July 10th, 2015 – I should have known it was going to be a special day.  In the morning I was fly fishing and a manatee swam up to within 5 feet of me, stopped and stared at me for a few seconds.  My Bucket list is getting so full I may have to get a new bucket!  Because I caught a Tarpon that was just short of 8 feet long and over 160 pounds!

 

The day went like this: I got up early after a late flight that didn’t get me to my hotel in Tampa until 12:30AM.  Early the following morning I drove an hour South near Bradenton Beach, FL to a lagoon that a local fly fisherman turned me on to a few years back.  It’s behind a beautiful beach and it takes quite the nasty and super creepy bushwhack through the mangrove trees to get to a shallow part of the lagoon suitable for fly fishing.  Once in the lagoon there is life everywhere.   It’s quite beautiful and although I have never done very well fly fishing in there it is the perfect place to practice my cast on my Orvis Helios II 10 foot 8 Wt. 

 

 

I had about 3 hours to fish before I drove half the way back to meet all my Microsoft Partner advisory council buddies at a marina near St. Petersburg for a half day of guided conventional inshore fishing in Tampa Bay. 

 

I noticed a lot of movement in the water in places I just couldn’t reach.  and I probably fished an hour before getting struck.  The fish shot like lightning to my right and as quickly as it happened it was gone; bummer.  But, that was a good sign!  And it was just a few casts after that when I saw the big V wake about 100 feet away and closing.  When it got to around 60 feet I casted, perfectly, but nothing.  in my haste I tried to cast again when the thing took a hard left turn and closed in on me.  It wasn’t until it was about 20 feet away that I could see down into the water with my polarized lenses that it was a Manatee!  A huge one.  he/she stopped just 5 of so feet in front of me and we stared at each other for a few seconds.  Then the rest of the Manatee tribe closed in; at least five of them.  And they all swam away.  I immediately called Kelly and said, “You are not going to believe what just happened to me.”  The video I took doesn’t do it justice because my camera doesn’t have a polarized lense, but it’s still pretty awesome.

Here is the video i took:  Manatees

I just knew that was going to turn my luck and sure enough a few minutes later I caught and released a ray, But, since I don’t know their ocean I couldn’t tell if it was a sting ray or not.  So, I was very careful when I released it.  I fished some more and did okay and was all smiles as I hiked the beach back to my rental car.  That 3 hours was good enough to be a great day.  But, it just got better.

7 of us took off on two guided boats out of Oenida Marina just south of St. Petersburg.  on my boat was my buddy Tom O’Connell who has fished with me a few times before.  Tom is a CEO mentor for me and a great friend.  Also joining us was Scott Gosling from Brisbane, Australia who I met for the first time….and now we are lifelong friends.  We were being guided by Chris Wiggins of Salty Dog Charters.  I will fish with Chris again.  I highly recommend him if you are going to be in the Tampa Area. (727) 479-5455.  I knew it was going to be fun because I talked to Chris on the phone when arranging the fishing.  Chris is no stranger to fly fishing.  His dad has a place on a river in Montana.  He told me to bring my rod, but we probably would not run into a scenario where it made sense to fly fish.  I understood.  Not a problem.  I’m not weird about conventional fishing like so many of my fly fishing brethren are.  But Chris did tell me the fishing was slow, but picking up. 

We pulled up to some boats that push the oil tankers in and it was slow.  Even though we had live bait we had only managed to catch a few fish in a couple hours.  We were catching snapper like the one above and catfish.   I think I only caught a couple fish, but was still pretty happy about it.  I could tell Chris was bothered by it.  So, he decided we were going to go hunt.  Mainly for redfish.  I have caught redfish before and they are really fun.  but, it was still pretty slow the next couple hours. 

