The importance of keeping a log

Although I’ve been fishing for over five decades, I didn’t start keeping a fishing log until the summer of 2004. At this point in my life, I was seriously devoted to fly fishing. Being an autodidact, I reckoned that I’d learn more, quicker, and retain more if I could journal and reference my outings. I wasn’t wrong.

Since then, I have logged every fishing trip and every lesson I’ve given. I’ve filled six 192-page books with all kinds of data: place, time, date, water and air conditions, and then a journal-style description of the outing: what worked, what didn’t, what I think I could have done better, etc. What were the hatches/bait, and how strong were they? How were other people doing? What did I do well?

My O.G. log entry about a Farmington River outing with old pal Paul Kingsford. I didn’t even know some of the proper names of the pools; that’s Hawes, aka Bikini Rock, that I called “the big rock boulders/cliffs.” I haven’t changed the format all that much in the last 20+ years.

About 10 years ago, when life seemed to get exponentially busier, I got into a good/bad habit: voice recording my outings, then transcribing them into the journal. It was good because I didn’t have to write it all down immediately; the recording was made minutes after getting off the water, so everything was fresh in my memory. Later, during transcription, I might remember additional details. The bad habit part began when I would get lazy and not fill the pages with reports for weeks. I beg to report that my sloth has gotten so profound that I am now two years — you read that right — behind on my transcriptions. I’ll be getting to that shortly after I post this.

Some of you may wonder why, with today’s e-tech, I even bother handwriting it. Fair point. But I’m an analog guy at heart, and there’s something about my own script that adds humanity to what would otherwise be a cold, antiseptic printed document. Besides, I like my leather-bound hardcover books.

These books are more than a nostalgic preservation of memories. They’re a detailed roadmap to success. I can watch my progression as a fly fisher. I can observe how my best practices evolve. Not everyone’s a writer, but my journals were an invaluable resource when I was writing my Farmington River book. And these journals serve as a bittersweet reminder of what we’ve lost: the epic blitzes on Block Island, the prodigious power of the W/S Caddis hatch, the 50 smallmouth nights on the Housatonic. I still have it all at my fingertips.

I like to say during a lesson or a presentation that I’m not right. But I’ll stand by this statement: if you want to become a better angler — and catch more fish — you should be keeping a log.

Currentseams Best of 2024 #1: Ladies and Gentlemen, Steve Culton is Writing a Book!

You probably saw this one coming a mile away. Obvious or not, signing a publishing contract with Stackpole Books and beginning work on the Fly Fishing Guide to the Farmington River was easily the biggest deal for me in 2024. Technically, I’m halfway done. Practically, I’ve got a lot more work to do.

For starters, even though I’ve finished my first 50% of the work, I’ve still got to go back through it all and make some editorial adjustments. This isn’t merely changing a few words; the workload can probably be counted in weeks. No complaints, though! It’s a privilege to be charged with writing this book, and anything with my name on it is going to be the best it can possibly be.

I’ll be back to it sometime in early January. And of course, you’ll hear all the latest and greatest right here as things develop.

This is where the magic happens. I really like my writing space — although, the vista behind me is currently brown and white and gray. Winter is a good time for a big writing job.

Currentseams Best of 2024 #4-#2

#4: The Edison Fly Fishing Show. I love being a part of all of the Fly Fishing Shows, but there was something about this year’s Edison show that particularly struck my fancy. I think it’s because I reconnected with so many old friends, strengthened some newer friendships, and had some really good first-time meetings. I gave away and traded a bunch of flies. My classes drew well, and I had some impressive crowds for my talks. Oh. I also bought stuff — some I wanted, some I needed, all of it putting a smile on my face. If you came to see me speak or if you took one of my classes, thank you again. And did I mention the wine party and my take-out run to Shanghai Dumpling? See you next month!

If we were kids in school, the teacher might have to separate us…

#3: The Best Striper of the Year an Hour Into my First Trip. After I caught and released her, I considered staying to fish some more. But I knew that it wasn’t going to get any better than this wonderful 25-pound fish. The experience made such an impact that I ended up writing a story about it, “At the Intersection of Lucky and Good” for Surfcaster’s Journal. You can read it in issue #86.

