Fish Fights
Wade-fishermen, particularly those who cut their teeth on small streams, are by necessity precise casters. They learn to hook and play small fish on light gear, and throw tiny dries against brush-choked banks. But float fishermen, or wade fishermen for that matter, on big windy rivers develop different skills. My wife Kim learned this the hard way, on her first western tail-water. As I barked orders, Kim lost fish after fish on solid takes, several right at the net. Finally, close to tears, she sat down and dropped her rod in her lap.
“This is NOT fishing…” she said. “This is getting yelled at, losing everything you hook, and not understanding why.”
Luckily, my buddy Breuer was at the oars. He’s made a career of guiding big rivers, and he was no stranger to the frustration that Kim was feeling. He anchored up in a side channel pulled three beers from the cooler.
“Kim,” he said, “I’m gonna lay this out for you straight. I’ve taught a lot of people who can’t figure out which end of a fly rod is which how to hook and land strong fish in big water, so listen up and listen up good.”
His dissertation, sans expletives and beer-belches, went something like this:
The Hook Set:
Hook set and initiation of contact are pivotal in big-water, big-current situations. Small water often calls for straight-line fishing, which minimizes slack between rod tip and fly. A heavier volume of water, even when nymphed on a short line, places a host of conflicting demands on the fly that threaten to introduce slack. Junctions of line/leader/indicator/flies/shot are dispersed in conflicting currents through and across the water column. Hence, a hook set in big water should be accomplished with as much ‘oomph’ as the system can tolerate, in an effort to straighten each kink that exists between fly and rod tip.
On a heavily-mended dry fly drift, or even a swung wet fly, the hook set requires little more than an assertive lift of the rod tip. Stripped streamers on heavy leaders can be strip-set to gain immediate contact, but weighted nymph rigs need to be lifted with authority.
“When that indicator goes down, you’ve got to set up HARD!” said Breuer, to which Kim responded “but if it’s a dink, won’t I rip his lips off?”
Breuer’s response was typically sensitive: “Well, you should sure try…”
Dealing With The Belly Line: When to get him on the reel
Sometimes in heavy current, the size of a fish can be hard to gauge. Frequently, large fish initiate the fight posing as adolescents, only to prove their strength when a landing net enters the frame. Similarly, some of the scrappiest fish in big water are in the mid-size range. In either case, ridding yourself of problem belly line is a good first step after hook-set is solid.
Belly line is simply the working slack that builds on the water or, in a boat, around the angler’s feet. It snags and tangles, and frequently hangs up when the fish makes its first big run. To eliminate belly line, maintain tension with a rod held high and line pinched off between the fingers of the rod hand. Crank like crazy to get belly line on the reel, while staying cognizant of line management. Belly line regained quickly rarely stacks well and can bind in the reel; try always to re-gain line evenly across the spool.
In the presence of a really hot fish, time is of the essence. If there is no time to crank, spin the spool rim with the reeling hand as hard and fast as possible. If your ego allows it, let a friend spin the rim for you; you can use the reeling hand to pinch the line, while the rod hand helps to maintain tension via steep rod angle. Once the belly line is clear, potential snags are much limited.
Strong Runs: Rod Angle and Position, Reel Control and Drag settings.
Small water fishermen are often instructed to ‘keep a bend in the rod’ to maintain tension. This theory requires some re-thinking when fighting big-water fish. Fish, salmonids especially, that have grown accustomed to making a living in heavy current, utilize that current in an effort to escape. When a fish feels initial pressure, there is usually one good run soon to come. If the run tracks across and up-stream, the fly line develops a belly, and the current pull adds weight and angle to the connection between fish and fisherman. This belly, theoretically anyway, should not put undo pressure on the fish. In a downstream run (assuming tension is solid and the leader is of decent strength) drop the rod tip a bit as the fish runs. This will allow the smooth application of resistance via mechanical drag. If he goes airborne, don’t worry too much about the tarpon angler’s directive of “bowing to the fish”. Worry more about smooth, continued application of pressure, hope for a solid hookup, and regain rod angle as the fish slows.
Much has been said about ‘train-stopping power’ of mechanical drag in modern fly reels. In order to protect small tippets, drag setting requires some forethought. That said, too light a drag setting does little to slow a hard-running fish, and threatens back-spooling if the angler is not cautious. As a rule, set drag tighter than you think is necessary. Test line let-off by pulling an arm’s length off the reel; it should come off smoothly; if it jerks, lighten by a half turn and try again. Also, be prepared to ‘palm’ the rim of the spool. Rim control is not always the smoothest application of drag, but it may be the most sensitive. ‘Train-stopping power’ is impressive in theoretical terms, but too much or too little tension, applied indelicately, will break off fish.
