Kern River Region Trout

The source of the Kern River of California is in a great mountain amphitheater about 12 miles in diameter, lying mostly above timberline at an elevation of more than 11,000 ft. above the sea. In this amphitheater are scores of lakes in depressions scooped out by long-vanished glaciers. From these lakes emerge numerous streams which either flow into the headwaters of the Kern, or fall over the lofty rim of its great canyon.

Most of the lakes and streams have been stocked with various species of trout. The golden trout, indigenous to the area, is the most abundant. Next comes the Kern River rainbow, also native to those parts. Less plentiful is the Eastern brook trout. These trout are occasionally found in waters at even greater elevation than 12,000 ft. The golden trout especially does well at high altitudes.

The trout of the streams all average about pan size, with occasional larger specimens. Commonly the golden trout of the higher elevations give way rather abruptly to the rainbow, sometimes at 10,000 ft., though 8,000 ft. elevation usually is the dividing line in the southern Sierra Nevada Mountains. In some streams, notably: Tyndall Creek and tributaries, the Eastern brook trout is found in association with the goldens.

The trout average much larger size in the lakes. Golden trout 16 in. long are often caught in them. There are occasional 18-inchers and sometimes a specimen of 20 in. or more. The largest that I know of was caught some years ago in Wales Lake, at an altitude of 11,712 ft. It weighed 8 lb. The goldens in that lake have gone down into its outlet to spawn, and since waterfalls prevent their return, Wales is now thought to be barren of trout. The like has happened a number of times in Sierra lakes. Screening outlets appears to be the only remedy.

Golden trout do well in a number of lakes of this immediate region, notably Lake South America, on the headwaters of the Kern, at an elevation of 12,000 ft. They also have been planted in Lake Tulainyo, occupying a depression on the very crest of the Sierra, 12,865 ft. above sea level. It is known that they survived there for several years at least. Whether they still are there does not seem to be known.

Rainbows in the lakes of the region run up to at least 18 in. Some of these lakes are small, and lie at high altitudes in the bleakest of surroundings. One of these, a mere tarn, is a stone's throw from Shepherd Pass. A great snow bank is there throughout the summer. This little lake has numerous rainbows, some of which go up to 18 in. or more. The Eastern brook trout does well in some of the lakes at the headwaters of Tyndall Creek.

Since both lakes and streams at the headwaters of the Kern either are above timberline, or are bordered by very open stands of pine and shrubbery, or by an occasional willow thicket, they are a delight to the fly caster. The angler can do well on them using the fly only. The possible exception would be in the case of the largest trout in the high lakes, where a spinner or similar lure may prove the more taking. Many of the larger trout, however, take the fly if it is presented properly.

The goldens of the higher lakes are reputed to be temperamental. However, it is seldom that they won't take the fly at some time during the day, most frequently in morning and evening. Fly fishing for rainbows in these high lakes is sometimes exceptionally fine. The Eastern brook trout in some of the streams gives fascinating fly fishing.

The high passes by which only, except from the south, the Kern River amphitheater may be reached, usually can't be traveled by riding and pack horses before the first of July. These passes also may be blocked by snow in the latter part of September. Thus fishing in these high lakes and streams is confined to summer and early autumn. Some of the higher lakes are not free of ice until well into July.

Due to its undulating and open character, the terrain up there is very easily traversed by sportsmen traveling either afoot or on horseback. During the summer months it makes a delightful camping area. While back-packers sometimes enter this region, it is best to lead pack animals, if you walk, or else have both riding and pack stock.

http://www.kernriverflyfishing.com/trips.htm

Mackerel on Light Gear

Whether I'm fishing for tarpon or tomcod, I seldom pay any attention to the antics of bathers, picnickers, or shell collectors. My wife tells friends that the nibbles of an eel would make me ignore an exploding grenade.

But a few years ago, while black-fishing from a bluff on a stretch of rocky Rhode Island shore, I was distracted by a lady who appeared below me carrying two items which didn't seem to belong together: an artist's easel and a large wooden bucket.

