Volume 11 • Issue 6 • June 2006

What's With Lunker Bass and Torpedo Carp in Texas?

One thing about Texas that commonly threads its way to center stage when it comes to image recognition is its stereotypical love affair for symbolizing the biggest and the best of just about everything. It's really a sort of comic strip thing, but there's probably about a seventy-five percent reality factor in the concept. Take, for example, the Budweiser ShareLunker Program that has sparked our Texas Parks and Wildlife Department's pride in developing a plan to produce some of the biggest largemouth bass in the country now populating Texas lakes. Carefully cultivating larger bass in our state relied heavily on using Florida bass as the backbone for breeding bass that would eventually result in fish so large that they border on being freaks. The ShareLunker program promotes competition among Texas bass fishers to contribute fish thirteen pounds or more to TP&W Dept. for spawning purposes when these fish breed with their Florida kin. The scheme has worked so successfully that it has not only brought bragging rights but also made for popular competition among big bass anglers even more widespread and intense with the passing of each year since 1971 when the Florida strain was first introduced into our state. Since then, Texans along with visitors to our state have experienced fun, competition, and participation in an experiment that has proven to be highly successful as part of the big bass fishing experience instigated by the ShareLunker program.

Phil Durocher, director of the fresh water division of the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department, combined a comprehensive slide program with an outline of how this popular fishing experience evolved to the benefit of both fishing as a sport and as a positive economic factor for our state. Impressive slides blended with Phil's easy-going revelation tracked the path of how this undertaking by Budweiser in cooperation with TP&W Dept. has turned out to be a real winner in the world of bass fishing. The evidence is clear. In 1980 a 14.1-pound bass broke a 43-year-old state record of a largemouth weighing 13.5 pounds. The record continued with increasing numbers of 14-pound- plus bass being recorded about half of the time span since then. A little research on the Internet shows that a bass weighing over 18 pounds caught in 1992 currently holds the state record. Another big bass having acquired the name, Ethel, also earned some special recognition. The 17.87-pounder was caught on November 26, 1986, and stirred enough attention to be placed in the big tank at Bass Pro Shop in Springfield, Missouri. There she stayed until she departed to the Great Beyond and was honored with proper burial ceremonies. No kidding!

The push for big bass actually paralled the construction of significant number of new dams being constructed during the 1960's and 1970's following almost a decade of drought during the fifties when it became apparent that Texas' water sources had to be increased to provide for growth in population and anticipated future droughts. Durocher stated that for all practical purposes, the state has no more potential sites for dams of significant size. Of special interest to fly-fishers is the fact that emphasis in placement of the large bass stemming from the Budweiser/TP&W Dept. project has been totally focused on placing these lunkers in the lakes of Texas as opposed to the rivers. Reality prevails in that the lakes with their easier access and greater surface area furnish better benefits to the state with the accompanying widespread publicity that it draws the fishing public from near and far, thus bringing in more financial reward for both the state and the communities near the lakes.

"Doc" Harrison raised the question concerning what the TP&W Dept. might do regarding stocking Texas rivers. Durocher pointed out that Texas is a "private land state"–that access to fishing is more limited on the rivers and that it was only practical to concentrate on the lakes with such a program as the ShareLunker project.

He followed up by saying that the TP&W Dept. is currently involved in exploring the possibilities of promoting carp as a sport fish. There are some convincing reasons for such an endeavor. He stated that the common carp is the most popular of freshwater fish when considered on aworldwide basis. It was brought from Asia to Europe in the 18th Century and later introduced into the United States in 1877 with the idea of furnishing a promising new food source for the financially deprived sector of our population. That image coupled with the fact that carp are tough fish often found in waters that are not always attractive may account for the their maligned reputation as a sporting fish in our country.

It is no surprise that certain personalities in the midst our own Hill Country Fly Fishers are known for past notoriety regarding these big fish. That's why eyes began searching out Walter Saunders when the word carp was first mentioned by our speaker. Walt has been recognized for his exploits over the years in fly-fishing for carp. He has caught some that would offer a challenge for any angler, but especially for a fly-fisher. When lucky enough to hook one of these creatures, it's as if an Abrams tank were pulling at the end of our good friend's line.

