A stranger in a strange land...

I've been out a few times over the last few weeks. Most of time has been spent trying to find good local waters; streams and/or ponds that I can visit when I have a free hour or two.

The Ipswich River is very close to my home and it receives a fair amount of press--both good and bad--from locals. Recent scouting trips have been underwhelming. The stream just doesn't seem to hold very high densities of fishes (at least in the upper sections). Now, I am not expecting ~500 trout/mile--in fact I am not really looking for trout per se--but I would like to find a wadeable stream/pond that holds decent numbers of centrarchids, esocids, and/or maybe a few sizable cyprinids (e.g., Semotilus and Cyprinus). I've landed a single Lepomis macrochirus and from the looks of things, the stream should hold Micropterus in abundance; where the latter are hiding is a mystery. And the lack of pickerel and minnows is a little more than disturbing...perhaps there are larger water quality issues here than I suspect.

The local pond in Breakheart Reservation is fishing well but has been invaded by weekend warriors. That latter is fine by me, but they set-up camp--with rod, bait bucket, and cooler--in most of the places where casting a fly rod is easy. And every time someone sees me fly fishing, I get that look like..."are you lost? you do know that trout aren't stocked here, right?" Really, I don't mind company while fishing, but two's company and three's a crowd...you know how the saying goes.

The carp flat in Lake Quannopowitt is also devoid of life. Holly and I spent the better part of an hour looking for Cyprinus carpio; we didn't see any. The lake used to have a reputation for holding large Esox niger, so I brought my 7 weight and a few trusty bait-fish patterns and made a few hundred casts in a very "pikey" looking cove...nada. We didn't see any centrarchids spawning in the shallows either; more of mysteries to consider.

Finally, I chose a overcast and windy day to head out to the Parker River. I launched the canoe at Thurlow street and paddled downstream to Crane Pond. I had heard stories of large pickerel and good populations of centrachids. That the stream is also stocked with trout, and might also have holdovers, was a plus.  Long story short, I managed to hook my first pickerel with fly rod, but lost the bugger at the gunnel. I managed to also catch a decent Perca flavescens and explored much of the pond and downs stream reaches (Hemlocks section) of the Parker. The fishing was really slow (no big surprise there, right?); the marsh and surrounding area reminded me of southern Louisiana.

Being in a new place should be exciting. A sense of adventure every time I head out to wet a line. I don't know what it is exactly, but I think I am a growing a little frustrated with the "newness". The poor quality of fishing near home and over crowding of decent spots is probably correlated with urbanization in Eastern Massachusetts. However, I lived smack-dab in the middle of New Orleans and had great freshwater and saltwater fishing 5 minutes from the house; go figure. My time is more limited now; my family is growing and I value spending time at home with my girls. I cant' and won't spend 2-3 days a week fishing, looking for those sweet spots. A lack of patience coupled with limited time makes for a unhappy me.

I am seriously considering heading to the coast and chasing Morone and Pomotamus on the fly; sound like a good idea? After all, the North Shore of Massachusetts has world-class fishing for these species. Gah, learning a new fishery can be a bitch... I see more "newness" in my future...

Something old is something new

I am a newly minted father and my daughter, Holly, is now ten months old. She can't (really) walk yet and since I am mostly unemployed and provide most of the daycare, I've devised a method to baby-sit while fishing (brilliant, I know). 

It is a simple method really; she rides in the BABYBJÖRN Comfort Carrier and together we stalk the banks of local ponds and lakes looking for fish and fishy spots to cast. I get a lot of, "oooh that's so cute", and "is that your bait" from bystanders. I just grin, usually mumble an insult, and keep walking.


On our maiden voyage, we took a noon-day stroll around the local town lake which I had never fished before. The weather was (finally) nice and we were hoping to tempt a few early season centrarchids to bite.

Initially, we didn't see any sign of panfish, or much of anything really. This lake is fairly turbid, apparently due to a proliferation of suspended algae (Lake Quannapowitt). Since the lake is so shallow (e.g., avg. depth ~ 10') and it surrounded by so many, nicely groomed lawns (i.e., lots of fertilizer and  thus Nitrogen), moderate eutrophication is not surprising. 

