As a lifelong angler, teacher, and guide, I do more than pay attention to how I fish. I also watch how other people fish. I see three common mistakes that hurt people’s prospects before their first cast. The good thing is, they’re relatively easy issues to fix. If you’re willing to make a few simple changes in how you angle, you’ll start to increase your odds for success.
Tip 1: Slow Down
The first tip is the most difficult for me to put into action, because since age 6, I’ve had an electric passion for fishing. At age 44, little has changed. I still turn restlessly in bed the night before a trip, imagining what the next day might bring. Enthusiasm and excited anticipation are great, but not when I let them translate into a hurried approach, especially on new waters. It’s hard to observe anything accurately if you’re moving too fast. More than any other form of fishing I know, fly fishing demands careful observation. First observe, then fish.
Recently, I applied this simple approach while fishing an unfamiliar blue-ribbon spring creek. My attempts on the first two evenings had failed to deliver results in spite of my belief that I had the right patterns. On the third evening, I wanted better results, which meant something had to change. I entered the water quietly, but instead of immediately fishing, I watched. I admit it took a double shot of self-discipline to observe passively while my friends actively fished. For 15 long minutes, I waited like an anxious teenager hoping for a first kiss. Finally, I noticed a fish rise, then another and another, all in the same subtle pocket of minutely deeper water. I repositioned myself, made a cast to the feeding lie, and hooked a beautiful rainbow trout on the first drift. I released it, took time to observe, and again saw a pattern of rising fish. A well-placed cast quickly produced a second wild rainbow, and more followed until the day gave up its last few rays of light. This waiting was not easy. It took a lot of discipline, but forcing myself to slow down and observe paid off.
Tip 2: Work the Close Water First
The second tip starts at the water’s edge. Always work the close water first and move outward to ensure you’re covering all the water. Fish are predators that think and act on basic needs. Three of these needs are security, food, and shelter. Conditions that supply these needs can occur anywhere in the river, including one foot from shore, in which case it’s very likely you’ll find fish there.
Steelhead season usually offers the best example of people ignoring the first few feet of water in a rush to find fish. I regularly watch fly fishers blast into the river and wade thigh deep into a run, usually with a Spey or switch rod in hand, to begin making graceful, 90-foot casts into the deep, “fishy” water. Spey casting is beautiful, but more often than not, especially on California’s relatively small rivers, I’ve seen it translate into anglers being focused on the cast and not on the fish. Unless you’re on, say, British Columbia’s Skeena River, you don’t need a monster cast to cover the water effectively. Most fish are caught on the fly within 20 feet of the angler, and in my experience, this includes steelhead.
Regardless of the species you’re chasing, ignoring the close water means spooking any fish near the bank as you walk through the water holding them, or it means lining them with a long first cast. Either way, the result is the same: you’ve lost your opportunity to target and catch them. Remember, if their needs are met, they’re relatively unconcerned with the neighborhood. Ignore the close water at your own expense.
Tip 3: Use Cover to Hide Yourself
The third tip is common practice for hunters, but it seems to be lost on many fly fishers: use cover to hide yourself. As Kelly Galloup says, “Stalk more, cast less.” I consider myself a fish stalker at all times, but water clarity is the critical factor that determines how stealthy the approach needs to be. On turbid rivers such as the Pit and the McCloud, you can get very close to fish without spooking them. Fast-moving or broken water also makes it harder for fish to detect you, and they’ll be less bothered by your proximity. In contrast, on crystal-clear waters such as the upper Sacramento or the Merced, where you can easily see and be seen by fish 20 feet down, success demands stealth. On this type of water, you have two choices: use distance to hide your presence or, if you’re fishing close, use cover to conceal yourself. As snappy as you may look in your newest kit, the fish never want to see you. Wearing drab clothing and keeping a low silhouette helps hide your presence.
I once guided a friend on the upper Sacramento in late summer. There was no shortage of fish, but they were extremely skittish in the slow, clear water. I’d learned the hard way that if a fish senses you, the game is up before your first cast. I told my friend to stay low, make short casts, and use the small boulders to hide himself. I positioned him at the head of a choppy run that I knew held trout while I went downstream. I followed my own advice and caught fish. After 20 minutes, I looked upriver to see my friend standing on a rock midstream, straight and tall and as conspicuous as the Statue of Liberty. I walked back to where he was standing and gently noted he didn’t seem to be having much luck. Genuinely surprised and confused, he nodded. “Yeah, no fish.”
Rocks, trees, bushes, grass, broken water, and a low silhouette are your allies in close-quarters, clear-water conditions. Use them to your advantage. If there’s little cover, stay low, move slowly, and try to keep casting movements to a minimum. I’ve noticed some people feel a little silly hiding behind rocks or crawling on their hands and knees, but this feeling usually goes away after hooking a few fish. Give these tips a shot. See if your results improve. I suspect you’ll find yourself heading home happier than if you tramp out to midstream, perch yourself on the nearest rock, and give it your best Statue of Liberty imitation.
