Kayda looked at me pathetically, her blonde nose marked with a hundred
small swollen bumps. I checked her
belly to find little red spots all over her skin. The mosquitos were eating her alive. As they descended on me in a
thick swarm, I unleashed the middle finger for bugs: DEET. I sprayed the air, my hat, my hands, then rubbed the
horrible face melting chemical on Kayda’s fur.
Despite
the incessant buzzing and excessive clothing, in my mind I’m still in Baja. I know....shame on me.
Live in the present. But no one here seems to blame me as I waltz around with my sun
kissed skin. It was warm, sunny,
and required less clothes.
Plus,
we had a great season this year of fish, friends, and family. I was pretty worn out after thirty days
of guests then turning around twenty-four hours later beginning the journey here
into the cold arms of Bristol Bay, yet I enjoyed that time immensely.
In early May, Justin's family arrived on the scene anxious to hit the beach searching for roosters. We managed to find fish most days and always succeeded at laughing and enjoying each other's company. This set a precedent for our guests throughout the month.
In early May, Justin's family arrived on the scene anxious to hit the beach searching for roosters. We managed to find fish most days and always succeeded at laughing and enjoying each other's company. This set a precedent for our guests throughout the month.
Nonetheless, fly fishing
from the beach challenges even the best of anglers. It undeniably lies in your hands to control your adrenaline,
breathe, cast precisely, and strip insanely fast. And it takes practice.
We
met a fair amount of anglers throughout our daily beach trips often frustrated
at the lack of fish to hand but exhilarated by the ability to see how close
they may have come to a hook up. I
like to say that while winter steelhead fishing requires faith, roosterfish-ing
requires confidence. And we all
know most anglers have backpacks full of that stuff- just ask them.
But
as the roosterfish will have it, they don’t come as easy as most would like and
it’s probably a more true statement to say roosterfish-ing requires
perserverance. Fishing from the
beach involves intensive scanning of the water, from the shore to the blue line, looking
for the very distinctive dark shape of a roosterfish. Once you’ve made a cast (after sprinting through wet sand,
of course) you get to watch the fish do one of several things:
Ignore your unrealistic fly,
slowly follow your poorly tied fly,
chase up on your fly rapidly then turn away as you strip the
fly to your feet,
or rush your fly, comb up, then open it’s mouth choosing to
devour your awesome fly
or you strip it straight from it’s open mouth.
I
haven’t even discussed line management yet, and as described above, any number
of things lie dormant just waiting to go wrong. The best part?
You get to watch it all go down. And I’ve seen more people rashly flip off the Sea of
Cortez than any other body of water, hell I’ve done it…several times.
But
not this year. I’d gladly take those reactions back, hug that place, and slip into its bath
water for a quick swim before running down the beach again... sans waders, boots,
jackets, and of course, DEET.