That is when Chris saw a tarpon roll off in the distance.  He said something like, “if it’s going to be slow we may as well try to catch a tarpon.”  So he drove the boat to the spot and anchored.  In my mind I said to myself “We are done.  I’m going to start drinking a lot of beer.”  Fisherman go their whole lives trying to catch a Tarpon and fail.  On my fly fishing TV shows they dedicate entire episodes to fishing for tarpon and many times fail.  I knew just how hard it is and how lucky you have to be and how much skill and physical strength it takes.  Tom and Scott did not…but, they would soon learn. 

First it was Chris that hooked up.  He’s a big guy and was getting man-handled by the prehistoric fish.  I was laughing the entire time.  I just couldn’t believe the luck of hooking up with a tarpon.  And when I saw that fish bringing his face to a strained, sweaty and concerned look I really doubted we’d land it.  But he did!  I was laughing and in shock and totally excited.  We were done as far as I was concerned.  It was the perfect day. 

We started fishing again and sure enough Tom Hooked up and was battling a tarpon!  Now, I was really laughing.  I just couldn’t believe it.  2 tarpons hooked and it wasn’t even tarpon season!  You could tell the adrenaline was running hard in Chris too.  He was stoked and because he is a such a good guide he turned a slow day into a great one.  That’s what good fishing guides do.  Tom got his tarpon to the boat and I was “Woo!”ing and high fiving and laughing.

 

“Tim, we gotta’ get you one.”, Chris said.  I was skeptical.  But, sure enough I hooked up, the tarpon jumped high.  I bowed to him and the fight was on.  He jumped again and then  ran on me.  the drag was signing and I was close to spooled when the line snapped.  I snapped him off on 60 lb flouro.  Chris said the fish must have scraped me against one of the deep pilings.  The boys tried to console me, but I was totally stoked happy.  And I felt blessed.  Those who fly fish with me know that I enjoy my buddies catching fish much more than catching them myself. 

 

It was getting late in the day and we were only supposed to fish 2 to 6, but the fishing was good so Chris asked us if we wanted to fish more.  The answer was obvious.  And I hooked up again!  This time I battled, but the fish never jumped.  I could tell it was huge because of the pull.  But, it never jumped and we never saw it because I snapped off 60 lb test again!  “Darn, the lord is just not going to make this the perfect day.” I said to myself.  Now the boys were really bummed.  I promise you I was not.  Chris said he had not had a fisherman snap off all season and I had snapped off twice. I felt blessed to have hooked to of them.  Well, since we never saw the second one and because it snapped off I really think it was one of those huge bull sharks they have.  I just think the shark teeth cut the line. 

 

It was now 7PM and time to leave.  We casted a couple times and Chris said to reel them up; the day was done.  I made two turns on the reel and whack!  I got struck like a freight train.  On the last cast!  This could not be more perfect!  The tarpon immediately jumped about 50 yards out.   I was shocked at the size and went into total concentration mode, but I believe Chris said something like, “That is a huge tarpon.  I have to call my wife because we are going to be late.”  The fight was on and I have to admit I was worried I’d have the strength or the stamina to fight that fish.  And a fight it was.  Once I started to really get my ass kicked, Chris untethered the anchored and chased the fish.  Thank god.  Because it would have spooled me.  I had barely anything left in the tank when I finally wrestled this huge prehistoric monster to the side of the boat so Chris could unhook it and release it to fight another day.  It was too huge to haul up on the boat so I was really pleased that Chris lifted out of the water far enough for a picture.  A picture that I will cherish forever.

To me the battle seemed like over an hour.   Chris said it was more like 35 minutes.  My arms, legs and back were all cramping.  I was breathing heavy like I had just sprinted up a staircase.  I was dripping in sweat head to toe.  I have not done anything that physical for that long in years.  Chris said that tarpon was between 50 and 75 years old.

 

What a day!  We ended up hooking 7 tarpon and landed 3 of them.  I was ecstatic about it because people go their entire lives trying to catch a tarpon and never catch one; I was clearly lucky on this day.  We didn’t get back to the marina until after 8pm.   I drove away with both arms twitching and a huge smile on my face.  I thought I would sleep great that night and I didn’t because I was in so much pain; more pain than alleve can handle.  And that was just fine.   

