Category Archives: Fishing Reports

Farmington River Mini-Report 8/22/14: Wet and wild

I had two hours to fish on Friday afternoon, so I jumped on it. I bounced around the lower river, visiting a few spots that I hadn’t fished all year. The air had a fall-like feel; it was overcast, and the river was running at 417cfs and 66 degrees. Bug activity was sparse and sporadic: a few small caddis, midges, and BWOs. 

This was a dedicated-to-the-wet-fly-cause outing. I swung a team of a sz 12 hackled March Brown on top, a sz 14 Drowned Ant in the middle, and the old reliable sz 12 soft-hackled BHPT on point. (I like a tungsten bead head fly on point when the water is running higher than normal. With a few strategic mends, it sinks the team faster, and also expedites deeper short line dead drift presentations.)

The PT was the runaway favorite fly. I hooked a nice assortment of wild browns with a few JV salmon in the mix. I had some hideous luck as well: not once, but twice I lost a good fish when he went deep and one of the flies on my team got entangled on rocks or vegetation. I lost two-thrids of my rig on the last one and called it a day.

Fat, healthy, and ready to rumble, these wild Farmington River browns are a treat to catch. Many of the takes today were subtle; more of a building of pressure on the mended swing than a clobbering hit. Good stuff.

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A team of three wet (fly fishermen)

And so it came to pass that the Culton men went forth on a crisp, sunny August afternoon and swung wet flies on the Farmington River. Okay. So Gordon was fishing a soft-hackled streamer, and was using a spinning rod. The point is — well, if you’ve ever taken your kids, or any kids fishing, you already know.

Watch out for those trees on the backcast. Cam didn’t catch anything, but he did a more than capable job casting and presenting his soft-hackles. Another place and time and he could have been well into some trout. A fly addict is born.

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Gordo’s juvenile Atlantic salmon. Dad hooked it on a hackled March Brown spider, Gordon landed it with the ten-and-a-half-foot rod. “Can I hold it?” he wanted to know. You betcha. Just get your hands wet, and watch out. They like to jump.

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Farmington River Report 8/12/14: Before the rains came

It’s been a slow summer for me swinging wets on the Farmington. Until today.

They dropped the flow from the dam to 340cfs, placing the upper river at a near-ideal 375cfs, and the lower river at 400cfs. Water temp on the lower river at 2pm was 66 degrees, darn good for mid-August, and no doubt cooler still at the bottom.

I visited several locations today on both ends of the river and found plenty of trout willing to jump on the wet fly. I fished my usual three-fly team; today it was a size 12 Squirrel and Ginger top dropper, a size 14 Drowned Ant in the middle, and a size 12 soft-hackle BHPT on point. I caught trout on all three flies, and even had a Farmington River Grand Slam with at least one brown, brookie, rainbow, and Atlantic salmon in the mix. One of today’s salmon was approaching the double-digit inches mark. Salar the Leaper indeed.

A staggeringly beautiful wild Farmington brookie who took a Drowned Ant on a mended swing. This is one of the best fish I’ve ever landed on this river, a tremendous fighter worthy of your applause. Also note the classic contrasting colors of the fontinalis fin.

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With the lower flows, my focus was on exploring some treacherous snotty water that had been previously out of reach. I almost went swimming a few times, and I even breached my waders when I stepped into a chest-high hole. (Please use a wading staff when you’re wading swift or difficult sections.)

Very little in the way of hatch activity today, although the Cedar Waxwings were busy.

The big one — 20+ inches —  on a wet fly still eludes me this year. But with a bounty of wild browns like this one, I’m not complaining.

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Farmington River Report 8/6/14: Follow the Heinie Trail

It seemed stupid to spend close to two hours driving to fish for only seventy-five minutes. But I did it anyway.

I turned my attentions to a snotty section of the lower river. At 510 cfs it was a challenging wade. I didn’t bring my thermometer, but it felt about 65 degrees at index finger depth. Not bad for early afternoon on a sunny day in August.

This year, the wet fly fishing has been slower than usual for me. I think some of it has to do with the elevated flows. I probably should be doing more nymphing. At least the trout are happy. I fished size 12 Squirrel and Ginger on top dropper, a sz 12 Drowned Ant in the middle, and a size 12 soft-hackleBHPT (tungsten bead) on point. I had several raps from those pesky JV salmon; I landed one of them. What a tub of fish flesh. Almost perch-shaped. I dropped a brown who was hiding behind a rock with a dopey reaction hook set. The one brown that came to hand was wild and in the foot-long class. He was quite exuberant in his reluctance to come to net.

That one fish was just enough to cover my lack of good judgement.

Classy litterers only leave premium cans behind. This says, “I’m not just a rude, ill-bred person; I’m a rude, ill-bred person with exceptional taste.” 