I almost didn’t go that night in March. I’ve written before that while I believe that fish aren’t intelligent, the eyes of a striped bass like this one communicate a different story to me. I hope she’s still swimming.

#2: Bill’s First Steelhead. I have three sons, and they’ve all caught steelhead. Except for Bill. Number One Son went with me once about ten years ago, but the neither the weather nor the steelheading gods smiled upon us. Time went on, year after year, until it came to pass that Bill and I found ourselves standing on the banks of North Sandy Creek in the pre-dawn hours of the Monday before Thanksgiving. As I have done with my other sons, I placed Bill in the skilled hands of guide extraordinaire Row Jimmy. For over an hour, nothing. And then it happened.

Happiness is hooking and landing your first steelhead. Well done, Bill!

Currentseams Best of 2024: #7-#5

#7: Steelheading in PA. You can get spoiled pretty quickly on the Erie tribs. Not the case this year. A parching autumn drought kept the creeks at a trickle, and what did come up from the lake was skittish and in constant state of high alert. I fished Elk Creek in November with guide extraordinaire Bob Packey and solo. The water was comically low, and I saw more raptors in the trees than anglers on the water. I felt like King of the Creek with nine on the first day. Then, the heavens opened up and it poured. Too much of a good thing, for the next day the creek was the color of tea and milk and loaded with leaves. That was my first blank on Erie tribs ever. I returned in December with my middle son, and seeing as you just read about that a few days ago, I won’t make you do it again. Unless you want to, and in that case you can find it here. The point is: even when the fishing is at its worst, Erie tribs are frequently better than anywhere else.

As with small streams, it would be safe to say that I am addicted to steelheading — although the steelheading affliction is probably far worse.

#6: Featured Fly Tier at the International Fly Tying Symposium. This was my third year doing IFTS, but my first as Featured Fly Tier. I went on after Bob Clouser (what a tremendously nice guy!) and I think I crushed it. The subject was “Matching the Hatch with Wet Flies,” and you can see me do it again at the Marlborough Fly Fishing Show next month on Friday, Jan 17 at 2:30pm.

In addition to being featured tier, I really enjoyed seeing so many old friends, and making new ones. Plus all the tying swag that’s available, some of which I bought. Plus the chance to watch and learn from the industry’s best. You can do the same at the Fly Fishing Shows this January — see you there!

#5: Speaking at the Shows and to Fly Fishing Clubs. It was a busy speaking season for me. I did my usual full boat of talks at the shows, but I also spoke to eight different groups this year, both in-person and via zoom. Speaking/teaching/presenting is a true love of mine, and I hope that if you’re in the audience, you see that in my delivery. If you’re in charge of booking speakers for your group, you know where to find me!

What a treat to make a return to the FRAA in January. I hadn’t been in a while, and I must say that holding the meetings at Brewery Legitimus is a most excellent idea.

Currentseams Best of 2024: #10-#8

It’s been a different kind of year around Currentseams headquarters, what with us moving into a new house in April, and then diving into the process of writing the Farmington River guide book. It was a difficult year for weather, and flows. Sometimes I felt like the energy was “Fishing? What’s that?” But, you persevere, and when you get out you tend to relish it even more. Here’s my annual list, presented in installment form, of my top 10 most memorable moments of 2024.

#10: Small Streams. Not actually a moment, but rather a series of outings across the seasons. Veteran readers of currentseams are quite familiar with my passion for thin blue lines. Fishing them was a bit of a challenge this year, mostly due to the horrific drought of late summer into fall. I haven’t been since October, but I’m generally confident that nature found a way. Please, if you like to fish small streams, respect, preserve and protect the resource. Sometimes nature needs little help, too. If you’re going to be at the Edison Fly Fishing Show next month, I’ll be giving a seminar on Small Streams on Friday the 24th at 10am.