For a long father’s day weekend I planned a back packing trip to the Forks of the Kern months in advance. I invited a number of “value-adds” to the trip, but because of that particular weekend it ended up with just me, Kelly (my lovely bride of 26+ years who is happier in a Nordstrom’s than she is in the wilderness) and her / our friend Meredith. Mer loves to backpack and is turning into quite the wilderness gal. But, it was just me and two hot mom-babes which is just another reason for stressing while back-packing.

I had to drive to the trailhead from the North, actually from Fresno where I was on a business trip. I pulled Huck-truck into the lower Peppermint campground about 10 miles short of the trailhead at 12am the night before and crashed in the back of the truck. The girls came from the south and met me the next morning, albeit a bit later than we wanted to start because of the heat.

So, I headed into the wilderness with two moms. Mer had a bear spray and I had one. And I had my Delorme InReach Satellite tracker. I was still a bit worried though because the hike in to the very same place with Kelly last year ended up with my buddy mark mcgeary carrying her pack…and his. She was a lot smarter about what she put in her pack this time. And she was a lot stronger. But, I was still a bit worried because “wierdos” do live in the sierras in the bush. As a fly fisherman I don’t worry about large animals like bears and moose and wolves; I worry about tiny things like ticks and the protozoans they carry and others like giardia. And I worry about wierdos; the kind that are vagrants living in the bush and the other kind that are illegal drug farmers. And I have run into plenty of both.

Once we got to the little Kern crossing (which I didn’t even bother taking my boots off for it was so low), I overcame my fears and hiked ahead to see if we could get our favorite primitive site on the river. Because going farther on the trail beyond that site is at least another hour of hiking over the mountain and I know there would be no way we’d be able to do that on that hot day. And alas, when I got there, it had tents on it. Darn. My first mistake was thinking the girls might want to share that site. (A day later I met the 4 guys in that site who were fly fisherman. But, not the types the girls would want to share a site with). So, I left my backpack in that site amidst the other guys stuff and I quickly hiked my way back on the trail hoping to quickly intersect the girls. I did not. They had slowed down because of the heat. It was every bit of a couple miles where I met up with them. I told them the options we had (share the site, go farther, or find a spot close and call it a day). And it was obvious it was getting hot and time to find a site near there and call it a day. So, we did. So then I had to hike that 2 miles back again to get my pack. Once I did I put my pack on and hiked the 2 miles back again to the girls. Six extra miles, but, I wasn’t fading by any stretch. It was a record fitbit day for sure. Between the hike and gathering fire wood and fishing my fitbit said it took 37,530 steps and covered 16.5 miles before I crashed for the night.

Signs of the prolonged drought were everywhere: dead and dying trees, brown grass and a really low river. In fact, the upper Kern river was flowing under 200 CFS when it should have been at 2,500. The Kern is not going to be fishable in the fall I fear. And there could be a massive fish kill because of the warm water. Or, all the big fish could move up river to the forks where the kern is colder… that would be good….

We set up camp and I handled the important stuff with the gals: collecting and making firewood and setting up a proper and safe fire ring.

The water was already mid-day warm and this was June. I’m so glad I didn’t bring waders; three was no need for them. I’m glad my son Mark talked me out of carrying them in. It would have just been dead weight. By the time we set up camp, made firewood and I built a fire ring the day was mostly gone. By the time I got into the river to fish it was late afternoon. I had a little pressure on me because the girls were counting on eating trout that night. Well, I missed about 10 fish in a row and started to get frustrated before I realized I was setting “up river” instead of downriver like you are supposed to (a trout faces up river and waits for food to go by so you want to pull the hook downriver so it catches their mouth properly). There is so much in fly fishing for me to get better at. And this is one of the areas I need to get better at: the set. I set too early, I set too late, I set to hard. And it this case I was setting the wrong direction. I was on the “right handed side” of the river and setting downriver with my left hand is not natural. I had to concentrate to do it. And once I started doing it I started hooking and landing fish. Before I knew it I had 3 quality fish that I kept and harvested for dinner that night. And that night was the last time I ate trout on the trip and could be the last time I do it ever. Even though I cooked it in fresh lemon juice, olive oil, white wine and spices it still tasted like trout. I’m not weird about harvesting the fish; I’m weird about how badly they taste. They eat bugs and they taste like bugs. But, the girls like it more than backpacking food so I gladly caught and cooked those two fish each night.

