Back in 2019, my last shot was at a massive GT. I had an enthusiastic follow, but the fish saw us at the last second and pulled away.
This trip I was fishing with Ari and we were approaching a long cut that led out to the lagoon, where the boat was waiting for us. As we approached the cut Ari called out a fish on a flat just in front of the cut.
It was a GT.
It was maybe 25-35 pounds.
I had the fly I wanted to throw and I made the cast. I was a little too close to the fish, nearly on its head (back handed cast into the wind), but the fish didn’t spook and it started to follow.
Last flat. Last fish. And it is a GT.
Then, the fish saw us and pulled off.
That’s two trips with two last casts, to two GTs who both saw us last second and didn’t eat.
Our Korean Wreck day was, well, different than I envisioned.
First off, the ride was longer. We just went further than I had ever been… than anyone in the group had ever been. We passed turnoff after turnoff after turnoff and ended up driving for 2:30 before Phil and I started fishing. Each turnoff my blood pressure went up just ever so slightly. I’m not patient when it comes to getting on the water and this was not a good stress test of that character flaw.
When we DID get off the truck and to the water… well… there wasn’t much water. The tide was going out, almost out, and there wasn’t a lot of swimmable water up on the flats available for the fish.
I did go out and promptly stick a Christmas Island Wrasse, because they are awesome.
After that, I went off to try to pop some trevalley in the cuts. I got one grab from a bluefin, but it didn’t stay on. Beyond that, it was pretty grim there in the morning.
We moved, which meant more truck time (yay) and we dipped into the beers before 10:30.
After lunch, when I was maybe a bit grumpy, we had a kind of crazy experience.
We head back out onto a waterless flat but the guide says to follow him. He takes us to a little cut in the reef and there, in the water that is a couple hours from reaching the flat itself, are about 200 bonefish.
I don’t know why I don’ thave a picture of this, but I don’t.
The fish were there, sort of milling around, moving as the surges from waves teased in and out.
The Would. Not. Go. Away.
We started casting into the school, both of us, and after about 20 casts or so, we started hooking up.
Phil and I figure we caught maybe 24 bones out of this little bucked in a couple hours. Phil had maybe 14, I had maybe 10, including a couple very solid, nice fish, maybe to 6 pounds.
It was very much like shooting fish in a barrel. You could cast right in the middle of the fish and they wouldn’t spook. They wouldn’t eat on most casts either, but they wouldn’t run off into deeper water. They just swayed there, in the surf, and let us catch a whole bunch of them.
There were bigger fish just at the back too. These fish were maybe 8-9-10 pound fish… big bonefish. But a cast their way and they’d slide into the deeper water until you’d given up on the pursuit.
When I’d catch one of the bonefish in the school I’d put the stick to it. I had my drag cranked down and was using 20 lb tippet. There was coral everywhere, so the risk of cutting the fish off was very high, and it is probably better to have the freaking out fish out of the school. I managed to do this pretty well, only losing two fish to cut tippet.
It was a really, really crazy couple of hours and changed the Wreck day from one nearly devoid of fish (along with the water) to one of the most productive days of the trip.
Local knowledge… the guide knew that spot was there and that those fish would behave in that way.
Sometimes, you are sitting there, shooting the breeze after a long day of fishing and a crab walks into your circle, your arena, if you will. This is a perfect time to play “Crab Reactions,” a new sport invented at Christmas Island Lodge by legends of the game, Bjorn, James and Wallace.
Rules:
Any crab within 30-40 feet may be considered part of the game.
Any player may pick up a naturally occuring piece of rock, shell or coral and toss it in the crab’s direction.
IF the crab reacts to this toss, the thrower is awarded a point.
IF the crab was already moving when the toss was made, this is not a valid point.
Any throw that HITS the crab results in the loss of all points (the point is not to hit the crab).
The game lasts until the crab is no longer available or has gone too far away to be a viable target.
Crabs may be naturally occurring or may be caught and moved to the arena (thanks Wayne).
We are in talked to have this new sport streamed live and you should be able to place bets on our new site, DraftCrabs.com.
The world has been crying out for just such a distraction.
OK… don’t bring the 12 weight. You hate casting that thing. Just double up on the 10’s and leave the 12 at home. Maybe consider burning it.
And, you don’t need a 10 for triggers. You can do triggers with an 8. If you break an 8, like you did on this trip, it means you are either borrowing a rod (thanks Phil), or you just give up on triggers.
Having the spinning rod along for the lodge water was fine, but didn’t do anything. So, maybe save the weight.
We did have an angler lose half a fly line at the Wreck on a GT, so, ya know… having that backup 10 line/reel makes good sense.
The beefy Simms boots are a good call and you should keep going that route.
Socks with a liner, is all ya need.
The sling pack gets HEAVY is you insist on bringing all yer crap out there. The right shoulder starts to get a bit achey. The backpack is a bit harder to get stuff in and out of, but it is balanced on your shoulders and that rod holder was super clutch. For the times I was out on my own, I really enjoyed having the second rod there and available instead of with the guide, somewhere else.
I used a “Day’s worth” box for a selection to put in a pocket, just need something similar to put a few GT flies in so I can reduce times I’m in and out of the backpack.
Flies… the guides liked the smaller brass barbell eyes. The simple flies were the winners, some with just flash on the wing. I did get one vervenka shrimp to work, but, ya know… that was when I was casting into a pod of 200 fish that wouldn’t eff off, so, maybe not the best test.
The guides really wanted black/purple for the GT flies, but the pattern that kind of worked with more mullet-like. So, maybe tie some black and purple, but tie som more of those mullet-esque flies as well.
Figure out why your popper kept twisting your fly line, cuz… that was annoying. Maybe this could help.
