Some of your most memorable moments fly fishing?

[Bill Kiene semi-retired]

Describe a moment in your fly fishing life where you hooked a fish that was one of those memorable situations that you will never forget, whether you landed it or not.


I can think of dozens of them so I guess I have been very lucky.

Most are some time ago but they feel like just yesterday.

__________________________________________________ _________________________

A group of us went to Hat Creek in Nor Cal on the opener in the 1970s.

I was raining and hailing on Sunday and we were down in the bend just above the Carbon Bridge below the Power House #2 in the wild trout stretch.

In those days the creek was so deep you could only edge wade much of it.

About 6 nice wild Rainbow trout were eating bugs on the surface all the way across on the other bank just on this side of a lot of brush on the other bank.

I had my FF805 Fenwick with a Hardy Princess reel that I was casting as far as I could then shaking out lots of line to get a down stream dead drift over those fish.

I made about a dozen tries and then finally one of them eat my "little Bob Quigley tied size 18 BWO loop-wing quill body para-dun" on 7x Cortland Nylorfi tippet material.

That was one of the hottest about 16 inch Rainbows I have ever hooked. It fought like a fresh Klamath River Half-pounder. It jumped and ran all over and when it turned down stream for a big run my reel handle caught in the cuff on my rain jacket and broke me off.


I will never forget that moment in my fly fishing life and hope we all have moments like that in our futures.

[k.hanley]

Very cool Bill. Thanks.

One of mine would have to be about 12 years ago, while working a school of feeding coho, along Baranof Island. I had set up our skiff for another drift down the outer kelp edge. My partner hooks into a red hot silver rocket. At the same time behind us I hear “spoooshhh.”

I spin around to see the dorsal fin about 25 yards away and yell “ORCA!!!!!” My buddy is still tight to the coho.

I begin backing the skiff out from the kelpline.

The orca makes a beeline right next to the slot we came out of. Coho are flying everywhere! The Orca has just fed on a salmon from the same school we were working. We still have the fish hooked up.

I settle the skiff down. It slides to a stop about 50 yards from the kelp. We hear a softer “spoosh” and the Orca has circled out about another 50 yards behind us.

We’re laughing, shaking, pumped, and amazed. Things look pretty settled down for the moment. We land our fish. Let it go. Motor back to the kelpline and start the game over.

We were able to “tag team” that school of salmon for the next ½ hour with the Orca. One of the most stunning sessions I’ve ever had.
Cheers, Ken

[Tony Buzolich]

My good friend, Jim May, and I had been fishing for baby tarpon in the Isla Blanca area north of Cancun without much luck. We decided to get deeper into the jungle and entered the Manatee River lagoon area. Our guide promised us that there would be plenty of tarpon here but we had to be careful as there were lots of saltwater crocs here too.

We see fish rising and as promised Jim hooks up right away and gets our first tarpon into the boat. I'm up next and the same senario unfolds. One or two casts, I hook up, and I'm playing the fish to the boat. With all the splashing and jumping going on we had caught the attention of a fair sized croc that came charging right for the boat after my tarpon. As we're trying to get the fish safely in the croc swims under the panga, comes up on the other side and grabs my tarpon. The rest of the story is just a matter of holding on until the croc gets tired and lets go. Whew! No wading around here.

http://i22.photobucket.com/albums/b320/buzolich/P1010006.jpg

http://i22.photobucket.com/albums/b320/buzolich/P1010008.jpg

[thekid]

Came across a old article from a LOW BUDGET magazine I used to throw together with stories told by our group of anglers. January 1997 edition. Spelling was pretty bad at age 13 and still is. I will write it how I did back then.

"Memorial day"

On Memorial Day 1996 my family went up to humbug valley with a friend of mine. We arrived around 6:00pm and set up camp. The water was high and kind of merky. I decided to throw out a few cast anyway. When my friend "Enrique" and I got down to the water we saw lots of bugs, mostly green drakes. I strung up my rod and tied one on. I fished every pool and had no luck, so on the way back I tied on DARTH VADER and let Enrique fish it on the way back to camp. When we got back everyone asked what did you catch? Are answer was "NO" Every one started yelling "Skunked", but I had been skunked before so I could take it. The next morning we got up early and went upstream. DARTH was still on so I kept him on. We got to a good pool and I began to bounce DARTH around and droping him in other little pockets. I stopped at the top of the run on my bank and droped DARTH in and bounced it as it went down the slow current, and through all the weeds. All of the sudden my line stopped, and I lifted up, line came screaming off my reel, and the fish was everywhere. I looked downstream and saw a nice gravel bar on are side. I walked the fish down there and draged him up on the bank. Enrique was shocked and said "thats the biggest fish I have ever seen! I walked down and took the hook out. We made a mark on the fly rod where the fishs tail was. I let Enrique let the fish go and he was pumped! We walked back to camp and brought out the tape measure. The fish went 21 inches.

the kid.

