Category Archives: Fishing Reports

Under Cover of the Night

Drew from the new spot well last night. Every day is different, so they say, and last night we had consistent action for the first hour of the mid-tide drop. Then came a lull. In hopes of attracting something bigger, I fished an 8″ flatwing/soft-hackle, a September Night variant. While it did keep the dinks away, all I could manage were cookie-cutters in the 18-24″ range. The fish-on-the-reel eludes me. The takes were similar to yesterday’s, a sensation of building pressure on the greased line swing or the dangle. A thrusting hook set, and you’re on.

Bob wanted to stick the tide out a little more, but I had wanderlust. We both made the wrong call. Bob had a couple more nondescript fish, and I drew a blank. Stayed out much later than I wanted to, especially with no action, and finally dragged into bed at 3:30am.

But, she’s coming. I can feel it.

After a slow start, the bassing has picked up. So far, I’d give this spring one striper thumbs up.

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Night Tides

And so we mark the official beginning of the year’s Zero-Dark-Thirty adventures. We kicked off 2014 with something a little different; instead of our usual haunts, we rolled the dice at a new location and were rewarded with fairly consistent action. Most of the fish were in the 20″ class, but there were a few that stretched the tape to 24″. And one big momma.

Dr. Griswold with the best fish of the night, first cast into a new hole. I have yet to put a fish on the reel this year. Soon, Steven. Soon.

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Day-Night Doubleheader

Game One: Team Cohiba Rides Again

Back when we used to get up early and go on Opening Day proper — we’re talking decades worth or fishing here —  there was a guy who would always fish the same pool on the Salmon River as my father and I. Because of our omnipresent cigars, he dubbed us “Team Cohiba.” A few years back, dad and I had an epiphany. Why get up at 4am and battle crowds and cold if we’re going to release the fish anyway? Thus was born the new Culton tradition of fishing the Friday before Opening Day. We start at the rather civilized hour of 10am. Cigars will be lit. Trout are plentiful.  Yahoos are few and far between.

I’ve been fishing with dad now on the the third Saturday in April — or the Friday before —  every year since 1971. Okay. There was that one time in the 80s when he had to go to a wedding and I flew solo, but other than that it’s been a tradition as reliable as the firmness of the earth. And so we went forth on the 18th of April to match wits (or lack thereof) with dumb hatchery trout.

Me and he who taught me. His name is Paul Culton, and I watched him like a hawk when I was a kid because some day I wanted to be as good an angler as he was. Thanks for taking me fishing, dad.

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The Salmon was down to 490cfs, a good height after all of last week’s rain, running cold at 44 degrees. Some years we get a good caddis hatch. On this day it was a few measly midges. The Woolly Bugger hatch was outstanding, though, and browns, rainbows, and even a tiger trout found my olive and white offerings to their liking.

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Game Two: You can’t catch stripers on the surface in 44 degree water (except when you can).

Traditionalist. Creature of habit. Call me what you will, but I’ve been going striper fishing on Good Friday for years. What better way to honor Simon Peter, who, as you may know, was a professional angler before he became a Saint.

Today, the answer was yes. I expected the water to be high and a little off-color, so I tied up an opaque (by my standards) fly made of fluorescent white, fluorescent yellow, fluorescent chartreuse, and light blue bucktail, along with a chartreuse marabou collar. Think the stripers will be able to see that? Saints be praised, they attacked it with gusto. The fishing was so good, I decided to tap into my inner iconoclast. If I can catch a bazillion dumb schoolies on a floating line with a four-foot sinking T-11 sinking head, why can’t I catch them on the surface? Water only twelve degrees above freezing? Hah! Off came the T-11 head. On went the white Gurlger. Second cast, a spirited follow. Third cast, BAM!

I took over a dozen fish on the Gurgler, and had dozens more cartwheel hysterically at the fly. We soon discovered that simply dapping a standard-issue bucktail on the surface 20 feet in front of you was enough to draw follows, boils, and strikes. As they say in the UK, tremendous sport.