Lake Quannapowitt looking North along the Carp flat

Anyway, we continued to walk and stalk, casting to fishy looking spots until up ahead, under the tree shown in the picture above, we saw a disturbance and what appeared to be a "fin" sticking out of the water...

...and this is where things started to get exciting.

Now, I lived in Louisiana for ~6 years and I spent a fair share of my time stalking benthic-oriented drum and sheepshead on mud bottomed flats. Disturbed water and fins sticking out of the water always indicated hungry and actively feeding fish.

This is, of course, a freshwater lake, so there a only a few freshwater species that might exhibit this behavior; I immediately thought carp and huddled down a bit so that I could get a closer to confirm my initial identification.

As I slowly approached my target, the broad, golden flank of Cyprinus carpio materialized in the murky water. Actually there were two carp feeding very close together and my heart beat a little faster.

I asked Holly, "you think they'll take a wooly bugger?"

Holly responded, "dahhh, doo, doo, bah, bah!"

"Yeah", I said, "I probably should switch to the Jitterbee, that water is pretty murky"

"Gah, Gah, yah, yah, hrmph" was the reply from Holly.

Based on the advice from my young gillie, I switched flies and checked my knots. Those fish were pushing 5 lbs.

"Dahh, dahh, dud, doo" Holly whispered.

"Yeah, yeah...I know, keep a low profile and put the fly about 2' in front of the closest fish", I replied quietly.

Sure enough, I put my first cast right in the sweet spot and the closest fish suddenly perked up and glided slowly over to the fly.

A very subtle twitch of the leader was all that was needed before I set the hook...

...exhilaration, now I'm solidly hooked to a surprised, and now very pissed-off, torpedo. Zing right, then left, accelerate straight out, and back. It was a good fight and after a few minutes, the beast allowed me to slide it near my feet on the bank. And this is the point at which my new method of baby sitting got a little complicated...

I could not bend over far enough to get a two-handed purchase on the fish; I had 18 lbs of "fishing guide" strapped to my chest. I also cursed myself for using 4X tippet, as the lip of the bank was to tall to slide the fish up on to the grass without breaking the line.

"So, what do you think Holly?"

"Gah, gah, daah, dahh, doo"

"Yeah, I should make a desperate, one-handed grab for the tail or maybe the operculum."

SNAP! the line broke as the fish surged away from my meaty paw, splashing both of us with murky water in indignation.

"Yahh, heee, heee, heee!!" screamed Holly in joy

"Twah, pftttt" I spat trying to get most of the algae stained water from my mouth.

"Well, that was fun...lets see if we can find any more "torpedos", I told my guide.

"Yah, Yah, Yah, Yah, hrmph" she replied excitedly.

South facing view of the Carp flat

We continued stalking and found a few more feeding carp. I hooked another nice fish of ~6 lbs, but lost it in similar fashion right at the bank; I think I might need to bring a long handled net.

The area that we were fishing is perfect for stalking carp. It is a shallow, broad, soft-to-hard bottomed flat that extends for several yards out into the lake. The area along the bank is a well groomed, flat lawn with safe and easy walking with your "guide". There are very few obstacles, besides joggers and dog walkers, to snag your backcast.

Even better, the carp population seems healthy and I saw few fish under 3 lbs. A return trip a few days later revealed even more carp but no takes since they were more interested in propagating the species than eating my imitations.

I love catching carp on the fly. I used to catch them with flies when I was a young child. When I lived in the Roanoke Valley (VA) I used to frequent a few urban ponds that were full of carp. When I was a guide, I would occasionally bring my clients, after a long day of trout fishing, to these ponds to hook and play 5+ lbs carp on 4 weight rods. It sometimes doubled my tip.

Besides discovering that my new method of baby sitting works (for the most part) I am super, duper excited about having a healthy population of unmolested carp (I have never see anyone fishing here) within 5 minutes of my door.

See, something old is something new....