as “the Orvis version.” It features a woven body and an Estaz thorax that extends east-to-west from under a case back, much like Rusher’s Steelhead Nymph. The version I’m featuring here is a much simpler tie. (I’m all for simple when there’s a good chance my fly will be sacrificed to the river bottom gods.) Canadian tyer Darren MacEachern did an online SBS on this fly several years ago, and that’s where I first learned of it. I’ve been fishing it ever since.

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Hook: Orvis 62KC size 8-10
Thread: UNI Fire Orange 6/0
Tail: Soft hen hackle fibers
Body: Two strands of black floss
Rib: Small silver holographic tinsel
Thorax: Estaz Opal Petite (color to match tail)
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 My favorite colors are purple, chartreuse, light blue, and pink. You, of course, should play around with your favorites. Anyone for peach, orange, red, white, black…?
A purple Steelhead Hammer sits for a formal portrait.

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The Steelhead Hammer Rogues’ Gallery:
Pink size 8, Salmon River, Pulaski, NY
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Farmington River report, Arts of the Angler show reminder, and a (gasp!) tying video

I visited the Farmington today to test the waterproofness (if that’s a word) of my winter waders and to get in a little fishing. Lord, it was crowded for weekday in November. I visited five location above, below, and in the TMA. For me, the catching stunk. I blanked on nymphs, and it wasn’t until I switched over to streamers that I was able to bump up a couple fish. No one else I spoke to reported having much success, so maybe it was just one of those days. The water is still low and the rock garden effect remains.

A reminder that I will be tying and presenting “Wet Flies 101” this Saturday afternoon, November 5, at the Arts of the Angler show in Danbury. You can find everything you need to know here.

Finally, ladies and gentlemen, we have a tying video. It’s a steelhead attractor pattern, and I will post it tomorrow.

An 11th hour steelhead that came on the fly featured in my newest video.

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No more Mid Atlantic Fly Fishing Guide

I received this sad news last week. No more print issues of the MAFFG will be forthcoming. The publishers are currently exploring means of converting the magazine to a viable electronic format. But the days listening to the sweet-sounding rustle of heavy stock newsprint as you devoured the latest issue are over.

Its publishers dubbed MAFFG “the finest regional fly fishing magazine on the planet.” I’d be inclined to agree. I really loved that magazine, both reading and writing for it. There was something in every issue I could count on to make me a better, more well-rounded angler. From a professional standpoint, the editor, Mike Klimkos, gave me one of my first opportunities as an outdoor writer. And as my product matured, he gave me extraordinary editorial freedom.

So, thank you, Mike. Thank you, publisher Paul Rouse, for your kindness and generosity. And so long, old friend.

I’ll take some solace knowing that my work appeared in the last issue of MAFFG.

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Meanwhile, up north in Pulaski…

…my spies tell me it’s good news/not-so-good news. The good: after a couple very down years, the 2016 salmon run has been strong. Here’s a quote from a local guide: “I thought that it would be a good run this year but it has far exceeded expectations.” More good: the watershed received several inches of much needed rain last week. The river jacked up to 2K; current level at Pineville is just over 700cfs. Everyone’s different, but I like higher water for this fishery. A strong salmon run means more eggs and rotting carcasses in the system, so right now is a good time to be tying up some egg and flesh patterns (and of course your favorite nymphs).

Now to the not-so-good: where are the steelhead? Those of us who remember the cruel disaster than was last year’s “run” are eager to return to the halcyon days of prodigious numbers of pre-spawn chrome. So far, that has not happened. Hopefully the next few weeks will see a big push of fish. Otherwise, we may be in for another long, cold, lonely winter.

Come back, baby!

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Maryland’s 2016 striped bass YOY count: not good

This is an annual census taken by Maryland’s DNR to determine recruitment strength for the previous spring’s (as in a few months ago) class of new-born striped bass. The number was 2.2 (the long-term average is 11.9). While every year is different, this only continues a downward trend that began the year after the banner class of 1996.

You can read more about the count on the stripersforever.org website here.

It’s a long, long way from 1996. 

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“Wet Flies 101” at the 2016 Arts of the Angler show

The Arts of the Angler is a terrific regional show hosted by my friends at the Catskill Fly Fishing Center and Museum. It’s a weekend affair, and it happens this year on November 5th & 6th at the Ethan Allan Inn in Danbury, CT.

This year, I’ll be tying and presenting “Wet Flies 101” on Saturday afternoon, November 5th at 3pm in Room 1. I have a hectic morning, so I’ll be tying as soon as I am able, but it won’t be until 1pm or later. My Sunday is still up in the air — I may be tying on Sunday, too. I’ll update you with that information if it happens. Come out and support the museum, and of course please stop by and say hello.

Here’s the current presentation schedule (I am not responsible for changes):

Saturday, 11/5

For more information, visit the cffcm website.

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Midnight on the Water in Rhode Island

No sightings of the ocean’s daughter. But I did spend some time watching a small pod of stripers move and feed on the tide change. We’ll get to that in a minute.

In the space of three hours, I managed to fish: skinny water on the incoming and outgoing; under a bridge (I love shadow lines at night); the inside of a salt pond; an estuary on a ripping incoming tide; and a snotty beachfront from a jetty. I fished hard and I fished well, and I dearly wish I could tell you that I slayed ’em, but all I could manage was one dink and a few courtesy bumps.

The outside beach continues to vex me. Conditions off the jetty last night were just about perfect:  a good SSW breeze, substantial breakers, surging whitewater wash. But no predators. This particular spot is a serial disappointment; it used to be an I-need-to-catch-a-striper-so-I’ll-fish-here destination. 2016 makes it 4 consecutive years I’ve blanked at it.

The bridge, the estuary, and the salt pond were good places to fish if you wanted to hook weeds. I did not want to, but managed a prodigious haul of vegetal flotsam.

My only bass came on my second cast of the evening on the incoming. After, I drove around to explore the other places, then spent the last hour alternately casting to and watching a small pod of school bass drift into position at the turn of the tide (it was easy to see them in the bright moonlight). But the bait wasn’t there in any volume, and the stripers didn’t bother to stick around.

And once the clock hit the wee small hours, neither did I.

There. That’s what I’m talking about. Failed experiment in night photography aside, that whitewater wash bottom center is prime real estate for casting your fly. The jetty allows you to fish into the pocket formed by the rocks and sand, not to mention a good parallel shot to the trough just off the beach. When the bass are in there, you find yourself in tight line territory pretty fast.

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