There is a trend for tights with shorts. Don’t like it. The hotest I felt was the one day I wore tights. So, won’t be doing that again.
No one got the tummy troubles. So, huzzah.
There was laundry, so, could have reduced clothes brought by half.
Need to take more pictures, summarize the days a bit, so I don’t forget the cool stuff that happens.
The low-light glasses worked, but they looked like maybe I had just recieved a pardon for storming the Capitol.
I don’t have a solution for my fingertips getting sunburned. Need to figure that out.
I was fishing with Ari out of Christmas Island Lodge. Ari is a female guide working in a very male-dominated industry/culture and I think she was maybe the best guide I fished with on the Island.
She communicated, had a plan, asked questions and she could spot fish.
She had been told I needed therapy after missing a good shot at a 60 pound GT and that wasn’t totally wrong. She had some spots for us to check out.
She brought us to a cut/channel that was about 80 feet wide with a good firm bottom on one side and a steeper bank on the far side. I put some prospecting casts in and got a follow from… who knows what, but that was promising. Soon thereafter there was an explosion of water and bait on the far side. I moved up and made the cast.
Now, my casting has come a long way from when I first started saltwater fly fishing and a backhanded cast with a 10 weight is something I can actually hit 80 feet with. One strip and a fish exploded on the fly as another fish exploded a few feet in front of it. That strike didn’t stick, but one more strip and another explosion resulted in a hard tug and I was connected.
I don’t set my drag lightly and I put the stick to the fish, holding him in the channel and reducing the chances he’d get me hung up on some coral or cut me on the edge of the channel.
I really love trevally fishing. The visual and violent nature of the take is just thrilling. The power of the fish is so impressive. This wasn’t a GT and it wasn’t huge, but it was a decent fish… beautiful in its colors, luminescent with its lit up spots. Love these fish.
And that’s how I ended up with this fish, caught in the backcountry of Christmas Island with Ari.
Christmas Island is allllmost here. One week from today I get on the plane to head to Hawaii. I’ve managed to pick up a work meeting there on the Monday, which means I get to take it as a work day, which is sweet. The flight to Xmas is Tuesday.
Packing today I finally got out all the gear and started putting it all together.
This is when I discovered…
I have TWO 12 weight reels and three 12 wt. lines… which is good, I guess, but maybe a bit optimistic.
My 10 wt. reel drag is… stuck. I can’t increase or decrease the drag. This was not the ideal time to discover this. Going through my available reels I do have another that is fit for a 10 wt., although I couldn’t get the full 300 yards of backing on it I’d want if I use that for GTs. I am getting a borrowed reel from a buddy, so I’ll be OK.
My Umpqua Line Scale is still helpful. They don’t make it anymore and it was key in figuring out exactly what I had.
I’m still tying, although a reasonable person might have stopped some time ago.
I’ve been tying up some Cocaine Crustaceans, which are just super easy and look interesting.
Plenty of Xmas Island style flies already in the boxes… but, maybe I should tie some more.
I’m going back to Christmas Island in February. I’m so looking forward to getting another crack at that big GT and seeing some triggers and seeing what all might bite out at the Korean Wreck.
Such a cool place.
Triggers are rad
That brings me to y’all. One of the group just dropped out, meaning we have a spot open. Feb. 11.
I wanted to take the boy to one of my favorite places, the Lower McCloud. It is one of the most beautiful places on earth (ya know, to me).
I got him some Redington waders and boots just to be ready for him to stand in cold water.
Crucially, I didn’t call the Ted Fay Fly Shop for a stream report.
We started heading down to the river, leaving the paved road and hitting the kind of dirt/rock road that a city kid doesn’t see too often.
We passed Ah Di Nah (I wanted to name my daughter Ahdinah but her mom thought it sounded like a 70 year old waitress who smokes 2 packs a day in a truckstop town) and headed further toward the McCloud Preserve (run by TNC). We encountered a truck on the way who stopped and I stopped and rolled down the window.
“It’s unfishable” he said.
“Totally off color. Milk. No one is down there. Place is abandoned.”
Well, I could see the river and it looked very, very poor. Visibility looked to be about 4″-5″. I was there, we were there, so we were going to go see it anyway. I thanked the other angler and we headed on down to the end of the road.
There were no cars. We were the only ones foolish enough to be there.
We got out to start getting ready and were set upon by a cloud of mosquitos. Now, I knew this would happen, it almost always does here, but I had not warned the boy. He kind of freaked out about it. As we walked down to the river he really started to lose it. A bug went up his nose and he straight up lost his shiznit. I was not full of compassion and may have said something like “deal with it.” He did not deal with it. There were tears and screams and we very nearly stopped about 100 feet down the trail.
I tried to get him in a position to fish, but… it just wasn’t going to happen for him.
The McCloud was barely fishable and it wasn’t going to be fishable for your average 10 year old.
We made it to the care takers place and found all 10 tags waiting for us. We grabbed two tags and had lunch.
After a quick lunch we hit the water behind one of the cabins.
I manged to catch 4 despite the poor visibility. Fish have to eat, even if it is difficult. All 4 at big ugly bugs, probably the only things they could see.
After about an hour (for most of that time O just watched and played on the bank) we left. That was it. That was all of the McCloud we were going to see and I doubt the awesomeness of that place translated to my 10 year old. All he knows of the place is that there are a bazillion bugs (they pretty much go away when you get on the water) and the water is opaque. We did manage to see a black bear on the road on the way out, which was cool.
We pivoted. We went from the Mac directly to a high mountain lake. We didn’t even get the rods out. We just walked around the lake looking for critters and we found them.
Highlight of the trip will be this lake for him.
I had so wanted him to fall in love with one of my favorite places, but you just can’t really control what your kids will love. Just gotta go with the flow and find them where they are at.
