Mid-June...the fishing just keeps getting better

In my last report I was pretty amped at how good the fishing was getting. At the writing of this report I am grinning because it is only getting better! Last Sunday I guided France Daigle over wild brook trout and Saco rainbows. We had a great day chasing native squartails on a spring creek and France had some big hits and landed quite a few nice fish. Then we hit the Saco and landed two big rainbows on dries that launched themselves into the air on the hook-set. 

On Monday I was scheduled to film for NH Chronicle with WMUR. As occurred the previous Monday, rain cancelled our plans. I still took out client Charlie Houghton to scout some water I hadn't fished in a while. The fishing started off hot with four fish landed in our first anchor spot. Then at our second spot Charlie got a nice brown. From there the fishing seemed to slow with three more browns landed through the float. 

On Tuesday I guided RD Jenkinson who had never fly fished before. RD was a fast learner to say the least. He quickly got a brook trout on a dry fly in the Saco then figured out the streamer game landing five browns and a rainbow on streamers. There were plenty of close calls as well. I think he is the one who is hooked now.

On Wednesday I guided long time friend and client Richard Johnson. I knew Rich was a good fly fisherman and I wanted to make the most of our time on the water. With flows up on most of our rivers I told Rich that we could float a stretch that might not produce high numbers but could produce a monster at such high flows. I also explained that it would take some work getting the boat into said location. Rich was up for the challenge and we were on the road by six am. We got the boat in the water two hours later and I set Rich up with a seven weight and a large streamer. We fished through the first half mile with a few bumps but no solid strikes. Rich seemed surprised that nothing had swallowed the juicy looking streamer he was throwing. I explained that this fishing is not a numbers game. We were after the buck of the forest. As we moved down the river we approached a stretch strewn with mid river boulders. I anchored the boat and switched Rich's large light weight bank banging streamer with a heavy and flashier mid river fly. I pulled the anchor and instructed Rich to wing the fly through the boulders as we approached. On his second cast the fly swung directly below the boat and the rod was nearly pulled from his hands. I knew immediately that it was a large brown. When the fish surfaced Rich made a nervous cheer...after all we still had to land the beast. With the boat off anchor and in fast water I instructed Rich to fight the fish towards the boat as we floated. We were missing fishable water but I feared throwing the anchor in the swift currents would give the fish the upper hand. Rich managed to muscle the fish towards the boat putting the 7wt to the test. I grabbed the net and jammed it under the weight of the fish, then turned and quickly dropped anchor. We managed a couple pictures and a measurement 21" on the dot. The rest of the day was quite an adventure as we spent about an hour hauling the boat up the shore and a side channel to access a productive island we had slid past. We got one rainbow at the island and missed a few good pulls on nymphs. Then we were back in the boat throwing streamers for the rest of the day. Rich was just getting the swing of throwing to the bank when another buck shot out and blew up on his fly. The fish thrashed three times before throwing the hook. It was a day I'll remember for the rest of my life...I think Rich would agree.

Yesterday I guided Nat Smith of Hanover NH. Nat is new to the Granite state and wanted to get a feel for fly fishing in NH. We floated the Andro and found fish from put in to take out. The first anchor point had fish rising in a foam Eddy. Nat landed three rainbows there. Then we fished a long riffle where I lost track of how many rainbows Nat hooked, landed, and lost on a nymph rig. Then we moved down and set up at the point of an Island. On about his third cast Nat's indicator dipped. He lifted and his rod was fully bent, he swallowed...WOW. I grabbed the net and jumped into the shallows. I thought the fish might be an over-sized fall fish but it was fighting too erratically. Then as it came into view I saw the spots... a large brown, no smaller than Rich's. I coached Nat on keeping his rod at a sharper angle, bent and to the side. But the fish moved with authority and was able to shake just enough to throw the size twelve nymph. Nat turned to me, jaw dropped..."That was awesome!" I always admire a person who smiles in the face of a half defeat. Fly fishing is mostly about the fight anyways right? Well of course landing the fish is much preferred so we fished on with a vengeance. Nat continued to land rainbows on the nymph rig throughout the rest of the float. Then as the sun became golden against the horizon it brought up what I had been hoping for...golden stones. When I saw the first stone I tied one on to the dry fly rod and told Nat, "Watch this" I threw the fly to the bank and a rainbow sharked out and slammed the fly. I handed Nat the rod and explained, "This will be fun." 

