I suspect that the fly-fishing gene had always lay dormant in my angling DNA. Inklings of it surfaced early in life when, at age 26, I signed up for a summer freshwater fly-fishing class at the local recreation center. But it was never to be. A day later our 18-month-old first son contracted life-threatening spinal meningitis, and all other plans faded to pale memories as my wife and I spent weeks at the hospital overseeing his treatment and, fortunately, his recovery. My wife was pregnant with our second son at the time, and little did I know that he would become the person to introduce me to fly fishing. It just took 44 years to get there.

In the autumn of 2023, I traveled to northern Utah where my middle son, Joshua, now resides with his wife and two kids. The plans had called for fishing a big lake called Strawberry Reservoir to troll for kokanee salmon — a strain of landlocked sockeye salmon known for its great taste. But gale winds had different plans, putting a halt to venturing out on this high-mountain lake and risking treacherous weather.

A Fly-Fishing Plan Comes Together

Joshua instead organized a float trip with his buddy Jeff Harwin on the lower Provo River to target big brown trout. Harwin runs Park City Flyfishing and Joshua is one of his guides, but this trip would be busman’s holiday for both of them with a caveat: fly fishing only. More to the point, dry flies exclusively.

“Woof!” I exclaimed. “You guys know that I have never fly-fished. Like ever.”

“That’s Okay!” Harwin hollered to me in the front of the boat, above the din of roaring Provo waters as we pushed into the first set of rapids. “It’s easy,” he said, while working the oars. “You know how to fish, so you’ll learn quickly.”

I turned to Joshua with a WTF expression. He was less reassuring. “The river’s moving pretty fast and we have gusty headwinds, so you’re going to have to cast quickly and with some power to hit the prime spots. Just listen to Jeff and do exactly what he says.”

Trouble with the Backcast

As we entered a slow section of the river, Harwin began calling out spots. “See that undercut bank on the left just ahead? Put your fly tight to the shore!” he barked. But rather than focusing on the spots, I grew concerned with my backcast, a cautionary precept drilled into the minds of West Coast saltwater anglers from a young age to avoid injuring anyone behind you. I missed spot after spot, and was beginning to think I would never learn.

“Don’t worry about the backcast,” Harwin said. “If you’re casting correctly, you won’t hit us. Stop that side-arm $#*!. Hold the rod high on the back cast, wait for it to load, and then come forward. The line will go well over our heads.”

I drew a deep breath and tried to relax while keeping Harwin’s coaching in mind. Joshua, an expert fly-caster in his own right, remained remarkably silent, knowing that Harwin possessed decades more experience and sensed that I might reach a point of overload if he too piped in.

My First Brown Trout

My fortunes turned around as we exited the next section of whitewater and slipped into the roiling pool below. “Put your fly next to the fallen tree,” Harwin said. I amazed myself by hitting the target. “Now give it a big mend up river.” I complied. “Good job, now let ’er hunt.”

Seconds later, a nice brown trout rolled on the dry fly, and I set the hook. This is what I came for. Harwin coached me through the fight. His first command: “Get it on the reel!” I let the excess fly line slip through my fingers. “Hold that rod high and keep a big bend in it, and keep your hands off the reel until I tell you to reel,” he said.

The last thing I wanted was to break off the first fish I ever hooked on a fly. That would piss everyone off, including me. So I followed Harwin’s advice to a tee, except for one little mistake. I kept lowering the rod, a habit born of years of battling saltwater fish in which high-sticking is a cardinal sin. “This isn’t saltwater fishing,” Harwin barked. “Get that rod high! Once it stops bending, crank in some line.”

After what seemed like an excruciating amount of time, the brown trout finally slipped into the landing net. Joshua finally spoke up. “That’s how you do it Dad,” he said, his voice cracking. For all of his outdoorsy toughness, like his mom, he is an easy cry. Not only was this my first fly-caught fish, but also my personal best brown trout, estimated at around 18 inches before we released it.

