Now before y’all go to judging the title of this post, let me be very clear…I am not messing around. This past year, I was lucky enough to discover some backwater areas to throw a fly that provided some of the wildest fishing opportunities (considering I just hopped in a car and was there). For anyone that has fished the freshwater swamps of Georgia, the Carolinas, or Florida, you will know what I mean when I say that you never know what you might run into. The water can be murky, deep, and filled with a variety of species (not just fish) that can quickly make the hair on your arms stand up if you are not prepared.

As for what I came across this year, the fishing was off the charts. Having explored some of this water by foot in the past, I knew that fish lived here and had run into some in the past, but always wondered what would happen if I could get the paddle-board out there. So with my Jeep locked and loaded, we found a dirt path down to this backwater swamp, and headed in for quite the adventure. I probably fished this body of water three times over a three day period.

Upon my first outing, I was welcomed by an orchestra: fish rolling everywhere, gators swimming around, and birds of all sizes letting me know that they were there. For awhile on the first day even had about a 6-foot gator follow the paddle-board around until it realized that I had nothing that he wanted (until it would hear a splashing fish of course). Based on what I had seen, I knew that my primary target was going to be Bowfin. For those of you that follow this blog, you will know that Bowfin have a special place in my fishy heart, in that they are still relatively “newer” to me and I have always found them to be unbelievable fish. They fight hard, are prehistoric, and have an attitude. What is not to love! I could tell that many of the fish rolling were Bowfin by how they were gulping the air, and I equipped my 8-weight accordingly with 30-Pound straight mono and one of my go to bright yellow flies.

Within 10-minutes, we were already hooking up to fish. Bass, crappie, and warmouth were all on the board. All very nice, but still waiting on the good ol’ Bowfy. Upon pulling up to a laid down tree and laying out a nice cast, my line went tight and proceeded to shoot off at unprecedented speed. My mind immediately went to a Bowfin, but this fish was staying deep and felt like a 20+ pound fish that I was not expecting. Thought I might have snagged a carp, or possibly even a small gator, but after a 20-minute fight (not kidding) I saw a 4+ foot shape next to my paddle-board and let out a shout of surprise. I had hooked the largest Longnose Gar of my life and had a strong hook in the perfect spot of the mouth. After putting on a glove to protect myself from the teeth, I was able to get my hands on the fish and onto the board for some great photo ops. Gar are another under appreciated fish, but on a paddle board and at this size, you would be a fool not to enjoy.

After chugging a Gatorade in pure exhaustion after someone getting this fish on the board and getting some photos, I was back to wondering where my Bowfy friends were. Kept seeing them roll everywhere, even saw a few getting spooked from my board, but none were eating yet. With this said, I know how these fish can be. Depth is often times a major component in catching them, and based on not being able to touch bottom with my 6+foot long push pole, proceeded to find a shallow end of the swamp to give that a try. Within 5-minutes of finding shallow water, pure mayhem ensued. Was catching a Bowfin every 10-minutes and getting my board pulled all around the swamp. They were smashing anything big a yellow stripped fast, and also proceeded to snap off my straight mono more than a few times. After catching a handful of nice fish, I threw a cast under a tree and had a take that exploded the water. Immediately was praying that this was a huge bowfin and not another gar, and to my best wishes, it came true. My biggest bowfin ever was on the line, and I proceeded to lock in and focus on getting this fish in the net. After multiple jumps, net dives, and getting my line off a stick or two from the fish taking me into the trees, I was able to get this fish in the net! BUT…the freaking monster cut a whole through my rubber net with its teeth and proceeded to continue the fight. I somehow managed to get my net in the boat, re-fight the fish, and get my hands on a massive bowfin that I was ecstatic to see. Below is a self timed picture of the big girl.

After catching close to ten Bowfin, I decided to call it a day and go spend some time with my girlfriend and the pups we were babysitting, But with this said, knew I would be coming back out the following days. The following days proceeded to be great as well (mind you not as good as this first day, but still plenty of fish). I was able to get out one night without the board and fish from the shore and landed a nice Bowfin that took me for quite the ride. Also was lucky enough to run into a Chain Pickerel that isn’t always the most common site in these southern waters. Haven’t caught a lot of these, so always a welcomed site.

