With 14 days until the campaign is complete, we are currently at 110% of our initial fundraising goal, thanks t the support of 121 backers.
I’ve said it many times, but I want to thank everyone who has taken action on the campaign, and my all volunteer team says a big THANK YOU too.
Naturally, I set my sights on delivering an even more spectacular set of books on Day Three of our campaign. I’d love to be able to upgrade the quality of the cover from the initial specs we submitted to the printers, add more color images to the interior, increase the overall page count of the two volume set, and …….
I have a secret plan too, an enhancement I’m not going to mention because I’m not sure if it will be economically feasible. All of these optional enhancements to Salmon Fisher’s Journal will be fun if we can pull them off. As it stands, the book will be something that I am very, very proud of delivering. I’ve always been a person who has difficulty letting go of a task that I have set my sights on. Publishing this journal as a collector’s quality book is something I’ve been working on for two decades.
The bridge between dreaming and delivering is about to be traversed.
So — rest assured that we’ve succeeded in securing the backing to produce and deliver. My efforts over the next two weeks are focused on pushing the standards of what we can publish even further into the spectacular zone.
This is a very short video that records highlights from a recent (mid July) trip on my friend Kevin’s dory. Kevin, Rob, and I fly fished for Pacific black rockfish and had a very enjoyable day on the ocean out of Pacific City.
The video shows the process of dumping the dory off the trailer, a little of the fishing, and the run onto the beach at the end of the trip.
Several people have asked for video of the launching process, so I hope this helps people understand the what is involved when we launch into the surf. I note that the ocean was very calm on this day.
If you examine the image above closely, you will see the small splash of a skipjack taking my fly in the upper left corner of the photo. You might also be able to see that there is a slight upturn in the tip of the 10 wt EPR as the line is just coming under tension as I’m stripping. In the center of the image, there is surface commotion as other skipjack are crushing baitfish, throwing water into the air and generally getting all of us anglers about as adrenaline infused as possible.
The image immediately above shows my fly line leaping as it clears the deck after strip setting the hook on the previously referenced skipjack.
The final image here simply shows my 10 wt EPR fly rod under strain. This is a good kind of strain that we fly anglers all hope to experience.
Without fanfare, I can recommend the ECHO EPR unequivocally, based on my experience with the 8 and 10 wt rods, plus my long association fishing a wide variety of ECHO fly rods ranging from 4 wt glass rods to 12 wt high modulus graphite.
I invite you to read my detailed review of the EPR on the Oregon Fly Fishing Blog, but in the meantime, I’ll reiterate that you positively can’t go astray if you purchase one of these rods. Their casting ability and fish fighting power rank very favorably alongside rods that cost twice the price; their guides and handle are superbly right-sized for saltwater rods, and this is something I have not found to be true for some more expensive rods. Finally, the reel seat has the sturdiness and saltwater resistance that I expect in an ocean bound rod.
I would be pleased to answer questions you may have about this or any other fly rod I have experience with.
I just returned from a very enjoyable week fishing with Gary Bulla in Baja, La Ventana and Baja Joe’s to be more specific. Gary runs a great show for fly anglers of all skill levels and his panga captains are gentlemen as well as fly fishing mentors.
I put together a short clip of highlights from the week, of course I failed to record some of the hottest action during the week plus, I lost one of my cameras at the end of day 6 of the trip. Oh well, stuff happens don’t it?
In short, I did not catch a rooster, but I came close. Really close. I was told that you can’t retrieve too fast for the dorado and roosters, but I now question that advice, as I’m pretty sure I pulled my fly away from both species at crucial moments when they were trying to chomp it.
Again, oh well.
On day 6, our guide Fedilito cruised in near a buoy and threw a few ballyhoo to see if there were any dorado about. Well, there were three dorado ready to chase bait and they commenced to crash the surface, throwing water two feet in the air in the process.
This was my first week fishing for dorado and I had never seen fish of this size crashing around chasing bait. My angling companion for the day, Karen, commenced casting as I did. She is an experienced dorado fisher and kept her cool, but I was going nuts casting to the giant fish as it raced around in front of us. Of the three dorado we saw, two were very large and one was modest sized. We both cast and cast, Fedilito threw a few ballyhoo to keep the fish active, and — oh my gosh — the biggest dorado was chasing my fly straight towards the boat as I was retrieving! I probably only had ten feet of fly line out of my tip-top when the dorado consumed my fly and turned away from the panga.
As usual, I shouted with excitement, just like a kid.