[Hairstacker]

I was alone out on the Delta in my inflatable kayak a couple years ago on a warm September evening. It was at dusk and the wind had completely died, causing the water ahead of me over the shallow weedy flat to look like mirrored glass. I tossed a size 2 red/white Tap's Bug (deer hair popper) about 30' ahead of me and let it sit there on the water surface as the rings around it expanded and began to settle down.

I then gave the bass bug a good pop(!), causing a mild disturbance on the water surface. The bass charged it with explosive speed from about 6' away, forming a v-wake on the surface before crashing into it. The big fish went down and then airborne, spraying water in all directions across the previously glassy surface. It then ran away from the boat with more strength and energy than I'd ever felt before in a largemouth and the kayak started to move. I lowered the rod and conceded the fish a little line as I felt for the first time ever that my 15.5 lb tippet was at risk. I could tell this was going to be a great fish. As usual with bass, the fight was over very quickly and I had the fish, engulfed in a handful of weeds, right at the side of the kayak.

As I looked down at her, I could tell she was very big but I couldn't quite see how big. I reached down and just as I opened my hand to grab her thick lower lip, she gave one last shake and was gone. I am still haunted by that fish.

[Rick J]

tough to chose just one but seeing my brother hook up to his first permit on a fly rod has to be up there! Fish probably screamed off 200 yards of backing!!

But my first trip to the N Umpqua sure stands out - I had no idea what I was doing. I had just built a Fenwick Gold blank 9.5' for a 9 I bought from Larry Simpson at Time Flies but I soon realized I was at a loss up here and I drove way upriver and pulled out a little 6 wt with a muddler and proceeded to fish for trout. I cast over a log and the line hooked up and the muddler started skating fast across the surface. A steelhead, around 7 #, slammed it and proceeded to cartwheel downriver before quickly breaking my trout tippet. I was shaking for at least an hour afterwards and I swore I would keep coming back to this awesome river!!

[GreggH]

Last friday I was fishing for stripers in the bay and reached down to release a schoolie when a Harbor Seal streaked in for the kill from directly under my boat. I shat myself. :(

[Langenbeck]

My best night ever was in July 2006 on Lake Rotoiti New Zealand near Rotorua in the North Island. In the dark of the moon hooked ten rainbows and landed six of 8#,9#, 10#,10#10# and 11#s all on lumo smelt flies. Below is the 11 pound fish. All released.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/1003/gordonl/NZ11RainbowfromRotoitiTwo.jpg

[Mike Churchill]

Late April of 2008 and I was just a few months into a rapidly growing semi-obsession with stripers. I had a day off between leaving one job and starting another, and my parents came up from San Diego to visit for a week. I met them at the gas station at the Thornton Road off ramp from I-5 around 8:30; my dad jumped into my SUV and my mom drove on to Sacramento. Dad and I drove over to Wimpy's and launched my 12-foot Gregor. Beautiful sunny spring day.

A couple of hours later we were fishing across from Giusti's restaurant and drifting downstream with the tide. I was throwing a 2/0 flashtail clouser on an 8-wt TFO with a T-11 Rio Custom Tip. On one drift through the deep hole, I picked up a fiesty schoolie. On the next, I about a 6-pound striper at the edge of the deep hole there. On the third, as my fly got about 20 feet from the boat, I felt a huge tug and saw a huge white flash as a striper turned a few feet under the surface and dove for the bottom.