A Lean, Mean Fly-Fishing Machine

We went on that day to land six more brown trout amid nearly twice as many “eats” on dry flies between Joshua and I before reaching the haul-out point. Both Joshua and Harwin later admitted over lunch that my introduction to fly-fishing—indeed dry-fly fishing, the pinnacle of the sport—took place under some of the worst conditions possible. They were pleasantly surprised that such an old tyro could prevail.

The next day the weather improved, lending us an opportunity to visit Strawberry to troll for kokanee. “That’d be nice, but I’d like to go fly-fishing again,” I said to Joshua. His eyes lit up. “I know right where to go.”

We hooked up the Lund aluminum fishing boat and headed out to a beautiful lake in a picturesque high-mountain valley in the Wasatch National Forest, and for four solid hours caught rainbow trout, cutthroat trout and Arctic grayling (a bucket-list species for me). We caught and released more than 50 fish, giving me an incredible opportunity to hone my fly-fishing skills. I fished nothing but dry flies, even when Joshua asked if I wanted to try fishing a nymph. “Nope,” I answered. “I’m hardcore now—it’s dry-fly or die.”

Yes, I definitely possess the fly-fishing gene. As such, there’s a lot catching up to do, and I plan to enjoy every minute.

The post Dry-Fly or Die appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

Stripping only the fly line off your reel that you plan to cast in a given situation decreases the likelihood of it snagging something, blowing overboard or creating frustrating snarls. But even if you own a boat designed with fly-fishing in mind—a flats skiff, for instance—you still need to fly-line-proof it to minimize preventable mishaps that result in missed opportunities and lost fish.

Clear the Deck

Although fly-fishing ­barefoot helps prevent you from stepping on loose line, managing fly line takes more than kicking off your footwear. Clearing the deck and cockpit of movable obstacles such as tackle bags, buckets, coolers and, say, the foul-weather gear that you shed once you finish that open-water crossing greatly reduces chances of some unruly loop of fly line catching or tangling.

Permanent fixtures such as cleats, latches and vertical rod racks are also primary fly-line catchers. And larger immovable objects such as pedestal seats, the leaning post or the center console (think steering wheel, throttle, fish finder, etc.) are occasional offenders. They don’t pose much of a problem—that is, until choppy seas force you off the forward casting deck and you fly-fish from inside the cockpit, closer to midship, or until you have a second fly angler on board who’s casting from the rear of the boat.

I carry a large beach blanket and drape it over my console, and I once fished with a guy who used a section of seine in the same manner. It really did the trick when we both fly-fished at the same time, one of us from the cockpit or the smaller rear casting deck.

If you have a bow-mounted trolling motor, you’re better off keeping it deployed (if the water is deep enough) when you fly-fish. Otherwise, drape a big towel over it, making sure it covers the entire head, shaft and lower unit with the propeller. Don’t forget to soak the towel first. It stays put much better when it’s wet and heavy. Another option is to install a quick-release mount that enables you to move the trolling motor—base or gator mount and all—off the bow just by pulling a pin.

Keep It Contained

There are a few commercially made fly-line management devices available, varying from specialized buckets that you strip the line into to mats that keep the fly line from sliding off the deck. Scientific Anglers recently introduced its Launch Pad, a silicone deck mat that helps keep loops of fly line under control. Carbon Marine offers a rubber mat and a more traditional ­bucket-style line ­container made of marine-grade ­materials.

Accessories for fly-line containment can be pricey, but there are more-affordable options. For instance, instead of springing for one of the specialized mats, I discovered that stretching a wet towel on the deck helps keep the fly line pretty still. My first aluminum bass boat, which I used on the salt flats, was carpeted, and that carpet kept my line from sliding around fairly well. A fly-fishing buddy used to stow a 3-by-3-foot piece of shag carpet in his skiff to use as a stripping mat. It was purple, as I recall, and quite stylish (in the late ’70s).

