Tommy and I heard the jungle reports on the same evening and plans were made to drive to RI for a look. Two rods would be needed - heavy fly rods and spinning gear. Strong wind was blowing into faces, but I started with the fly rod and within 10 minutes of our arrival a pod of albies suddenly appeared in front of me at the exact same moment adrenalin combined with a fumbling fit to override any prior understanding I may have had about the basic workings of a fly cast. I've never had stage fright in front of a fish before.
|Backs to the wall stuff|
1. Train your eyes on the school of fish. Try to predict their direction of travel;
2. Train your hands and brain to retrieve your previous cast (which invariably is inconveniently located nowhere near where the fish have appeared);
3. Ensure that all manner of things that want to go wrong have gone perfectly right (no weed on your fly, fly line free of all tangles, no-one walking behind you?)
4. Flip bail arm/start false casting;
5. Start winding/stripping double handed, very quickly;
5a. Do all of this twice (impossible with a fly rod);
6. You're at 20 seconds, the fish are long gone and you feel mugged. For some unfathomable reason, you now believe that this is a wonderful experience and you promise yourself you'll be super ready for the next school.
7. You light a cigar and watch the ocean.
One of our four - a nice fellow who calls himself Flyfish4tuna on Flyaddict - hooked a fish, and instead of fishing to the same pod, I picked up the camera so that you, dear readers, could share the joy. The photographs don't convey the sound of the drag, but I heard it and that's why I'm dribbling, and this from a relatively small albie.
|I ain't going down there.|
|Send an Eagle Scout|
|Mr. Tuna's tuna|
Just what I need; another horribly addictive fish.