I did not capture any of the excitement before hooking this big dorado, but it was much like the action of a few days earlier when I hooked a modest size dorado and managed to record that event on the Go Pro. I am pretty well captivated by the sight of brilliantly hued fish chasing bait and flies around in plain view. This sort of fishing excitement is something I could easily become addicted to. Oh my goodness.
Our panga captain Fedilito was as pleased as I was to have the big fish take the fly. It was a good 200 yards into my backing in a flash and jumping while I turned on the Go Pro. Fedilito cautioned me — grande dorado, no break. This fish was a real prize to a young panga captain.
Here is the video clip. I hope you enjoy it. Better still, I hope you are able to go fishing down in Baja someday yourself. I never imagined that I would make the trip but thanks to my dear friends Gui and Jim, I decided to accept their invitation to join them and I booked a trip and a flight less than two weeks notice.
Sure glad that I did.
My best to you always. May your fishing and your world be good.
This is the director’s cut of a shorter video posted on the Oregon Fly Fishing Blog. Thanks to Guy Allen who has tied and fished this fly to perfection and is always prepared to fish some version of the pattern on his yearly trip to Baja.
So. Last minute, I decided to join Guy and Jim on their adventure to Baja. I had a great time and some blog posts will follow when I get time to write them. For the week we were there, the sardina caught a few fish but the ballyhoo fly was better because there were not very many flat iron herring around. Still this is a pattern one would be foolish to omit from their Baja fly box.
I hope you enjoy the discussion as Guy and I explore the tying and fishing of this great saltwater fly.
I was on the ocean with Jeffrey and Joe, guided offshore Pacific City by Capt. John Harrell in the dory Gold Comet. The forecast was for winds to pick up by 9 AM, and there were five to six ft swells to carefully consider as we launched at 6:45.
John ran out roughly north of Haystack Rock and immediately located a big school of black rockfish suspended mid-depth in about forty feet of water. This was the first dory fly fishing experience for both Joe and Jeffrey: both were surprised and displayed big smiles within the first five minutes with fly rod in hand, nice heavy black rockfish pulling on the other end of their lines.
Capt. John put us on fish constantly for the next two hours, and the action was pretty much non-stop. The ocean was a tad on the rough side and we all took turns stumbling around in the boat while fighting fish.
Jeffrey fished an ECHO PRIME, Joe fished an ECHO BASE; both 8 wt rods, with SA 450 gr Streamer Express fast sinking fly lines. Their flies were of course expertly tied me, # 2 pink & white Clousers. Bass were layered anywhere from ten feet under the dory to 40 or 50 ft down.
I chose a different approach, and deploying a Hatch Tropical 400 gr fast sinking fly line, fished by hand, straight off the fly reel. This was a continuation of my previous day’s test fishing with a 30 ft salvaged chunk fly of line. Today, I had a full fly line on a (loose) reel, allowing me to reach fish that were laying deeper than when I had only fished the thirty-footer.
My technique was no-nonsense efficiency. I stripped about fifty feet of line from the reel, laid it in the tackle tray, and lowered my fly overboard to swim though the feeding bass. When I felt my line under tension, indicating that my fly was down, I proceeded to put my Clouser in motion, with short 6 inch strips and distinct pauses between.
I found myself most comfortable leaning against the side of the dory, back near the stern, and leaning over the side with my hand a foot or so above the water’s surface, working the fly and waiting to feel a grab. I discovered that somewhat it was tricky to achieve a secure hook set by hand, compared to fishing with a rod. The rod allows one to move more line quickly, but when hand-lining, I found it necessary to quickly and decisively raise my arm to get a positive hook set.
Feel the grab? Man-oh-man did I feel the grab. I had so darn much fun and thoroughly enjoyed the two hours we fished over the bass. Capt. John had his hands full with Jeffrey, Joe, and me constantly fighting fish, hauling our fish into the dory, destined for the fish box, and occasionally helping untangle our lines.
Considerable teasing was directed my way, with commentary noting that the guy with such an extensive supply of fly rods seemed to have forgotten to bring one.
John smiled noted that I was doing a fair job of holding my own in the catching department, and wondering if this might become a technique known as Jaykara fishing. Catchy term contrasting Tenkara fishing (using a rod but no reel) to my fishing a line with no rod.
Think I like it.
Now that I think of it, the first fish I ever caught were in the Bosphorus, near Istanbul, Turkey, when I was six years old. Now I’m 66 and find that hand lining is just as much fun, just as exciting, as it was six decades ago.
May sound repetitious, but it’s true: another great day out on the ocean fly fishing. Thanks gentlemen.
Looking forward to the next opportunity to get out and see what the ocean delivers to the finely tuned fly rod and reel – and to the hand-liner.