If you’d rather not shell out a couple hundred bucks for one of the stripping buckets, a collapsible leaf barrel makes a suitable alternative. I bought one recently after my LineTamer, a $170 bucket made by a company no longer in business, jumped out of my skiff at 4 a.m. on Florida’s Turnpike. It’s made by Ryobi, available at Home Depot and other hardware and lawn-and-garden stores for under $20.

While not as snazzy as the specialty stripping buckets, the leaf barrel collapses into a disc only 4 inches thick. Once collapsed, it is small enough to stow in the bow hatch or a similar compartment.

The post Make Your Skiff More ­Fly-Line-Friendly appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

A Lifetime of Lures: Al Gag

“I was poor, no other way to put it,” says Albert “Al Gag” Gagliarducci, who has been making affordable, reliable and effective lures in central Massachusetts for nearly 50 years. “I started making shad darts out of turkey quills and feathers so I didn’t have to buy them.”

Al progressed to pouring jigs, which turned out to be something special. “Those jigs caught fish when nothing else would. Word got out, and demand was immediate,” says Gagliarducci. “At one point I sold a million in one year.”

Wood plugs for striped bass were next, including some of the first through-wired needlefish, which became famous in places such as Block Island. Those needles are still being built by 24/7 Lures. Forty years later, they’re just as popular.

“The most rewarding feeling is when a kid tells me they caught their first fish on my lure. I do this for them.”

A New Way to Fly: Ben Whalley

Ben Whalley is one of the most innovative new saltwater fly-tiers, famous for the size of his visually striking, highly effective flies. While many anglers consider a 6-inch-long fly big, Whalley’s are often twice that.

Whalley grew up in Brazil fishing for pacu and largemouth bass with his family. They moved back to the States when he was a teenager. After a short stint in Florida, he found his way to Maine—first for college, and then as a biochemist. He fell in love with stripers, built a successful guiding business, and made the jump to full time in 2021.

“Many fishermen drag crabs on sinking lines in Maine, or toss small deceivers,” Whalley says. “But the spin-fishermen who target big bait using very large lures catch a lot of quality fish. I knew there had to be a way that fly anglers could do that too.”

He researched options and found Bob Popovics’ Hollow Fleyes. Soon Whalley was creating incredibly large mackerel, menhaden and herring flies based on Popovic’s philosophies. “They worked right away, and we had some awesome tides with 40- to 50-inch fish from shore.”

These flies followed him onto the skiff, his clients took note, and word quickly spread.

The post Inshore Innovators appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

Humans have been fishing with some form of artificial fly since time immemorial, with the first published accounts of fly-fishing occurring way back in the second century. But the majority of fly anglers ply their craft in fresh water. It wasn’t until the 20th century that fly-fishing in salt water took off—and never stopped rising.

1764

Saltwater fly-fishing in America can be traced back to the late 1700s. A letter from Roddam Home to the then-governor in the West Florida colony reports, “We have plenty of salt water trout and fine fishing with fly.”

1884

Camping and Cruising in Florida is published, detailing the adventures of author James Henshall as he traveled around the Sunshine State tangling with sea trout, snook, redfish, ladyfish, bluefish, jack crevalle and tarpon with a fly rod.

1930

In the late 1920s, fly-tying legend Homer S. Rhode Jr. moves to Coral Gables, Florida, from his home in Pennsylvania, where he fished for trout. By the time that decade ended, he had taken permit and bonefish on the fly, likely one of the first to do so.

1950

Joe Brooks, one of the earliest saltwater fly anglers, introduces libraries across the United States to his book Salt Water Fly Fishing, bringing the sport to the masses.

1952

Scientific anglers kicks off the fly-line revolution with the introduction of Air Cel, the first commercially available fly line consisting of tapered PVC sleeve over a braided core. Cortland follows shortly after with its PVC-coated 333 series. Line-care requirements are decreased, and casting distance is improved.

