|
Written by Bob Ellsberg
|
|
Wednesday, 01 June 2011 00:00 |
|
After a month of copious reading, watching instructional videos and practicing in the yard, I decided it was time to try out my Spey casting technique for real. I loaded up my top of the line, Loomis 12-foot Spey rod (so new it still had the sticker on the handle!) and used the sunny afternoon to enjoy the beach and cast into the surf for the big perch that run in the spring. Fresh fish for Easter dinner!
The big pink-fin perch can run better than three pounds, fight really well, and are wonderful eating. In spring they come to shore in big schools to fatten up, getting ready for spawning. With luck, you can get all the action you can handle. I hadn’t been out fishing for a while and with a break in the weather, there was a chance to practice casting and maybe even get a little action in the process.
The clammers were just leaving the beach when I arrived. Hopefully, all their digging got a lot of chum into the water. The tide was starting to come in, and maybe a school of pink fins would flood in with it. Searching the beach for a deep blue hole near a sand bar, I found some promising water, parked the truck and waded out.
I knew I’d have to get a cast out quite a ways, so I hiked out as far as my courage and common sense would allow, about waist deep in the surf. Stripping out a couple dozen yards of line, I tried my “anchor and swing technique.” Trying to get through the gale, jump into the waves, pull my heavy perch fly out of the crashing water, and cast for distance and accuracy proved way more than I could manage. It made peeing into the wind look graceful!
The whole procedure looked easy on the videos I watched and worked passably well on the front lawn, but out in the world of wind and waves, things got pretty hairy.
The first few casts fell in a heap of line about 15 feet in front of me. I adjusted my “anchor” (insider term us Spey experts use!) and managed to send the fly whizzing over my ear. You really aren’t supposed to have your hook behind you at all, but mine kept disappearing in the foam, and coming up from unexpected locations. I gave it another shot and managed to plant my fly into the back of my fancy Filson vest. Naturally, it wasn’t a spot that I could reach while bouncing in the waves, so I had to back out to the dry sand, take off the vest and work the fly out. (Hard to do while looking cool.)
Upon remounting the surf, I stuck the next cast into my waders. (They now leak around the belly button.) Finally, I darn near drowned when I ducked to avoid a back cast I sent bombing at my nose. Getting out of the nasty barb’s “flight pattern,” I took my eyes off the waves and caught a bucket full of salt water up my nose.
Trying to act like my gear was messing up, I slinked back to the truck, took out my regular surf spinning outfit, and rejoined the anglers plying the waves. An hour later I’d caught three crabs and two ugly bullheads. I would have been really bummed out, but nobody else caught anything.
As I was packing up the gear, a couple of guys walked over to ask how the Spey casting had gone. “Well, I would have had better luck with a broader selection of flies,” I replied sagely, trying to keep a straight face. After all, I was the only angler with the “skill” to take the big rod out into the Pacific!
The guys nodded in sympathy and went back to the empty ocean. Next time I’ll wear a helmet! And maybe beg some of the guys in my fly club to give me a few lessons.
Bob Ellsberg’s column, Fishin’, appears monthly in RV Life and at rvlife.com.
Trackback(0)
 |
TrackBack URI for this entry
Subscribe to this comment's feed
We used to cast for redtailed perch off rocks near Yachats, Oregon. It always seemed relatively easy compared to surf fishing, since we didn't have to cast as far; the water near rocks was plenty deep enough and the incoming tide tore food off the rocks, drawing in the perch. A spey rod would still pose difficulties there though, because of the wave action on the line. One's timing would have to be impeccable.
But shorter casts are necessary, so a standard flyrod would likely suffice. And I would think such an adventure would be a blast - a 6 weight rod against red tail perch. Bait would likely be too heavy to properly cast, but I always wanted to try it with one of those flies that imitate a crab, and that they use for bonefish, etc.
The issue with rock casting is you have to keep your wits about you and do a lot of dancing to avoid being washed off the rock or getting soaked. But, hey, at our age we need the excercise.