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NEWSLETTER #4 -
JUNE 2002
TOPICS IN THIS
ISSUE:
-
GREAT WESTERN
TROUT LODGES/OUTFITTERS
-
Wyoming lodge
report
-
The right touch
for rookie men, women and children fly fishers
-
Great three
night Rockies' option for corporate groups or
families
-
British Columbia
fly out lodge has trout, salmon, and steelhead
-
The Teton River
canyon stretch – a personal favorite
-
SALT WATER FLY
FISHING HIGHLIGHTS
-
A Special Salt
Water Grand Slam – tarpon, permit and bonefish
-
Bahamas'
report: Deluxe Andros West Side
lodge
-
A three permit
week is exciting – especially when they are your
first three
-
2003 Leland
Hosted Trip Preview
-
2002 Leland Trip
Program Update
This, the fourth of
our monthly newsletters with updates on great fly
fishing venues and insight for Our traveling fly
fishers, has a focus on Western fly fishing
destinations. We want to help you in your research
for your next fly fishing destination – we’ve been
most places and pride ourselves in the ability to
research new locations. For the same cost as
booking direct we get you unbiased information on
timing and locations.
REPORT - WYOMING
LODGE ON NO. PLATTE: Tony Brookfield and a
friend fished this lodge in early April. This is a
quality early (April) or late (Oct/Nov) season
option for those looking for a non-summer Rockies'
trout fix. Part of Tony’s report states: “Peter
and I had a great time on our North Platte
trip……..we were joined by a group of seasoned
fishermen who fish all over the world – they claimed
that the North Platte is the best place for big
trout (they have been back a half dozen times and
will be returning in May) .” Tony’s full report is
pasted in at the bottom of this newsletter.
THE RIGHT TOUCH
FOR BEGINNING FLY FISHERS – MEN, WOMEN, AND
CHILDREN: This is the best time of year
for those interested in learning to fly fish to make
their plans because there are so many good options.
The appeal of fly fishing has stimulated many to
begin learning the sport. There are many ways to
get started including some of the local programs
conducted by the Leland shops. Maybe the most
exciting way to get started is to reserve space at a
renowned fly fishing lodge. This gives you a chance
to learn while on the water with an experienced
guide/teacher in a beautiful environment. Skills
are developed and practiced for a concentrated
period of time (3/4 days to a week) allowing you
enough time to really establish a foundation upon
which to build your fly fishing hobby.
In addition to the
excellent teaching staff members in the shops, all
the lodges/guides we work with are experts at
training newcomers to the sport. From the
outstanding approach for new lady fly fishers at
Three Rivers Ranch to the North Platte or the
Canadian wilderness with Moose Lake Lodge, there are
many options to satisfy whatever your specific
interests/family objectives may be. One of fly
fishing’s greatest rewards is the great places your
fly rod can take you. This list includes the most
beautiful and pristine environs our world has to
offer. Over a period of several years, a newcomer
to fly fishing could develop the skills that take
them from catching/releasing their first 10 inch
trout to, while using a fly less than three inches
long, stalking and taking a 100 pound tarpon on the
salt water flats of Belize. In between those two
destinations could be stops at many places in our
spectacular Rocky Mountains to Alaska, New Zealand,
the Bahamas', the Andes of South America, etc. etc.
THREE NIGHT TETON
AREA EXPERIENCE FOR CORPORATE GROUPS AND FAMILIES
WITH LIMITED TIME AVAILABLE: When looking for
quick and invigorating three night fly fishing and
outdoor experience for newcomers and veterans alike
in a first class Western Rockies' environment, it’s
hard to beat this one. The trip centers on an
overnight float trip through the canyon of the South
Fork of the Snake River in eastern Idaho. The
canyon section has limited access, wonderful scenery
and a productive fishery including native
cutthroats, rainbows, and browns. The outfitters we
work with hold many of the limited permits giving
them access to guide fisherman through the canyon.