Regaining line: How much pressure is too much?
The longer a fish is in the water, the more time it has to escape. It’s that simple. Where delicacy is less critical, heavy-water rigs should employ strong tippets. As a rule, short streamer leaders on western tailwaters should taper to 8 lbs, nymph rigs to 3X, dry and wet leaders to 4X… 5X only if necessary. Though 6X or even 7X can be essential, it is rare that a supple, 4X tippet can’t get the job done in big current.
Almost without fail, anglers are afraid to put pressure on fish. If the fish is played off the rod, and a good bend is retained when muscling the fish, much of the shock of the fight is absorbed by the rod’s flex. That said, smooth application of pressure is critical; put a bend in the rod smoothly and without sudden hitches.
When a leader breaks, always conduct a post-mortem. 90% of the time, fish are not truly ‘broken off’. Rather, knot failure occurs at the tippet/leader connection or at the hook-eye. If a fight ends with a pigtail of tippet, the knot-tier should the one picking up the next bar tab. Furthermore, re-tie the fly after every big fight. Trout have small teeth that abrade tippets as the orientation of the line shifts. Seemingly inconsequential wear can prove disastrous in fighting subsequent fish.
Punishing the Bulldog: What to do when a big fish digs in strong current.
Fish grow strong battling heavy current on big, open rivers. They are forced, however, to seek refuge where they can, and to avoid fighting a powerful flow of water directly. Hence, when hooked, the fight often includes a run into sheltered water behind or near riverbed structure, where a fish can dig into a subsurface eddy. When a fish ‘bulldogs’, raising him takes some work, and can feel like a risky proposition.
Usually, the aforementioned principles apply: steady, smooth application of pressure, enough rod bend to cushion surprises, and the fish will eventually come up. The problem with the bulldog is the potential for wraps and tangles, as the line can easily snag on whatever structure the fish is hiding behind. If you lose connection to the ‘living’ feeling of a fish, and pressure won’t budge him, you are likely tangled, and its time to roll the dice. You can hope for the fish to untangle the wrap, you can put a lot of pressure on the system in hopes of freeing things up, or you can throw a ton of slack onto the water and let it belly downstream. On rare occasion, the current pulling on the downstream belly changes directional pull enough to coax the fish out if his refuge and free the line.
Bringing a fish to net:
Landing a fish in heavy current is best achieved in concert with a designated net-handler. The first step requires that the fish be ‘done’. His fight may become lackluster, his head-shakes may diminish; something will indicate that he’s exhausted. At this point, still maintaining pressure, reel him up. Keep the rod tip low, perpendicular to the flow of current, but maintain a good bend. At some point, the line/leader connection will come through the guides, as will leader knots. A run now could be disastrous, so commitment is necessary.
Many anglers lift the fish’s head clear of the water and skate it over the surface, eliminating some of the push of current on the fish. This is a good idea, but should not be accomplished with a rod held high and/or vertical. A high rod at this point allows the fish to circle and snag, and undo pressure on the rod tip can snap it. Instead, bring the fish up-current and perpendicular to the flow with a low rod, let the net-handler get in behind the fish, and don’t freak out; it’s almost a done deal.
It ain’t over til it’s over…
If a fish bolts at the last minute, let him go. Point the rod at him to clear leader knots, and start the process all over again, remaining calm. Once the fish is in the net, let the net-handler deal with things. Offer several pulls of slack, keep the rod in your hands, and stay out of the way. Once the fly is out of the fish’s mouth, stow the rod safely, and you can examine your prize.
Contingencies:
When fishing alone, the process is similar but harder. Taking the time to set up (i.e. have net handy, space clear, etc.) before fishing is critical. When wade fishing, use shallow water to your advantage. Shallow water typically has less current, and provides less escape options through the water column. Back up towards shore and use that vantage point to fight from.
Conclusion:
Breuer finished his speech by crushing his beer can and grabbing the anchor rope. “Now it’s showtime,” he said to Kim, dropping back into the main current. We found a piece of diamond chop off the point of an island, Kim punched her nymphs into it, and threw a big mend upstream. At the bottom of the drift, the indicator dipped, she set hard, and was fast to something solid and alive. A few minutes later, a chunky, 17” brown lay heaving in the net, and Kim tenderly released him. She flicked Montana river water from her fingers, turned to our old friend Uncle Breuer and smiled.
“You know Breuer,” she said, eyes twinkling, “I don’t care what they say about you… you’re a pretty damn good fishing guide!”
First published in American Angler