Fly fishing & photography Magazine
issue #24 - fall 2014 www.flymage.net
CONTENtS A DAY OF WORK IN PICTURES By Johan Wallestad
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WAITING FOR THE MAN
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PyReNEeS 2.0
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The Global Fly-Fishing Network
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RODS, CARP AND CAMERAs
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By Ray Montoya By Nacho Puyal Fly Dreamers
José H. Weigand y Carlos del Rey COVER PHOTO - © Ray Montoya
EDITOR JOSÉ H. WEIGAND
CONTRIBUTORS RAY MONTOYA, JOHAN WALLESTAD, NACHO PUYAL, CARLOS DEL REY, JOHN LANGRIDGE, JOSÉ L. GARCÍA, MIKEL ELEXPURU.
DESIGN A. MUÑOZ
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A day of work in Images
Johan Wallestad Atlantic Salmon Guide Photos: J. Wallestad
Johan Wallestad (left) “My passion is Salmon and Sea trout fishing. Have been fishing in Norway since 1997 chasing Atlantic Salmon with a fly rod. Start guiding for the NFC in the Gaula, and now working for a swedish company who fish both in Gaula and Orkla! (most of the fishing is in Orkla). Season starts in june and ends at the end of August, before and after fishing in Norway I spend a lot of time in my home rivers chasing sea trout�. Contact: Ljunganjohan@gmail.com
Coming soon New Website and Catalog
www.urruzuno.com - Tel.: (34) 943 305 011
You may have seen the classic video, “Running Down the Man” which featured the antics of Ben Knight, Travis Rummel and Frank Smethurst chasing down roosterfish with fly rods and a beach buggy. Up until then, the concept of fly fishing for roosters on foot was thought to be pure fantasy. The video inspired a fervor of interest amongst the SWFF community and a whole new industry sprung up over night. Today, tricked out quad bikes with custom made cool boxes, rod holders and rooster decals ply the East Cape Beaches of Baja, Mexico. But I’m a DIY fisherman. I had no quad bike or guide, so covering long desolate stretches of beach on foot in 40 plus degree heat was not feasible, especially for a man my age. What I did have was experience, some patience, and time to wait out the man.
Waiting For The Man by Ray Montoya
Day four, another scorcher. By noon, temps have risen above 40 degrees. In the distance, foamy sheets of surf wash over the hot sand. A layer of steamy haze makes the sea, appear inverted, misplaced. Behind me, towering cumulus thunderheads stack up against jagged, desert mountains. I huddle motionless under a cheap Chinese umbrella fixed to a piece of plastic plumbing pipe. I try to keep my body as small as possible, burying my exposed feet deep into the sand to keep them from burning. Stinging sweat trickles into the creases of my eyes as I draw from a gallon jug of warm water. Another hour passes and
I've seen nothing but a few needlefish, but it keep my focus intently on the distant shoreline. Inevitably, one's inner voice becomes an audible mumbling. Through my buff I softly chant, they're just jacks, they're just jacks, they're just jacks... I've had a life long love affair with jacks. Anyone who's fished for this species, regardless of their size, can attest to their brutish strength. They are perfectly designed to eat flies and can be ridiculously reckless in their feeding behavior. But don't underestimate the older, larger fish, especially the ones that no longer require the security of a pack. Big
jacks are smart and can be finicky as hell. I'm not talking about the chummed up GTs of Christmas Island fame, but those rare single geets I've seen pushing a wall of water across a reef flat, or those thuggish beach cruising Crevalle, or, the reason I was sitting on this god forsaken East Cape beach, those broad shouldered, loco-ass roosterfish. These are the wild, free range jacks of my dreams, the fish that I live for. Jacks are undoubtedly the most targeted saltwater fly species worldwide. They can be stalked on flats, chased down on beaches, enticed over reefs, and hunted over open blue water. On surface poppers, they have no rival. Roosterfish are basically jacks-freakishly beautiful jacks, as pretty as they come, but jacks nonetheless. I continually had to remind myself of this during those excruciating afternoons sitting on a sweltering beach. While this fact made the fantasy of landing a big rooster seem a little more plausible, it did nothing to quell the shaking in my legs
each time one came within casting range. Roosters can reach well over 100 pounds which puts them up there with geets. As for degree of difficulty, they are as tough as they come. Factor in the conditions one must endure just to get a legitimate shot from a beach, especially if you're attempting it DIY on foot, and you've got a recipe for a disappointment. I certainly arrived prepared to have my ass handed to me on a plate, but at the same time, I knew I had no business being out there if I didn't honestly believe that it could be done. There were mornings when I felt this impossibility. There were days when it felt like a job, up early each morning making coffee and pinche cheese sandwich for lunch. The long drive to the beach, the twenty minute slog over sand that was already hot under foot by nine am. Rigging rods, setting up the shade, followed by long hours of waiting and watching for shadows. Mexico in August will suck every ounce of life out you. The mind wanders aimlessly, the vision blurs,
and just as you begin to fight the pangs of an afternoon siesta, like the Virgin herself, an apparition materializes. At first you don’t believe it. Are those actually roosters? You stare hard, trying to focus, and suddenly one shadow divides into three heavy bodied fish cruising up the shore line. A wave of
adrenaline washes away the sleepiness. You spring up, rod in hand and sprint over hot sand down the beach, trying to get ahead of your target. Frantically stripping line from the reel while checking your rear view to see if you’ve been spotted, you don’t even notice your burning bare feet until you drop down to the coolness of the water’s edge.