The last fish of the day came on the Gurlger. I was cold. I was tired. I had striper thumb. But I fished with my dad, reconnected with some old friends, and had more fun that any guy wearing baggy waterproof pants has a right to.

It was a good, Good Friday.

There’s cold in them thar hills

You get a day like today and it’s easy to think that finally, winter is over. But last week when Grady Allen — owner of UpCountry Sportfishing — and I ventured over the hills and far away, there were constant reminders that winter’s grip can be tenacious.

We fished River X in the Berkshires. I had never been before, and the first thing I noticed on the drive up was that there was still white stuff on the ground. The banks of the river were a patchwork of earth, snow, and ice. Frozen shelves still extended from the shore, and while clear, the water was high from runoff. Even more telling, its temperature was a bracing 34 degrees. In April. Not so good for the fishing. Grady took one lonely brookie on an ICU Sculpin, and your humble scribe wore the collar. Here are a few photos from our adventure.

“I’ll have a block of ice with my boulder, please.” Must have been some winter up here.

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Grady working an upstream seam. We only managed one cigar each this morning; we cut the trip short for lack of a bite. (I always like to fish with people I consider to be better anglers than me. That way, if we both blank, I don’t feel like such a loser.)

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Amidst the hoary streamscape, a green totem of spring.

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No. Not yet.

Just when Mother Nature gives you permission to believe the stripers might be there (peepers for several days now, first daffodil showing some yellow, temperatures actually in the low 60s) she slams the door with cruel finality. I mean, mean-like. See ya, sucker.

You know it’s bad when the all the spin guys leave before you do.

Here’s what I can tell you: bright, sunny day. Water with good visibility, albeit still well below normal (ten lashes for me for forgetting my thermometer) temperature. Wind honking in my face at 15 mph (with gusts up to 20) that made casting a large diameter floating line difficult. Not a touch for me or any of the other four guys who wisely packed it in before I did.

Everything is late this spring, and the stripers are no exception. April 10 is the farthest I’ve gone into April without a bass. But, there’s good news.  It’s got to start sometime.

It’s like the birds are saying, “Follow the arrows to find the stripers.” If it were only that easy.

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Farmington River report 3/21/14: It didn’t feel like spring

A sunny day  in late March can be misleading. On Friday, any warmth generated by the sun was fleeting, captured and quickly dispatched by a chilly, gusting wind. The water was only 34 degrees, well below normal for this time of year, lightly stained, and running at 450cfs in the upper TMA. There’s still plenty of snow on the ground that has to melt and become part of the ocean; until that happens, expect cold water.

So, to the fishing. Well, it was what we in the trade call a slow day. Even the guys I spoke to who were fishing shiners were having a tough go of it. I jumped around the river, dedicated to the streamer cause, and the only trout I managed came by accident. I was messing around with the streamer, an articulated white and chartreuse bunny/bugger thing, to see how it looked in the water. Right in front of me, about ten feet away, and this brown rose from the depths and stomped it. Rather lucky than good, but we’ll take it.

Cased caddis everywhere in the last spot I fished. I’m still amazed that a little wormy thing can build a house out of sticks. Please appreciate this photo. My hands and forearms were still cold about a half hour after I took it.

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An occupant. Sorry, little guy, for putting you out on the street. 

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I shoulda gone nymphing

A Farmington River mini-report for 3/11/14: a glorious dose of spring after a hellacious winter. Sunny, 50+ degrees, water running crystal clear and 35 degrees. The Upper TMA was packed for a weekday in early March. The trout seemed fairly cooperative; most anglers I spoke with who were nymphing got into fish, like currentseams follower John Jascot who landed this fine holdover brown:

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I had my heart set on dredging up a big ‘ole brown on a streamer, but ’twas not to be. Hard to be sad about a skunking when you’re enjoying an El Rey Del Mundo Flor de Llaneza on a sunny Tuesday.