1970

Tibor “Ted” Juracsik develops a big-game fly reel with an oversize cork drag and anti-reverse system that keep the handles from spinning. Tibor Reels, Juracsik’s company, would go on land more than 950 IFGA record fish, more than other fly reel in history.

1974

Fly Fishing in Saltwater is first published. The book contains decades of valuable info on saltwater fly-fishing tackle and techniques gleaned the hard way from legend Bernard “Lefty” Kreh. The volume would be revised several times in the years following.

1982

Baseball and Fly-Fishing Hall of Famer Ted Williams helps popularize saltwater fly-fishing with his book The Big Three, which details his three favored species: tarpon, bonefish and Atlantic salmon. He would catch more than 1,000 of each by the time the book is published.

1991

The Stu Apte Tarpon Fly is featured on the 29-cent stamp.

1992

Lou Tabory ushers in a new era of fly-fishing in the striper surf with Inshore Fly Fishing. The book sent many existing freshwater fly anglers to the brine in search of new species, and encouraged many old salts to pick up the long wand for the first time.

1992

ESPN airs the premiere episode of The Walker’s Cay Chronicles featuring saltwater fly legend Flip Pallot. During its 15-season run, it was often the top-rated outdoor show on television.

2000

Pop Fleyes is published, bringing Bob Popovic’s unique epoxy and silicone flies to the masses. The book details not only how to tie the author’s signature flies, but also how to use them to catch striped bass, bluefish, false albacore, and other species in the Northeast and beyond.

The post The Evolution of Saltwater Fly-Fishing appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

Bob Clouser may have created the perfect fly with the introduction of the Clouser Deep Minnow (08, 11) in 1987. The innovative yet simple pattern was concocted to catch smallmouth in Clouser’s home river, the Susquehanna. Tied with dumbbell eyes to ride hook point up, Lefty Kreh immediately sensed the fly’s potential and went on to catch nearly 90 species on it—many of which were in the salt. If you could have only one fly, this would be it. But fortunately, you can have as many flies as will fit in your boxes. If you plan on fishing backwater creeks that hold good populations of grass shrimp, be sure to pack some of Bob Popovics’ Ultra Shrimp (09). This lifelike and durable pattern has accounted for plenty of striped bass and weakfish for me over the years, but it will also hook plenty of snook and tarpon. Topwater aficionados shouldn’t leave home without some of Joe Blado’s Crease flies (10) and Jack Gartside’s Gurgler (12). The Crease fly effectively imitates a variety of small bait, and it can be worked on a sinking line to mimic a baitfish floundering on the surface. The Gurgler produces a ton of surface commotion despite being so easy to cast.

The post Essential Backwater Flies appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

Fly anglers in the Northeast often hang it up for the day once the sun is clear of the horizon, fearing that the bright rays of the day have sent the fish deep. While the stripers may have departed the shallows, summer flounder, also known as fluke, can be caught all day throughout the marsh.

If you want to get in on this fishery, target creek mouths in about 5 to 10 feet of water on a dropping tide. Fluke stage here, waiting for bait to get flushed out. Use 6- to 9-weight rods outfitted with a sinking line and a short leader—you want your fly to bounce off the bottom.

You can never go wrong with a Clouser, but any weighted pattern that matches local baitfish will work. Bring in the fly with short strips, hopping it along the bottom. When it gets bit, hit back with a sharp strip-strike, and bring them up off the bottom ASAP.

The post Targeting Fluke on Fly appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

Have you tried California sight fishing in the surf? Are you up for a challenge? Trek the beaches anywhere south of Santa Barbara in the summer months to experience barefoot action for a croaker species as moody as a permit and strong as a redfish.

“Corbinas are every bit as difficult to target as bonefish or permit,” says California fly-fishing guide Glenn Ueda, who specializes in sight fishing this lesser-known species. “I like to call them the ‘ghost of the coast’ because most beach-goers don’t really know these fish are here. Plus, you might only get 5 to 10 legit shots in a morning of fishing, and they’re not always hungry.”