Placing the easel on a boulder, the lady lugged the bucket to the edge of the water and ladled out half a dozen scoops of thick liquid into the sea. Returning to her easel, she painted for some minutes and then paused to dipper out some more of the liquid. It looked as though she were chumming, but if so, why wasn't she carrying fishing tackle? After about half an hour of this dippering-painting routine, I felt that I must get to the bottom of the mystery. I reeled in and made my way over to where she was.

"Yes, I'm chumming," the lady told me. "But for my husband, not for myself. He's fishing the cove around the bend below us. When tides and winds are right, as they are today, currents sweep the chum into that cove and mackerel often follow it in. I don't care for fishing myself, but I don't mind helping my husband while I'm dabbling with seascapes."

"I'll walk down to the cove and see how he's making out," I said.

Climbing down the steep, winding path which led to the cove, I found a most happy man. He had a good fish on the end of his whippy bait-casting rod, and judging from the boils near the end of the reef, there were plenty more where that one had come from. Obviously, the unique chumming operation was paying off.

He played his fish carefully, allowing the fish to run without too much rein until its strength had been exhausted. Then, reeling steadily, he worked his prize closer in, and finally, with a long reaching net, scooped in a 3-lb. mackerel.

"Say, that's a beauty," I exclaimed. "Yes, they're running good size this fall," he replied.

He looked at my tackle and noticed that I was carrying a bait-casting outfit not much heavier than his.

"Why don't you replace that bottom rig with a spinner and join me?" he invited.

"There's plenty of room on this reef and I'd be glad to loan you one of my spinners."

"Thanks, I'd like to, but I have a little box of lures in my bag. I always carry them this time of year in case a school of mackerel suddenly shows up."

It took me just a moment to snip off my light black-fishing rig and attach a yard of nylon leader and a bead-chain snap swivel. Instead of a twin-bladed spinner such as my new-found friend was using, I decided to try a shiny, 1oz. wobbling spoon.

By the time I was ready to cast, some of the mackerel had moved in closer. A silvery horde of small baitfish had also moved into the chum slicks making the area doubly attractive to the mackerel. Some of the little fellows brushing over the surface like hard flung pebbles, had retreated almost to the inner edge of the cove where they were comparatively safe. Only on rare occasions have I seen the deep-running mackerel enter depths less than 4 ft.

I brought back my rod, took aim, and cast out beyond the edge of the cove. Letting the lure settle about 2 ft., I gave it a hard twitch for extra flash, and then, holding the rod at a side angle of about 45˚, I reeled in fast.

A few moments later, I had a swift, slashing strike that made my line come taut as a fiddle string. The mackerel shook his head, flipped his tail, and then began racing toward open water.

It was a heavy-throttle run of more than 100 ft. When it ended, the fish dropped a little deeper, bolted to the side, and threw his weight recklessly against the line as he launched into a number of shorter runs. I could predict each time he was ready to turn by the way he flung himself against the line. One reason mackerel are such fast moving fish, is that they are among the few fish which lack air bladders to keep them buoyant.

When the mackerel finally began to show signs of tiring, I kept him off balance by dropping and raising the point of my rod from a side angle. In easy stages I began putting on greater pressure until, after about 10 minutes, I had the blue-and-silver warrior close enough for netting. He was about the same size as the one I'd seen my companion land, possibly an ounce or two heavier.

The school hovered around for almost an hour, and by the time it moved out, I had four more on my stringer-a nice haul of fish that taste as good as they fight.

It's not surprising that the Atlantic mackerel is such a little package of dynamite at the end of a light rod. He can claim relationship with some of the finest gamefish that swim: tuna, wahoo, bonito, albacore, cobia, and even swordfish and marlin. Of more direct kinship are the Spanish and king mackerel of warmer Atlantic waters, and the hard hitting Pacific mackerel.

How to Catch Panfish

Of all the fresh-water fishes, yellow perch and bluegills are probably accountable for more pleasurable hours of fishing than any others. Of course those deriving this pleasure are not the rabid trout and bass fishermen, but the large numbers of anglers who fish mostly for relaxation and for food, and who are satisfied to associate with the lesser lights of fishing society.

Generally speaking, perch and bluegills are easy to catch, except when it comes to getting big ones. Because of this, people who fish for them are often looked upon by trout and bass anglers as lowbrow fishermen.