They have a permanent tent camp set up in the canyon
where comfortable accommodations and tasty meals are
served. Couple the outdoor experience with upscale
lodging and meals for the first and third night
either in the Jackson Hole area or on the South Fork
itself and it’s the perfect answer for a limited
time adventure.
BRITISH COLUMBIA
WILDERNESS LODGE HAS COMBINATION OF TROUT, SALMON
AND STEELHEAD: John Blackwell’s Orvis endorsed
Moose Lake Lodge and Dean River Lodge offer an
attractive array of fishing venues and species.
These are comfortable, isolated fly-in lodges.
There is great fishing to be found at both locations
within walking distance or via guided horseback ride
at Moose Lake Lodge. However, it’s the helicopter
or float plane fly out options that open up the
varied possibilities. They can put you on with
streams and coastal rivers where you can pursue a
100+ trout day on dry flies, silver and king salmon,
or the famous Dean River steelhead all within the
same week. Space is very limited, especially on the
Dean River (one of our weeks on the Dean have been
sold out for almost a year). Please plan ahead to
book this experience. Now is the right time to
begin thinking about the summer of ’03.
THE TETON RIVER
CANYON STRETCH – A PERSONAL FAVORITE: For a fly
fishing venue to qualify on my list of favorites, it
must have stunning scenery, productive fishing, and
a feeling of separation from the rest of the world
(i.e., the ability to enjoy the wonders without
sharing it with numbers of others). One such place
in the lower 48 is the float trip through the canyon
stretch of the Teton River in eastern Idaho. The
Teton is a river with many personalities, but it’s
greatest charms are found in the canyon section.
Part of the charm is it’s limited access – there are
very few outfitters who have both the permits and
the access through private property needed to fish
this stretch. I have floated this section at least
eight times during my stays at Three Rivers Ranch
and have encountered only a few other fisherman
during those drifts. It has also delivered the
largest native fine spotted cutthroat I’ve ever
caught (about 6 pounds) and it was taken on the
surface – it’s a primarily dry fly fishery. For a
view of some of the dramatic rock formations that
make the canyon special, see the photo essay my wife
and I published in the ---- edition of Gray’s
Sporting Journal.
FIRST TRY RESULTS
IN A TARPON, PERMIT AND BONEFISH GRAND SLAM:
All Grand Slams are unique and treasured as a
highlight of a salt water flats fishing career, but
the one that’s reported in this newsletter is EXTRA
SPECIAL. Why? First, it was caught by a newcomer
to salt water fly fishing - someone who had never
before caught a permit or tarpon. Second, it was
special to me because my wife and I happened to be
at the lodge with this young man and his
“child-bride” when he caught it and we got to share
the excitement almost first hand. Third, because of
the way it happened. Pasted in at the bottom of
this newsletter is a report from Jim Arce on his
EXTRA Special day. It’s a good read and thanks to
Jim for putting it together.
BAHAMA’S REPORT:
DELUX ANDROS WEST SIDE BONEFISH LODGE: While
on our recent trip to Andros Island in the Bahamas',
Josh Frazier (Leland’s owner) and I took the
extended boat trip necessary to preview the ONLY
lodge on the west side of Andros Island, Flamingo
Cay. It’s location on the West Side gives it
access to fabulous flats that can’t be practically
reached from the East Side of Andros (there are no
roads in the area and access is only by float
plane). But it’s location is just the beginning –
the lodge itself has a wealth of character
reflecting the Bethell family ownership which began
in the 1920’s. For many years the lodge was held
just for personal family friends and was also host
to the Duke of Windsor and other celebrities,
primarily for waterfowl shooting. Today, hunting
is still an attraction, but it’s the fishing that is
of primary interest to us. The operation is run by
Charles Bethell III and is a strong candidate to
make our list of hosted trips for ’03.