I'd been fishing for trout and panfish since I could hold a fishing rod, but I had never hooked anything as powerful as that fish. It dove for the bottom nearly 30 feet down and stubbornly refused to come up. I was fishing with 20-lb tippet and doing my best to put the wood (graphite?) to it, but every time I gained more than 10 feet of line, it turned and ran back for the bottom. This went on for 10 minutes or so with my rod bent 90 degrees and the line pointing nearly straight down while we drifted down the North Moke with the tide. Finally, past the road bridge and about 100 yards from where we started, I was able to get the fish to the surface and my dad got the net around it. (Brand new striper-sized net too. Damn glad I had just bought it.)

The fish was approximately 28". Never having caught a striper that big, I posted a photo here and asked the experienced to tell me how heavy the fish was. The consensus was around 12 pounds if I remember right.

So I'm absolutely hooked on stripers. I haven't caught another double digit fish yet, but I can't wait. My dad had never fished for stripers before, and now he's hooked too. My parents moved up here that fall and my dad bought a bigger boat so we can chase them in comfort. That first "big" one was special because I caught it with my dad and and we both laughed throughout the fight as I cursed in amazement at the strength of the fish.

[dpentoney]

Wow...crocodiles! With pictures! Everything else kinds of pales in comparison....

There was a time I was able to fish a hundred days a year, and there were lots of memorable fish. One day that I often reflect upon was a morning in late November in the mid-70s. My Dad and I were in a line-up of a dozen or fifteen flyfisherman down below the Mouth of the Van Duzen on the Eel River. It had been raining and the river had come up about a foot. There were lots of fish moving that morning, the fishing was good, my Dad and I each caught and released six or eight good fish. It was especially good as being late in the season we took a mix of fish, big and small kings, silvers, and steelhead.

It was clearing up after raining during the night. A large black cloud was hanging over Grizzly Bluff, in front of us. Just as the sun was coming up over the hills to the East, my Dad and I each hooked big fish. As we stood in the water fifteen feet apart enjoying our double hookup, the sun shining on the black cloud made an intense and complete double rainbow over us.

I miss my Dad a lot, and the times we used to have. And I really miss those fish.....

[Fats]

I guess it would have to be my first bonefish down in the Florida Keys... I'd moved down to Marathon to see if I could figure out what I wanted to do after college. Part of the plan was to figure out how to catch bonefish and tarpon on a fly rod. It was a long summer working my tail off trying to figure it out on my own. My buddy had a 16' bonefish skiff and that was an experience figuring out how to pole, what flats to fish, tides, wind etc.

My friends were also fishing for bones so I didn't have to many chances to blow before I'd have a pair of shrimp tails flying out from amide ships when I'd blown a chance.

About 2/3 of the way through my summer... it finally all came together and I hooked up with a fish that tipped the scales around 9 pounds! It was such a rush and a feeling of accomplishment because it was entirely DIY. Self taught lessons have many advantages, but quality of instruction isn't one of them. Still... very memorable and probably the most satisfying fish I've ever caught, seconded only by my first steelhead.

[lynnwhite44]

I was fishing with 2 fishing buddies below the Osborne Bridge on the Henry's Fork at Wood Road. I had a a grand hopper on with a small green caddis pupa dropper 20 inches off the bend of the hopper hook. I spotted a nice lunker feeding 2 feet off shore. So I positioned myself 10 feet above the feeding fish and 10 feet off shore. I casted to this fish for about 10 minutes when it finally took the dropper. I had a death grip on the fly line and immediately broke it off, I yelled in disappointment. My 2 firends who were fishing 20 feet down stream of me asked what was wrong. I said "I just broke off a monster". Just then a Rainbow flew out of the water between me and my buddies. I said "that's probably my fish". Mike said "it is, I can see the hopper trailing behind". It jumped several more times as we watched in amazement. 45 mutes later, we are telling my other friend Dave Faltings my story of the jumping fish. We are all looking over the river from above about 5 yards away when all of the sudden the same fish comes flying out of the water with the grand hopper still trailing behind.