You stop and wait for your vision to clear, desperately scanning the surf wash for a fin. Again, you stare hard until you’ve got a lock on them. You shoot your fly out, glancing down to see that the line isn’t tangled around your feet. Fly line whistles through the guides, turning the large fly over with a hard splash. The cast is good, it’s well out in front and the splash seems to have gotten their attention.
rooster is circling, confused, frantically searching for whatever escaped. Without thinking, without a false cast, I quick shoot the fly back out. The rooster, comb fully erect, sees the offering and rushes the fly again, this time inhaling it. I strip set repeatedly and immediately feel the hook sink deep and hard. The fish bolts, sending coils of line looping through the air. The remaining fly line in the surf and sand clear my feet, the reel, the fighting I allow it sink a little further butt, even the buttons on before giving it that first my shirt, the drag finally hard rip. This has got to be engages, loops and knots the twentieth fish I’ve cast came snugly without popping, to in a week. I’m expecting and the backing purrs the group to turn away from smoothly off the spool. The the beach, but instead, the distinctive sound of a Tibor largest fish rockets forward, drag punctuates the actuality mouth agape and devours the of the moment, and I realize fly. I strip set, swinging the that I have just hooked a rod as hard as I can. freakishly large rooster. In less than a minute the fish It felt as if I was watching has reached blue water, and it all unfold in some sort of once again, I’m mumbling horrific slow motion scene. to myself, but this time the Instead of coming tight, I mantra is, holy shit, holy shit, watch the fly come shooting what have I done? out of the water sail over my head and plop lifeless on I sat on a beach for five the beach behind me, sans days anticipating, waiting, eyes. My heart sinks. I spin hoping for this moment and back towards the water. The now I’m faced with a myriad
of scenarios. There are so many little things that could go awry. To land this fish, a sequence of events must align-a harmonic convergence of luck and preparation. I had done the prep, meticulously sharpened my hooks, double checked knots and leader connections, properly packed my backing, done everything possible. At this point, it was all a matter of fate, if you believe in such things.
When I saw that rooster for the second time I was shocked. She was much larger than I had imagined, well over fifty pounds, maybe sixty. Amazingly, the other two fish that were with her, each about forty pounds, were still by her side. As I gently slid her into shallow part of the beach, her escorts melted away into deeper water. Then, as if she sensed I meant her no harm, she gently turned on her side, Standing there on that beach, exhausted. Using the swell, I alone, pinned to that rooster pull her up on to the coquina, for nearly an hour was one of drop the rod and sprint down the most emotionally draining to grab her. At first I try to experiences of my life. tail her, but she’s too damn There is no second guessing, heavy, so I slide my hand in you’ve pulled the trigger, between her gill plate and and now you’ve got to deal jaw and drag the big girl just with the situation even when above the water mark. I’ve the situation, the reality of caught larger fish than this on landing such a fish, seems the fly, but nothing like this like pure fantasy. But slowly, from a beach. I toss my ten slowly, slowly, you begin to weight next to her and snap recover backing. With each a few awkward pics. Realizing gain, the fish makes another how futile photographing this panicked sprint, and so it rooster is, I quickly haul her goes, back and forth, give back into the water. and take. After forty grueling and very anxious minutes, It took nearly fifteen minutes I finally see fly line again. to revive her, during which I For the first time I start to attempted a few more pics, believe that I actually have a but she’s proves to be too chance to land this fish. large for a proper selfie. I
could have dragged her back to where I had left my pack and set up a timed shot, but the stress probably would have killed the poor girl. In the end, I settled for a few grainy gopro images, happy that she was able to recover and swim away with vigor.
low on the edge of the surf. Yes, I wanted that fish, but it didn’t break my heart when she veered out into deep water. Roosters! I have so much respect for them, as I do for all the jacks. They are the ultimate redemption species.
