Streamside on Line

In this issue:

  Articles, news and fly tying tips are gratefully accepted. Please e-mail them to Roy Cubbler. Thank you.

The Dame Juliana League conducted its 12th annual “Learn to Fly Fish” course on Saturday, April 24 at the Phoenixville YMCA. More than 40 novice fly fishers and a large number of instructors, organizers and helpers were on hand for the one-day event, and Mother Nature provided her full cooperation when it came to weather. 

With instruction ranging from equipment, to knots, casting, and much more, the neophytes went home happy with their notebooks and brains bulging with timely information on the “no longer mysterious” art of angling with a fly. President Molzahn kicked off the informative day exactly on time with a brief welcome, and Bob Moser followed with an in-depth discussion on the use and the technology of gear, rods, line, and more. This was followed by a lesson on the mechanics of casting presented by Jeff Nissle, of French Creek Outfitters. Next, fly lines filled the air as the “students” adjourned to a nearby field and practiced what Nissle had preached. From that point on, the day progressed with more instruction covering all aspects of the sport, plus a savory noon repast of Italian hoagies and sodas. At the close of the day, the novices filled in evaluation sheets and headed for home to plan a purchasing trip to their favorite sporting goods emporium.

It is May 2 and here I am stuck in front of my PC grinding out this article for STREAMSIDE. It could be worse as I did manage to get out and fish French Creek for a few hours during the mid-day last Thursday and Friday. Of course I had to compete with Dick Allebach for the best hole. Somehow he squirmed in there and managed to catch the dickens out of ‘em with his secret “beadhead” pattern (several of his flies can be found in the tree limbs above his favorite hole...this is true!)

Nonetheless, Dick Allebach, Joe Vasile, Ed Nugent and I stocked French on April 27 with trout provided by the PA Fish & Boat Commission. The water was too high to float so we bucketed all the trout in at Sheeder Mill Bridge and Pughtown Road. It looked like most of the trout were browns that, for purposes of a Delayed Harvest Area, should provide a better fly fishing experience.

Our April 24 Learn to Fly Fish Course came off like clockwork for our 12th year. We had 42 students registered. Thanks go to Bob Moser, Joe King and Sheldon Toombs for their leadership in organizing the course and helping to set the day up. Bob, Joe and our other lead instructors, Jeff Nissle, Rick Stevens and Scott Ziegenfuss did a fabulous job as usual. Special thanks go to Kate Moser (Bob’s daughter) who was up the whole night at her Senior Prom but still managed to tough out the day and help with registration and other activities. Kate has been a helper at our course for more years than I can count and has dutifully answered the phone and diligently conveyed my messages to Bob since she was six. Now twelve years later, she will be attending American University in the fall. We wish her all the best in her studies and I am sure we will see her again. Good luck Katie!

Our last regular meeting of the season featuring Doug Hutzell, President of the Mid-Atlantic Council of the Federation of Fly Fishers, and the Antietam Watershed Restoration Project was a great end to the year. The project, funded by the Federation of Fly Fishers (FFF) and other organizations, is also supported by several Trout Unlimited Chapters, the Chesapeake Bay Foundation, and the Antietam Creek Watershed Association that Doug was instrumental in setting up. This is a national project of FFF that DJL is also proud to support.

At the April meeting we also elected our Officers and Board members. They are as follows: Bob Molzahn- President; Larry Heimes- Vice President; Rick Stevens- Secretary; Treasurer- Joe Vasile; Board Members- Bob Moser Jr., Joe King, Roy Cubbler, Ted Nawalinski, Troy Dunn, Dick Allebach, Ed Nugent, and Sheldon Toombs. Many thanks go to Joe Flather for serving 18 years as our Treasurer. That is dedication! I also want to thank Troy Dunn for stepping up as our Director of Membership (he also picks up the mail at our post office box) and Gail Osbourne for our Director of Refreshments. Troy and Gail have taken a load off my shoulders and I thank them for their participation and support. They are two of the reasons I decided to run for my fifth term as President. The only other job that is still available and I would like to shed is the Director of the Video/Reference Library. This takes about 45 minutes per month during the September through April meeting season. However, you need to store a trunk full of videos, bring it to the meeting each month and pick up videos dropped off at French Creek Outfitters. If you are interested, please contact me at frenchcreek@email.djlflyfishers.org or at 610-524-1911.