A THREE PERMIT
WEEK – AND THEY WERE THE FIRST THREE: Three
permit in one week doesn’t happen often – they are
just toooo tough no matter how much experience the
fisherman possesses. However, for Dr. Warren Parker
fishing with Martin McCord aboard the Meca in April,
there was nothing to it. Warren actually hooked
four permit during his week in Belize and released
three to 16.5 pounds. Most exciting was that these
were the first three permit he’s caught. He wasn’t
a complete novice – he’s from Florida and had fished
for permit before in southern Belize. All four ate
a #2 Merkin fly. For details on this salt water
adventure, check
www.flyfishbelize.com
A LOOK AT
TENTATIVE PLANS FOR OUR HOSTED TRIP PROGRAM FOR
2003: We are in the process of putting
together our hosted trip program for 2003. This is
like a venture down a fly fishing fantasy road as we
look at all the possibilities for exciting fly
fishing travel and try to assemble a group of
outfitters and lodges that will offer a varied list
of quality experiences for our clients and our shop
staff. Of course, we will keep on our list some of
the trips that have been successful such as New
Zealand, Ladies Week at Three Rivers, the Minipi
River Brookies, Belize mothership trips, Dean
River/Moose Lake Lodge, Deschuttes River and Smith
River Float trips, etc. Some of the ideas we are
considering adding are Mongolia for giant Taiman, an
exclusive Bahama bonefish lodge, Boca Paila Lodge
near Ascension Bay, a pristine tropical island
experience in French Polynesia (near Tahiti) for
bonefish and other saltwater species, Kamcatka
(eastern Russia) for rainbows, steelhead, char and
salmon, Tierra del Fuego, and a few others.
If you’d like to
cast a vote for any of the trips listed or suggest
something that isn’t listed, please let me hear from
you. Details will be finalized in the next few
weeks.
2002 TRIP AVAILABILITY:
Belize mothership
trip in Oct still has some space available
Smith River hosted
trip is full, but a few opening are still available
for other weeks
Deschutes June trip
is full, but other trout weeks have openings
Deschutes September
steelhead trip is open
2002 Minipi River
has two openings remaining
2003 Minipi River
July trip is full, but we will have another week on
the Minipi
Dean River – both
weeks for ’02 full, but reservations are being taken
for ’03
Ladies Week at Three
Rivers Ranch – July week is full, a few openings
still for September.
Spots still
available for September Alaska rainbow trout and
Christmas Island Oct 27.
New Zealand for Feb
’03 has openings
An enthusiastic
traveling fly fisherman,
Don Muelrath
Leland Fly Fishing
Adventures
888-347-4896
flyfish@napanet.net
www.flyfishingoutfitters.com
e-mail Josh Frazier
at
Josh@flyfishingoutfitters.com
If you want to be
removed from our e-mail newsletter mailing list,
just hit “reply” and let us know – you’ll be removed
immediately.
COMPLETE NORTH PLATTE REPORT:
Peter and I had a
great time on the North Platte (besides the hand
cramps at the end of the trip). We had been
concerned that the weather may not be great in early
April in Wyoming, however, we had 60 to 70 degrees
every day. Catching less than 20 fish each per day
was considered a bad day (but who’s counting), and
we caught nothing smaller than 15 inches - Mostly
rainbows and a few cutbows. The guides were patient,
superb oarsmen and skilled fish-finders - The lodge
was comfortable, the food excellent and the hosts
were friendly..
We were joined by a
group of seasoned fishermen, who fish all over the
world - They claim that the North Platte is the best
place anywhere for lots of big Trout (they have been
back a half dozen times and will be returning this
May).
I’ll be back!
Tony Brookfield
LEAP YEAR GRAND SLAM
by Jim Arce
In January, 2000,
Pat and I were planning a trip to celebrate our
First Anniversary on February 20th. She was
dreaming of sandy beaches, warm breezes and exotic
cultures. I was dreaming of catching a permit.
I learned of permit
in 1996 when I went to Christmas Island for my first
bonefishing trip. Before the trip I read several
books on fishing the flats. As I studied the
intricacies of catching bonefish, I read of an even
more elusive prey, the permit. I was captivated,
and dreamed of a time that I would pursue them.
Pat and I found a
destination that had everything we were both looking
for, especially permit. It was Playa Blanca, a
small resort in the Yucatan just north of Espiritu
Santo Bay. We flew to Cancun via Miami and spent
the night.
