When those outside the fly fishing community think about fly fishing they may think about trout, the wall street elite, red neck hippie vagabonds and a seemingly “out there” expression of art and science. For the flies and fins crew, fly fishing is so much more to describe and appreciate that there aren’t enough trees on Gods good earth to make enough paper to describe its place in our hearts and minds. For many anglers, that dedicate their lives and bank accounts to fly fishing, there are onion-like layers to the spiritual, athletic and emotional fulfillment. A dedication to the sport and adherence to the lifestyle.
Having started fly fishing in salt water, I initially experienced a wealth of failure, frustration and honestly… embarrassment. I picked up the sport in college when all my friends had done it since they were young boys. I saw a parallel excitement to playing guitar. Whilst you learn to play guitar, it’s frustrating, embarrassing and to some it seems like a silly waste of time and to spend time doing so is foolish as you will never be as good as the guy on the radio. Additionally, sometimes people might ask, what are you trying to prove? The beauty in that process of frustration is that eventually, once your fingers start listening to your mind, you can play with someone.. jam.. express yourself and a common happiness in unison with a friend (whiskey helps but not necessary.)
The same goes with fly fishing. I bet whilst you read this you will agree that those that began fly fishing without a guide on their first experience did not “crush”, “put on a clinic”, “kill it” etc. Of course, there will always be beginners luck but if you try and tell me that during your first experience fly fishing you spent more time hooked up than tangled or in a tree we probably won’t fish together. There’s something to be said from fabricated “fishing stories” to enhance the excitement of the sport but when you substitute fakeness for true dedication and passion… no thanks. Which brings me to my next point: truth.
Fly fishing and all forms of fishing for that matter are the finest form of truth. Doing something random based on faith in managing the margins of luck and error with persistence, knowledge and a thirst for fun… When you hookup to a trout, striper, tarpon or shark, there is no lying there. The process can not be disputed. And if you’re not having fun, then you know the truth that fishing is not your thing. But for us, fishing is life and fun.
Over the past few days Captain Steve Gannon, stock broker Alex Broadbent, archaeologist Nadia Waski and I pursued late season striped bass on the fly and light tackle. In past years we had always gone out around Thanksgiving and maybe rose a few bass to hand with clousers, late at night under a well lit bridge amidst a pint of whiskey, cold smoke laughs and an outgoing tide. But this year we put on an absolute clinic bringing more fish to the boat then all years prior.
Amongst the fantastic fishing we experience fantastic conditions both as humans and as anglers. None of us had ever caught a striper in the snow. However, we’ve all told our parents and girlfriends that we’d be home by noon and roll in at 6PM smelling like Irish whiskey, fish and unfiltered cigarettes. There’s a certain energy to the holiday season that doesn’t always reach the beach or the bow but this year the abundance of striped bass and biomass in the Long Island sound gave us the opportunity to share moments beyond the reel.
As us four lifelong friends played pool and danced to “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” we looked back on the past few days in awe and appreciation for the sport and the friends that come with it. The main truth here is that the times are always good when fishing with lifetime friends but they’re a little bit better when you catch enough fish to push the limits of fun, ignore frozen fingers, capture the photographic moments and share the story sometime down the road in hopes that you may inspire another to join the fantastic community of fly fishing.
Happy Holidays