Coming on July 21-25 is the Kimberton Fire Company Fair. Mark these days on your calendar. If you can spare a few hours on one of these dates you can help DJL in securing a rent-free meeting space for the year. A few hours in taking parking donations at the Fair can help us improve our bottom line and provide more support for activities that support our watersheds, conservation and fly fishing education and the improvement of fly fishing opportunities in our region. If you would like to help out for an hour or two contact me at the email and phone number above. It is fun and we get fed too. In fact, drop your family off at the Fair and help us out. We had a blast last year...I hope to see you there!

Last but not least, stream improvement projects are coming up this summer so please plan on coming out...more on this from Larry Heimes. Tight lines...I hope to see you on-stream...

Mark your calendars!

The following are the scheduled workdays for this summer’s stream improvement program. As usual we will work from 8:00 am to 11:00 am and lunch will be provided by the club. Additional information and reminders will be sent out via postcards and e-mail prior to each work day. 

This summer we will be performing maintenance on several existing deflectors and continuing our bank stabilization project started in the summer of 2002.

Work Day 1 Saturday, June 26, Deflector Maintenance
Work Day 2 Saturday, July 24, Bank Stabilization
Work Day 3 Saturday, August 28, Bank Stabilization
Work Day 4 Saturday, September 18, TBD

If you would like to sign up in advance you can e-mail me at waltmich@erols.com or give me a call at 215-513-7299.

It can easily be said that each and every angler has at one time wondered why fish do not see the hook. If we go back through time to our bait fishing years, we always tried to hide the hook. A size 20 hook was hidden inside a wax worm or mealworm, and a 3/0 saltwater hook was buried in a strip of squid. So why is it then that we rarely hide the hook on our flies? Surely trout have to see a piece of metal hanging down from an unnatural fly, right? Wrong! While there is no scientific evidence on my part, I have made some conclusions from recent human studies that were on the news.

A group of scientists held a small experiment involving about thirty participants. The participants were asked to watch a video of a couple people tossing a basketball to each other. The participants were then told to count the number of times the ball was tossed. About midway through the tape, a “gorilla” walked right thought the screen. The tape concluded and the scientists asked the group if they had seen anything peculiar in the video. Out of thirty people only a few raised their hand. 

Now how does this relate to fly-fishing? Well it is likely that fish concentrate so much on finding food that they do not see the hook. After all, if humans can’t see a gorilla how is a fish with a pea sized brain supposed to see a hook. On occasion a fish will see the hook and refuse your offering much like the few people who had seen the gorilla.

I am sure some people will say this is a bunch of BS, so here is a more accepted theory. For this theory let’s look at just trout. Trout are for the most part opportunistic feeders. When food presents itself, they feed. They try not to expend much energy to get their food as well. Swimming ten feet to catch a tiny trico nymph or midge larva is not worth it. Rather they sit in a small area and wait for food to come to them.

After recently watching some underwater photography at the March meeting, it is plain to see that fish often mistake debris for food. The speaker believed that trout eat only one invertebrate for every 3 or 4 takes. If a trout mistakes a twig for food 3 out of 4 times how is that fish supposed to distinguish an artificial fly with a hook from the real thing? Many times trout take in leaves, twigs, and stones, so it is no wonder that they take our small metallic offerings.

Take this for what it is, a bunch of rambling from a fellow fisherman. Is it true? Well unless someone can speak trout, I doubt we will ever know for sure. I do hope this sheds some light on the matter though.²

Editor’s note: As a result of Don Kelly’s article, I contacted Dr. Colin Kageyama to see what his response would be. Kaageyama is the author of the book reviewed in the last issue of Streamside, What Fish See.