The next morning we
boarded a small 4 seat Cessna at the Cancun
airport. We flew south for about 1 hour and landed
in another world. On a small limestone airstrip
carved out of the mangroves, heavily armed federalis
checked us carefully to make sure we were not drug
runners. Having passed inspection, we piled into a
small boat and motored across a lagoon to Casa
Blanca, the mother lodge to Playa Blanca.
The staff greeted us
with refreshing drinks that we enjoyed on the beach
while they loaded our gear onto the truck. The
barrier reef was right in front of us. The beach
was pure white, the water was crystal turquoise, and
palm trees swayed in the breeze. The intensity of
city life began to melt away. Shortly, we climbed
aboard the truck and sat on wooden benches.
The drive south took
us farther and farther from civilization. The
narrow road led through thick brush, with mangrove
lagoons on our right and palm covered beaches on our
left. Wildlife scattered as we drove along slowly.
Birds flew from the brush and iguanas scampered from
the warm soil where they had been basking in the
tropical sun. We passed few dwellings.
After 40 minutes we
came to a clearing on our right where an ancient
Mayan temple rose mystically from the mangroves. An
enclave of cabanas built of stucco and dark wood
with thatched roofs sat on the beach to our left.
We had arrived at our destination, Playa Blanca. It
was Saturday, February 26.
That night after
dinner, I readied my gear. I assembled an 8 weight
rod for bonefish, and a 10 weight rod for permit and
tarpon. I cleaned the lines and straightened the
leaders. I checked over the flies that I had tied
so carefully in our living room in San Francisco for
weeks while dreaming of this very night. Tomorrow I
would fish for permit. I was ready.
Sunday morning after breakfast, we got our
assignments. Fernando was to be our guide for the
week. He was a pleasant and enthusiastic young
Mayan, who had spent little time outside the
Yucatan. He barely spoke English and I barely spoke
Spanish, but we enjoyed each other’s company and
communicated well during the week.
To my
disappointment, that day Pat and I were to fish the
mangrove lagoons for bonefish. There might be the
occasional tarpon, but there would be no permit.
Fernando guided us out to the flats through a maze
of tunnels cut in the mangroves. The boat barely
fit through some of the passages. Occasionally, we
climbed out of the boat and pushed it while we
clambered over the mangrove roots. We would then
speed over a lagoon to the next narrow passageway.
There were numerous
schools of bonefish on the shallow flats. We caught
dozens, all on a pink crazy charlie. They averaged
2 to 3 pounds and fought well. The birds were even
more numerous than the bonefish. We saw all
varieties of waterfowl including herons, ducks and
egrets. The most beautiful by far was the roseate
spoonbill. Several flew close overhead, seemingly
to check us out. They were bright shrimp pink with
a bill shaped like a very large serving spoon. It
was a wonderful day, but I wanted to fish for
permit.
On Monday morning,
February 28th, we headed to Espiritu Santo Bay. We
took the truck south to the boat, embarked, and sped
to the bay. The flats boat skipped over the waves
and sprayed us with salt water. We urged Fernando
to go faster; he pushed it to full throttle. We
huddled under our rain slickers and giggled—we were
finally going to chase permit!
Fernando slowed the
boat as we reached the southern shore of the bay.
He brought us close then cut the throttle. We
looked over my flies and selected one: a size 4
Velcro body crab pattern with rubber legs and
grizzly saddle hackle claws. I tied it on my 10
weight rod and sharpened the hook while he readied
the boat. He climbed on the poling platform and I
climbed on the casting platform. We were ready.
We poled along a
flat that seemed to go on forever. The water was a
clear aquamarine with light dancing off the surface;
it was mesmerizing. I stood poised on the bow of
the boat with the fly line coiled at my feet. My
arm was cocked ready to cast at a moments notice.
Our eyes searched the water in all directions. We
saw sunken logs, rocks and the occasional barracuda
and ray, but no permit.
