Potter County Fishing Report - Project Healing Waters: It Really is a Small World, 22-25 May

Last week the God's Country Chapter of Trout Unlimited participated in a Project Healing Waters fly fishing event, held at Roy and Cathy Magarigal's Moore's Run Fish and Game Preserve in Austin, about a half hour south of us (http://www.patrout.com/).  Project Healing Waters is a nonprofit organization dedicated to the rehabilitation of disabled vets through fly fishing.  This year marked the 10th anniversary of that our chapter has been involved in the program.

The PHW regional coordinator, working with the VA, selected 14 vets from the western Pennsylvania and western New York areas to travel to Austin for the three day event.  Tuesday afternoon chapter members, vets, and motorcycle escorts gathered in Shinglehouse, then moved to Oswayo Valley High School, where about 300 students and faculty members gave the vets a warm welcome.

                                                  

From Shinglehouse the parade made its way to Coudersport, about 20 miles south.  Along the way families would be outside their homes waving flags, with a crowd of about 1000 or so folks lining Main Street and Cole Memorial Hospital in Coudersport to show their support for the program.

After a brief stop at the Coudersport American Legion, the convoy headed to the First Fork Lodge in Costello (http://www.firstforklodge.net/), where the vets would stay for the next three nights.  Tuesday evening's festivities included an outstanding prime rib dinner, courtesy of owners Linda and Jack Krafft.  And it was right before dinner that we had one of those surreal experiences that truly reflect how small the world actually is.  Mary, I, and God's Country chapter president Pete Ryan were hanging out in a sitting room chatting with a couple of the vets.  Introductions started in the predictable way, except that in this case taking an unexpected turn. I first asked the vet sitting across from me what his branch of service was.  He replied, "Navy."  Me too, I replied.  Then I asked what he did in the Navy.  He replied that he had served in helicopters, specifically the SH-60 Seahawk, which I responded that I had flown with several Seahawk squadrons as well.  When I asked him what squadron he had served with, the vet replied that it was a small outfit out of Norfolk that I probably wasn't familiar with. When I pressed him for its name, and he replied with HCS-4, I quickly responded  that I was not only familiar with the squadron, but with one of its former pilots.  That's when the world shrank considerably, as I asked him if he knew Capt. Joe DiPaola, who had deployed twice with the squadron to Iraq.  "Joe DiPaola, I know Joe DiPaola ... I was his door gunner!", he exclaimed"  Chief Bryan "Tbone" Trembath, who now owns a contracting business in Mars, PA, spent his last deployments in the Navy keeping Joe out of harms way, replied to a last minute invitation to join our PHW event and jumped at the chance.

So when the vets showed up at Roy's preserve Wednesday morning to fish, karma dictated that Tbone and I fish together.  You can go back about a year in this blog and find a prior entry that describes Roy's fishing preserve.  All I'll say is that, if you want the opportunity to catch a big trout in a small stream, this is the place to be.  And this year's fishing was just as phenomenal.  The weather was a bit warm for mid-May, but recent rains had Big Moore's Run in great condition.  Over the ensuing two days Bryan fished the stream and the pond on Roy's property, both offering up pretty decent sized Kamloops Rainbows and Browns.

                                      

Although this was only his second fly fishing outing, Bryan quickly mastered the intricacies (and frustrations) of small stream fishing, and over the course of 2 days easily caught over dozen trout, many in the 18-20 inch range.  We fished dries, dry/droppers, streamers, and nymphs, with a Mary-tied Rainbow Warrior bringing some gorgeous fish to the next the first day.

While the chapter members were there to serve as guides, Mary and I did get to sneak out for a couple of hours on our own.  A Chernobyl Ant with a Pheasant Tail dropper placed along the creek bank proved just the meal ticket for a hungry Brown which came out of nowhere and gulped down the big meal:

Mary got to break in her new Hardy 4wt rod and reel on a nice Rainbow which slammed a Green Drake Parachute in Roy's pond:

The event was an unqualified success.  What is truly impressive, though, is all of the work that goes into making this outing work year after year.  It's truly a community undertaking.  The Kraffts and Magarigal's donate the use of their establishments (including stocking about 200 trout from Roy's hatchery, many of which were well over 20 inches!), despite it being the peak time of the year for fly fishing.  Under the outstanding leadership of president Pete Ryan and vice president Dave Saulter (who does yeoman's work coordinating the parade), the God's Country chapter members  provide the guiding service and fly tying instruction, and are constantly on hand to cater to the vets needs.  The Austin-Costello Sportsmen's Club provides its facilities for the fly tying class and lunch on Wednesday.  Otto Deutsch, who is an absolute master at the smoker, served up a phenomenal prime rib dinner on Thursday evening, while a women's Quilting Group from Shinglehouse helped serve the vets, and also presented them with personalized quilts.  And residents and businesses from around the county donate generously to ensure that the vets are provided with a first-rate experience.

