There’s something about angling that draws us in — something about it that is integral to who we are and that either calls us to the sport or calls us back to it if we drift away for a time. For some fly fishers, it is chiefly the quiet contemplation that it allows, while for others it is the addictive adrenaline rush of the strike. For the most dedicated anglers, such as Kesley Gallagher, it becomes a passion in its own right. She travels extensively to fish for saltwater species, fishes at home in Southern California for the variety of species that the state affords in both fresh and salt water, and actively seeks to set world records, currently holding the women’s 12-pound-tippet record for corbinas. We wanted to know more about what makes such an angler so successful — what makes her tick.
Bud: You travel a lot for angling purposes, but from what I can tell, that’s normal, if you arrived here from Australia as an infant and then fished in places as diverse as Virginia and Glacier National Park. How did you start fishing — and fly fishing — and who helped? Have you always fished, even in college, or is it something that drew you back after other aspects of life intervened? And how did you end up in Southern California?
Kesley: My father always fly fished in Shenandoah National Park for brook trout in tiny creeks. He loved being away from Washington, D.C., where he was a diplomat for the State Department. His desire to “be away from it all” and to enjoy the remoteness and solitude (granted, my younger brother and I were with him), affected me greatly. I share the same wanderlust and desire to be outdoors. My father, brother, and I would travel all over the country to different national parks during the summers (Dad eventually worked for Amtrak), and I had the fortunate experience to fish all over the country before I was 15.
I can’t recall when I started fishing. I always had the knack and seemed always to be fishing when given the chance. In Three Lakes, Wisconsin, I won Fish of the Week for a 17-inch crappie when I was nine. Mom even has photos of me in a bridesmaid’s dress fishing in Wisconsin at her wedding to my stepfather.
I do recall the first time I actually fly fished. I was 10, and we were on Trout Lake in Glacier National Park. I was with my stepfather, and he was a Western fly fisherman. He taught me that a trout’s rises can be timed and that they have patterns to their feeding. We were fly fishing from a raft and casting at a downed tree. I cast my Royal Wulff right by the trunk and a cutty grabbed it. It was the most breathtaking experience for me yet, and I was hooked. From 15 until I was 24, I stopped fishing. Someone told me it wasn’t very “ladylike,” and I stopped. As I teenager, all you want to do is fit in, so I tried to fit in, but never really did. I moved to Southern California with my boyfriend after graduating from college in Maine. I thought, “Why not? I have my degree from Bowdoin College and my life is ahead of me.” So I left the East Coast and never went back. My boyfriend and I shared the same wanderlust, and California was a fantastic new playground. We went somewhere new every weekend. Because of him, I discovered the Kings River and the Sierra.
My dad, however, remembered my true passion and invited me to fly fish with him on the Carson River up by Markleeville, when I was 25. I don’t know why he did it, but I remember there was no question that I was joining him. I had to buy all my gear, because I didn’t have anything. I also had to refresh my memory and learn knots, leaders, and so on all over again, so I read and read and read. The first day on the river, I landed a 17-inch rainbow on a hopper . . . and I was back. I vowed never to give fly fishing up again for anyone. I became a really good trout fly fisher on vacations and weekend getaways.
But the real angler didn’t show herself until my mid-30s. I had undergone a divorce, my father had passed away, and I was about to begin my MS degree at USC. I went to Mammoth to find peace and had a 30-fish morning on the upper Owens. I felt there had to be more, so I visited the Trout Fly to hire a guide and met Tom April. He met me at Lake Crowley the next morning to go midging. He warned me the bite was off, blah blah blah. Fifteen fish later, he was very quiet, but was looking at me oddly with a wild grin. What stood out for me was hooking one large trout that tail-walked over to the boat, ran off, tail-danced again, put me in my backing, then threw the hook. My heart was racing, and I asked Tom, “Is that what steelhead are like?” He said yes, and that was it for me. I had to have that rush again and started steelheading with him on the Rogue in Oregon. I also started fly fishing for corbinas and halibut in the local harbors and bays, which eventually led me to Andros, where I started my pursuit of bonefish. This was the beginning of who I am today.
Bud: A lot of the people I interview have backgrounds in technical or engineering areas. There may be something about problem solving that meshes well with fly fishing. Is there some relationship between what you do every day and what you do as an angler, or, as is the case for some of us, is it a way to get away from all that? Kesley: I work in the medical products industry. Currently, I work for Amgen in new product development — specifically, regulatory affairs. My job is to bring new products to market by ensuring fast and compliant global regulatory approvals. My teams and I problem solve every single day to overcome issues, roadblocks, and hurdles, both here in the United States and abroad. Our job is to develop new injection devices to ensure patient compliance with life-saving drug therapies. My job is tough, demanding, and difficult, but worth it, because Amgen improves patients’ quality of life.