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Someone enjoying a snack in the cool shade of the tree-lined riverbank.

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Farmington River Report 7/31/14: Saving the best for last

I have to confess there are times when I am completely flummoxed by this river and its residents. Like last night.

I arrived on the upper TMA at 5:45pm, committed to the dry fly cause, cane rod and 14-foot leader ready. Here’s what I was dealing with over the next couple hours: trout feeding on caddis emergers. Trout rising delicately to something very small. Trout slashing violently on the surface, breaking the film and leaving an air bubble. Trout taking sulphur and March Brown duns off the top. All of it rather haphazard, with no consistency to the rise forms or even with specific fish feeding. In one thirty second period, five fish would rise. Then nothing for the next fifteen minutes. Random would be a good word.

So I took a kitchen sink approach to fly selection. Small Magic Fly. Big Cahills. Small Cahills. Small caddis emergers. Small ants. All I had to show for it was a bunch of refusals and a JV Salmon on the Magic Fly. So I made a plan: as darkness fell, the trout would get sloppy. A size 12 Light Cahill would do the trick.

And that’s how I managed to cross paths with this handsome fellow, a wild brown in the high teens  who gave me a thrilling battle on the click-and-pawl South Bend:

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I stuck a few more of his friends even after it was too dark to see the fly. Then celebrated with a cheeseburger from Five Guys.

River notes: upper TMA 475 cfs. Golden stones (about a size 14) came out at nightfall. Water running cool and clear.

What about Bill?

You’ve read of the steelhead and striper adventures of Cam. Followed the woodland wanderings of Gordon.

So how come I never write anything about Bill?

Last week, Number One Son returned to his natal shores from the far away land of Miami. He had mentioned the F-word several times during his stay. And so it was that father and son found themselves on the Farmington River last Friday evening to catch the evening rise.

Catch? Here’s one: Bill had never fly fished a big river for trout. At least, Grady Allen assured me, he would have a good instructor. I replied that maybe we should get Fred Jeans.

Bill did great. In no time at all he was mending like he’d been doing it for years. I’d like to tell you that he caught a ridiculous number of fish, but it was one of those nights where hook sets were few and far between. He had the right fly (size 20 Light Cahill Catskill dry) and the right presentation — he had one low-teens brown make a good half dozen rises — but a soup-to-nuts complete transaction was not in the cards.

I, on the other hand, had lottery luck. As we were starting, I was greasing his leader, fly dangling in the current six feet below me, when I hooked a nice brown. I handed the rod to Bill, who managed to hand strip in his first trout on a dry. Well done, son. Dad managed a few more later on the Magic Fly, size 20.

We stayed till dark, then re-rigged for night patrol with streamers. No bumps in a half hour had our stomachs arguing with the fishing center of our brains. Cheeseburgers finally won.

My cigar that night was a My Father Le Bijou 1922 Belicoso Bill had given me for for Father’s Day. I was using my father’s old cane rod.

Sometimes it is fun, being a dad.

Bill at the controls, ready to stick that brown. Note the ski goggles filling in for polarized glasses. Marines adapt, overcome, improvise.

Bill Dry

 

Farmington River Report 7/21/14: Just the facts

Borrowed from L.A. Confidential (just finished watching it for the Xth time), whose writers borrowed it from Dragnet, so I might as well borrow it for a fishing report.

Where: Upper TMA, 476cfs, 58 degrees

When: 5:45pm-9:00pm

Hatches: Size 16 BWOs (fairly heavy). Size 14 sulphurs (a few). Size 10-12 March Browns (even fewer). Size 16 tan caddis (some). Size 18-20 summer stenos (fairly heavy).

Hello, old friend. I missed you. You’re here on July 21st right when you’re supposed to be. Summer stenos are the hatch I hate to love. I can’t think of another hatch that has caused me so much pain — and joy.

Summer Steno

Who: Ran into Steve Cook, a gentleman who took my wet fly tying course this winter. He did well, hooking trout after trout. We were also in the company of the illustrious Grady Allen, owner of UpCountry Sportfishing. Grady was there with his friend Ron. We shared the water with a half dozen other anglers, but we all had a generous amount of space to operate in, and no shortage of fish to present to.

Flies: Started with a size 16 Magic Fly, then switched to a 20. The 20 worked best. Ended the evening with the size 12 Light Cahill Catskill, until I couldn’t even see that.

Feeding: Weird. For the bulk of the evening I had no consistent risers in front of me. Most of the active fish from late afternoon to early evening were JV salmon. Most of the active fish were behind me, along a shallow bank, until dark, when the deep water switch got thrown. I took two nice browns, one a small wild fish, the other a low teens holdover, just by prospecting along the bank. All the other trout I hooked were actively feeding. The fish were mainly on emergers; I witnessed dozens of rises followed by an escaping mayfly that materialized from the disturbance. At dark it was spinner central, with dozens of backs visible as the trout porpoised.