The odd thing about this is that many of the anglers who don't do so well with trout and bass are the ones who are most likely to act superior toward the pan-fisherman. And while they may themselves have an urge to catch some of these common fish, they don't give it a try because they're afraid of being scorned by the elite, the stars of the trout and bass world.

In my opinion fishing should not be competitive or comparative. Rather, it should be contemplative - a sport to build up your soul and refresh your mind. So that after a day or more on a lake or stream you can go back to the job of making a living with renewed vigor and new ideas.

For this purpose panfish serve just as well as the more popular gamefishes. If you get skillful enough to locate and fool large perch or bluegill, you can feel just as proud as the angler who catches a two-pound trout in water where a pound fish is considered big.

Yellow perch were once restricted to southern Canada, New England, and the northern Midwest states. Now, as the result of stocking, they're found in all states. Since they're wolfish killers of other fish - to the limit of their size and physical powers - these perch are seldom protected by closed seasons and bag limits.

While yellow perch prefer a diet of minnows or other small fish, they also feed on, insects and crustaceans. With an adequate food supply they may run to a good size and sometimes be rather difficult to catch. However, it's rare to find them running better than about half a pound. Under ideal conditions they can grow to a weight of four pounds or more, but if you ever catch a two-pounder or better, you're entitled to a little bragging.

As a rule, yellow perch are found in large quiet streams and in ponds and lakes. Their tendency is to seek deep water, even to 30 feet or more, although the smaller ones usually stay in the shallows near vegetation. However, I've caught large ones while trolling in shallow water for bass and pickerel.

Good spots to try are areas off weed beds where the water breaks abruptly to greater depth and to a bottom of gravel, rock, or sand. It also pays to investigate water of good depth near pilings, docks, bridges, etc. Large perch will usually be in the vicinity of forage fish, or where they can grab the unprotected fry of bass and other gamefishes.

Perch schools usually number from one to three dozen fish. In each group the size of the individual fish will be fairly uniform, any difference of more than two inches in length between the largest and the smallest being uncommon. Perch are spring spawners; sometimes spent females are observed before winter ice has disappeared.
One time while fishing a smallmouth bass lake with chub minnows, my companion and I consistently took as many perch as bass, with the perch running heavier. Sometime later, fishing with 5/8-oz. plugs in the same water we took only one large perch to each eight smallmouths. However, we had many misses which I suspected were yellow perch.

I felt sure that the missed strikes were mostly from perch that couldn't handle our bass-size lures. Later on I went back to test this theory. Using smaller minnows and small spinners on a fly rod, I brought my yellow-perch score up to four for each smallmouth. In subsequent experiences with yellow perch, I always did better when using small bait.

Another time a couple of us were fishing for pike in a northeastern lake. Ordinarily pike are ready strikers, but on this occasion we couldn't seem to find them. We searched the depths (some 30 feet of water) and experienced many “bunts,” or a feeling of something tugging at our lures, but we couldn't connect.

Experience told me to try a smaller lure, so I weighted a very small one to get the proper depth. The bunts then became hooked fish - yellow perch averaging about a pound each, with an occasional larger specimen adding an extra thrill.

I've had many pleasant hours of fishing for bluegills with wet flies and nymphs. These fish seem to prefer dull patterns, as a rule, such as March Brown, Blue Dun or Blue Quill, Cahill, Ginger Quill, Alder, and Gold-Rib Hare's Ear. As for hook size, No. 10 has served me best.

Among the fancy flies I have found Alexandra, McGinty or Bee, and Royal Coachman all excellent. Any dull nymph will do. As a rule, fishing the fly slowly with slight jerks is good practice. So is fishing them at different depths. Start by working the fly just beneath the surface, and then gradually let it go deeper before retrieving. Often a split shot above the fly will be needed to get the proper depth.

Among natural baits on a spinning rod, worms top the list, but grubs, beetles, and any other small bait that may be impaled on a hook will do the job. Remember that although these fish are good little scrappers, they have small mouths, so that unless you use small baits and suitable hooks - not larger than No.8 - you'll miss lots of takes.

