The Essence of Tenkara Fly-Fishing

“When I’m on the stream a childlike enthusiasm takes over. I’m catching fish with a rod, a line and a fly, with almost the bare minimum. It’s just cool.”

Anthony Naples

Tenkara fly-fishing might be steeped in ancient Japanese history but it’s not mystical in any manner. It was designed to be practical and efficient – to put food on the table, if you will, in ancient Japan. Although the tenkara rod is made with modern, high-tech materials today, the rod, lines and flies of tenkara have changed little over time. Here in the United States as tenkara continues to grow in popularity, there are those who remain decidedly woven to the very ancient and traditional means of tenkara. Then there are those who love tenkara for its simplicity and effectiveness on the stream but are willing to widen the experience by blending in some Western fly patterns that tenkara purists will shun. Of course, I believe each to his own and all should get along merrily since we are all after the same thing: The solitude of fishing cold, clear water and catching trout on a fly. Galhardo: I believe the essence of tenkara lies in keeping it simple, and only using the essentials, while coupling the basic tools with experience and technique. One of the easiest ways to understand tenkara is to look at the original tenkara angler. The original tenkara angler was very poor and didn’t have access to a tackle shop or accessories. He only used what was absolutely necessary and he was effective at using tenkara techniques to catch a lot of fish.

We can realize that in tenkara we only need a rod, line (plus tippet) and fly – nothing else. After all, for a long time tenkara anglers have been successful without using much else.

For example, rather than buying and carrying split-shot, I know I can sink my fly by using a couple of techniques: Either cast upstream from a small plunge and sink my fly and line by using the currents or work my fly slowly into deeper water by bringing it back and letting it sink on its way downstream. Or, rather than using floatant I can either false-cast my fly to keep it on the surface, impart some drag or simply know that I can also catch fish with a dry fly that has become submerged. This reasoning can be applied to all other accessories most people think are “essential.“ It also helps to accept the limitations in tenkara – for example, I can’t sink my fly deep and fast with tenkara if I don’t use split shot; and I can’t cast 100 feet away. But it is important to know that most of these limitations can be overcome with experience and practice or by working around situations. It is very liberating, I think, to not have to rely on anything but the essential. And, to me personally, that is one of the essences of tenkara. Understanding that my technique is more important than gear and accessories goes a long way in making fly-fishing simpler and adds a new and fascinating dimension to my fishing experience.

Vertrees: I’ve taken tenkara to a wide variety of water in Colorado. I’ve fished everything where trout live, from old irrigation ditches no more than a foot across, to remote alpine streams and high lakes, to one of Colorado’s biggest rivers, the Arkansas River, and everything inbetween. I most enjoy shouldering my backpack and heading up into the backcountry for up to a week at a time, visiting places anglers seldom venture to … high, wild, lonely places where the trees are short and the water is fast and bone cold. This is really where tenkara shines. The deep, dry, remote canyons near my home in south-central Colorado hold a special place in my heart. Naples: There are some “philosophical” or intellectual things that appeal to me about tenkara and drew me to it initially. Some of my initial interest in tenkara was related to the idea that it was out of the mainstream, not many folks were doing it. Some of the appeal of tenkara was reactionary to the current trends in fly-fishing, which were toward more complicated techniques and flies and more expensive, more hightech gear. I first heard of tenkara at the same general time that Sharkskin

lines and Orvis Helios rods were coming out and being marketed heavily. Not to mention all the machined aircraft aluminum trout reels with drags that could stop a tuna. And when I read a recipe for a fly in one of the magazines, I didn’t recognize half of the materials or know where I could even get them. Much of this seemed pretty unnecessary for the fishing that I wanted to do (i.e., small stream trout fishing). I wasn’t naïve and I understood that it (fly-fishing) is an industry and that’s how it goes. Nonetheless, I was being turned off. So, along came tenkara with the notion of simplicity. A rod, a line, a fly – simple. It came at just the time that I was looking, maybe subconsciously, for something simpler. Simplicity is a big part of it.

Anthony Naples and Jason Klass with their tenkara game faces on.

