Only a Prophet in Your Own Waters
For purely awesome movie moments it is hard to beat Charlton Heston. Seriously, Marky Mark did a remake of Planet of the Apes. Wahlberg had the benefit of CGI, superior special effects, and the super-HAWT Estella Warren. Heston had only his voice, “Take your stinking paws off me, you damned dirty ape!” I shouldn’t have to tell you which was the superior movie.
Heston is perhaps best known for his role as Moses, a prophet. Like most prophets, Moses had a easier time convincing strangers that he spoke directly with God than the people closest to him. Jesus himself had the same issue .
“But Jesus told them, ‘The only place a prophet isn’t honored is in his hometown, among his relatives, and in his own house.’”
Mark 6: 4
Why should any of this be in a fly fishing blog? Because in fly fishing the opposite seems to be true, that flies, techniques, and even anglers are often only prophets in their own land…errrr…water.
I was at a fly tying demonstration the other week, and the presenter tied a series of shrimp flies. I probably wouldn’t have noticed anything out of the ordinary except that he tied his own verison of a Gotcha remarking that it was his favorite bonefish fly.
A voice from the audience asked if that fly would work on the Northeast flats when the stripers were on shrimp. The presenter said that he didn’t know; he had only used it for bonefish. That got me thinking.
Is there any functional difference in a bonefish feeding on shrimp than a striper feeding on shrimp? If there are differences do they need to be addressed in the fly pattern, or the presentation? And the most interesting of all, were people not using flies for stripers merely because they were designed for bonefish?
This reminded me of a trip I took to Alberta for the great northern pike. I enjoy fishing for pike but in my little section of the world the majority of good pike water are rivers. Alberta is a land of enormous lakes so I really felt out of my element. So I did what any good fly fisherman should do, I listened to the locals. Their advice was rock solid and I caught a lot of fish.
Then a freakish storm came up, I wasn’t expecting it to snow in June. Much of the advice, which was perfect when the lake was calm, now didn’t work. I was fishing with my buddy Mark, another striper fisherman. Casually not really hearing what we were saying, we mentioned to each other that the way the lakes choppy waves were crashing against the boulders was not unlike the coast of Rhode Island. Waves against rock is a great structure to fish because it gives the stripers everything they need, loads of oxygen, cover in the form of foam, and confused baitfish. Too bad we weren’t fishing for stripers.
Then it dawned on us. A striper is a predator that preys on smaller fish, and a pike is a predator that preys on smaller fish. They are far more alike than different.
We switched tactics and bombed the bank the exact way we would for stripers and sure enough we caught a lot of fish…even more than the Canadians who had been kind enough to teach us the local methods. The key had nothing to do with being a lake fisherman, pike fisherman, local knowledge, or even a striper fisherman, more a combination of all these or perhaps just the willingness to let go of what you thought you should be doing and follow your observations and instincts.
I think in fishing and in life people feel a compulsion to categorize themselves. They define themselves by their jobs or with even less meaningful titles: Democrat or Republican, Blue-Collar or White-Collar, Trout or Bass. This is silly. In fact we should probably try to be a bit more like Gandalf the wizard, who boldly declared, “I am Gandalf, and Gandalf means me!”
This reminds me a bit about how I got started in football. I showed up for try-outs my freshman year and had never even worn a pair of shoulder-pads. The coach was asking everyone what do they want to play? Some answered quarterback others receiver, I simply answered “football.” It was the right answer. Same applies to the question are you a trout fisherman, striper fisherman, carp fisherman…you get the idea. Fishing is fun, why limit yourself? You will never have more knowledge about a single style or type of fishing than you will your combined experience of all fishing. Experience is too valuable to ignore because it doesn’t fit into a convenient nomenclature.
So now we are back to the Gotcha pattern, and I learn something else about us fly fishermen, something endearing. A two inch tan shrimp a bonefish eats and a two inch tan shrimp a striper eats are nearly identical. A fly tied for one will easily imitate the other. What is different is the opinion the angler has for the targeted fish. This opinion is based in pride, most similar to the pride of anyone who has ever had a pet.
Talk to a dog owner about their dog, a cat owner their cat, or even people who own reptiles and more often that not they will talk about how their pet is unique. Killer the chihuahua, Blinky the cat, and Debbie the boa constrictor are all unique and special. I think fly anglers, perhaps subconsciously, come to think of the fish we seek the same way.
Bonefish are far more wary than a striper they can only be caught on a bonefish fly, tied special for them. Just as false albacore with their incredible vision need tiny accurate flies and fluorocarbon leaders. Brown trout are an opposable thumb away from taking over the galaxy.
Local waters add to the mystique. Perfectly clear flats demand incredible skill, small streams need ninja-like stealth, and mountain lakes need a Sherpa’s endurance to even reach much less fish. This all comes from WWE of course - you build up your opponent to build up your victory over said opponent (or pre-fashion an excuse for defeat if necessary.) Seriously would you rather catch a wary eagle-eyed bonefish on a clear flat which demands the greatest of skill, or just get lucky and trick some dumb fish?
Whichever you do, keep your opinions about how you did it to yourself. Because, you are only a prophet in your own waters.