As will be a theme to the vast majority of my outings this year (due to work, family needs, and the pandemic), figuring out where fish live within driving distance has become so critical for me. We can’t always find time to get on an airplane and travel around the world, but we can find a 3-day weekend to get out and pursue our passion. Really will never understand ANYONE that wants to trash on the opportunities that some of these fish can bring.

Tight lines and thank you!

Joe

For anyone that reads this blog (big thank you for those that do), you may be beginning to think “is there any fish that this dude really doesn’t like, or refer to as one of his favorites?” Truthfully, that analysis would not be wrong in that I have always been outspoken about wanting to fly fish anywhere, at anytime, for anything.

With this said, 2020 did introduce me to a new fish species (which is always a major thrill to me) and I’m looking forward to sharpening my sword in how to catch these guys more often. I’m referring to the Bowfin (also known as the mudfish, dogfish, grinnel, and the list goes on).

Strangely enough, this fish had been on my US fish species “bucket list” for some time. While fly fishing for bass in some of the backwater freshwater areas of Florida over the years (Panhandle, Everglades, etc), I had from time to time seen these fish, but never had put in the time to actually target them. From everything I had heard and seen, they fought hard, were mean, and were a grossly underrated fly rod species. Since I moved to the Southeast, I made it a goal find some places to catch Bowfin, and more importantly learn how to consistently make day trips out for them. Fortunately, I would say I have found some success thus far.

I have been lucky to find a few spots where I consistently see these fish, and more importantly, areas where they have been willing to cooperate with a fly. Although I will not claim to be extremely knowledgeable with these fish quite yet, there are a two constants to success I have found:

1. Yellow or go home : Usually not one to swear by a single fly color, but the Bowfin I have caught seem to have a major crush on any material that is yellow/chartreuse (bunny strips, marabou, bucktail, whatever).
2. Never say never in terms of where to throw : These fish will get up in all sorts of swampy, loggy, lily pad landscapes where you don’t think a big fish could be. The biggest bowfin I have caught was right up in the “junk” of a GA backwater creek system, and never in a million years was I expecting a big fish to come from the cast I had made.

Not to trash talk on bass, but these Bowfin really can put a largemouth to shame in terms of a fight. Based on what I have experienced so far with these fish, I would NEVER be disappointed to hook into one of these even if I was targeting bass. Truthfully, would probably even prefer it! They jump like crazy, thrash their heads like a saltwater predator, and become extra lively at the end of fights. Especially for me when I fish from them off of the micro-skiff/stand up paddle board. Their teeth are no joke, and I would recommend a minimum of 15-pound test if purposefully fishing for these guys (preferably 20-pounds). Although there will be opportunities to sight fish for them based on water clarity, I have had the most luck so far in dirtier back waters where visibility is low, which has made me so far not be too worried about spooking them with heavier tippet.

In terms of where to fish for these guys, I had to do a vast amount of research to find an area within a hour of me that was a feasible option, but boy was it worth it. I have also found that warm water is usually good, and these fish will even roll from time to time making them a bit easier to target. My recommendation would be to search for areas with low oxygenated water that are a bit off the beaten path. What is nice about these fish is that they are anywhere in the Southeast, and I have found success with them in Florida, Georgia, and South Carolina.

I hope that 2021 will consist of more of these fish, and it’s not every day that you can catch a fossil/fish/almost dinosaur. These fish are crazy (they can even breathe air!), and I look forward to fine tuning my approach to catching them.

Joe

When I first started dipping my toe into the fishing scene down in Georgia, one thing was pretty apparent. This state loves their bass fishing. Having fly fished for bass all my life in a variety of environments (river float trips, large lakes, small ponds, drainages below reservoirs), I was somewhat expecting the results and tactics to be similar down here. With this said, I quickly learned that Georgia has one of the most diverse environments to fly fish for bass in the country, and I was fortunate enough this year to experience throwing fly line at these fish in a multitude of ways.