Then, there they
were. Two black scimitars waving gently above the
water: a pair of tailing permit at three o’clock. I
tensed as we poled into casting range. I had been
fly-fishing for over three decades, but had never
felt such excitement. Now, they were within 70
feet. The water, the air, my body, everything felt
electric.
They were gone
faster than they appeared. Spooked by the
approaching boat they shot out of sight quicker than
my eyes could follow. I breathed for the first time
in an eternity. I got saw two more pair of permit
that day. Once, I was even able to get off a cast
before they spooked. They ignored the fly
completely.
We got home at
sunset, drained. Fernando looked at my flies
again. He liked the Velcro crab, but said the
grizzly saddle hackles were too dark. That night
after dinner I tied a few new crabs: a Velcro body
trimmed in an oval, lead eyes tied with chartreuse
thread, white rubber legs with silver flecks, white
saddle hackle claws, and a pearl flashabou mouth. I
named it the “Monday Crab”.
Tuesday morning was
Leap Year Day—February 29th. We headed back down to
Espiritu Santo Bay. I tied on and sharpened a
Monday Crab as we headed south. We reached the
flats, and Fernando began poling the shore. I stood
on the bow and peered expectantly through the water.
Fernando saw them
first: a trio of permit at 100 feet and closing
fast. We waited until they were at 65 feet and then
I cast about 5 feet in front of them. The crab
fluttered to the bottom and the permit paused.
Strip slowly Fernando said, and keep stripping. On
the second strip the fly just stopped, the permit
stopped and my heart stopped. I stripped one more
time to set the hook, then came up with the rod tip.
The permit peeled
off line as I let him run. In a heartbeat he was
well into my backing. I kept the rod high and my
hand away from the reel until he finally tired. I
began to reel, bringing him in slowly. I had
recovered half the line when he set off on another
hard run. This time he took me to where I could see
the bottom of the spool before he stopped. I reeled
as fast as I could, barely recovering the line
before he ran again.
After four long
runs, the permit changed its tactics. He began to
circle the boat at a distance, turning sideways
against the pressure of the line. It seemed like
stalemate for a while, but gradually I was able to
bring him closer. After more than twenty minutes, I
finally got him to the boat. Fernando tailed him,
and lifted him aboard. He was about 18 pounds.
I think it was his
eyes that were the most magical. They were large,
gentle and alive; somehow he seemed more aware than
any fish I had caught before. He had a subtle
beauty that was majestic: a silver and pale blue
body, with subdued yellow tones and dark blue fins.
And his lips looked like they had been drawn by
Disney himself, round and whimsical. He was the
most beautiful fish I had ever caught.
Pat took some
pictures, I kissed him on the nose, and we set him
free. Fernando poled us to shore and we had lunch
under some pine trees. I was still tingling with
the excitement of catching my first permit.
After lunch, we
headed across the bay to the north. We were going
to the lagoon of a large river to seek tarpon. I
had never fished for tarpon before and was excited
to give it a try. I tied on a leader with an 80
pound shock tippet as we crossed the bay, and put on
a tarpon fly—a Black Death, that I had tied for just
this occasion. I kept sharpening it nervously until
we reached the river.
We entered the mouth
of the river and went up a deep channel. After a
quarter of a mile the bottom came up quickly. We
crossed a shallow bar and headed towards the center
of the lagoon. The prop cut a swath through the
shallow grass and churned up the muddy bottom
leaving a dark trail behind us. Fernando cut the
motor and began poling.
The water was murky
from recent rains and there was a slight chop on the
water. I saw nothing but Fernando soon sighted
tarpon. They were moving quickly through the
water. I made casts to several pods with no takes.
A few fish followed but refused the fly.
I changed patterns
to one I had created in my living room--a modified
Cockroach with two pairs of ginger grizzly saddle
hackle wings layered over orange squirrel tail. We
tested it by the boat and it had great movement in
the water. Fernando saw another pod of tarpon
approaching and I cast in front of them. I let the
fly sit for a moment then began making short and
quick strips.