There’s also an aesthetic or creative appeal to it that I enjoy. Creativity often comes from imposing limitations on you and not from indulging in complete freedom. Limitations make you exercise your creativity in a way that freedom doesn’t. Tenkara with its fixed-line is a limitation. Sure the long rod offsets some of that with a great reach, and tenkara offers some things that Western fishing doesn’t. But on the whole I feel that it

is reductive and more limiting than Western-style fly-fishing. Some will argue that tenkara is not limiting, but that’s how I feel about it. By limiting what the gear can do, I am now made to think about fly-fishing differently. I look at the stream differently, I consider it in smaller pieces, because I can’t cast all over the place. I take in my surroundings differently; the extra long rod makes me consider the overhead trees with much more scrutiny. If I’m fishing traditional tenkara with unweighted flies, and no added weight, I need to consider the stream’s hydrodynamics more carefully in order to sink my fly. Lacking a reel I need to be more careful about having a conscious plan to land a fish. With tenkara I feel like I need to be more creative and intentional. I’m more in touch with my surroundings, a little more at their mercy, more on their terms, rather than making it on my terms. From a completely practical fly-fishing viewpoint I think the thing about tenkara that appeals to me most is stealth. The extremely flexible rod with its supple tip allows you to fish these ultralight lines – really more akin to normal fly-fishing leaders than to fly lines. So you have absolutely no heavy fly line slapping the water spooking fish. Fish, even eager, hungry brookies in an infertile mountain stream can be extremely spooky. I think many fly anglers don’t realize how many fish they’re never going to catch because they’ve spooked them. My eyes were opened to this fact when I started catching fish in skinny water on my tenkara rod – fish that I wasn’t picking up on my Western gear. You’re definitely much more likely to catch fish when they don’t know you’re there, and the light tenkara line and long reach of the rod make this easier. I see this as tenkara’s single most important practical aspect. I was attracted to tenkara initially for some intellectual reasons, but stayed with it because I found it to be an effective and aesthetically pleasing way to fish. When I’m on the stream a childlike enthusiasm takes over. I’m catching fish with a rod, a line and a fly, with almost the bare minimum. It’s just cool. Klass: At first, I basically used “tenkara as a tool,” as they say. That means using a tenkara rod and line, but with Western flies and terminal tackle, like strike indicators, split shot for nymphing, etc…. But my tenkara style has evolved and I’ve made a commitment to practicing tenkara in the more traditional sense.

The stock answer for why people enjoy tenkara seems to be “simplicity,” but I think there’s more to it. For me, it’s not mere simplicity but the

challenge. Throughout the course of my 20-plus years of fly-fishing, I’ve tried just about every piece of gear, technique and fly you could imagine. After a while, there was nothing new under the sun. But tenkara offered the opportunity to give me a new challenge. Something different. Some very experienced hunters I know late in their hunting careers traded in their high-tech rifles for muzzle loaders, or compound bows for more traditional flatbows, because they’ve already mastered the basics. They craved a new challenge and using simpler, more traditional gear offered that challenge. Tenkara is a chance to truly test my skills by stripping away my dependence on gear. Initially, the idea of fishing with such minimal gear was a little intimidating, but I truly believe it’s made me a better angler because now I believe in myself more than my gear. Kuhlow: I discovered tenkara back in 2009 during a random web search looking for compact fishing equipment. Back then, I was still using spin gear for all of my fishing. I came across a reference to tenkara and wondered what it was. I looked at Tenkara USA’s website and became intrigued. I had always wanted to fly-fish since I was a kid but the cost and complexity had kept me from taking the plunge. Tenkara was the perfect ticket to entering the fly fishing world. I purchased my first tenkara rod in March 2010 and I have never looked back. It has been nothing but a positive experience. For where and what I like to fish for, it’s perfect. I really enjoy hiking through the woods and finding those “thin blue lines” and fishing for wild brook trout. Every aspect of tenkara is perfect for this. Lansky: To me, it’s foremost just fun. I love how simple and easy fly fishing can be if you are willing to free yourself of preconceived notions, pounds of equipment and accessories. I love how I can do pinpoint casts into tiny pockets that I couldn’t have fished effectively with a Western fly rod. I am now a much more active fisherman, trying different presentations in each pool. I start out with a couple dead drifts and then a few more presentations manipulating the fly to make it look alive. Stewart: Back in 2007, no one sold tenkara rods in the U.S. and I had no idea how to import a rod myself. I decided the closest I could probably come would be to use a crappie pole, primarily because of the length. I bought several crappie poles, trying to find one that would cast

a line and fly rather than a bobber, split shot and worm. Most weren’t very effective. I got my first real tenkara rod in January 2008 as a gift from a Japanese angler living in California. I had started a thread on a fly-fishing forum asking if anyone in the U.S. knew anything about tenkara. He replied and offered to send me a rod. He didn’t know me at all, but he said he had more rods than he needed and he wanted to help introduce tenkara to the U.S.