Taking note that those present were waiting for a carp tale, Walt proceeded to relate his most famous battle with a carp of legendary weight at the Guadalupe Street Park, when about thirty onlookers watched him battle a hulking bully that tested our friend's arms, wrists, and guts with each determined run. It seemed almost sure that the tippet would break before Walt's good judgment and considerable skill would wear the fish down. As it was, over thirty minutes struggled around the clock when, at last, the talented angler proved victorious before the appreciative audience. Those at our meeting sat on the edges of their seats as the story unfolded. We might have thought it a tall tale had it not been for several of our members who had witnessed the feat and confirmed its authenticity.

Revved up by now on the topic of carp fishing, Walt revealed a significant secret as he told of how on one of his carp expeditions, he noticed big fish cruising close to the water's surface sipping some sort of delicacy. Closer scrutiny revealed mulberries parachuting off a nearby tree into a local stream's entrance. Readers might well anticipate what Walt was thinking.. How about picking up one of the berries and threading a small fly hook through it–a delicate procedure but less messy than when performed on a worm. It worked! Ever since then, mulberry time has been celebration time for Walter. He also finds corn quite useful, but mulberries are special.

If of our fly fishing friends want to assist in the popularizing of carp fishing in our state, they might do well by consulting with our own local authority in supporting the sport. Who knows? It might help put Texas on the map as a first class carp destination, and the United States could join the rest of the world in recognizing this paradoxical creature as a first-class sporting fish. For sure, these fish are a ton of excitement if you can outsmart them and get them on line.

Thanks go to Phil Durocher for a fine program on some aspects of fishing that are quite informative in explaining an important program in the development of big lunker bass in Texas and for revealing a new focus on what may one day have been an important move in exploring carp as sport fish as heavier pressure continues to press in on the fish in both the lakes and rivers of Texas. And we mustn't fail to thank Walter Saunders for sharing his expertise in carp fishing. –M A.

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"Along a river in the morning, the world meets you squarely. My impulse is to watch and listen, as if I might absorb the frankness that seems to hover in the air around me. The river slides by, patient and insistent, as generous and unforgiving as time."

Christopher Camuto from his book, A Fly Fisherman's Blue Ridge. New York: Henry Holt and Company, 1990.

Match That Fly

Below are some recipes for fly patterns, some well-known, others rather rare. The object of this exercise is to match the name of the fly to the recipe. Even if you've never heard of the fly before, perhaps the materials used will give a hint to its identity. Here we go. Answers follow the end of the last article in this month's issue.

1. Hook: 14–1Thread: To match the insect
   Body: Tying thread dubbed
   Hackle: Palmered cock, to match the insect with upper fibers trimmed
    Wing: Elk or deer body hair
   Head: Clipped ends of the hair

2. Hook: 10–12
   Tail: Dear hair or ginger hackle fibers
   Body: Spun and clipped deer hair
   Wing: Two grizzle hackle points
   Hackle: Ginger cock

3. Hook: 8–16
   Thread: Black
   Tail: Golden pheasant tippets
   Body: In three parts–Peacock herl at either end of the body for a short length only; red floss in the middle
   Wing: White duck or swan

4. Hook: 6–10
   Thread: Black
   Tail: Two small bunches of red and yellow bucktail
   Body: Silver tinsel
   Wing: Three bunches of bucktail, red in the center, flanked by yellow
   Throat hackle (optional): Red hackle fibers or goat hair
   Head: Black varnish

5. Hook 10–16
   Thread: Red Monocord
   Tail: Dark moose hair
   Body: Red Monocord with light gray or black deer hair as overbody
   Wing: White calf tail, upright and divided
   Hackle: Blue-dun, brown, badger, grizzle, or cree cock

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From the FFF ClubWire . . .

Fly Fishing for Bass
By Toney J. Sisk–Taken from the Connecticut Fly Fisherman's Association Newsletter

I started chasing bass with a fly rod after many years of trout fishing. Early on, fly-fishing for bass was some mysterious unknown, never a part of Saturday morning as Bob or Bill or Jim weighed his sack of fish during yet another Bass Masters tournament on a southern lake with a funny name.