Make the most out of your trip by targeting the flattest beaches —stay away from rocky shorelines. “Set up with your feet dry on the sand, casting into 6 inches to a foot of water,” Ueda says. “Look out 50 feet into the water, nothing more, as any fish you see farther out aren’t willing to eat a fly yet.”

Corbinas ride the waves into the extreme shallows, looking for sand crabs to eat. They look like a mix of bonefish and oversized Florida whiting, with silver sides and a downturned mouth. Ueda says his average catch is 18 to 22 inches. He holds the 4-pound, tippet-class world record with a 5-pound, 8-ounce fish.

Ueda fishes in the mornings when the beaches aren’t crowded. An incoming tide during the full or new moon periods is an optimal window to target this species. “Look for structure like cross currents, channels, ditches, rips or troughs on the beach,” Ueda explains. “Corbinas use the deeper pathways to get onto the beach from the surf in search of mole crabs.”

Glenn Ueda’s Setup:

• Rod: 9-foot, 6-weight Orvis Helios
• Reel: Galvan Grip 6
• Line: Scientific Anglers SONAR Stillwater Seamless Density Sink 5/Sink 7
• Leader: 9-foot tapered fluorocarbon
• Fly: Surfin’ Merkin (tied with gray, mint green or pink EP Fibers)
• Stripping basket
• Sunglasses: Rose lenses in low-light haze; Copper lenses in bright sunlight

The post Catch California’s Corbinas in the Surf appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

As soon as the photos hit social media, skeptics started calling bull. The images showed an angler standing on a rocky shoreline, fly rod dangling over his shoulder, holding a hefty swordfish. The post described how Thomas Paulsen, a Maldives flyfishing guide, spotted, enticed, hooked and landed the trophy swordfish. Catching a swordfish with a fly rod is almost impossible, but pulling off the achievement from the beach is unbelievable.

But this fish story is true.

Silencing the Critics

When people question his story, Paulsen laughs and says, “Some people are always going to be a pain in the ass.” Of course, the photos and story are real. Paulsen is a professional guide at GTFlyfishing, specializing in catching giant trevally from coral beaches in the middle of the Indian Ocean. His day job is unbelievable — he doesn’t need to stretch a fish tale for internet clout.

Paulsen says the overall reaction has been positive with congratulations and kudos coming from all over the globe and every corner of the fishing world. Still, he admits, “I can’t believe what happened.”

An Unbelievable Wade Fishing Catch

Paulsen was fishing on his day off, wading the edge of a coral reef, looking for fish swimming close to shore. “About 150 yards off the reef crust, the water depth drops 3,000 feet,” he says. “It’s not uncommon to see billfish hunting in the area.” Two days earlier, he spotted a school of marlin from shore.

When he saw a huge fish making a big commotion in the distance, Paulsen moved in to investigate. “I noticed a bill come out of the water and I thought it was a sailfish,” he said.

Sight Fishing A Swordfish

The angler waded deeper as the fish moved toward him. Paulsen uses a Winston Air Salt 9-foot, 12-weight rod and Hatch Finatic 9 Plus reel. His reel was loaded with 350 yards of 80-pound braided line beneath RIO GT 475 gram line and 9 feet of 130-pound-test Momoi Hi-Catch fluorocarbon, ending in a custom black and green fly on an 8/0 Gamakatsu hook.

When the fish moved into range, Paulsen made three casts without answer. On the fourth cast, the fish turned, zeroed in on his fly and attacked. After Paulsen set the hook, the huge billfish ran 200 yards parallel to the reef. “If it escaped to the deep, I would never have stopped it,” he said.

Then, the fish turned toward the reef and swam into shallow water where it flailed helplessly in a shower of spray. Moving closer, Paulsen finally got a good look at his catch. “That’s when it hit me, I caught a swordfish.”