Best fish: See below.

This is the biggest brown I’ve taken on a dry in a couple years — high teens long, thick, ham-like shoulders and a few pounds on her. She was feeding in about two feet of water ten feet off the bank. I’ve been trying to learn to play larger fish with the bamboo rod, the click-and-pawl reel, 6x tippet and small dries for years — losing plenty of bruisers in the process — and last night was the first time I felt like I wasn’t going to mess it up.

Big Brown on Magic Fly

 

 

 

 

Farmington River Report: Wet, dry, hot, cold

On Saturday I guided Randy and John from noon to evening. We spent the bulk of our time walking a long stretch of the upper TMA swinging wets. The fishing was great — we barely saw another soul (contrast to Church Pool, populated by a good dozen-and-half anglers when we drove over the bridge). The catching, not so much. Despite the cloud cover and the threat of precipitation, the BWO hatch never really got going. We pricked a few fish, and John lost a pig in a secluded side stem, but other than that it was a lot of casting and wading. That we had such a good time anyway is a testament to my two clients: they fished hard, they fished well, and they realized that some days the bear eats you.

John exploring the nooks and crannies of one of the Farmington’s many side stems.

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Randy working the seams, ready for a take that never came.

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On to Plan B: catch the evening rise. We found some lovely dry fly water at 5pm that we had all to ourselves. By 7pm it looked like we had been teleported to Church Pool. Where the heck did all those people come from? Our focus was on fishing wets like dries, particularly the Magic Fly. The bugs certainly cooperated: sulphurs (size 14 and 18), March Browns, 16-18 BWOs and some size 16 tan caddis. For two-and-a-half hours, it was JV salmon city. Then the trout came out to play. When our time wound up, John and Randy graciously shared the water with your humble scribe. I was fortunate to connect with four lovely wild browns, cookie cutter in their length (10-12″) and unique in their markings: one had an odd scarcity of spots; another was rainbow-like in the density of his spotting; yet another still had faint traces of parr marks. Exquisite.

~

Sunday night I ventured to a different spot to check out the summer steno situation. They did their part, but sadly the trout didn’t cooperate. I had fair enough action from about 5:45pm-7pm (size 16 sulphurs hatching). Past 7pm it was total shutdown, even during the magic hour of 8-9pm. The summer stenos were out in force, but the trout weren’t interested. Massive spinner fall at dark with nothing on it. Perhaps when the water warms and drops a bit more (last night 57 degrees and 516 cfs).

An abundance of spent mayflies on the surface Sunday night, but a strange lack of sippers.

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It’s sum, sum, summertime on the Farmington

Now that we’re well into July, the Farmington has settled nicely into its usual summer patterns. The fish are spread out, and we’ll start to see some of the bigger guns moving into the fast water. Terrestrials are a good bet in daylight hours, for prospecting, or during periods when there is no hatch activity. Nymphing deep pockets and fast water can be very rewarding. This is the time of year when I love to walk the river and lazily swing wet flies over fishily-looking lies, or drift them hard against the riverbank.

Current hatches include tiny BWOs, smaller sulphurs and other yellow/creamy bugs (16-20), the omnipresent tan caddis, and for those of us who enjoy fishing minuscule patterns that blend in perfectly with the river bottom, Needhami. In my experience, sparser is better with the Needhami — I use a fly that’s basically some fine thread on a 22-26 hook with a CDC puff wing. At the opposite end of the fly size spectrum, it’s a good time to crack open the hoppers box, or swing and strip big streamers after dark. (And let’s not forget the mouse patterns.) If you’re going the after dark route, be sure to stay off MDC property. They can and will ticket you.

Now, if I could only get out there.

A big ‘ole Farmington River summertime brown, taken on a March Brown hackled wet.

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Block Island Mini-Report: We’re back, baby

Just returned from a week on my favorite island, and I’m pleased to report that after three sub-standard years, the Block is back! The traditional Block Island Diary will of course be written, but until then here’s a snapshot of the action:

Seven nights (even Friday as Arthur scurried away)

One skunking (thanks, Arthur!)

One broken rod tip (stupid human error)

Two one-bass nights (one of the fish a 15-20 pounder)

Two under-a-dozen-bass nights

Two off-the-charts-dozens-of-bass nights.

Sand eels were the predominant bait, about 2-3″ long, and very fragile. Biolume in the water, which was 63 degrees. New moon to Q1. Fished both incoming and outgoing tides. Fished open ocean and the pond. Fished some new secret spots. Had more water to myself than I’ve ever experienced. A most excellent week.

The Yellow Kittens, Old Glory, and a Fourth of July rainbow.

Kittens Rainbow