While you may take bluegills with a rod and reel that you use for bass, the lighter the tackle, the more fun you'll have. I prefer very light fly or spinning tackle. One of my pet bluegill rods is an eight-foot split bamboo weighing two ounces. It's extremely limber, but what fun it gives me when I catch a fish.

Don't overlook perch and bluegills.

Both can provide you with good sport and good eating.

Fishing…How it has Become Our Greatest Sport Part 1

Americans who went fishing in early Colonial times were confirmed believers in the old Indian adage, "The best way to catch fish is to catch fish." Needing fish for food, they didn't care how they got them. Scoop net, seine, jack light, fish trap, hook and line - they used whatever method was most likely to produce the biggest catch in the least time.

But some of them, now and then, would wander off to the nearest stream, cut and trim a sapling, tie a fish-line to its tip, bait the hook with a worm or a maggot, and fish more for the fun of it than for what they caught. They were our first sport fishermen.

Their number increased rapidly as the settlements grew and the stark struggle for survival let up a bit; and long before Paul Revere took his midnight ride - fishing had become the most widely popular of American outdoor pastimes.
It's still the favorite, by the way.

Spectator sports (ball games, racing, and so on) draw huge crowds, but most of the onlookers are repeaters who are counted over and again in the attendance records. In contrast, add to the nearly 91 million fresh-water license holders the millions who don't need licenses to wet a line – children under 18, women in many states and senior citizen generally - and you have an estimated 100 million participants, who spend around 10 billion dollars a year on their sport. Only hunting can ever approach that record!

But to get back to the early days:

Trout were the fresh-water favorites although south of the Potomac the fish called by that name usually were black bass, which weren't given scientific recognition-as a distinct species until 1802. North of the Potomac, or in the mountains south of it, "trout" meant the native brookie. From Nova Scotia southward to Georgia, fast-running streams -cool, crystal-clear, untainted by man's pollution-teemed with these succulent, beautiful game fish.

In addition, the rivers from the St. Lawrence to the Connecticut had big annual runs of Atlantic salmon, and most of them from the St. John in New Brunswick to the St. Johns in Florida had runs of shad-netted in such quantities that sometimes they were sold by the wagonload for fertilizer. Myriads of black bass leaped in the streams and bayous of the South. Immense schools of bluefish, striped bass, weakfish, and other salt-water game fish thronged the bays, and only the inept came home empty-handed.

We can't help envying those old-timers the fishing they could enjoy almost at their doorsteps, but no present day angler would be tempted to break the Tenth Commandment by coveting the tackle they had to use. Its purpose was to yank the fish out of the water, not to give the fisherman a chance to use his skill. The first step in that direction came when the peeled sapling was displaced by a tapered natural cane or reed pole, with the line tied to its tip and wound around it when not in use - a rig we still use today in the South.

Then came the crude rod with wire line guides and a small wooden "wheel," with a frame and handle devised by the local tinsmith, lashed to the butt. More often than not this reel was a thread spool the angler snitched from his wife's workbasket - which is why some Kentuckians still call a reel a "spool."

Long before the colonies got a powder-and-shot divorce from England's King George III thousands of Americans in every walk of life had become sport fishermen, and a small tackle industry had grown up. About halfway through the 1100's, fly fishing for salmon and trout became popular among British landowners, and a few wealthy Americans who visited England brought fly tackle home with them. The rods were long and heavy, but they were a big improvement over ours. American tackle makers copied them, and also adapted them to live-bait fishing and trolling.

The sportiest copies - shaped out of a single piece of red cedar - were whippy and comparatively light, but so weak that only an expert could play a decent size trout without serious risk of breakage. The better lines were of twisted horsehair or silk; the cheaper ones of hemp, flax, or cotton. Silkworm gut was used for leaders, and flies either were imported or copied from English patterns.

President George Washington set his fellow citizens of the new U.S.A. a good example by going fishing. He wasn't a fly caster, but catching striped bass rockfish to him - from a punt anchored on the Potomac River off his home at Mount Vernon was one of his favorite diversions. (More than half of our Presidents, by the way, have been fishermen, and at least three - Cleveland, Hoover, and F. D. Roosevelt - rate as experts.)

Fishing Florida’s East Coast

A recently read an article describing Florida East Coast fishing, but I think that the best spot of all was overlooked.