The question is: Live bait fishers always imbed the hook inside the worm, minnow, or piece of squid, in order to hide it from the fish. Fly fishers do not worry about hiding the hook and just let it sort of "dangle" out there. Do fish see a hook on an artificial lure, and does the fact that the hook is visible or hidden make a difference? 

Answer: The initial statement is not exactly true. Steelhead and salmon fisherman using roe or prawns, usually attach the bait to the hook with a loop of line, leaving the hook fully exposed. Lure fisherman using jigs, spinners, and plugs, always leave the hook exposed. 

Why? Movement... either moving water or moving lure, make the need to cover the hook a non-issue. Stream fishing, trolling, or slow retrieve fall into this area.

Fish that have never been hooked... such as migratory steelhead or salmon... or native fish in isolated areas, have no fear of a hook, making covering of the hook unimportant.

"Planters" or "catch and release" fish become more aware of the presence of a hook. Still fishing in lakes with bait, for planted trout, will probably be the area where covering the tip of the hook will make the biggest difference.

Since fly fishers will have movement in their lure, the hook being exposed is unimportant. Added to this is the factor that the hooks are usually dark and similar in color to the fly. 

Hope you find this information useful. Best wishes, Dr. K

A contingent of DJL members turned out for the annual “Trout Show” sponsored by Valley Forge Trout Unlimited on Thursday, March 25. The group was led by President Bob Molzahn. Prizes galore were up for grabs by those willing to part with the dollars required to purchase tickets. Top prize in the main drawing was a seven piece Orvis Trident fly rod. Dozens of other prizes were offered, and DJL member Joe King walked out with a suitcase full of fishing gear and party lights. There is some suspicion that he printed the winning tickets as the numbers were being called. DJL’s information table received considerable notice. The event was held at Valley Forge Middle School, and several attendees were heard to mention that the crowd seemed to be down a bit from previous years.

Dick Allebach is involved in several phases of fishing. He is a master fly tier. Often, his flies become part of his fishing art work. He is one of the founding members of DJL and is very active with the club, serving on the board of directors. He also spends lots of time applying his skill on local waterways enjoying the challenge of both trout and bass fishing. As part owner of a camp in Maine, he is able to fish there as well as here in Pa. and in Montana. Dick is a retired public school teacher. He and his wife, Gail, have three daughters and six grandchildren.

I talk to a lot of flyrod-toting guys who say, "I'd like to try saltwater sometime, but . . . “The reasons why it hasn't happened vary, and I was there once too. I grew up fishing freshwater, bass and sunnies, picked up a fly rod along the way, discovered trout fishing, and began calling myself a fly fisherman. Like many significant turning points in life, I became hooked on the saltwater game partially by chance, as I stumbled onto an outstanding bluefish and weakfish bite in a Jersey shore tidal river one day in May some years back. My predominant memories of that day, besides the sheer amazement of "this can actually happen,” are how incredibly strong even a 3 pound bluefish is, and that seeing your backing knot disappear through your rod guides always makes you question how well you really know how to tie a nail knot. Saltwater fish live in a tough neighborhood, eat or be eaten is their daily mantra in a way that freshwater fish just can't comprehend, and the fight they put up reflects this. I still fish for trout and all the other freshwater species, but the pursuit of saltwater species has made me a better observer and angler than I ever would have become in freshwater alone. 

Interested in taking the plunge? Go for it, there's no time like right now. Literally right now in this case; striped bass, bluefish, and weakfish action is heating up at the Jersey shore as I write this on May 3, 2004. I wade-fished Sandy Hook the other day, got into some stripers up to about 12 pounds, was bitten off by bluefish on two consecutive casts, nearly got swamped by a cargo ship wake, landed a number of foul hooked horseshoe crabs, and discovered that my waders leak in not one, but many places (not all the news is good). Fly fishing the salt is not difficult; it's just different than throwing flies to trout. Read on, there are three steps involved in making the transition to saltwater: what, where/when, and how. 