So if any of you catch a 20+" fish on Henry's Fork below Osborne Bridge with a caddis hook in the it's mouth and a trailing grand hopper, those are my flies

[Darian]

Among the many experienced over the years, I recall one trip that still gets my juices flowing for coastal Steelhead fishing. :unibrow:

It was the last day of open season in February '72 and I was fishing on San Gregorio Creek (a tiny stream with a very small estuary). It was rainy/windy and in combination with a high tide, the swells were running into the estuary. Some people were watching from the bridge but I had the water to myself. =P~

Water was a dirty green from the tidal push but definitely fishable. I had a multiple colored fly (Flourescent charteuse/orange, size 8) on and was using a full sinking fly line. Retrieves in estuaries this small should be slow. So, I used a hand twist. :neutral:

On that day (approximately 4 hours was all I could take of that weather), I landed 4 Steelhead. The largest was a bright fish of approximately 11 pounds and was spent. :eek: All of the fish were released unharmed. Now, this is not the largest number or largest fish I've ever taken but the setting, conditions and that spent fish from such a tiny creek made it an amazing day.... 8)

[Jeff C.]

One evening about 10 years ago, I was fishing for brookies at a beaver pond up in the Sierras. I was the only one there in this huge alpine meadow and there was a caddis hatch so thick that it was like a fog. It was surreal and the brookies were dancing on their tails for them.

[Dan Harrison]

Wow great question, hands down top water mouse on my unguided trip on the goodnews river Alaska. Caught tons of salmon and bows but I came upon a nice slow side channel that looked really fishy. I threw on my top water mouse tube fly that I had tied up and cast it to some slow water moving by some overhanging weeds. Now I have only heard of the rumor of the top water mouse. So wow, what a heart thumper when a 24" rainbow explodes on it after one twitch. Caught many more but it only worked in that one side channel, the first one i will never forget.

[huntindog]

I had a day on the Smith in Montana that was absolutely nuts. It was raining and windy in the middle of summer and fish were destroying anything that hit the water. I was with my dad and my brother and we were always hooked up. We were soaked to the bone but there was no way in hell we were quitting. Great memory.

Had a similar day this year on the sac at the Posse grounds. Walked out to the shelf for a couple hours of fishing and it went totally off during a big rainstorm.

[flyfishinwoman]

I lost my son in a motorcycle accident Feb 5, 04. He was 21. A senseless waste. I was in such agony. I don't think I had smiled for months afterward. I was asked if I wanted to go with 4 of my first-time instructors to Mt. Lassen Trout. An overnight trip (staying in Red Bluff). I wasn't so sure I could do it...but I went.

It was my day. I had the right fly, the right position, the right everything. The first fish I caught, I named Troutzilla. A guestimate of about 20lbs...on a 6 wt rod. (yes, I have a picture and witnesses). The fish got into my backing while running out to the far side of the island. I have never stripped line in so fast in my life. I had a HUGE macrame project at my feet when I picked the beast up for the picture. It was the first time I had smiled since Feb 5.

To this day, I thank my instructors/guides for turning my life around. I didn't know how healing it would be. Now, when I hurt, I head for the water. I know a lot of people that do. I understand.

[Bill Kiene semi-retired]

Life can be almost too much at times but thank God for the outdoors which seem to heal our wounds.

I lost my oldest daughter Koren in her thirties unexpectedly from diabetes so I know how bad it can get.

Time does help it get better too.

[huntindog]

Yes indeed Bill, My wife was diagnosed with leukemia a couple days after my son was born....she died a year later. Through it all fishing has always allowed me to escape, even if it was for brief periods of time in a day. It is one of the reasons I will generally drop everything to take my boys fishing. Life is too short. I enjoy every minute with my kids, fishing is one of the most pure and organic ways to enjoy the outdoors and to connect with friends and family. Fishing will be a part of my life til the day I die, hopefully I pass that love on.

[thepeacockspecial]

my most memorable moment was when I hooked up my first mudsucker. At first, I thought I had snagged after I set the hook.. then I held my rod for a few seconds and then it just started slammin my rod. This guy took me around 7-10 minutes just to land... Since then, I miss hookin up with mudsuckers for a play time session. :(

[Frank Alessio]

That was a Great story... And well told ... Thank You

[DFrink]

I was 18 and it was a few months after my Dad passed away, I was fishing a small stream that we used to camp at. I caught a small Golden Trout, only my second one. The first one I caught at the same stream when I was younger with my Dad. I remember getting excited for a second and thinking that I had to run and show Dad. I realized he wasn't there, physically, but he was with me in spirit and it was the first time I was able to think about missing him with a smile on my face. Now when I fish I always feel like we connect again for a while. I can't wait until my baby boy can get out with me and I can get him into his own fish. It's a very special bond.