The place is not widely known, yet it has fine fresh and salt-water fishing, as well as hunting for squirrels and birds. It is about 20 miles north of Daytona Beach, and extends for only a few miles. I have never seen any other part of the coast like it. At some places deep sloughs lie between huge boulders close inshore. You can stand on the barrier, and at some spots even on the highway, and cast into deep water.

One reason why this location is such a rich feeding ground for fish is that the beach is thick with coquinas - small clam like creatures about the size of a thumbnail. The breakers of the incoming tide sweep hundreds of them out of the sand. They disappear into the sand so quickly that it is hard to catch one with the hand, but with a shovel and sand screen you can soon take a gallon, and they make a most delicious stew. I have seen channel bass 4 or 5 ft. long darting through the breakers for them.

Here at practically all seasons of the year you may catch a great variety of fish in such numbers that it almost ceases to be a sport. Even during a northeaster, when the ocean is too muddy for anything but catfish and shark, you have only to drop back a few hundred yards to the inland waterway which has an inlet at Matanzas and another below Daytona at Mosquito Inlet. Schools of speckled trout, bass, and bluefish pass through from inlet to inlet, and may be taken when the weather is too rough for surf fishing. At some places the waterway widens out into shallow lakes where oysters as large as saucers can be gathered with the hands.

On the beach side the variety is even greater. Some people say that pompano cannot be taken with hook and line; however, I have taken them in the surf near Flagler Beach many times, and consider them the gamest fish that ever struck my tackle. In fact, chances are that this fish will put several kinks into your light wire leader, or even break it.

Many nonresidents who visit the vicinity use live shrimp as bait for trout, but I have had just as good luck with cut shrimp, or even the simplest kind of a plug. The natives make plugs out of clothespins. The pin is somewhat flattened and the slot filled with lead. The plug is painted red and white, and a couple of gang hooks are attached. Many times I've seen trout strike such a plug when they would pass up a live shrimp.

Cut shrimp are used for whiting and bluefish, though I have caught plenty of the latter with nothing but a piece of red cloth on the naked hook. Cut mullet are used for channel bass, which are especially plentiful in the fall of the year. During one flood tide in the vicinity of the boulders mentioned above, I took five channel bass without moving 50 ft. The smallest weighed 20 lb. The next day at the same spot I hooked a tarpon. There wasn't room among the boulders to play that fish on my light tackle, so I lost the monster.

As for flounders and sheepheads, they are so abundant among the boulders that the natives make a business of snagging them on pitchforks, which are jabbed into the bottom around the inshore boulders at low tide.

The day before I returned home, I decided to corn some whiting. Taking a large tub and 2 lb. of shrimp in my car, I drove up the beach about half a mile on the highway which parallels the barrier. I fished back along the beach until I had taken a bucketful of whiting. I took these to the car, emptied them into the tub, and repeated this until I had fished about 3 miles of the beach. By noon, with that 2 lb. of shrimp I had taken 85 lb. of whiting, and a black drum weighing 8 lb.

Get a Line on the Sunfish

Panfish are a bonus to a vast number of Americans who appreciate them. But they're also passed up by anglers who haven't discovered their sporting qualities and thus miss a lot of extra fun.

When panfish are present in a body of water they're usually plentiful, although their size sometimes is unsatisfactory. They are willing biters, and when feeding will readily take natural or artificial baits. Hence they can be a challenge to fly-rod fisherman and cane-pole enthusiast. Not to mention the spinning rods or bait casters. I often call them Fun-fish instead of Sunfish.

Here we'll consider a few of the leading sunfish: the bluegill, pumpkin seed, green sunfish, red-breasted bream (or yellow belly), and long-eared sunfish. They are basically alike but differ somewhat in appearance, coloration, and size. All are courageous, hard-fighting fish, and make some really good eating.

The bluegill is perhaps the best known and most sought after of sunfish, and also the largest. Found in some streams, he is primarily a fish of the lakes, where he is taken summer and winter. His natural range comprises the Great Lakes region and a strip of southern Canada running eastward to Lake Champlain in New York; southward, it covers the Mississippi Valley to the Gulf States and the Rio Grande, and in the East to Florida. I guess I should just list the places they are not found – it will be a shorter list.