This is a California Mountain King Snake. I had to lie to Mer and tell her it slithered off when really it went under a rock just ten feet from her tent. We saw lots of water snakes on the trip including one that just wouldn’t give up trying to steal our fish. I whacked it on the head and it still came back. The stringer I made prevented it from stealing them.

I’m a fly fisherman who backpacks to the fishing. I’m not a backpacker. The difference in this backpacking trip was that we broke camp and moved every day. So we backpacked 4 straight days. It cut into prime morning fishing time, but I didn’t mind at all. We were having fun and it honed my set up / break camp backpacking skills. We hiked all the way up river past mosquito creek close to the Kern flats! And getting over that mountain was a bitch because the pine beetle has done its thing and numerous trees have collapsed on the trail. Getting around one of the collapsed trees involved a 50 foot straight up climb the side of the mountain with the packs on. I’m a “goat” but it was tricky and very physical for the girls…and dangerous.

The fishing was good; not great. I’d say I’d averaged 20 fish days each of the days. If I fished the entire morning and nights I probably could have turned it into 40 fish days. But, I have seen it and fished it a lot better… where every cast is a potential strike. There was not a lot of action on top, but enough to elicit some vicious strikes from smaller rainbows. But, all the decent size fish I caught were on the dropper or on a streamer.

The two best fly fishing takeaway stories from the trip:

1. I caught a big fish on the last cast on the last night. And then I followed it up with a first cast fish the morning. Both were right in front of the camp site.

2. I taught both the gals how to reach cast and we even did a little roll casting. And both of them did great (realize how impossible it is to teach your wife anything). Well, on the last night they had seen refusals and strikes all trip long, but still had not landed a fish. I told them before the trip they’d catch fish, but they wouldn’t land them. They soon figured out what that meant. Anyways on the last night just as the sun was going down the caddis hatch went off. I noticed and looked at a river in front of the site alive with rises. I said, “Ladies, if you are ever going to catch a fish it’s going to be now.” They both motivated and grabbed their rods. Mer was downstream. I went with her first and since she was casting great I simply pointed out the rises and told her where to cast. First cast….Strike! She missed it… but, was now excited. I said, “Keep fishing and let me take care of Kelly.”

So, I put Kelly in another spot 100 feet upstream which had a lot more rises, but an impossible reach cast because of the trees. She’d have to roll cast it. As we practiced the role cast she mangled her rod in a tree and lost the flies, so I gave her my rod. She was getting struck every time and missing the sets. I was frustrated and yelling “Set!” And she was frustrated at me for being so into it and yelling. After about ten straight misses I pondered what to do and she let her line swing…. “I got a fish!” She screamed. I said to myself, “No way. On the swing.” I had not caught a fish on the swing all trip long. Kelly actually caught a fish! I shouted “Woo!”. Well she battled it to her feet where the barbless hook fell out. I call that a catch…. On the swing… and Meredith got struck on top numerous times on a caddis imitation.

Both of the girls want to go back. That is awesome. Kelly was even talking to Mer about buying her own backpack. They are both pretty stoked on the trip as am I because even though it was a different trip, it was a ton of fun in the Sierras. Kelly was so much stronger this time. Of course she was smarter about what she put in her pack this time…but not totally smart….:) Both girls agreed for the next time: “Less food; more booze.” And who can argue with that?

I know the girls are very proud and rightfully they should be because they really enjoyed themselves and they did help a lot. Can’t wait to do it again… Next time with twice­ as much fly fishing.