Needless to say Nat caught and lost fish on the stone for the rest of the evening. Some large and some small, but all crazy aggressive. One of the last fish will stay in my memory banks for a long time. We were throwing the fly into the center of a large riffle when a head that looked like the end of a chrome football thrashed out of the water missing the fly twice. We rowed back and tried in vain for another strike but the beast had vanished. Of course if you'd like to try for him...I know where he lives. The good news is that the golden stones should last through the summer and always produce my biggest rainbows of the year. 

As for business I am booked solid this month with only June 24th still available. I have more openings in July when the golden stones are at their zenith. 

Tight lines,

Nate

Rich and his "Buck Brown"

Wild brook trout taken on a large ant. 

One of France's leaping bows.

RD and one of his browns.

Nat with one of his many rainbows

This guy crushed the stone before running sixty feet down river!

Let the Games Begin!

The fishing here in the White Mountains has really taken off over the last week. On last Tuesday I guided client Bob Norton over wild brook trout and I lost track of how many we landed. Fish were crushing a stripped herron fly and stripped mayfly emergers. Then on Wednesday I took a peak at the Androscoggin in the afternoon. I was pleased to see trout crushing caddis up and down the river. I went back to the car and grabbed my rod. I fished until I landed a large rainbow and then went back to the car to  call Bob Norton. He had me booked for another trip on Thursday. I convinced Bob to upgrade to a half day float and I know we are both glad that he did. We had rainbows and brookies eating dries for the majority of the float with the last fish landed right at dark. Bob lost a few good fish but made up for it with a couple of gorgeous wild rainbows over a foot long.

On Friday I donated a trip to our graduating senior at the Enriched Learning Center in Berlin NH. Mikey has been fly fishing for his entire life but hasn't gone out much since his father passed away. At our first anchor point I took a cast to demonstrate how to nymph the water and promptly hooked and lost a large rainbow. Mikey grabbed the rod from my hands and began hooking fish. He lost the first few before landing a nice rainbow on the swing. Then, at our second pool, he hooked six rainbows, landing half of them with the others lost in the fast water right at the boat. Mikey was even gracious enough to let me take a few casts and I was able to land a solid wild rainbow that was rising in the slick at the end of our float. 

On Saturday morning I guided Juan Loveluck on the Saco. For a first time fly fisherman Juan was a natural and landed three brook trout on both dries and nymphs. The spinner fall was heavy and fish were coming to the surface in numbers until about 8am when the hatch died down and the fish began feeding subsurface. That evening I guided Peter Mcbride on the Andro and while the fishing was slow in the heat of the day we did manage a few small wild rainbows and had one jarring streamer strike in one of the deeper pools. Then the fish came alive as the sun set. We had a few strikes and landed one, before we ran out of daylight. 

The next morning Peter got his fill of fish with over ten landed on dry flies in the Saco. With the rain over the next few days the fishing will become a streamer game, with big fish on the move to take advantage of the hapless baitfish and smaller trout being tossed about. I've always done well fishing slump busters, zoocougers, and any white or dark streamers when the water is up. I'll be out on the Saco in the boat on Wednesday searching for some predators. When the warm weather returns we can look forward to cool water for some time with hatches resuming as the water temps and levels even out again. This should happen just in time for Monday June 8th when I will be filming with WMUR, ELC Outdoors, and Client Charlie Houghton for the show NH Chronicle. I'll keep you all posted on the air date! It is shaping up to be a banner year! 

Tight lines!

Nate

Juan with one of his first fish on a fly. 

An Andro Bow that Mikey let me cast too. 

One of Mikey's many Andro Bows.

An Andro Rainbow....did I mention these are mostly wild fish?

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A perfect fish...

It took Bob Norton two minutes of hard fighting to get this guy to the boat.

Another one of Bob's rainbows.

A wild Andro brook trout.

May= Mayflies and Fish

Much has changed since my last report. Daytime temps have fluctuated between sixty and eighty degrees and the bugs and fish have been responding. Earlier this month I got out on some landlocked salmon water and was able to land a few fish on midges, both dries and nymphs. The most memorable fish was a fourteen inch salmon that slurped a size 20 midge from the surface right after I gave it some quick twitches. Good friend Milan Krainchich and I then sight fished to holding fish using micro nymphs. We were able to land a few more nice fish to 18". The day after that we shifted our focus to exploration. We had some water that we thought would fish well from the boat in early spring with big streamers, in fact we had planned this day months in advanced. The plan was to fish only big streamers. We wanted to focus on large holdover/ wild browns that we hoped would be on the prowl after a long winter. 