The bluegill's general color is an olive green, lighter on the sides, that verge on blue or purple in some specimens. Cheeks, top of head, and gill covers are bluish; the gill-cover flap, black. The bluegill often shows faint bars on its sides, but these are likely to fade quickly when the fish is taken from water. There is a black splotch on the posterior rays of the dorsal fin. The bluegill has no red or orange spots, as some sunfish do, but the forepart of its belly may be bright orange or yellow.



Length goes to 12 in. or more, and weight to more than 1 lb., but the average is less. The largest bluegill I've caught weighed slightly more than 1 lb., and it was a grand fish.

The species has been introduced into California and other states, and in some cases has done very well, becoming abundant and of good size.

A smaller sunfish, the pumpkin seed, attains a length of about 8 in. and a weight of 6 to 8 oz. It is found in northern ponds and streams from the Great Lakes to Maine and in the northern portion of the Mississippi Valley.

This fish is most easily identified by the red spot it sports on each gill cover. Its color is greenish olive shading into blue; its sides are spotted with orange, and its orange cheek has wavy blue streaks. Forepart of the belly is usually bright orange.

I've never caught pumpkin seeds running more than 1/2 lb., but they hybridize with bluegills, and the resultant cross may run 1 lb.

Our third panfish, the green sunfish, runs about the same size as the pumpkin seed, averaging smaller in some sections. It is found west of the Allegheny Mountains, from the Great Lakes to Mexico, being quite abundant in ponds, streams, and creeks.

The green sunfish's overall color is rather dull, a sort of olive green flecked with yellow. It isn't as deep-bodied as the pumpkin seed, and its mouth is noticeably larger than that of any of the sunfish under discussion here. It is sometimes mistaken for a bluegill because it has a black spot at the rear of its dorsal fin.
The red-breasted bream or yellow-belly reaches about 1 lb. It is most abundant east of the Alleghenies and south of New Jersey. General color is olive green, lightening on the belly. Along the sides there may be red spots, bright to dull, on a bluish background. Lower part of the head is marked with bluish stripes against an olive background. Breast ranges from deep yellow to orange. The yellow belly's ear flap is long, narrow, and black; hence, it's sometimes erroneously called the long-eared sunfish.

The true long-eared sunfish also has a long ear flap, noticeably broad in contrast with that of the yellowbelly. General overall coloration is brilliant - a mixture of blue, green, orange, and yellow. There is a wide variation in the color pattern of these sunfish, among the most brightly colored of all freshwater species.

The long-ear is also one of the most abundant of our fish, ranging from Michigan and Minnesota to the Rio Grande in the West and South Carolina in the East. Length runs to 7 or 8 in., but the long-ear's body is chunky and its weight good compared with that of the yellowbelly.



All five of our sunfish follow the same spawning pattern; they nest in colonies in water from about 8 in. to 3 ft. deep. The males form the nests by fanning away sand and gravel; they pick up larger stones in their mouths and drop them outside the nest. If the bottom is muck, instead of sand or gravel, the males fan away the mud until underlying submerged sticks or weed roots are revealed. Generally the nests are round or oval, but have less symmetry on a rough bottom. The female's eggs are adhesive and will stick to gravel, wood, or to one another.

When the females are ripe they enter the nesting area and the males attract them to the nests. Having spawned, a female leaves the nest, but the male remains on guard, hovering over the eggs and farming them with his fins to keep them free of silt. During this period he will fearlessly attack predators much larger than he is. Hatching time is very short - a matter of days.

Sunfish live in both weedy and rocky waters. They seem to prefer the rocky shoals to deeper water, and- lie at the edges of weed clumps rather than directly in them. However, thick weed beds are a haven for immature fish; they slide easily among the tangled stems and fronds that discourage predators.

In water that is not entirely suitable, sunfish propagate and increase but never attain good size. I know some lakes, primarily trout waters, where the sunfish remain stunted. But they have taken over other lakes and put the trout in the background.