First off, you need to switch mental gears in a big way. Trout tend to be easy to find (unless you live in Mississippi) and hard to catch. As long as there are trout in the water, there's no problem putting a fly in front of them, it's all about fooling the finicky little buggers. Switch the venue to saltwater however, and that concept changes in a hurry. The saltwater game fish that inhabit the mid-Atlantic region are typically not that hard to dupe. That's not true of all saltwater fish, permit in particular come to mind. But we're talking the local inshore attractions here: striped bass, bluefish, and weakfish. The far bigger issue is getting your fly within a couple miles of the fish in the first place. The ocean is a big place and most of it is a biological desert. So, step number one is to forget the gory details regarding IMgreatest graphite, compound leader designs, and bleached biot fly bodies, and figure out where and when in the ocean you can present a fly to something besides acres of fishless water. I have to give credit here to my friend Charlie Lake and his fine slide presentation, "How to Find Acres of Fishless Open Water". Check it out at a fly show near you. After that, learn everything you can about the coastal environment, the interaction of weather, moon phases, and tides, and the fish themselves. Develop theories as to why game fish should be feeding in a certain location at a particular time under specified conditions, test the theory, revise as needed, and take it from there. Go slowly, observe intently, and try to learn from everything that happens on the water, good or bad.

Step two: when and where. Around here (MD to NY), saltwater game fish are seasonably abundant from late April to as late as December. May and October-November are typically the prime times. Ever notice how all fishing is best during the spring and fall? Game fish move; they enter bays, estuaries, rivers, and other backwater venues when the water temperatures are favorable, and there are things to eat or perhaps mating to done when they get there. That typically means spring and fall around here. During the summer, game fish are more abundant in the ocean, around inlets, or in large estuaries; backwaters get too warm. During the winter, mid-Atlantic saltwater game fish basically disappear except for a few select locations, like warm water outflows at power plants. 

In any event, don't head down to the shore in February. Aside from that, saltwater game fish are like all other fish (and some other critters I know). They want to eat but avoid being eaten, they need to feel safe, and they want to have sex. Probably not in the order either. Most of their behaviors are driven by these urges. 

At first glance, the ocean often seems to be a (very) large static body of water. A closer look reveals more. The rise and fall of the tide drives all things fishy in saltwater (other key factors include weather conditions, light intensity, and dumb luck). Visit Barnegat Inlet on a falling moon tide and you’ll see a massive volume of water plowing out to sea at an alarming rate of speed. The significance of tidal movement in inshore saltwater fishing simply cannot be overstated. All other things being equal, fishing will almost always be better in moving water than at slack tide. 

To find saltwater game fish, locate concentrations of the things they eat. Bait attracts predators, so find the bait and your quarry is likely to be lurking nearby. Large schools of baitfish are the obvious big-ticket item, with things like shrimp and crabs filling in the cracks here and there. Baitfish congregates in places where they can readily feed, most often where the water moves. Baitfish eats things like plankton that are suspended in the water, and moving water delivers dinner. Being larger and stronger than baitfish, predators have the advantage of being more able swimmers in moving water. This fact is not lost on them, and game fish often feed voraciously while the tide is running and (maddeningly) stop altogether when the tide goes slack. 

Another generality than most often holds true: fishing is better in low light than in bright light. This is really important with striped bass, fairly important with weakfish, and less important with bluefish. Sure, you’ll find schools of stripers mauling schools of bunker during the middle of the day sometimes, but the odds typically tip more in your favor at dawn, dusk, or in the dead of night. 

In summary, do the following to increase your odds of encountering saltwater game fish: look for baitfish; visit the shore in spring or fall, on an overcast day or at dawn, dusk, or at night; concentrate your efforts in areas where the tides move water; and start chumming around with experienced salty flyrodders. 

