Montana Woods N Water August 2016 Print Edition | Page 22
FLY FISHING
Playing Big Fish
By Chuck Stranahan
When I was just learning this game, an older, wiser angler told
me, “Chuck, you’ll lose more big fish than you land. Don’t
expect to land the first one you hook. The odds will creep up in
your favor as you get the hang of it”. The odds have gone up,
over the years, but still, the chance of losing that big fish, once
he’s on, keeps the adrenaline flowing. The uncertainty is a big
part of the thrill. I still lose my share.
Time the strike
The first trick, with any big fish, is to get it on the hook.
Streamers are a good way to do that, any time of the season.
During the “dog days” of August, get out early. Comb the flats
adjacent to deep holding water where big trout might be
foraging for baitfish. This isn’t exotic fishing for experts only;
big fish eat little fish all the time. The trick is to hook them
when the strike occurs.
Reacting to the solid ta-tap or dull thud of a big trout hitting a
streamer amounts to one thing: you have to be sudden, solid,
Tony, grinning Jan and big Blackfoot Trout
and sure, without overstriking. Separate your hands when your
retrieve is interrupted. Move the rod to the right (assuming
you’re right-handed) and your line hand to the left to make immediate solid contact. The sunken line responds to a direct pull
better than an overhead lift, and the over-the-shoulder weak-and-too-late strike is eliminated.
A big fish will take a drifting nymph much as a smaller one will and the response from the angler is the same: lift quick until
contact is made; you’ll find out soon whether you hooked a big one or not.
Later in the day, floating flies on the water present a different batch of problems to the dry fly angler. A couple of weeks ago
my wife Jan and I celebrated our anniversary by floating the Blackfoot Canyon with Tony Reinhardt. Tony handles the outfitting
chores for my fly shop in Hamilton and is one of the finest in the business.
By the time we were halfway through the canyon Jan had landed several nice fish on dry flies. I was genuinely happy for her.
My cheerleading and praises from the back of the boat had been sincere, but eventually I wanted to get in on it. My first
opportunity came when a good-sized trout came out of the darkness beneath a mid-river ledge, slowly ascending toward my
fly. It took – almost in slow motion – and I responded immediately. A big miss.
Too much adrenaline. Too quick a response. That big fish hadn’t even closed its mouth on the fly. When they come up slow and
deliberate, as that one did, they close their mouths on the descent.
The rule: Time the strike to the rhythm of the rise. Quick
splashy rise, quick response. Slower sipping rise, wait a
nanosecond longer. Slow deliberate roll, slow deliberate
strike. Easier said than done, sometimes, especially when
anticipation is high and reflexes are rusty. A couple of fish
later I managed to remember my own advice: I didn’t strike
until even Tony was afraid I had waited too long; the fish was
clearly headed for the bottom when I came up. This time I
was hooked up – solid.
“Get ‘em on the reel!” This piece of bad advice, imbedded in
our angling folklore, has cost countless anglers a lot of big
fish. Continued on page 21.
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