One is the loneliest number (but it beats the tar out of zero).

Nymphed the Farmington River today from 11:30am to 1pm. Water in the upper TMA was an average height, clear, and 34 degrees. It was a slow day for most of the anglers I spoke with. Saw very little evidence of hatch activity (save for a solitary charcoal grey midge). I managed a fine holdover brown, but even that was by accident; I was moving a few steps downstream to a new position when the indicator went under. And there he was on my size 18 BH soft-hackle pheasant tail.

Someone’s been eating this winter. I like the bead peeking out of the corner of the mouth, hook right where it’s supposed to be. Note the odd indentation on the upper flank, just below the dorsal. There was no sign of a wound, and the fish appeared to be healthy.

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I headed upstream to try some different water, but had no takers on my cased caddis or PT. Of course, there was that double-hooked stick, but since those are out of season I had to let it go. Most regrettable.

Switched over to streamers in some deeper water with an integrated full sink head. The past couple winters I’ve been trying to fish streamers more than I usually do, and today I was trying out a prototype cone head white bunny flashy thing. Nothing, nothing, nothing, THUD! It was a good fish that ran deep, then suddenly decided not to play. I knew he wasn’t coming back, but I gave the pool a few more casts before duties elsewhere called. Off the water at 2:10pm.

But, Mr. Slob Trout, I know where you live. And I’m coming back tomorrow.

2/4/14 Farmington River Report: Sunny with a chance of trout

Today was going to be the warmest day of the week. I had to go to UpCountry to pick up my new vise. Chance of a couple hours of fishing, 100%.

Of course, I wasn’t the only person who thought it would be a fine afternoon to fish the Upper TMA. Spots A and B were on lockdown, so I settled for C. And C it was on the old grade point scale, with the guy in spot A bailing trout, the guy in spot B catching a few less, and me coming in with a rock-solid average. Still, hard to complain about fishing on a weekday when the sun is out and there’s only a little ice in your guides. Especially after I lengthened my leader and added another BB shot to adjust for the depth of the water. I indicator nymphed with a size 18 (2x short) soft-hackle BHPT on point and a size 16 (2x short) BH Squirrel and Ginger as top dropper. They liked the S&G. Best fish of the day was a some-teen inch Survivor Strain brown with riveting black spots and fins the size of a barn door.

Didn’t see any bugs. Water temp was 35 degrees. Air temp just under freezing. Flows about 350-400.

A failed attempt at an art shot. But I like the effect of the water, the sunlight, and the spotting in the upper left. This was the Survivor Strain brown. I couldn’t distinguish an elastomer, but the adipose fin was clearly clipped.

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After getting locked out of my first two chosen spots, I headed to a third. Crapass. This guy was fishing right where I would have been swinging streamers. So I figured I might as well get a good photo out of it.

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Farmington River report 1/17/14

Today was a pretty darn nice day for January, and there was no shortage of anglers taking advantage of the last of the thaw. Plenty of vehicles in Greenwoods, Woodshop, along Church Pool, and in the lot. The upper TMA was running about 550cfs, clear, and in the low thirties. High air temp was low forties (no ice on the guides — huzzah!), abundant sunshine, and a good southerly breeze that kept most of the dry fly anglers away. Not much to write about in the way of hatch activity. I nymphed from 11:30am to 1:00pm under an indicator, and the trout preferred the smaller of my two flies, a size 22 (really an 18, 2x short) soft-hackled BHPT. Always a happy moment, landing your first Farmington River brown of the year — or for that matter, landing a trout in January. An angler below me  also did well on small nymphs. Switched over to streamers and ventured to some different water, but could find no takers, though I did speak to another angler (Colin — pleased to meet you) who told me he had gotten into two trout on streamers. The cold is coming, so get out while you can.

Remnants from the last ice age — about two weeks ago.

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