Time to gear up, your trout gear is useless in the salt, leave it at home. You’ll need a bonafide saltwater rig. Keep it simple. I advise that you use the largest line weight gear that you can easily handle for extended periods of time. For some people it’s a 10 weight, others an 8, and others, a 12. I often see a particular woman fly casting at Sandy Hook. She has good mechanics and obviously knows her way around a fly rod, but her rig appears to be too heavy for her upper body strength, and she is unable to generate the line speed required to cast “way out there.” Typically, larger line weights mean more casting distance, better line control at distance, and the ability to throw bigger flies. For years I used a fast action 10 weight rod and liked it. I recently decided to try out 11 and 12 weight two-handed rods, and the results were striking, much better overall command of the water. Rods less than 8 weight are not suitable for saltwater fishing around here. Since, faster action rods are where you will end up, the best bet is to buy one off the bat. 

Match the rod with a single action reel capable of holding 150 yards of 30 lb backing plus fly line. Some people say you need more backing than that, but 150 yards is a really long distance to be separated from your hooked fish. Buy a weight forward intermediate (slow sinking) line to match the rod’s action. Floaters and fast sinkers have their place in the salt, but intermediates get more use by far. A saltwater rig can get expensive but doesn’t need to be. The following is a list of the least expensive, good quality gear that I’ve found. There are undoubtedly many others: rods: Cabelas FT or SLi models, Temple Forks Outfitters, and Orivs Clearwater. For reels (this can really get expensive): Okuma Integrity (great reel for the money, just be sure to rinse it well every time its fished), Reddington (especially the Breakwater model), and for the real economy-minded, the largest sized Pflueger Medalist. Lines typically cost $60, but I’ve taken a shine to the Cortland 333 saltwater intermediate, a real buy at $28. If you shop around, you can get a highly usable rig for under $400 (TFO rod, Okuma reel, Cortland 333 line, and backing). Or if money is no object, you can spend a lot more than that, knock yourself out. 

Get your outfit rigged up and practice casting. Pay special attention to the knots you use to rig up. They’ll be taking a lot more strain than the ones on your 5 weight. You don’t have to cast 100 feet to catch saltwater fish, but it definitely helps and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Learn to double haul, and learn to shoot line backward and forward. This won’t happen overnight, but it will happen if you watch good casters do their thing, watch instructional casting videos, take an advanced casting class, learn how to deal with wind, and practice. You’ll also notice how much better you can lay out 35 feet on a trout stream after you learn how to throw a ten weight to 80 feet. It’s all about generating line speed. 

Buy, beg, or make a stripping basket. They are a pain in the butt but you will be lost without one; 80 feet of line tangled around your feet does not make for a smooth, effortless casting stroke. The best baskets are stiff plastic, do not have holes in the bottom, and have some sort of upright columnar objects inside to prevent line from tangling. Orvis and LL Bean make good ones, or go with the large size Rubbermaid dish tub and rig it up yourself. Collapsible mesh baskets appear to be pretty useless. 

Bootfoot waders are much preferred in the salt as you don’t have to deal with wading boots filling up with sand. On the water, it’s a bigger issue than it sounds like as you sit in an easy chair and read this. Get a pair of stainless steel saltwater pliers that have a small diameter nose and cutters for heavy mono. I stuck with hemostats and nippers for quite a while, until I got tired of them turning into useless corroded relics. For leaders, I tie my own out of clear Maxima: 30 lb butt, 20 lb mid-section, and 15 lb tippet. This habit is a throw back from my days as a freshwater only angler. Some very knowledgeable and well known salty flyguys use 6 feet of 20 lb. No fooling around there. 