I love to problem solve. Fly fishing alone on a river, in the surf, or on a lake requires me to be aware of my surroundings, the environmental conditions, the state of the water, and the presence of bait, a hatch, and more. If I am able to get a grab or a short strike, I’ve solved part of the riddle. Unhooking and releasing a fish unharmed is the actual goal, but so is the peace I find when I forget my job for awhile and get lost in that awareness. Losing yourself to this sport is a true source of joy to me.
At the same time, however, I love working in teams and learning from people with more experience. I choose my guides based on their ability to work with me. Most guides are very good at this, and they love the idea that they have an angler who is willing to take chances, be aggressive, and do their best. I always push myself to improve, and I enjoy that aspect of fly fishing because I am always learning.
Bud: I know someone whose passion is to fish almost every day on small streams near where he lives for small native brook trout. You’ve traveled a lot and pursued a variety of different species — bonefish, redfish, tarpon, and permit among them — in a variety of distant locations. What motivates the desire to roam, and what keeps you traveling?
Kesley: I fly fish all the time, both at home and abroad. I live on a lake and kayak with a fly rod for largemouth bass after work. I fly fish the Los Angeles River for carp, and I love pursuing corbinas and halibut in the surf. My friend Al Quattrocchi and I joke that we need a new tournament here in LA called the “Fly-Fishing Freeway Challenge,” where an angler has to land a corbina, carp, and halibut on a fly all in one day. Southern California can provide so many species to challenge the fly fisher that it can be mind-boggling. My work schedule recently has been very demanding, so I am pursuing my local fish that much more. They keep me sharp for my travels.
I do love to travel, though. I look forward to seeing new vistas and constantly challenge my skills on new fish species and environments. I have called 2015 the beginning of my graduate work in fly fishing. This year has seen me pursue tarpon and permit in the Keys and in Belize. There is nothing easy about either fish. I had to read more, buy new gear, get in shape, and hone my skills over and over again. I was rewarded this year with a 100-pound tarpon and three permit. This, obviously, is the beginning of a whole new obsession. My motivation stems from a desire to improve my skills continually, experience the world as much as I can, and add to my lifetime species list.
That being said, never count out local fish. Local corbinas are as tough as permit and even snobbier. And the tuna are as strong as tarpon, if not stronger, pound for pound. I have yet to land a local wahoo or marlin on a fly, but that will probably be a goal for next year.
Bud: My friend the stay-at-home smallstream angler has a highly specialized skill set and accumulated experience that allows him to focus his efforts on a limited number of flies and presentations with a highly refined selection of gear. I would imagine that targeting a variety of different species in different places without being a local in any one of them would require an entirely different approach. What have you learned about how to be successful as a traveling fly fisher with eclectic interests and diverse destinations?
Kesley: The first thing to know about traveling to different destinations to pursue fish on a fly, especially trophy fish, is to have a great guide. I can’t emphasize that enough. They make the difference between a good day and an epic one. In college, I studied field biology, and one concept that stuck is “Always trust what the locals say. They live there — you don’t.” What you read in a book isn’t always the rule, so keep an open mind. Guides know their area better than you do, and as I tell
many, you are paying them for their experience and knowledge. The guides I have worked with say that guiding a woman is easier, because they listen to them. I never go on a boat thinking I know more than the guide — I am there to learn, test my skills, and ultimately to have a great day. Leave arrogance at home.
If I am in the United States, I buy my flies in the local shop near the river or, for salt water, make sure I discuss flies to bring or ensure my guide will provide theirs. Overseas is a different matter entirely, because one must nearly always bring one’s own flies. In that case, I rely on friends who have been there before to divulge what flies were successful during that specific season. In my experience, though, skills and technique trump fly selection. You aren’t going to hook that permit or bonefish or tuna if you can’t make the distance cast or the strip set or don’t know how to make the wind work for you. Fresh leaders and tippets are also must haves at all times. So many people forget that. I have found most guides, but not all, will tie their leader with your materials . . . so be prepared. And check your knots often!
Bud: On Dan Blanton’s bulletin board, one of the perennial topics involves how to travel with fly-fishing gear in the post 9/11 world: What can be carried on, and what needs to be checked? How does one negotiate the TSA here and customs elsewhere? What advice do you have for anglers traveling to distant destinations both beyond and within the United States?
Kesley: As a rule, I always carry on my rods and reels. They are the most expensive to replace and the most critical to a successful trip. I also carry on an extra set of clothing, contact lens case and solution, and other necessities, in case my other bag is late getting to my destination. But my rods, reels, and leaders come with me at all times. Obviously, saltwater pliers can’t be carried on or hook sharpeners. Anything that looks like it can be used to gouge a person shouldn’t be in your carry-on. As a general rule, search through your carry-on for items you may have forgotten before you pack. That way, you know exactly what is in your bag.
If the TSA does search your bag, be patient. I have never been denied carrying my gear on board . . . yet. Also, if you carry your rods and reels with you, you can answer questions regarding your purpose. By being able to discuss fishing, you will probably be more successful in keeping your gear with you than if your gear was denied reentry to the United States because someone thought the rod tubes constituted a “security risk” in your luggage. This happened to me on a trip from Israel, and I didn’t see my gear for three days.