I remember the fish as always being monstrous, chainsaws with spiny rays, and the gear used, unimaginably complex and varied with lures diving down and up and sideways, hither and yon, flashing and sometimes squeaking, with fisherman poised seemingly right on top of the fish, yanking them from pond water infested with branches and roots and weeds and slime foul enough to gag an alligator. I also remember pictures in magazines, fantastic photos of largemouth bass pirouetting in the air with an almost equally fantastic man-made device dangling from its jaw. The impression was that these fish would fight on for a long time. A very long time indeed. Man against beast. Yet somehow these masters of the fish would yank them out of the water in just a few moments, raising them triumphantly by the lower jaw. Amazing, I was intimidated by it all. But I learned, too, that, like lots of things, the myth is larger than the fish. Soon I began to devour books on bass, most of which placed bass fly-fishing in a more realistic context with my other fishing. They invited me to the sport, reminding me of the all nonsense mega sports can become. I don't have lots of strategies to download on you. There are too many books that can give you that. Read every book you can, especially those on the natural history of bass. There is a lot to learn, and it is fun learning, but it is not that difficult to catch bass. You might find yourself being more particular about the water you fish and more observant than when fishing for others species of fish, something more akin to a hunting frame of reference.

Bass are the future of fly-fishing. Well, maybe. Fly-fishers are just beginning to see the tremendous advantages of fishing for bass. Let's look at this more closely. Why bass? Bass are a modern fish, genetically speaking. They are a very survivable species capable of living in the warmest and filthiest of pond water. In a sense, then, they are more advanced than trout, though maybe this is subjective biology. Certainly they are better than trout at doing a few things, like stalking and ambushing their prey, which consists of everything from trout-like fare such as chironomids and mayflies (yes, they'll eat tiny stuff) to large frogs, popcorn and baby ducks. A baby duck would probably frighten a large trout to death. Pound for pound bass fight harder and longer than any trout shy of steelhead size. Their somewhat flattened body makes them that much harder to fight with a fly rod, like trying to fight a frying pan through the water. And who can complain about a bass exploding onto a surface fly like a triton missile?

If you are going to catch a bass, act like a bass. This doesn't mean you have to eat frogs and harass cute little baby ducks, but you need to think like a bass. When I talk to bass fishers, I often get a similar reaction. Fishing for bass inclines you to stalk them like they stalk their prey. Trout are more refined, gentle fish. Trout in a lake, you wait for. You can troll, but basically most trout fishing involves keying into the basic fact that trout in a lake are on the move cruising. They do some stalking but they don't have the explosive body/muscle type that makes a bass attack like a linebacker through the weeds and into their prey. Fishing for bass reminds me of fishing for trout in rivers. I enjoy anticipating where a trout lies, and then stalking them. Fishing for bass forces me to have a similar degree of awareness, observation and anticipation. It forces me to stalk them, to be careful and quiet and patient, to use all my senses just a little bit more than I would for trout. I try to anticipate any potential ambush point like a small rock pile, a pile of brush half submerged in water, logs diving into the water, and my favorite:yard-wide floating islands of tules and bulrushes. These little moving forests may not be the ideal bass location, but they fascinate me. Try picking one up out of the water, and you'll see what a perfectly messy little, moving shield they offer for a bass. I usually fish the shady side of these little islands. But to be honest, visit your local library. Fly-fishing, more so than any other sport, is a sport of active participation mingled with active reading. My point is that the behavior of bass to lie in wait for their prey causes me to do the same. This way, I'm always anticipating something big about to happen on the water. I also don't get bored as I often do with trout fishing, trolling around hoping to intercept something.

I guess no article on bass is complete without some thoughts on bass gear and casting techniques. Bear in mind that , like any writer, I can only give my attitude toward things–and I am no means in the majority about bass, or about anything else for that matter. As bass rods go, I go pretty light. I often use the same six weight I use for trout. To get started in bass fishing, you don't need special gear. You don't really need anything different than your regular trout gear (except for the flies, maybe). Keep in mind, the limitations, though, if you choose to go light, you can't cast those way cool bugs the size of robins.