I’ve left flies for last as I firmly believe they are one of, if not the, least important factors in the whole equation. I tie enthusiastically and have accumulated many boxes of flies that don’t get used. Don’t go there. Here’s what I fish 90% of the time; in sizes 4 to 2/0, they cover the water column from bottom to top. The Clouser minnow may be the greatest fly ever invented, I use chartreuse over white or all black. Get or tie different sizes and probably more importantly, different weights. Lefty’s Deceiver is another fish-catching fly, but I can’t seem to tie ones that don’t foul. I’ve found a suitable replacement for deceivers in a fly known as the Semper Flye, popularized in Bob Popovics' great book, Pop Flyes. The Semper Fly has become my "go to" fly and is basically a saltwater woolly bugger (that explains a lot). The color schemes I employ are pretty basic; all white for daytime, and all black for low light. OK, very basic. My third go-to fly is a slider bug, tied with a long saddle hackle tail and spun deer hair head. For slider bugs, I go slightly more crazy on the color schemes, I tie yellow ones in addition to the blacks and whites. That’s it. I have other flies and use them sometimes. But day in and day out, it's hard to beat the three patterns mentioned above. 

Let's go fishing. We select a day in spring or fall, based on favorable weather conditions (casting into a 20 knot headwind pretty much reeks), favorable tides (moving, not slack), low light conditions, and hopefully the reported presence of game fish in our selected location. Let's say we go to the beach south of Manasquan Inlet to fish the ocean-side beach. Upon arriving, we look for: 1) obvious fish activity such as all-out blitzes, or failing that 2) obvious concentrations of baitfish, or failing that, 3) structure that has current associated with it, or failing that, 4) we rethink why we came here in the first place. Structure could be points, jetties, holes, rock piles, channels, cuts, or whatever. We see no blitzes or bait schools, so we select a point on the beach that is within casting range of a visible deep slot. We'll fish in and around the slot with subsurface flies, and if no action occurs within 10 minutes, we'll move on. This habit is key, lack of strikes and no evidence of fish activity usually means lack of fish, not the wrong fly or presentation. This hit and run approach strongly contrasts with the trout anglers habit of standing in one place for long periods of time, casting to a particularly difficult and pined-for riser. Repeat after me, "I hereby agree to cast and move as needed until I hit a fish.” 

Our next spot is a medium sized jetty that has a rip developing at the tip due to the tide that is starting to flow out of the inlet. Again there are no signs of game fish, but there are a few silversides hanging around the rocks. We'll cast upstream of the rip and allow Clousers to swing deep through the moving water, making sure to work our flies along the rip line where moving water meets still water for as long as possible. As we cast, we see the obvious swirl of a striper sucking down a silverside in the rip. We'll grant this spot more than 10 fishless minutes as we now have confirmation of bait and game fish in the area. We'll try varied retrieves, starting with a tight line swing with no retrieve and progressing through fast strips. When 10 fishless minutes go by, we'll change over to heavier Clouser minnows, mend line to get the fly deeper, and begin fishing tight line swings again. Our line comes tight, and we set up into a schoolie bass; skunk evaded! 

What we did right was: 1) not spending too much time fishing an area devoid of signs of life, 2) spending extra time fishing an area where bait and game fish were known to be present, and 3) changing our presentation (deeper, in this case) when we knew that bait and game fish were present but we weren't getting bites. And so it goes. There are infinite varieties of this scenario. Sometimes you hook up on your first blind cast into blank looking water, and sometimes you can't buy a hit during an all-out blitz. I've seen both of these situations come to pass and lots of occasions that fall in between these extremes. While the saltwater game is different from freshwater trout fishing, you're still fly fishing, feeling a fish throb against the line held in your hand (and possible burning your fingers and bruising your knuckles in the process). There are failures to endure, successes to relish, blunders to make, lots to learn, and its all good stuff. 

This article represents the tiniest infinitesimal tip of the iceberg that is saltwater fly fishing, but additional good information is out there in droves. Expand your knowledge base by reading the excellent saltwater fly fishing books by Lefty Kreh, Ed Mitchell, and Lou Tabory, visit internet sites such as stripersurf.com and stripersonline.com, get a tide and moon chart for the areas you fish (saltwatertides.com is a good source), and rub shoulders with guys you see hooking fish. Fly fishing the salt has expanded my angling horizons in a big way. I'm glad I took the step and I think you will be too. For the next installment of this series (if the editors will have me), I'll put together of list of saltwater fly fishing tips that I've found useful. Here's a preview - always mash down the barbs on your hooks to facilitate painless catch and release of yourself and fellow fishermen. I hope Jeff is reading this. Until next time, I wish you all tight lines and the absence of skunks.