Worms are traditional bait for sunfish, and for me any worm fills the bill. It can be the ordinary garden variety or a night crawler. It can be an inchworm or a worm from cow or horse manure, if you can find any of the latter these days. Or it can be a nice, lively, whitish worm dug from the banks of a bog stream. It can be any worm or in the muck, so long as it can be properly impaled on a suitable hook. On the whole, I'm satisfied with night crawlers or earthworms, but there are times when other things seem more attractive.

I have also found minnows to be good bait. I've taken large bluegills with them while fishing for bass, and sometimes got green sunfish on small minnows. Occasionally - but not very often - I've taken pumpkin seeds or yellowbellies with minnows.

Sunfish have small mouths, so they have not been fitted by nature to be fish eaters. However, when hungry they'll attack a minnow. But they're more likely to kill, mangle, or steal your bait than get caught on the hook. (Of course, I'm excluding such members of the sunfish family as - the rock bass, crappie, and the king of them all - the black bass.)

I'd say that the sunfish we've been considering are feeders on insects and their larvae, small crustaceans, snails and their kin, and a certain amount of vegetable matter. I've found plenty of these things in their stomachs but have rarely discovered fish, and then only in large specimens or when anglers had been baiting with minnows.

Because of their feeding habits, the sunfish respond well to artificial flies, either wet or dry, and to bug-like or wormlike artificial baits as well. My favorite flies are few. For drys, I like the McGinty or any other "bee" pattern; a Black Gnat with a fat body of chenille or peacock herl; a Coachman or, occasionally, a Royal Coachman; a White Moth; and a Black Alder with peacock herl or black-chenille body and brown deer hair tied horizontally along the hook shank. I think sizes 8 and 10 are most useful, but I lean a lot to 12's when the water is calm.

I also like small bugs with cork or hair bodies in the general color range of the flies. A black body with a white-hair or hackle tail is sometimes excellent, as are also the Coachman, Brown, and bee patterns. Size 10 kinked shank hooks suit me here, but if the fish run larger, size 8 (or even 6) is sometimes better. You are also likely to pick up good bass on these larger ones.

I like wet-fly and nymph patterns in sizes 8, 10, and 12. My favorite patterns are the McGinty or other bee-like pattern with a bulky yellow-and-black body: a Black Gnat with heavy body; a Silver Doctor that's a cheap imitation of the salmon pattern, with some guinea fowl used; Alexandria-two patterns, one with white and one with scarlet hackle; and Brown Hackle with red-wool tag.

In fishing' dry flies, try a number of different tactics. Sometimes a sunny will be attracted to a fly or bug if you let the lure lie still on the water after you drop it there. I think that is always the best way to start. When it's lain there for some time give it a slight twitch. Pause and do it again, repeating as necessary.

Don't become impatient and lift the fly too quickly from the surface. Sometimes you'll get your strike when the lure is close to the boat. If slight twitches don't work, try snappier ones, but be gentle at the start. When you have found the retrieve that works best that day, stick with it as long as it continues to produce for you. Each day will be different then the last.

A 6-ft.-long leader is usually adequate but I like longer ones, especially if the water is clear. One that is 7 1/2 ft. long and tapered to 2X makes a good general length and weight. In sunfishing, the line should float; otherwise it will be difficult to make the surface twitches of the lure lifelike. And the floating line keeps the fly dry and riding well.

If you use wet flies, soak them before you start fishing so they'll go under as soon as they hit water. As the fly sinks watch line or leader; often a strike comes as the fly goes down and you'll notice it by a twitch on the line or leader. Then be quick on the trigger to set the hook.

Otherwise let the fly sink until it reaches bottom, then start it upward without a jerk so you'll avoid snagging a weed. As you do this, be prepared for a strike; a fish may have been watching the fly sink and get interested in it only when it "comes to life."

While there are a number of ways of fishing a retrieve I think the best is the "hand twist," which experienced fly fishermen have been using as long as I can remember. It's easy to learn but difficult to describe.

Let's try, anyway. At the start of the retrieve, take the line between the tips of thumb and forefinger (palm of hand up). Then swing the hand over clockwise until palm is down; that moves the line in several inches. With the hand in that position, take line between the fourth and little finger; then swing the hand counterclockwise until it is palm up. That moves the line several inches more. Keep repeating these two moves; the fingers will learn to perform them almost automatically. That way you'll bring the lure toward you in short, rhythmic jerks of 3 or 4 in. When the movement becomes natural you'll find that it is possible to regulate its speed nicely.