The first few miles of fishing was slow but then we pulled up to a deep pool. I had Milan stop the boat well before we reached the pool and cast my streamer down and across, letting it swing in the current. As I turned to give Milan a lecture on how we should proceed to fish the pool my rod was nearly pulled from my hands. My seven weight bent into a C, I palmed the reel as the fish burned line. When he flashed I could have sworn it was a rainbow but upon closer inspection it was a silvery brown. The fish taped at just over 21 " and was as silver bright as a fresh salmon. As is customary Milan and I decided to switch positions in the boat. On his second cast Milan had a fish slam his fly, but missed it. Moments later another hit came, this one stayed on. It was even bigger than the first fish. This second brown of the day measured just shy of 24" and had the girth of a glutton.

As I'd fished the first few miles, I let Milan continue to fish as I rowed. I said if he got a second fish it would be my turn again. Moments later he was tight. This fish was smaller than the others, around 13",  but also surprisingly clean looking.

Through the rest of the day we had a few more missed fish but no more to the boat. Of course we were already content with the day.

Over the past few weeks I've been guiding on wild brook trout streams and lake tributaries for holdover rainbows and salmon. The lake tributaries are slowing down now. Before they did we caught some large rainbows and lost many more salmon and rainbows on emerging Caddis and small streamers. The wild brook trout fishing has been phenomenal with many fish taken on mayfly dries and emergers. Last weekend a size 10 herron fly was the ticket to take a few larger 10-12 inch wild brook trout that nearly broke us off by charging into the brush. These are some of my favorite fish to guide over as they are both native and wild. 

Yesterday I floated the Saco with some good friends. The water was low in the upper stretch that we floated, and we had to drag the boat through the shallows, but we managed some nice rainbows on streamers. The grey drakes were beginning to pop sporadically, and I think that our spinner falls will come at least a week early this year. It is clear that the fishing on the Saco, Ellis and Andro is just about to explode.

In other news, on June first I will be filming with Cindy Cupp-Jones of WMUR for an episode of NH Chronicle. We will be floating the Andro looking to capture some leaping rainbows on film. I'll be sure to let you all know of the air date. Wish us luck!

Tight Lines,

Nate

Florida and NH Report

I Spent last week away from home to chase saltwater quarry down in southwest Florida. But don't worry, I caught up with fishing in NH today. While I've always considered myself a cold weather dog, I have to admit that there is something refreshing about 80's and sun after a winter like the one we've had. This trip was not all about fishing but I did get some good hours in on the water. Alicia and I planned the trip on Sanibel Island because we knew that I would be able to fish and she would be able to well...be warm.

My hope was that the Snook would be cruising the beach and I'd be able to hook fish while Alicia read and searched for shells. Unfortunately a southerly wind had the surf up and the Snook well off shore. Luckily I had the help of local fishing guide Arthur Schmidt . I spoke with quite a few fishing guides in the days before this trip, but when I spoke with Art I knew I'd be hiring him. Art decided to keep our plans flexible depending on the weather, and when the forecast called for a 100% chance of rain, he said we should probably hold off. Then, not more than an hour later, Art called me back to explain that, despite the current forecast, he felt strongly that the storm would hold off long enough for us to fish. Art was right, the next day was sunny and dry. Any guide who can beat the weatherman at their own game is worth hiring.

We started the morning on a wide expansive flat, searching for porpoising tarpon. Art handed me a sage GXP 10 weight coupled with an Abel reel, then quickly took it back and tightened the drag. He explained, "Pull off about fifty feet of line and take a few false casts." I grabbed the line and pulled, but the line slid through my hands. I tightened my grip and pulled harder. I tried to imagine a fish being able to make that reel scream. Art must have sensed my thinking, because, as I began to cast, he chimed in, " If you get a take, make sure you hold on tight, they can pull a rod right out of your hands." Then I saw what looked like a mermaid*, a silver scaled creature with the girth of a woman surfaced not thirty feet from the boat. "Cast ten feet to the left." Art commanded. I made the cast and stripped the line with trembling fingers. The fish never struck. "Aggghhh they are being lazy this morning." Art mussed. "How can you tell?" "The way they are rolling, really slow, like they don't want to get out of bed." For the next two hours we continued to cast at these silver phantoms that would suddenly appear and disappear. 

As the tide began to shift Art told me to reel in and started the engine. We buzzed along, skimming at break neck speed, through a foot of water. Mullet jumped in all directions as we slowed into a mangrove chocked lagoon. "There could be baby tarpon in here." Art announced, grabbing the reel and turning the drag down two clicks. "They aren't as big, but they aren't small...20-40lbs." We fished through the mangroves but it soon became apparent that the only fish around were the mullet. Not wasting any time Art had me reeling in for another move.