Well this is the time of the year when I zip up the gun cases and uncase the fly rods. 

So begins the ritual of making the transition from one sport to another while waiting for the new season to open. Part of my ritual over the years has been the laying to rest of my old fishing license as I add it to an ever-growing pile inside an old tin cookie container. 

This year has been no different, but after all these years of just tossing the old license in the box, I decided to sit down and sift through all the paper I had collected. What a pleasant journey followed!

There down among the other Pennsylvania licenses was my first as a resident, 1995. It also happened to be my first as a fly fisherman. That year, I taught myself how to throw a fly on the Yellow Breeches in Boiling Springs. Little did I know when I bought a house a short two miles from the stream that I would end up spending hours upon hours chasing fish away, tripping on submerged rocks, and losing flies in trees behind me. As a born and raised spin fisherman, all the trouble I ever knew lay in front of me. What a pain it was to worry about both my front and my back! Twice during that Summer I almost threw my beginner outfit into the water, but I kept coming back. Thankfully I did, as near the end of that first season, I managed to land a beautiful 22 Brown from the depths of the Yellow Breeches. 

And there were a few non-resident licenses from a few “once in a lifetime” trips out west, Montana and Idaho. The latter was my first float trip, a grand 17-mile all-day float down the Snake River with a business colleague. My God, what a way to be initiated into the world of guided float trips. Seeing the license brought back memories of the enormity of the river, the bald eagle soaring overhead and the sight of a 17-inch cutthroat drifting up like shadows to take a hopper imitation thrown a mere foot from the shore. Our guide said “it’s got to be close, at this time of year; they spend their time looking at the shore waiting for the hoppers to fall in.” And so we did, and what a trip.

As I sifted further, there were the ticket stubs of the last time my dad and I went out “deep sea” fishing from Atlantic Highlands, New Jersey. We spent the day searching for ling and managed to bring home about a dozen. They were great eating, the day was great, a slight breeze and occasional sun. A father and son outing, and it was our last. But I can still see him bending over the rail, jigging his line and watching where the line entered the water, feeling and looking for any sign of the nimble bite of the quiet, easy fish. Pictures are good, but sometimes, memories are better, and in this case it is true.

And there among the many colored licenses and signed trout stamps, was my license from 2000. That was the first year my 7-year-old twins went fishing with me to French Creek. I took them on separate days as their desire determined, and they were happy throwing an in-line spinner and trying to retrieve it as I toiled away a little downstream with a pheasant tail. 
My fishing diary shows that no fish were caught during the two hours I spent with each, Chris and Eric, but we did have fun. Eric said, “Dad, I know I had at least 10 bites,” and Chris, “I felt it pull dad, I know I had it, but it just jumped off!” You have to love their enthusiasm, and like spending time with my dad, it was a wonderful couple of hours on their first trout stream, and time that I know will be repeated, as they get older.

Deeper still in the pile, which shares the stack with hunting licenses, was the Florida Dept. of Natural Resources guidebook of fishing. A colorful multi-panel job that has great artwork of all the fresh and salt water species and all the little text of the various rules and regulations sports fisherman must follow in the Sunshine State. I was quickly dispatched to my one-day flats fishing near Key Largo. It was my first in salt water, just me and the guide and his 22-foot guide boat with a poling tower over the engine. The plan was to fish for three species: Snook, bonefish, and red fish. The guide did his duty; put me on each fish and I had multiple opportunities to hook each species. I did feel the heft of the fish a few times, but none stayed on the line and I went home empty handed. But catching fish was such a small part of this all day outing. I’m still amazed about the experience, poling around enormous flats in three feet of water, seeing bonnet sharks tail away when we scared them, and the abundant colors of coral and sea life. Sure, bringing a hooked fish to the boat would have been great, and maybe I get back there someday. But this was a fishing trip beyond fishing. 