[wineslob]

Not fly fishing, but trolling in a one man raft with my daughter when she was 7 (she's now 12). It's a small lake, probably 20 acres or so, near Lindsey Lakes.
She would hold the spinning rod while I paddled us around the lake. We must have hooked 4-5 Brookies that were well over 5 lbs. The first one I saw strike the worm we were trolling, and it almost ripped the rod out of her hands. She recovered, but exclaimed "Dad, I can't lift the rod!"
By the time I reached around for the rod (she was sitting in the raft in front of me) the fish had broken off 5lb leader. This happened 3-4 more times. Even I couldn't control the fish we were hooking.
I'll never forget her saying, "Can we go in now? These fish are too big" :lol:

I went back out by myself, and got a couple 4 pounders, but none as big as the strikes when she was with me.


As far as fly fishing, probably the first time I fished the NF of the Feather about 1 1/2 miles below the bridge at Poe. It was deep water next to a cliff face that the river went under. I cast in a black stone fly about 3 ft below a strike indicator. The first fish took the indicator down so deep I lost sight of it. It then jumped out in the middle of the pool showing off the acrobatics Rainbows are known for. I probably fought that fish for 3-4 minutes as it ran around the large pool and tried to head for the fast water at the outlet of the pool, and back up to the small waterfall at the inlet.
When I finally landed it, I had a nice, fat 4 pounder in my net. It was the biggest trout I had ever caught with a fly rod at the time. I caught a few more, but none were as memorable as that first one.

[bonneville54]

There are some moments I wish I didn’t remember, moments that are strongly held in my psyche as a warning, I think, not to make the same mistake twice. I abide them.

But the pleasant memories, the ones that bring a smile to ones face, a twinkle in ones eye, or as some here have expressed, some small bit of joy to ones heart are the best. Often these memories are about the size or number of fish, but I think that’s less important than we realize. More often, these memories involve friendships and relationships, are of places and times because for many of us, fly fishing is contemplative…we feel more and think less with rod in hand.

My most recent memorable moment was just last year in the Yucatan. It was a time spent with close friends and family, incredible conversation, beautiful surroundings and lastly, great fishing.

But the part of this trip that I remember most (fly rod in hand) was the silence. One day, through luck and circumstance, we were on the water a little before 6:00 am, the Yucatan sunrise moments away. We had motored to a cove or inlet, the “boca” of one of the hundreds of rivers that enter the sea along this stretch of coast. The guide shut off the motor and we looked for tailing juvenile Sabalo. The jungle that morning was eerily silent, birds and animals still asleep, I like to think.

Perhaps it’s a story of anticipation and silence, but it’s the silence I remember most.

The classical pianist Alfred Brendel once told an New Yorker interviewer, “ I like the fact that ‘listen’ is an anagram of ‘silent’. Silence is not something that is there before the music begins and after it stops. It is the essence of music itself, the vital possible ingredient that makes it possible for the music to exist at all. It is wonderful when the audience is part of this productive silence.” He was speaking, of course, of classical piano concerts, but he could have been talking of the anticipation of a fish. Some of the best moments with rod in hand come when you are not fishing: streamside or water side moments. You stop, the boat stops, kill the engine and all is still.

I’ve been on the Yuba at sunrise or sunset when the noise of Highway 20 fades to nothing and the only thing you hear is the sound of water around your waders and your heartbeat. A few ducks fly by, a fish rises, then silence between it all.

Memorable times.

[Jgoding]

I have to put my top one fishing the Green River..... so many big fish everywhere. I remember watching a guy work a stretch of river casting a big dry fly. He wasn't wearing waders and it was kind of rocky. I don't know why, but he was constantly moving down the bank and casting. Since it was so rocky and I swear he was wearing flip flops, he kept looking down at his feet for his footing and I swear every time he was looking down I would watch a big old trout come up and inhale his fly. He missed 5 strikes that I don't even think he knew he had....

The moment I remember most was fishing the lower Sac about 2 years after that train spill. It was epic fishing but I remember we hit it when there was a large caddis hatch coming off mixed with october caddis as well. I remember looking upstream one evening and in the cloud of caddis fish were jumping continually out of the water after them and the whole stretch of river was just swarming with flies and fish. I remember seeing a fish rise in front of me so I plopped my big caddis immitation in front of it, the fish hit hard and my reel screamed for 2 seconds before it was gone..... I only remember losing that one because I had never had a fish take off so violently... never did see it but didn't really matter as the fishing was that good at the time losing one was quickly forgotten.