How to Land an Angry Swordfish

Tackling a green swordfish in knee deep water on a sharp coral reef is dangerous, so Paulsen called a friend over to help him subdue the trophy. “By now my adrenaline is pumping and I almost fainted,” he remembered.

Catching a swordfish with a fly rod is a lifetime achievement for any angler. Landing the fish from the shore requires so many things to go right. No gambler would take those odds. Paulsen’s unbelievable catch weighed 102 pounds and measured 5 feet long, from tip of its chin to the curve of the tail.

“In 40 years of fishing, this is the craziest thing that has happened to me,” Paulsen says. He doesn’t expect to repeat this achievement or even best it. “I just can’t understand the huge amount of luck,” Paulsen said.

The post Unbelievable: A Swordfish Caught on Fly from Shore appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

While the fall run means striped bass migrating from Maine to Maryland, there are a lot of other species to catch, too. Bluefish enjoy the warm water as it fades, and where the Gulf Stream pushes closer to shore—which basically from Chatham, Massachusetts and west, you’ll find pelagic fish. Common are bonito and false albacore, but in some areas you’ll find skipjack and Spanish mackerel running the inshore waters. Baitfish types range from adult bunker, peanut bunker, herring, glass minnon (herring fry), mackeral, ticker mackeral, silversides, sandeels, squid, bay anchovies, butterfish, mullet, and more. Bring lots of flies, but make sure that you have these five in your box.

1. Lefty’s Deceiver

Think of the Deceiver as a template fly. Brown bucktail wings imitate menhaden, blue bucktail wings are good for herring, and so on. The late Lefty Kreh created a modifiable fly that can be tied long for big bait or short for juveniles.

• Hook: Mustad 34007 or 34011, #4-3/0
• Thread: White 6/0
• Tail: Six to eight white saltwater saddles tied at hook bend.
• Flash: Rainbow and/or pearl Krystal Flash trimmed to different lengths.
• Wing: Two clumps of white bucktail on sides, one clump colored bucktail on top.
• Topping: Peacock Herl
• Throat: Red Flashabou
• Eyes: Painted on body (optional)

2. Ray’s Fly

Rhode Island’s Ray Bondorew’s silverside pattern is the best one in the game. It’s a simple bucktail that can be used as a point fly or added to a leader as a dropper.

• Hook: Eagle Claw 254 NA 1X short, any size
• Thread: Danville 3/0 white
• Tail: None
• Body: Silver mylar yarn
• Wing: Bucktail, olive over yellow over pearlescent mylar over white. White is 2X hook length, yellow is longer, olive is longest.
• Topping: 7-14 strands of peacock herl, just beyond the wing.

3. Surf Candy and Epoxies

There are a wide range of epoxies that are dynamite for imitating small bait favored by pelagic bonito, albies and the like. Whether yours are designed by Bob Popovics from NJ, Phil Mikkelson from New York, or anyone else in between, have several sizes and colors.

• Hook: Tiemco 800S # 2 through 1/0
• Thread: Fine monofilament thread
• Wing: Super Hair or UltraHair (you can also use Craft Fur, Kinky Fiber, another synthetic, or bucktail)
• Flash: Flashabou, Krystal Flash, or other preferred flash
• Epoxy: Devcon clear 5-Minute Epoxy
• Eyes: Self sticking decal eyes
• Throat: Red Sharpie permanent marker, fine or medium point

4. Half and Half

Pennsylvania’s Bob Clouser’s Clouser Minnow is good, but the Half and Half is better. It’s the best of both worlds and is either a deceiver with dumbbell eyes or a clouser with a tail. Pick your poison, and have some in different colors and different length saddles.