Soon, my oldest son Matthew will start collecting licenses and we’ll add them to my growing pile. And his two younger brothers will follow suit as well. Each time I placed another license in the tin, I wondered why I was doing it. On the surface it was interesting to see the changes in the licenses themselves and to catalog the changing artwork of the trout stamps. They are an interesting collection themselves. But the licenses are so much more than paper and stamps and a blurry signature across their face. 

These licenses have become a collection of my own history. They helped to add meaning to the small collection of photos I have. Pictures don’t and can’t capture everything. Licenses have a way of capturing a small bit of personal history like no other item. So the small tin on the shelf holds a lifetime of memories and milestones. These are things worthy of a rainy day. 

March 13, 2004 was a typical March day; sunny, chilly, with a bit of a breeze. I arrived at Sheeder Mill Bridge about 15 minutes after noon. Joe King was already there, and so were a few others, waiting to begin the task of helping to stock the FFO portion of French Creek with trout. As the afternoon wore on, several other DJL members arrived, including Lori and Peggy Bonis, and Ed Nugent, and we all waited for the truck. Other DJL members may have been at other locations, but I did not meet up with them. 

Larry Heimes called to let Joe know that the truck would be at our position in 20 minutes. Joe began to make assignments as to who would go where and do what. I, Joe, Dave Hamraham and a gentleman from Philadelphia would handle the float box and stock from the bridge up to the bend at Pughtown Road. Finally the truck arrived. We were in the water holding the box, and people brought down eight buckets of trout (25 to a bucket) to fill our float. Several of the trout seemed to be in extremis, but the rest were eager to be relocated into their new surroundings. 

Once we began the trek, Joe noticed that Dave, I and the Philly guy were having a bit of trouble staying vertical, so he recommended we grab a couple of stout branches to use as wading sticks. We did so, and things were better as a result. The next time I enter the stream, I will have felt soles on. The man from Philly had to stop a few times to pull up his waders, and Joe allowed as how he should have bought suspenders when he bought the waders. The fellow pointed out that he was new to fishing, and was still learning. Joe handled the back of the float by himself. Dave and “Philadelphia” held the front, and I plied the net. We moved cautiously, and Joe determined where each group of trout should be placed. At several stops, Dave picked out a trout that seemed to be having difficulty, and held the fish in the creek until he seemed to be somewhat revived. I hope they made it. 

“Net that 22-inch brownie and put him near that rock,” said Joe King.

The largest fish in our float was a 22 inch brownie, and Joe told me to net him and put him near a specific rock. That baby will probably have several opportunities in the future to rise to one of Joe’s flies. The rest of the trout, including a beautiful rainbow and a palamino, were dropped off as we moved along the stream.

Upon arriving at the bend with an empty float, we found Ed Nugent waiting for us. He drove Joe back to Sheeder Mill Bridge where Joe picked up his van and came back to take the rest of us back to our vehicles. Later, I stopped to help Larry put the float on the roof of his vehicle. It was only my second time stocking, but it was a learning experience and another enjoyable day on French Creek. It was interesting to note the number of individuals who were in the stream fishing. Was that coincidence? I don’t think so. We discussed whether the state should put a 24 hour moratorium on fishing on the day that stocking takes place, but there were several schools of thought on that. What do you think?

We welcome the following new members. Our League consists of individuals who love our sport and we work hard to ensure its future. We hope that you will be an active participant in many of the group's programs.

Desi Baker, Mike Costello, Gabriel Frank, Stewart Maloney, Michael Pennypaker, William Rantanen, Kristy Dempsey, Stephen DeRafelo, Timothy King, Peter Oksala, Daniel Pisano, Jack Waters, Joseph Marshall and Family, and Michael, Judith and C.J. Nyquist.