Dehydrated and emotionally spent, I gathered my kit and retreated back to my umbrella where I sat for a long while just trying to take it all in. At this point, the light was getting too low to see fish, so I packed up and made my way back to rental car where I celebrated with a fresh water rinse and an ice cold Pacifico from my styrofoam cooler.
Postscript:
I stopped in the village of Barriles on my way to the airport. The owner of East Cape Tackle, Cindy Kirkwood was there. Knowing she had seen a lot of roosterfish, I asked if she would have a look at some of my pics. Cindy was visibly impressed. She estimated my rooster to be over fifty pounds, approaching sixty. The Normally when I land a pending IGFA fly rod record is permit, it’s only a matter a just over sixty pounds, a fish minutes before I’m hungry caught from a boat last June for another. They’re like by Margaret Shaughnessy. potato chips that way. But big The fish took four hours roosters? I have to admit, I to land on twenty pound wasn’t quite ready to go at tippet, such is the antiquated it again the next day. Still, ridiculousness of line class with one day left to fish, why records. Without a doubt, not? I managed another great my fish was a record class shot at a fish nearly the same rooster, but the memory of size. She turned on the fly watching that fish swim away aggressively before looking was worth all the records in up and seeing me crouched the world.
Ray Montoya Originally from New Mexico, in 1994 he moved his family overseas teach at International Schools in West Papua, the Philippines Islands and for the past nine years, Oman. He purchased his first fly rod in 1972 and has traveled and fished in over twenty countries. Ray has published numerous fly fishing articles including some in Flymage Magazine.
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by Mikel Elexpuru
Flymage Fly Tying Videos
Once again, I’m unnerved by the imminent start of the fishing season high in the mountains. The last few days waiting seem eternal. My head does not stop spinning. I shuffle through the usual variables, the quality of the fish, weather information, what the winter’s been like and so on, with the accumulated experience and knowledge of the terrain, imagining what I’ll find...
Pyrenees 2.0 Text and Photos: Nacho Puyal
How many times after a long journey have I found it impossible to fish or even get to my destination because of the amount of accumulated snow and ice. The night before, I am unable to sleep, the key day has finally arrived. As soon as the alarm sounds I am up, it’s 4 am and everything is ready to go. As I drive through the night, I gradually see more clearly and the sun begins to ask for permission to rise. I
like to arrive early, by first light and feel the cool breeze on the face as my body starts to get warm on the first, hard slopes. Gradually, the blurred silhouettes of the mountains begin to take shape, it is just them and me. Silence and solitude make me feel insignificant, while my accelerated heartbeat pumps, bringing me back to reality, reminding me how lucky I am able to experience these feelings.
Making my way, concentrating on my breathing, I’m remembering the toughness of these places. “This year it seems I’m out of shape, it´s not easy”, I think you really have to work each step of the way, but that effort will bring your reward.
On the way I come across local fauna, sometimes surprising suspicious-natured marmots that run away to their burrows, and once there observed me curiously, watching my movements. Also I find myself face to face with the king of these heights, the chamois, which races off, putting distance between us in a few seconds, never to meet again.
My goals here are very clear, to catch good sized trout and some stunning char. With trout I usually adapt to the needs of the day and the size of fish I can find in the lakes I know, but I have two key premises. First, not to cast to just any fish that comes my way, but to be selective, and look for big one. Second, to try to catch them on dry fly. The sensations that I experience, stalking and waiting for them to be at casting distance and let me place a “foam bug� or a #18 diptera, is a pleasure hard to beat, an almost sickening emptiness. Seconds become eternal, everything goes in slow motion, they are the queens of the river and take the fly without fear. The strike must also be that way, controlled, sure that trout has taken.
Chars are curious, wildly beautiful, aggressive and competitive feeding fish. In fishing for them, the main thing is the location of waters in which there are stable populations. The more virgin these places, the more likely you will find great char. Small char group together and are always hungry; they can sometimes hinder the catching of larger specimens, due to their great competitiveness after the fly. On the other hand it is not uncommon to have a small one on and suddenly a big fish appears from nowhere, trying to swallow it. They are not usually very selective, being catchable both on the surface or with nymphs and streamers.