I really don't buy the notion that fly fishing is some ethereal experience; perhaps that's reserved for the "mandarins" of the sport.  But while we in the rank and file might never achieve the zen state, I can see how Project Healing Waters, and fly fishing, can help a disabled vet, or anyone for that matter.  There's really nothing about the physical act of fly fishing that in itself is therapeutic.  It's rather what's going on in your head while your fishing.  Simply put, everything involved in trying to catch a trout while standing on the slippery bottom of a stream, surrounded by trees, with a flimsy rod, thin leaders, and some feathers tied to a tiny hook, crowds out everything else that would be occupying your brain.  And so, for at least a couple of days, Brian and his comrades were able to push out the physical and emotional pain, and replace it with no other thoughts than how to catch and land a fish.  The relief might be only temporary, but I would think that any distance a vet can put between him and his disability is a good thing.  And, to all of the folks who made it possible for the vets to create that distance, your contribution mattered.

Tight Lines,
Mikey D Fishing

Nicaraguan Tarpon Photo Collage

Nicaragua Fishing Report 27 April-01 May

I suppose if you watch enough fishing shows or read enough articles, fishing for tarpon almost appears like some mystical undertaking, reserved for anglers with names like Flip, Jose, or Lefty.  I suppose if you're under the critical eye of a guide, and expected to place a fly from 60 feet to within three feet of a cruising fish, make the perfect set if the fish eats the fly, and then fight and land a fish while the guide barks directions, you could be right.  But in reality tarpon are like any other fish.  They eat, they pull, they jump, and after a fight they tire and are brought to the boat.  So for the rank and file angler tarpon fishing is all about the approach.  I'm talking about attitude, not proximity to the fish.  Perhaps every time Flip goes tarpon fishing he expects to catch a fish.  Bully for a guy that spends all his time on the water.  For the rest of us, who get maybe one or two opportunities to try for tarpon, expectations need to be checked before you get into the boat.  Tarpon fishing is aspirational.  You hope to see the fish, you hope to get a shot, you hope to get a hook set, you hope to hold on and keep the fly in the fish's mouth and the leader intact.  And, if all goes well, bringing the fish to the boat is gravy.

But first you have to go where the tarpon are.  So when our original plan to fish the Keys went awry, Captains DiPaola and Felker did a little internet research and set up a trip to the Rio Indio Lodge in San Juan de Nicaragua.  The lodge is located a few miles north of the border with Costa Rica, a short boat ride from the small village of San Juan de Nicaragua (or its British name of Greytown).  It sits right in the no kidding jungle; monkeys everywhere, crocodiles in the river, bugs galore. But the lodge is very accommodating, the staff phenomenal, and the rooms extremely comfortable (with working AC).

Getting there was a trip in itself.  We overnighted in San Jose Costa Rica, then on Saturday morning took a short flight to the airport in Greytown.  After clearing customs we hopped a boat (the only means of getting around ... there are no roads in this part of the country) for the 5 minute ride to the lodge.  Once we got our gear stowed we were out on the water by about 1030.  Weather was what you would expect in the jungle; temps in the 80s, humidity hovering around 90 percent or so.  We headed out to the coast, which in May is where the tarpon were allegedly hanging out.  After two hours of drifting around, our guide Rosendo Ruiz decided it was time for lunch.  Meals at the lodge were local fare; pork, chicken, beef, rice, black beans.  Uncomplicated, but extremely well prepared and delicious.  After lunch it was time to hit the water again.  For about an hour or so we continued drifting with no sightings.  The tactics for the three days were pretty simple.  Unless we saw fish, Rosendo would position the boat about a mile or so offshore, we would strip out about 40 feet of line (sinking lines a must to get the flies down), and as the easterly winds pushed the boat toward the shore we would keep the flies moving either by stripping a few feet, or jigging the fly.  It may seem pedantic, but if you don't see fish breaking the surface, there's really nothing else to do but keep the fly in the presumed path of the fish.  The other advantage is not wearing yourself out casting a 12 weight fly rod.