Now, I'll fish a nine weight rod (my steelhead rod) occasionally when I want to launch some bigger contraption I've devised on the water, but normally I enjoy a lighter rod. I use a double-tapered line because I don't feel a need to cast long distances. Keep in mind though that any store clerk, when asked about bass fly-fishing, will inform you that you must have a bass tapered line or similar weight-forward line. It is a personal choice whether you choose to buy them, but my point is you don't have to have them, especially if your flies are, like mine, scaled down. I don't fish with the biggest bass flies. The biggest fly I fish is a small thin Dahlberg Diver and numerous variations of my own that go by other names but are essentially Dahlberg Divers. Some pop more on the water and dive less, but mainly due to what are slight tying evolutions that are really just mutations of the Dahlberg Diving theme. Deer hair is an ideal material for bass bugs because of the size of the bugs you can create, while giving you endless variety of creative ways to trim the fly to suit your casting and your impression of what the bass wants to kill. If you try to tie something with dry hackle, you'll end up wasting half a bird skin before you can get the thing to float well. Bass will eat small flies as well. I've caught many on size 12 Zug Bugs. It is a fun challenge because this kind of fishing tends to be very targeted. But you don't want to randomly throw around small flies in a searching pattern, or you'll spend the entire afternoon shaking off bluegills

The way to figure out how big a fly you can cast with a fairly light line is to tie a few bass bugs and take them on the water with a pair of fly tying scissors. After making a few casts, you'll probably decide the bug is too big. Start trimming it until it begins to cast better for you, making sure to keep the general dimensions of the original shape. Many a fly pattern was invented by trimming on-site and watching the new effect on the water, turning the pond into your laboratory. Bass aren't too particular about a specific type of commotion on top of the water. If the thing moves, it will come. Some people spin on deer hair and don't trim it at all, figuring, I imagine, that the messier and more chaotic the fly, the bigger the commotion and the more psychotic they'll make the bass. Smaller flies can create enough commotion on the water. So there is probably no point in yanking the fly through the water until you feel a muscle strain. Moving a fly is only one strategy. Even the better tournament bass fishers have learned the lesson of slowing down the retrieve using some flies at a creeping pace. This kind of presentation is the stuff fly-fishing is made of. Typically, I don't move a fly at all once it hits the water. It just sits like something dead or confused until I grow a little impatient. Then I give it a single twitch. Them maybe another twitch or two. Then maybe a bigger yank after the opening strategies failed to lure a fish.

Another strategy that gets me around casting issues is designing flies that have the appearance of size with very little weight and resistance through the air. These usually sink very slowly and are made up of a closely trimmed marabou body with a single two-inch length of hen feather tied on as a tail–extremely simple flies, extremely thin and light weight, and very effective. Woolly Buggers are similarly easy to cast, give the impression of a meat moving through the water, and swim. One of the best strategies to improve the casting of larger flies is very simple: Practice your casting. A better casting stroke will cast a larger fly. Now you aren't casting little Olive Duns out there, so don't cast like you are. To cast a big fly, learn to be patient in your casting stroke. Learn to wait for the line to completely unfurl behind you before launching the fly. In time, you'll begin to feel the tug (sometimes a yank) of the fly behind you. The forward cast doesn't need to be shot like a cannon. A lobbing type of casting can work very well, a long as you aren't trying to cast 80 feet. If you want to cast a bass bug 80 feet, you have the wrong weight rod (in which case you should be fishing with your steelhead rod). Most bass, no matter the size ,can be reached from 20 to 50 feet, as long as you are being very quiet on the water. Let the bug make all the noise, not you.

So cast away with confidence, which as we all have been told, is 80 percent of the success in the sport. Bass fly-fishing allows you to become very creative, and to start thinking about fishing in new terms, terms that may help you whether you fish or not.

Answers to "Match That Fly"

1. Elk Hair Caddis
2. Rat-Faced MacDougal
3. Royal Coachman
4. Mickey Finn
5. Royal Humpy

Now, try to tie some of these!

[Web links are to the fine online resource at Danica.com]