We sped over to an isolated island and set up on the north side, out of the southerly wind. "We've got a good shot at both red fish and Snook here. They could be on either side of the boat. Cast at the mangroves and I'll keep an eye on the open water." I began peppering the shorline, enjoying the challenge of getting the fly to kiss the mangroves without snagging. "Nice shot!" Art complimented, and as if on cue a wave came rushing from the undergrowth, my white fly vanishing in a violent swirl of bronze. " BIG RED!" Art chimed. The fish tore into open water, and I grinned at the singing of the reel. As fast as the fish took of it came back at us. I thought Art had a shot at landing the fish so I let up on the rod, but he quickly scolded me, "UP UP" ducking as the line whizzed over his head, the fish rushing towards its bushy home. I turned the rod sideways steering the fish like a kite away from trouble. After a few more runs I led the fish to the boat and Art got his hand on the outer gill plate and hoisted the 30" red on board. 

Once we got our pictures I held the fish steady in the water until he rushed away. Art grinned, giving me a firm handshake. As a guide, I knew how relieving the fish was. Art soon began spotting reds moving in the open water and it wasn't long before I hooked one. We fished on and I soon got another fish, a sea trout. With the end of the island we moved to another. The second island was southwest facing and the wind kept trying to blow us into shore. Despite the challenge of the wind Art was able to put me on four Snook in short order. Although they were smaller than the reds, Snook are even faster swimmers, and I enjoyed the zipping of the line as they tore around the boat. 

It was a challenging day on the water and I was impressed with the number of fish we were able to catch. On the way back to the boat launch Art informed me that I'd actually completed an inshore grand slam. Redfish, Snook, and Sea-trout being the most prized gamefish in these waters. 

Over the next few days I spent most of my time off the water with a few lazy casts along the beach, to no avail. With the last two days of the trip approaching, and better weather in the forecast I decided to get serious. I called Art and asked for suggestions. He gave me a few ideas and I made my way to a channel called Blind Pass that cuts between Sanibel and Captiva islands. The mouth of the channel was rough with waves crashing against the pull of the current. I decided to hike to calmer water, finding a mangrove chocked path on the north side of the bridge. I wandered along, not really knowing where I was going. Soon I saw water through the undergrowth. I stepped out cautiously, but was relieved to find the bottom sandy, the depth shin deep. I progressed slowly, looking for any signs of life. In the middle of the lagoon was a dark patch of bottom. Just as I recognized it as an oyster bed I saw a puff of sand. Instinctively I let out a cast, the fly landed just to the right of the suspicious puff. I stripped the line twice, before the water exploded in a bright flash of fish. My line cut across the bay and I was into my backing within seconds. I got control of the line, but not the fish, who decided to make a b line to the mangroves. Pressuring the fish to the right it tore around me forcing me in consecutive circles before returning to the oyster bed, where it wrapped my line around an unseen branch. Luckily I was able to simply walk over and pluck the fish from its hiding place. I did not recognize the fish at first but knew it was some kind of Jack. I later learned it was a Jack Crevalle, a notoriously hard fighting species.

As if this wasn't enough I soon saw explosions along the mangroves. Snook were lying in wait for hapless baitfish. They appeared an easy target, but were not. It seemed that they had plenty of food to choose from and it took many quick casts to their boils before I finally felt tension on my line. I landed two and missed a few more as they rushed towards me on the hook-set. Satisfied with the day and my new lagoon I headed back to the condo to meet Alicia for dinner.

On my final day in paradise I rented a fishing kayak from Tweenwaters  on Captiva. It was only a four hour rental so I skipped over some likely water to get to a large oyster bar that Art had given me surprisingly easy directions to. I found the three small islands he mentioned and stood up in my boat for a better view of fish. I soon saw what looked like cruising redfish on the backside of one oyster bar. I pulled up to the shallows and threw my anchor. I fished to mysterious wakes for hours before I finally landed what turned out to be a Snook. I could have fished that flat for hours more but my time and vacation money was running low.  