More recently was my first time out with Charlie Gonzales a couple years back. It was a little late in the year but we figured we try for some striper and steelhead. We anchored for a bit casting for steelies but down river we noticed some surface activity going on in a deeper slower section so after a bit we made our way down throwing for striper. We got to area where the bait was dimpling and I made a cast next to the bank over a weedbed. I was using a type 6 but with a floating fly so it was just under the surface and visible as I stripped in. About 10' from the bank I notice a big fish start to follow right behind my fly. My initial thoughts were man, that looks like a big ass carp or something as it looked brownish and had that classic triangular just solid as hell build of a big carp..... of course as it got closer it was pretty obvious it was a big striper. It followed the fly all the way to the boat but didn't hit... on a couple pauses he came up and almost looked like it was going to take but never did commit. It was pretty exciting though, about a 15lber we estimated and it sure got the blood flowing.

[Hairstacker]

Must say, I don't quite know how to characterize it but this thread is pretty special. Runs the gamut of emotions and captures a lot of what it means to fly fish and be out there. Some poignant, very sad moments too and I do wish those my very best for continued healing.

[RenoLipRipper]

Would have to be my wife's first fly fishing trip. I had won a trip to Hawaii for winning a sales contest. But instead of Hi. I asked the company if we could pick something else as we have been to Hi. many times. So they asked would would you like?

Came up with a week (seven days) all paid at June Lake, as at that time we were from So. Cali.. Included in the deal was four days guided with Sierra Drifters Guide service out of Mammoth area. We did one day on Crowley in the guides boat doing midge fishing, caught alot of fish, but very windy. Then we had a day on the Owens (lower) in a drift boat, very fun and lots of fish, then we did a dry fly day on Upper Owens, and the was the best. The guide showed us a place on the Upper Owens that few go to, and a place were he goes when he wants to get away. Last day was tubing crowley and some more Upper Owens nymphing. The days we were not being guided we fished the usual places and hiked around to some back country lakes.

She really enjoyed it, and it was her first time fly fishing. But she seems to catch more and larger fish than I do. Could not believe it, everytime I looked over she had a fish on.

I had her take a intro. class and basic fly fishing class at Bob Marriot's in Fullerton before the trip as I felt this would get her going in the right direction. It worked.

[troutbm]

Owens river summer of 2008. I witnessed a 12 inch brown trout do something that literally blew my mind ! It made me question alot of things. On the far side bank there is anice undercut bank I was fishing towards the end of the run there is an overhanging bush. This trout would jump clear from the water, It jumped right through this overhanging bush, Right through the middle of it. As it did this it literally was knocking hundreds of small caddis into the water then it would just gorge on them. This brown trout did this several times within an hour. I never did catch it.
Clark fork river summer of 2009. This is when you know your are in the "zone". Fishing dry's End of drift fly goes behind rock out of site. I feel nothing, I see nothing. Something tells me to set, I do, Fish on. It was a great moment. I thought to myself, Ya know, Maybe you are finally there.

[CapitalFishr]

So many heart touching stories. There seems to be quite a bond between all us fishermen/women. There is just something almost undescribable about the experience of fishing in the great wilderness of ours. Thanks to all who have shared their moments.

I've had some great times alone catching fish in various places... and with friends alike. But fishing with my son has a special place for me. When he was around 6 or 7 we had one of "those days". A fishing adventure in the most innocent of places, neither really planned or expected. We were just taking the dog out at Folsom lake... back around Doton's point in late spring. I just so happened to bring the fly rod along lol. There's some huge granite rocks in that area and I decided to cast a few clousers for the heck of it. Well... I proceeded to catch schoolie spotted bass on every cast until we lost count. Nothing huge but fun none the less. He couldn't really cast... but had a ton of fun stripping them in by hand after I handed him the pole. I can still remember the look on his face. I really don't have an explanation to why there were so many in one small area... it was almost like catching crappie or something. For that one afternoon I was the lord of all guides and fishing tycoons in my son's eye. I distinction I have yet (but keep trying) to re-live. Just wait until I get him into Shad...