• Hook: Mustad 34007 or equivalent, 6-3/0
• Thread: Danville’s Waxed Flymaster Plus Size A
• Tail: Six saddle hackles, topped with Krystal Flash
• Eyes: Lead, tungsten, steel, dumbbell eyes
• Tail: Bucktail, color to suit
• Shoulder: Bucktail, color to suit.
• Flatwing Clouser: Two saddle tail tied flatwing style.
• Deep Deceiver: Left’s Deceiver with lead or tungsten dumbbell eyes

5. Gugler

Fall is a great time for hot, topwater action, and the late Jack Gartside’s Gurgler is a top pick. It’s easy to cast, easy to tie in multiple colors, and is good on all species you’ll encounter.

• Hook: 34007 or 34011 or equivalent. Size 2/0
• Thread: 3/0 White
• Tail: Sparse yellow bucktail. Overlay with a dozen strands of flash of your choice.
• Body: Yellow Fly Foam cut ½” wide.
• Underbody: Two yellow saddle hackles paired palmered forward.
• Throat: Two red saddle hackles paired and palmered last ¼ length of body.

6. Crease Fly

New York’s Joe Blados developed a gem of a fly that sits in the water column, floats like a cork, and moves water like a popper. Color the foam to suit your bait.

• Hook: Tiemco 911S 1/0
• Thread: White Flymaster+
• Tail: Olive FlashFiber over White Kinkyfiber
• Flash: Pearl Flashabou
• Body: White Craft Foam (adhesive back)
• Eyes: Black/Pearl Mylar Stick-On (7mm)
• Adhesive: Balsa USA Gold CA (thick)
• Sealant: Loon Head Hard Body

The post Top Flies for Hammering Fish During the Fall Run appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.

Gary Jennings fishes with Capt. Craig Cantelmo every spring targeting striped bass near Fisher’s Island, New York. But the striper action was poor early last June so the anglers devised an alternate plan.

“Craig told me about the shallow-water fishery for tautog in the Southold town area (near Block Island Sound), and said it was ripe for sight fishing for the sporty little fish,” says Jennings, the Florida Fishing Director for the Virginia-based American Sportfishing Association. “It’s a lot like sight fishing for sheepshead or redfish, using the same style crab-imitating patterns for tautog that cruise around rocky shallows feeding.

“So, we went out and I caught a 4-pound tautog sight fishing like I’d do for redfish, and we decided to really target them the next day and try to get a world record fish.”

The next day, the anglers set out in Cantelmo’s Pathfinder bayskiff near Fishers Island and even though it was a little overcast they located a prime area for tautog. They spotted a dark-colored cruising tautog on a lighter sand bottom, Jennings made a cast with a crab-imitating, lead-eye fly, using an 8-weight fly rod.

“When the fish saw the fly sinking, it jetted over to it, tipped down to take the fly much like a bonefish or redfish would do,” says Jennings, the former publisher of Fly Fishing In Salt Waters Magazine. “I just made a slow fly line strip, the line came tight, and the fight was on.”

Jennings says the tautog fought well, but soon wrapped around some weeds. They were worried about losing the fish because it was hooked on a light 8-pound test tippet, but they freed the tautog, and Cantelmo used a big net to collect the fish, bringing it to boatside.

Cantelmo knew the fish was a potential IGFA fly rod record, and used an IGFA Boga grip to weigh the tautog, with photos and measurements of the catch. They eased into shallow water, while keeping the fish alive in their big landing net, so they could then stand on hard ground while the fish was weighed on the IGFA-certified Boga.

The tautog measured just over 20 inches in length, weighing 6 pounds, qualifying for the open 8-pound tipped fly rod category for IGFA recognition. Then the fish was released unharmed and very alive, having been kept in Cantelmo’s large net for most of the procedures.

“We were just ecstatic about the catch, and the potential record, but the day was young and we went right back to fishing,” said Jennings. “We caught some stripers later on fly, and had another outstanding New York fly rod flats trip.”

After filling out all the IGFA paper work and sending photos, a few weeks later Jennings’ fly rod tautog was accepted as the 8-pound tippet world record for the species.

The post World Record Fly-Rod Tog appeared first on Sport Fishing Mag.