I was sad to leave Sanibel but excited to get back to New Hampshire. I'd been getting reports from friends that the lakes region was fishing well for Rainbows and Salmon. I was finally able to make it to the water today for a quick hour of fishing. In that time I managed a fat twenty inch buck rainbow and a couple of feisty wild brook trout. This lakes region fishing should last a few weeks longer with the more northern waters outlasting those in the southern lakes region. The big fish I got today came on a size 16 peacock and partridge soft hackle which I tied on to mimic the strong hatch of  midges I saw on the water. The rainbow chose this tiny morsel over the larger leech pattern I had paired it with. The fish sipped my fly from the bottom of a deep pool. At first I thought it was the bottom, then it flashed to the surface,  made a few short runs then turned downstream forcing me to give chase. I had to feed my rod under two logs that spanned the stream before I was able to land the fish in a shallow eddy. Without a net I managed a few pictures, before my barbless hook fell from the fish's mouth. I've got a few openings if you'd like to try for some large lake run rainbows and salmon this spring. Give me a call to find out current conditions before you come. 

Tight lines,

Nate

* It is said that Tarpon are most likely the animal that sailors mistook for mermaids. 

April, Snow, Stones, and Trout

It is still snowing outside as I write this but the fishing season, for all intensive purposes, has begun. Last Wednesday I spent the afternoon waking my boat up from her winter slumber. On Thursday I hitched up the trailer in the pre-dawn hours in preparation of hitting the water right when I got out of work at 11 am. I met up with my good friend Patrick at 11:30 am. Patrick was a bit skeptical, " Are you sure we can get this thing in and out of the river without any trouble?" "Well let me show you the put in and take out and you can decide." I showed Patrick how we could slide the raft over a sturdy looking ice shelf and anchor her in a shallow eddie. "Alright but what about the take out?". We drove to the end point and I again showed Patrick that the ice had diminished just enough to get the boat into tow-able position. 

With his confidence in our entry and exit satisfied we set up our shuttle and slide the raft into the thirty three degree  water of the Androscoggin River. "You know we aren't going to catch anything." Patrick half wined. "We won't catch anything with an attitude like that." I lectured, and Patrick rolled his eyes. I couldn't blame him too much, after all I had "invited" him to go fishing. All of my friends know that when I ask them to go fishing it is because I have something that I want to figure out. In this case I had been studying the river every day on my way too and from work all winter long. A few days prior I had noticed the first bugs of 2015. A light hatch of early dark stone flies flitted about in the snow.

I tried to explain my theory to Patrick, " I think if we focus on fishing stoneflies slow and deep we might motivate one of these fish to eat." "Well I don't know man, it's just nice to get out on this boat anyways." And it was. It always amazes me how quickly things come back to me after a winter spent skiing. The gliding of the river and the stroke of my oars were synced up within a few car lengths of the put-in. We slid down the river, and Patrick threw a mid sized streamer on a sink tip while I tried a new version of an early stonefly that I had tied up a few nights prior. The first few riffles and runs did not produce any strikes, but I did not expect them too. In water this cold I was banking on the fish being laid up in the slower, deeper pools. 

As we made our way down the river we eventually came to a confluence of a deeper channel. I'd assumed that this channel, which flows at a fairly constant rate all winter long, would be free of ice, but it was frozen solid. With no choice in the matter we anchored the boat and proceeded to fish our rigs as close to the ice as we could. Fish always like the edges of things and the edge between frozen and liquid H20 is no exception. On my third drift I watched my strike indicator make an unnatural dive. I set the hook but there was nothing on the end of the line. "That looked like a fish to me!" Patrick encouraged. On my next drift my indicator only made it a few feet before shooting under...this time there was tensions on the end of the line...pulsating tension. The rainbow flashed half under the ice and I felt my heart rate quicken. I kicked the net towards Patrick, "Get the net! Just don't fall in!" Patrick managed to find the net just in time, the fly popping from the fish's mouth just as the rubber fell under her. I raised the rainbow, a healthy silver specimen, then slid her back into the water. Watching her vanish beneath the ice, I felt a nostalgic euphoria return.

Now it was Patrick's turn. I put my rod away and set to work on the oars. We covered water methodically focusing on the deeper, slower slots and glides. In one long glide  I watched Patrick's indicator shoot under. His rod rose, the line shook, and the fish was gone. We stared at each other, both knowing we wouldn't have many chances. Patrick got one more right before the take out. His indicator shot under in a deep side eddie where no rocks or logs could fake a take. Unfortunately the timing was just slightly off. The problem with only getting a few chances is that you aren't expecting them when they come.

 The sun was still above the horizon but the spring warmth of the day was already fading into a winter cold. Satisfied with our discovery we angled the boat into the take out. Patrick agreed to buy me a burger and a beer, in gratitude of the days adventure and I took him up on the offer. We clinked glasses in celebration of more fish and warmer days to come.