Leaves and low water made for some challenging conditions this fall. I should be standing in water instead of stream bed. Always be sure that in low flows, the water is at non-stress temperatures.

#9: Smallmouth Season. It wasn’t the best year for smallies, but nor was it dreadful — and we have had some dreadful years in recent memory. The White Fly hatch was a good one, and while I didn’t consistently get into the bigger slobs, I had enough foot-plus fish to keep me happy. Then there was the solitude factor — priceless. One day, I invited fly tyer extraordinaire Lou DiGena up to fish. We started off in an area that has been completely unproductive for me the last two years. I was fishing one of Lou’s crayfish patterns under an indicator when I connected with my best smallmouth of the year.

A hunka hunka burning hot bronze.

#8: Photo sessions for the Farmington River book. I spent several days as both subject and shooter and I must say that I enjoyed both roles immensely. Many thanks to Steve Hogan, Derrick Kirkpatrick, Joey Takeman, Antoine Bissieux, Yannick Riviere, and Lou Digena for letting me shadow and shoot them. Special thanks to Matthew Vinick and Bob Lindquist for taking the time to shoot me. Thanks to the DEEP for letting me tag along for their September sampling. You’ll see it all in the book, and the best part is that I get to do it again this winter and spring.

A little selfie action on an August afternoon.

But first, a new article in Surfcaster’s Journal

Hot off the e-presses comes issue 86 of Surfcaster’s Journal. Within, you’ll find the latest from yours truly. It’s about a big striper I landed this year and the skill? — or luck? — maybe both? — that went into it from hook to landing. Surfcaster’s Journal is an e-zine that is worthy of your support. It’s only 20 bucks a year, and for that you get to read stuff written by some of the best striper anglers on the east coast. You can subscribe here.

The article is called “Fishing at the Intersection of Lucky and Good.” I think it’s one of the better things I’ve written.

Blood Dot Egg featured in On The Water’s Guide Flies Column

Ok, so it’s not my pattern — it’s Jeff Blood’s pattern. But the Blood Dot Egg is a classic guide fly, and I was delighted to share it with the readers of On The Water magazine‘s “Guide Flies” column, written by Tony Lolli. (Thanks again, Tony, for letting me play!) This is the single best egg pattern out there, and it’s so ridiculously easy to tie that you won’t fret when you sacrifice one or three or a dozen to the bottom gods. Steelhead season is upon us. Now, if we can only get some rain.

Is it too early to start thinking about steelhead? Here’s a fantastic egg pattern to get you in the mood.

Shorter days, longer nights, cooler weather…I’m definitely in the mood, baby! We do need some rain, but as you read this, Great Lakes Steelhead are staging at the mouths of rivers and creeks. I think this thought train all started when I saw that Jeff Blood was going to be one of the tyers at the International Fly Tying Symposium (you’re going right?) on November 16-17. Jeff’s Blood Dot Egg has been my new favorite egg pattern since steelhead guide extraordinaire Bob Packey introduced me to it three years ago. It works on both Erie and Ontario steelhead (not to mention trout in CT). I’ll stand by the title of the article linked here: The best egg pattern for steelhead might be Jeff Blood’s Blood Dot.

Give that man (Jeff Blood) a ceegar! This is a Salmon River fish from last November taken on Jeff’s fly.

You have questions about Block Island. I have answers.

I get a lot of questions about Block Island this time of year. As always, I’m happy to answer them (unless you want to know my secret spots, which I won’t even tell my mother). For general information, here’s a piece I wrote several years ago. It still stands up today. It’s called “Block Island Stripers From The Shore.”

Not Block, but it could be….

From the Archives: Soft Hackles and Wet Flies on The Orvis Podcast with Tom Rosenbauer

This one’s only about a year old, but in case you missed it, it’s certainly a must-listen — especially if you like to swing wets, if you’re considering learning how to do so, or even if you need a refresher course. Here’s the link to the original post, and within that you’ll find a link to the podcast. Enjoy, and beware: you’re about to start catching more fish.

You should be fishing this pattern, the Dark Hendrickson winged wet, right now.