Bud: You hold the 12-pound-tippet class International Game Fish Association world record for corbina at 3 pounds, 12 ounces, and I’ve read that you’re “seeking more” records. I also see that you’ve participated in tarpon fly-fishing tournaments, so I sense a competitive streak. There are fly fishers who see the sport as an escape from competition. Is there something about saltwater fly fishing that brings out the competitor in us all, or is competitive angling just something that appeals to some folks and not to others?
Kesley: I am very competitive. I used to compete in dressage as a teenager and into my mid-30s. I trained horses at night after work and loved competing at horse shows to demonstrate mastery. Since leaving dressage, I have tried to tame that inner monster, but it comes out at times. Heidi Nute invited me to compete in the Ladies Tarpon Fly Tournament in 2015 in Islamorada. Another guide and I were in it, but due to complications, he couldn’t make it. Greg Dini of Fly Water Expeditions and I tried to make our schedules work for the tournament in 2016, but couldn’t. We will be in the tournament in 2017, if the stars continue to align properly, and we both can’t wait to compete. He’s as competitive as I am, if not more so!
As for IGFA world records, I also held the women’s 16-pound-class-tippet record for red drum, but it was a very brief tenure — red drum records are very competitive, due to the amazing fisheries in the Gulf of Mexico and the increasing skill of women fly anglers. Greg Dini and I went after that record for two years. When we finally got the fish, we both nearly collapsed on deck! The level of concentration, focus, endurance, and tenacity needed is not trivial. Greg used to play for the Anaheim Angels as a catcher, and he understands how to reach in and use my competitive monster to my advantage. Because of him, my skills, tenacity, and drive have increased tremendously. Because of my equestrian career, I am very used to being coached and pushed to do my best. Greg wouldn’t have it any other way, either.
The corbina record also required tenacity and was a true “did it myself.” I had landed a record corbina two years prior, but was not prepared to record it. Any record is a feat — it’s work. You have to know the regulations, have the right tippet, have a good camera, a calibrated scale, and witnesses. As they say, “Luck favors the prepared.” By being a regulatory professional who submits dossiers to the FDA on behalf of Amgen, I regard the IGFA submission process as serious (verified data is everything!) and part of the fun.
Bud: I’ve been focusing on your travels, but you also fish a lot close to home. What are your favorite fly-fishing venues in Southern California, and do you venture to other parts of the state?
Kesley: I love to fish anywhere I get challenged. I thoroughly enjoy fishing for corbinas in the surf. It’s frustrating and heartbreaking and sometimes rewarding, and to me, it’s the poor girl’s permit. I love fly fishing for halibut in the spring in the local surf, too. And, due to El Niño, the pursuit of yellowfin and bluefin tuna, doradoes, and one day, wahoos, on the fly off of San Diego has become a favorite pursuit of mine, with Mark Martin of San Diego Saltwater Fly Fishing. The LA River also provides an outlet for my sight-fishing obsession — carp are a great chase. And of course, I can’t leave out the Mammoth Lakes area for trout, the lower Sacramento River, Fall River, and Hat Creek for rainbows, and the Trinity River for steelhead. California is an amazing state for the fly fisher in both fresh and salt water.
Bud: Anyone who fishes a lot — and starts setting IGFA records — tends to get noticed. It’s what we’re doing here. And when that happens, a person tends to become a representative of the sport. You’ve offered a class for beginning fly fishers at the Fly Fishing Faire of the International Federation of Fly Fishers Southwest Council. That raises the question of what an angler, prominent or not, owes to the sport, and particularly a female angler, now that women in fly fishing are finally being acknowledged as integral to it. At what point does recreation become obligation?
Kesley: Inspiring fly anglers to try something new is my way of giving back. I fish because I love it. I enjoy meeting people who share my passion for the sport, and I thoroughly enjoy inspiring all fly anglers to try a new species or region. I have been told by fathers how I inspire their daughters to fly fish, how they enjoy looking at my Facebook page together and discussing my trips. If my father were alive today, I am certain we would be doing the same thing. I also enjoy hearing from women who are new to the sport and from women inspired to fly fish a new area while traveling on business or when their husband is golfing.
Bud: Fly fishing is by no means any longer a sport only for males, but some of them may be puzzled about how to go fishing with a woman as a fishing buddy. Do you have any words of wisdom on that topic?
Kesley: A close friend who has mentored me on fly fishing for bonefish and permit said I have taught him one good rule about fishing with a woman. He told me the one important thing he has learned from fly fishing with me is never to give advice without being asked first. And it’s true! Let a woman make mistakes and let her learn on her own. If she needs your help, she will ask. A guide, however, can make as many suggestions as he or she wants. . . .
Bud: Here we are at the traditional Silly Tree Question: If you were a tree, what kind of tree would you be?
Kesley: A red mangrove. They live in salt water and provide cover to baby tarpon, snook, and permit. Perfect tree for me.