 At about 3:15 Joe noticed a flash near the boat.  As my line was about 5 feet away from his, I started striping to see if I could entice a strike.  Then it happened.  My line went tight for a brief moment, then the reel started whining as line started peeling off.  Tightening down the drag slowed the fish, which apparently jumped out of the water soon after I strip set the hook.  If it did I can't remember.  The first 30 seconds of the fight was a blur.  After that my brain caught up to the fish and then the fight was on.  For about 20 minutes the fish rushed the boat, ran away from the boat, jumped, rushed the boat, went under and around the boat (which put a bend in my Sage 12 weight that was hard to believe), a sequence that was repeated several times before the tarpon tired enough for Rosendo to grab the leader and control the 30-40 lb fish until it could be brought into the boat.  A few pics later we put the tarpon back in the water, ran him back and forth through the water until he was revived enough to swim away.

Mission partially accomplished.  We returned to our previous tactics, and I was rewarded with a second fish that went about 80lbs, which we were able to get a leader touch before the fish bolted from the boat and broke off the fly.

Joe was able to get a strike that afternoon, but lost his fly after a short fight.  No matter.  The rest of the trip would belong to Joe.  After breakfast on Sunday we headed back out to the same area, but this time we saw tarpon breaking the surface.  With lines out and after a few strips Joe was on.  His fight took a few minutes longer, but the tarpon's modus operandi was the same.  Again, constant pressure and deft maneuvering as the fish went around (and under) the boat was key to tiring the fish out.  Joe's fish turned out to be considerably bigger ...  a good 50 and probably closer to 60 lbs, a small tarpon by lodge standards, but it looked huge to me.  Mission accomplished.  After Joe landed his fish the school disappeared, and we drifted for awhile more before heading back to the lodge for dinner.

As it turned out, from a gear perspective we were both over prepared and underprepared for the trip.  While 12 weight rods are a must, we should have brought some 8 wts for Snook.  We bought a bunch of pre-tied trapon leaders, but watching our guide cut up our leaders made us realize we could have gotten away with a spool of 80lb flourocarbon line.  As for flies, I recommend when going to a remote location to stay away from the big box fly fishing companies and call an outfitter to tailor your flies to the location.  A huge shout out to the staff at Blackfly Outfitters in Jacksonville Fl (https://www.blackflyoutfitters.com/), who tied the flies that caught fish.

Sunday night a massive storm blew through that changed conditions significantly.  For our first two days we fished under partly cloudy skies and winds around 10 knots.  Monday morning we were greeted by easterly winds easily in the 20 knot range, with swells averaging 3-4 feet, with several that easily went 6-8 feet.  It didn't seem like conditions conducive to hooking a fish, and after an hour or so of being thrown around in the 27 foot boat Joe and I looked at each other with that "why are we out here in this stuff" look.  It wasn't long after that moment of doubt that Joe shouted "I'm on!" and was into a fish that the guide estimated went 100 lbs. A couple of glimpses of the fish as it jumped confirmed it was the fish of the trip.  And, had conditions been a little more reasonable, Joe would have boated the fish.  As it was, the weather and the fish conspired against him.  The tarpon got on the other side of a 6-7 foot swell, and the extra tension broke the big fish off.  But Joe was rewarded a bit later, when a 48 inch barracuda hit his fly that, despite a mono leader, he managed to bring the toothy fish into the boat.  With that Rosendo decided that we'd be better off heading back to the lodge for lunch.  Good call.  And with the winds expected to only increase, we decided to fish calmer waters, and headed up the river to fish for Snook.  While it was fun traveling up a jungle river, the fish were not accommodating.  Fortunately, the staff had caught a couple of nice Snook that morning, so we at least got to enjoy some fillets at dinner.

If you're into adventure, the Rio Indio is the place to go.  And, according to the owners, September and October see the arrival of calmer weather and a migration of tarpon from Venezuela that tip the scales over 200 lbs.  As for the staff, we could not have asked for a better guide.  Rosendo put us on
fish, but more importantly kept things calm in the boat.  As he put it best ... "no pressure."  Which was how fishing for tarpon ought to be.  Whether you're rewarded with a photo or not, just being around the fish, with the chance of getting the fight of your life, is worth the trip.  Like I said, it's all about attitude.

Tight Lines,
Mikey D Fishing