A powerful jolt
shocked my arm. I pulled the rod to one side and
tugged the line hard three times to set the hook.
The tarpon exploded from the water throwing its body
into the air with reckless abandon. The fish flung
itself into the air repeatedly, gills flaring and
tail flailing with summersaults and leaps that would
do a gymnast proud. Then one long run and it was
over.
We boated the 35
pound tarpon. It looked positively prehistoric.
The large scales seemed like armor and the huge
mouth felt like cement. Pat took a picture and we
put it back in the water, no kiss for this fish.
It was only two
p.m., we had landed a permit and tarpon, and we were
just a bonefish away from a grand slam. What an
incredibly lucky day! I stowed the 10 weight,
rigged up my 8 weight, and tied on a pink crazy
charlie. We headed to the bonefish flats, at the
far north end of the bay.
We went back across
the lagoon towards the river mouth, the prop again
chewing up the bottom. We had almost reached the
bar at the entrance to the deep channel when the
motor conked out. Fernando pulled hard on the
starter rope several times. Nothing. He checked
the gas, looked at me and shrugged his shoulders.
Plenty, he said. Again, he tried to start the
motor. Again, nothing.
Pat and I just sat
there while Fernando set to work. He pulled out a
kit with tools and spare parts and took off the
cover. He tested the fuel lines, nothing. He
checked all the connections, nothing. He replaced
the spark plugs, nothing. We sat there while the
afternoon slowly passed, dreams of a grand slam
fading as the shadows lengthened.
We sat while schools
of needlefish and milkfish swam by. I asked
Fernando if bonefish came through here, but he said
no, it was not a good time or place for bonefish.
We waited as patiently as possible. I caught the
occasional small needlefish to keep amused.
Hours later he found
the problem. As best I understood it had to do with
the waterpump being clogged with mud. He took it
off, flushed it out, and reassembled the motor. It
started on the first pull. We raced out the
channel, into the bay and headed north. It was
nearing sunset, we had to get to the bonefish flats,
and we had a long way to go. Fernando ran the motor
flat out.
We arrived at the
flats at the golden hour. The sun was beginning to
set, and the glare on the surface made it impossible
to see into the water at any distance. We kept
circling the flats, but only saw fish when we were
right on top of them. We spooked several bonefish
and a small permit, but could not get off a cast.
The sun was below
the horizon when we turned back towards the west.
There against the sky we saw the tails of several
bonefish flashing in the fading sunlight. Fernando
quietly poled the boat closer. We ground to a stop
on a sand bar, too far away to cast. The fish
hesitated, but resumed feeding.
I slipped quietly
over the side of the boat and wading cautiously
towards the tailing fish. At 60 feet, I made the
cast and dropped the fly softly to one side of the
school. I let it sit for an eternity, then began
stripping the fly in slowly. A bonefish hit right
away. After several runs, I tailed the two pound
bonefish. The grand slam was ours.
We laughed, shook
hands and hugged. Pat took several pictures of the
two of us with the fish. I kissed the bonefish
gently on the nose and returned her gently to the
water. I don’t know who was more excited, Fernando
or I.
I helped Fernando
push the boat off the sand bar then climbed in. He
started the motor, turned the boat around and we
headed home. It was almost dark when we saw the
lights of the boats coming towards us. We were
hours late and the other guides were starting to
search for us. In our excitement, we had forgotten
to use our radio to notify them.
They followed us to
the beach where we moored the boats and waded
ashore. The rest of our group was waiting for us.
They all gathered round while Fernando and I told
the story of our amazing success. Then we piled in
the trucks and headed home. We celebrated joyously
well into the night.
Before our trip,
someone had told me that to catch a permit, you not
only had to do everything right, the stars had to be
lined up, too. That Leap Year day, when I caught my
first permit and my first tarpon and landed a
bonefish at sunset, the stars and all the planets
were with us. And, as luck would have it, we had
Fernando, who was not only a fine guide, but
fortunately, a great mechanic.
Don Muelrath
Leland Fly
Fishing Adventures
888-347-4896
flyfish@napanet.net
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