For all of 2008 and into 2009 until Tenkara USA opened, I fished with that tenkara rod and with one of the panfish poles that was a bit shorter and allowed me to fish in tighter spots. Tenkara fishing was a revelation. I got great drifts. I caught lots of fish. I loved it. I haven’t fished with a fly rod since. I guess there are three main things I like about tenkara: 1.) I get great drifts and thus catch more fish than I did before; 2.) I really like the very direct connection you get with a fish that can’t take line; and 3.) I like the portability of tenkara rods compared to fly rods. Worthing: Not too long after I started fishing tenkara, I found out Daniel Galhardo, owner and founder of Tenkara USA, was coming to Salt Lake for a small event. Two members of the Tenkara USA forum, ERiK Ostrander and John Vetterli, had arranged the event. ERiK was a Salt Lake City local. John was a Park City native but had recently moved to California.

The event was held at a local fly shop, right around the corner from my house. Daniel gave a quick evening talk about what tenkara was all about, followed by the usual milling about and exchange of ideas. The crowd gradually dispersed until the only ones left were myself, ERiK, John and Daniel. So we went for sushi. That sushi dinner was the first time ERiK, John and I met one another. It was also the first time the three of us met Daniel.

The next morning, the fly shop group met up on the Provo River for an on-stream demo. At the time, I figured I had been doing pretty well fishing tenkara. Then I saw Daniel, and realized I hadn’t even scratched the surface. That day, Daniel taught me how to cast – I mean really cast tenkara – using a muscle memory technique. To this day, I continue to use a muscle memory technique when working with clients to refine their cast.

After the event, John headed back to California. ERiK and I stayed in Salt Lake. We realized we had a lot in common. Both of us were avid climbers and all-around outdoorsy types. And both of us had a propensity toward going full bore into anything we started. So we started hanging out. And by hanging out, I mean we embarked on an insane year of continuous fly-fishing so obsessive it bordered on religion. Honestly, I can’t believe either one of us still have wives. ERiK and I fished as a team, covering miles and miles of Western water, experimenting with every technique and fly variation we came across. The learning curve was steep. John moved back to Utah after a few months, two heads turned into three and the learning curve turned into a cliff. I fell into as much knowledge and skill in that one year as I had in a lifetime of fishing up to that point. There are a lot of aspects to tenkara that I enjoy. The solitude you find fishing waters that most Western fly-fishermen ignore. The simplicity of rod, line and fly. The emphasis on skillful presentation. But it’s that team approach to fishing that I discovered with ERiK and John that keeps me reaching for my tenkara rod day after day. Vetterli: There are many aspects of tenkara that I find interesting, mysterious and puzzling. One of the aspects I have come to truly appreciate is that because I am relying more on skill and technique, I feel more connected to the environment where I am fishing. With less whizbangs, doodads and fishing clutter to mess with, I am free to be an integral part of an environment that is totally alien to humans. I quietly stalk a wary adversary who lives in a place I cannot. I have to study his environment. Get low on my knees in the water and examine the slight currents, eddies, riffles and pools in order to attempt to predict where the elusive little buggers are in the water. I listen to the water, the wind, the birds. I observe the insects, the sky and cloud cover. I pay attention to where my shadows are on the water. I move with slow, cautious intent and try to be as quiet moving through the water as possible. It is then that I scan overhead and behind for obstructions and make the cast.

After a short drift, WHAM! The fish strikes and the hook is set. It is that exact moment that I am one with my surroundings, both above and

below the water. Everything is in sync and the moment is both fleeting and powerful. My heart always skips a beat when the moment of the strike happens. That moment between two heartbeats, everything in life is perfect.

Ostrander: I enjoy the fish-slaying aspects of tenkara the most. Some people go fishing to be in nature, some people fish for time alone. I fish because I like tricking fish. I am the fish devil. I take something simple and pure, like feathers and steel, and use it to put fish under my power … and then I let them go. Gibson: In January of 2011, I was finally able to try tenkara on a local river that I had only ever had marginal success on. In the first three casts I had landed my first tenkara fish. On the fifth cast, my second. I was instantly hooked and in a matter of just a few hours I knew that I not only loved tenkara in style and function, but I also knew that just fishing with this style would never be enough. I knew that I would have to do more with tenkara than to simply fish with it. I wanted to share tenkara with as many people as I could. As the past couple of years have continued to develop I have found a true joy in helping others discover and appreciate tenkara. My own growth within the traditions, techniques and subtleties of tenkara has continued to develop into a full-blown passion.