The sad part is that some of these small paradises that were one home to healthy populations of char with good specimens, are in clear decline -some of them fished out- by human action and poaching.
The gear I use has few secrets. A 9 foot rod for #6 line with progressive action that allows me to cast both big flies, streamers and nymphs, as well as when fishing with small flies and fine tippets. Fast action rods are useless for this purpose, and it is harder to make delicate presentations. WF lines with a progressive profile, and leaders depending on the circumstances, the topography of the lake, wind conditions, etc. One last recommendation, the high mountains test you constantly. Go well prepared and aware of your personal limitations, it is essential to avoid a dangerous situation.
Nacho Puyal Fly fisherman and photographer for over 20 years, Nacho is an enthusiastic to spread fly fishing and photography in Spain. To learn more about him you can visit his Facebook page Fly Fishing and Photography Spain
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With over 65,000 registered anglers, it is the first global network for fly fishermen only. Fly dreamers has a section with the best contents shared by users, another section for Fishing Reports and a fly-fishing Directory.
The Global Fly Fishing Network
Fly dreamers is the first global fly-fishing network. It’s a place that offers all kinds of solutions to fly fishermen. The website has the best contents that were shared, classified and geolocated by users stored in an organized Library. The anglers can also plan their fishing trips with the special sections of Fishing Reports and the Directory, in which they can contact guides, agents and lodges. The founders of Fly dreamers are Luis San Miguel, a civil engineer, and Nicolås Schwint, a veterinarian. Both have always been bonded by the passion for fly fishing. In late 2010, coming back from a golden dorado fly-fishing trip in Corrientes (Argentina), they had a long talk concerning the lack of conservational activities related to fishing resources. They determined to start a project based in Argentina, but with global reach. They believed that by gathering a skilled team they could create a space to share their view on conservation with other anglers from around the globe. Their dream was to get back to the basics of this ancient sport. They knew that the information
about fly fishing in the Internet was sometimes disorganized and poor. First, they thought about a blog with quality info from around the world, managed by themselves and with some contributors. Later on, another idea arose: creating a 2.0 site where world anglers could connect, share stories and access all kinds of products and services related to the sport. In a time when networks were booming, the flyfishing community claimed their space for complete expression. That’s how Fly dreamers was born, a meeting point made for those who live and dream about fly fishing. Most anglers spend most of their time in their jobs, far from the water. With this in mind, Fly dreamers came up with a place where they could stay in touch with their passion. They created this network combining the best available tools in order to deliver a unique experience. In November of 2011, the dream came true: Fly dreamers went online. Then, in early 2013, the offices were opened and the team was created. Today, Fly dreamers has more than 150,000
photos; 4,000 videos; 800 articles and 300 step-by-step tying instructions. Social Network and Library. In the Social Network section, users share their photos, videos, articles, reports and SbS tying instructions. This is posted on a wall that is permanently renovated, displaying new contents at all times. When one of these receives several votes, it is then stored in the Library, where the best contents are organized. Directory and Fishing Reports. Fly dreamers has an exclusive Directory for those who offer guiding services, casting and tying instructions, travel and lodging. In this new section, anglers can plan their trips by contacting guides, instructors, outfitters, agents, lodges and fishing hotels from around the globe. The users can make the best choice for their next adventures by seeing the ratings and opinions other users have left on the Directory profiles.
In addition to the Directory, Fly dreamers launched a new section in which fly fishermen are able to upload Fishing Reports from any spot around the world. Conservation Today, there are 6,700 million persons in the planet, and the human impact on the ecosystem can be reduced by creating global awareness. Fly dreamers will support that cause by backing diverse water conservation projects and educating communities about the importance of protecting the resources. To do this, they will destine 5% of their income. In the midterm, the network will
also offer anglers the possibility of making online donations to projects about conservation of water resources. Magazine Fly dreamers released a magazine that offers the readers selected information of the world of fly fishing. It is printed in Spanish every three months and it can be acquired through the Spanish version of the website. In it, the readers will find interviews, articles, photography, news, events, techniques and tips, travel opportunities, professional profiles and tying instructions, among many other contents.
Enjoy Argentina. Andes Drifters style.
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Rods, Carp and Cameras Photos: JosĂŠ H. Weigand and Carlos del Rey
Š Carlos del Rey
Š Carlos del Rey
Š Carlos del Rey
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Issue #25 Winter 2015