FlyTalk

A Visit from Saint Fisholas

By  C. Clement Trout

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and we all felt a shiver,

Not a creature was, stirring… ‘specially not in the river.

The waders were hung in the garage with great care,

Though I figured next spring, I’d still need a new pair.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of casting loops danced through their heads.

Ma asked me aloud if I’d let the dog out,

As I sucked on mint candy, and tied dry flies for trout.

When out on the porch I heard such a loud bump,

It startled me silly, and made my hands jump.

I spat out a peppermint, feeling angry and dumb,

With a size 14 dry fly hook stuck through my thumb.

I thought, as I screwed the cap back on my glue,

“This damn well better not be a lit bag of dog-poo!”

When what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But three flats boats, four guides, and six cases of beer!

You found me! Thank goodness! You’re granting my wish!

I said to the fat one… You must be Saint Fish!

He smiled at me softly; the guides took off their hats,

“Pack up the whole family, we’re going down to the flats.”

He slid his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose,

And he gave me a wink, which tingled my toes.

On Bonefish! On Tarpon! On Redfish! On Jacks!

Get your rods, and your reels, and your flies, and gear packs!

Then he raised up his arms, and made two magic skiffs fly,

So they cruised and they waited, way up there in the sky.

He let out a laugh, which made his gut shimmy,

I said, “Wait, one more thing… I just gotta call Timmy.”

“You can bring him along, if he packs his stuff fast,

He can take pictures, hang out, maybe learn how to cast!”

Now sometimes, when you’re happy, you say things like a fool,

And I did, telling St. Fish, “Man, you’re totally cool.”

He was dressed for the tropics, from the cap on his head,

To the loose shirt, his baggy shorts, and flip-flops (all red).

He had a candy-cane push-pole that he used on his boat,

And his beard was all stringy, like a sun-baked old goat.

His eyes were quite squinty, and his skin looked like leather,

And he said, “Let’s get going, gotta stay ahead of the weather.”

So we climbed on the boat, I held everyone near,

And he fired up that outboard (he isn’t into reindeer).

Then we sped through the moonlight, and got Ellie and Tim,

And for one little moment, the happy mood turned to grim.

As we crested the clouds, and swooped up through the fog,

I wondered aloud, “Who will cover the blog?”

Now you know where I went; I just gave you the reason,

And St. Fish, said he’d grant you good luck all next season.

But don’t worry if I spend a few days out of sight…

From Fly Talk, Happy Christmas, and to all a good night!

Rivers of a Lost Coast

From: Rivers of a Lost Coast Website

"At the turn of the 20th Century, a handful of pioneers carried their fly rods into California’s remote north coast and gave birth to a culture that would revolutionize their sport. For a select few, steelhead fly fishing became an obsessive pursuit without compromise.

By the early 1980s, the Golden State’s coastal fisheries found themselves caught in a spiraling decline. As California searched for its disappearing salmon and steelhead, these men foraged for their souls."

I don't know about you, but this seems to be what a fishing movie should be about. It's got history, fantastic imagery, character building, and even a little fish porn. Geeze - imagine that, a contemporary video on fishing that has some substance. Heck, they've even got Tom Skerritt narrating it.

I can't wait to see it.

click here for more info and to visit Rivers of a Lost Coast's website.

TR

This time of year starts to really be a bummer for anyone who fly fishes and and lives in the northern hemisphere. Yes, I know you folks in the south can fish all year and you folks in the north can ice fish. Let's face it though fishing slows down - even in the south. Oh, and drilling holes in frozen lakes to catch fish - don't even get me started... Ice fishing flat out sucks if you ask me. It's just a step above watching paint dry.

Every year around this time I start to make the transition from fishing to skiing. While I fish all winter it's just not quite as easy to get out and have fun.

We hit upon an idea the other day though. What if we could utilize snowmobiles and/or backcountry (AT) skis and get to a location that didn't freeze in the winter to fish. By fish, I mean cast a line. We could take a couple of days and camp. Fishing and skiing the entire time. Does this location exist on planet earth? I'm thinking it's gotta be a tailwater deep in the wilderness or some stretch of river kept ice free by springs for spell. Does anybody know of any place like this or ever heard of anything that stays fishable that you could ski to?

I'm trusting most of you are shaking your heads no right now.

Bonefish Tarpon & Trust which apparently has changed it name from Bonefish & Tarpon Unlimited (http://www.tarbone.org/) wants to keep our gamefish populations healthy.  They have proposed to the state of Florida that permit are made "no commercial sale", which is basically Florida's version of protected gamefish.

I received an email in my inbox the other day urging me to add my name to a letter that will be forwarded to the Florida Fish and Wildlife commission.  I urge everyone who reads this today to do the same thing.  Click here to add your thoughts and name.

I'm sure permit might very well be delicious, but come on! Aren't there enough other fish out there that don't support a multi-billion dollar tourism and fishing industry? 

Go eat a trout or something... Just a couple though, okay.

TR

Jeong Park of Seoul, Korea.

Totally Speechless...

Happy Monday.

TR

We have a friend named Tosh Brown that's an outdoor photographer. He's starting a publishing company for writers. Go figure...

Tosh wants to challenge the traditional avenue people are published and give a chance to, "facilitate a select list of accomplished writers who are challenging the traditional boundaries of sporting and expedition publishing. Instead of continually churning out volumes of comfortable and habitual writing, we're looking to occasionally publish something really unique."

Check out a list of subjects he's looking for consideration.

Know anybody who wants to get published in the outdoor arena? Have that special story that no one else will even look at?

Visit Departure publishing to have a shot at winning the first signed book they're going to publish here. It's going to be called The Alaska Chronicles and basically is a memoir kept by Miles Nolte who transmitted via satellite Internet a semi-daily account of what it's really like to be a fly fishing guide on a remote Alaskan river. Departure is turning that dialog into a book.

TR

Apparently the moratorium on commercial salmon catches in northern California helped at least one fish this year. This 85 lb chinook was found in Battle creek near Anderson, California. The California Dept. of Fish and Game biologists guess that it would have gone almost 90 lbs alive. This would have surpassed the sate record of 88 lbs caught in 1979.

The largest king ever caught in the country was 95 lbs in the Kenai river in Alaska in 1986. The Califonia fish was a male likely five to six years old and was 51 inches long. See the entire story here.

TR