This retrieve is necessary if you're to get the best out of wet-fly fishing. Of course, you can give the fly a jerky retrieve simply by retrieving the line sharply. And that's the thing to do when circumstances call for sharp, fast jerks.

Other times you can interest the fish with rod action alone. That happens mostly when you're making short casts of 25 ft. or less. Retrieve by starting the rod low at the end of the cast; produce short jerks on the line as you raise the rod to vertical. When the rod is at about 10 or 11 o'clock (assuming you're facing 9 o'clock) you should be able to pick your fly or flies from the water without appreciable effort, preparatory to making the next cast.

At times in sun fishing, a fuzzy dry fly (such as a palmer or bivisible), thoroughly soaked and fished wet with decided jerks, is quite effective.
While almost any fly rod may be used in sunfishing, the lighter it is, the more fun you'll have. A 7 1/2 or 8-ft. dry-fly trout rod is fine, and will handle bass if you happen to tie into one.

Fishing With Floats

How To Make Fishing Lures.

A float when fishing does two jobs: it lets the angler know when his bait has been taken, giving him a visual point where the line enters the water. It also dangles the bait at a pre-determined distance between the top of the bottom and the bottom. As with every other piece of tackle, the angler must know what fish he is after and what the characteristics of that fish are in order to select the correct tackle.

Some fish are naturally suspicious of bait attached to a float. Although it appears to float invisibly in the water, the bait resists attempts to move it or swallow it. Some fish, particularly a luderick, will immediately release bait from its mouth when it feels the drag of a float from above. A float should bob on the surface in a state of neutral buoyancy. The slightest tug from below will be transmitted to the angler and will not alert the fish to its presence. The ideal use of the float therefore requires a careful balance between the weight of the float and the use of a splitshot sinker or weight.

The difficulty of using a line with a float is usually in the length of line between the float and the hook, which is hard to manage during casting. Ideally a float should be rigged so that it runs along the line and stops at a pre-determined point on the line with the use of a splitshot sinker or swivel. This point is the desired depth at which the angler would like his bait to dangle underneath the water.

The shape of the float is almost as essential as the weight or buoyancy of the float. The bobbing cork of the rock fisherman must be able to support the weight of the bait as well as the turbulence of the water washing back from the rocks. There is no need for it to as sensitive as the float of the estuary fisherman who would use a long slender float with a sensitive tip.

Tip! If you're looking for tunas, find the dolphins because Yellowfin tuna are usually found schooling with dolphins. So if you see a group of dolphins, chances are there are some tuna in the area.

The bubble float is a favourite among trout and mullet fishermen. It is a clear, plastic ball with plugs, which allow the angler to partially fill the ball with water and hence regulate its weight and where it sits on the surface of the water. Some floats are designed to lie straight on the surface of the water and only stand upright when registering a bite from below. These floats are not popular however as they are difficult to locate and track before the bite. Luminous floats can also be used, however these are not popular either as the luminous fades after a short time.

Trout Fishing Secrets. Trout Fishing Secrets Revealed - How To Catch A Trout Everytime: When Spinner Fishing Your Favorite Stream Or River.

Colours of a float are important only to the individual angler and the best is determined by their ease of sight in various types of water.

With the exception of the lying-down type of float, all other floats should ride upright in the water. If they don't, it is because they are either out of balance, or need an extra weight affixed to the line underneath them to draw them into an upright position. The bait may also be resting on the bottom, the water being shallower than anticipated by the angler.

Tip! Some fishing lodges advertise a certain amount for a few days by the lake. It is advisable to ask if there are any hidden charges.

To thread the float, simply pass the line through the eyelets of the float and then at the depth at which you want your bait to dangle, affix a splitshot sinker or other device to stop the running of the float along the line beyond that point. There should be just enough pf the float above the water to make it visible to the angler. Too much and the wind will catch the stem and blow it away. Experienced anglers can then watch their float and know instantly what is happening beneath the surface where their bait is. The float disappearing from view is a good indication the bait has been taken and time for the strike.

Michael Russell
Your Independent guide to Fishing