To begin with, Georgia is blessed to have a handful of very different bass species swimming throughout it’s waters: largemouth bass, spotted bass, redeye bass, and striped bass all call this place home. Although I have not yet fully committed myself to the striped bass here yet (having a bigger boat would be nice for this), I have been lucky enough to pull on largemouth, spots, and redeye throughout the state. What is interesting about these three species of bass is how different they all are, and how each one gives you an individual experience while on the water. The best part of it is that you are able to pick your preference on which one to target no matter the time of year.

Let’s start with the classic largemouth bass. The good ol’ US of A freshwater fish that mostly everyone knows. I have been able to find numerous water bodies in the greater Atlanta area that hold these fish, some being of immense size and eager to take large flies. To be quite honest, I need to appreciate these fish more in that they are the most easily accessible of the bass species here. Not only that, but they are willing to hit top water flies when fished at the right time. Although I wouldn’t say that Georgia matches Florida in terms of the largemouth fishery, I have been impressed with the fish that I have found down here.

For our next Georgia bass, let’s talk about the spotted bass. Prevalent throughout the state (especially in large bodies of water and river systems), I personally believe that the spotted bass gets a bad rap. Many people do not prefer these guys over the largemouth in that they are technically not native to the state. With this said, I believe that they have drastically improved numerous fisheries throughout the state, and also pull harder than the majority of their largemouth friends. Based on my experience, they also are a little bit friendlier to colder water in that they remain active throughout fall and winter. They somewhat remind me of brown trout out in Colorado: lots of people prefer the rainbows and cutthroats, but the browns are really what can pull a line and save a fishing day at times.

Spotted bass are also interesting in that I fish for them significantly different than I do largemouth. Although they will crush a topwater fly, many of the largest spots I have caught have been in deeper water on some of the largest lakes in the state (Lanier, Allatoona). These fish spawn at different times of the year, and also will spawn deeper in the water column. Because of this, intermediate fly lines can really help with success. 2020 provided me with some great spotted bass, and I’m already looking forward to it warming up enough to get back out on the Bote for the spring.

As for the last species in this post, I have saved the most unique. The redeye bass. Many of you may not even know that these existed, in that they are native to the Southeastern US and are not the typical bass species that people will go after. They have several subspecies, and extremely specific ranges in which they inhabit. So far I have focused on the Coosa and Bartram’s strain, but there are a handful of other strains that I look forward to going after.

What makes these fish so special is where you find them. Unlike their largemouth and spotted friends, these fish really rely on colder, moving water in rivers and creeks. You will not find them in ponds, lakes, or even low oxygen parts of a moving system. They are somewhat crazy in the sense that when you are fishing for them, you almost feel like you are fishing for trout. These fish require clean and clear water, and my best method of catching them so far consists of a well stripped wooly bugger in a fast current. They literally act like a trout version of a bass, and that to me was a first when I came across them this year.

Another thing to consider about the redeye bass is that these are not big fish. A 10-inch redeye bass is considered to be a nice one, but as you will see in these pictures, they are beyond a pretty fish and make up for their size in terms of the fight, aggressiveness, and scenery that they provide you with. Although I have found some great areas to target these fish, I am still looking forward to exploring new waters during peak season (warmer months) and throwing topwater flies for them.

2020 was a great year for all of the Georgia bass species that I’m lucky enough to have in driving range. Looking forward to getting on some more this year!

Joe

What a year. Although unacceptable that I have not been posting stories as they have taken place this year, definitely wanted to take the time to get some posts in before the New Year. For the sake of everyone, I won’t dive into the absurdity of everything that has taken place in 2020. With this said, I will say one thing on behalf of every fly-fisherman out there : can’t wait to travel more for some fishing adventures in 2021.

Fortunately on my end, my dad and I were able to get in an Isla Holbox tarpon trip right before much of the lockdowns took place. Although many tarpon trips are “time of year” dependent, Isla Holbox is one of the few places on earth where tarpon can be caught year round. Personally, I think that fishing during the “winter” in Holbox can be some of the most productive. This year was a perfect example.

We arrived in Holbox just after the start of the New Year to beautiful weather, a quiet island, and lots of “snacky” feeling fish. Although the wind and time of year was not conducive for going after the “larger” tarpon, the conditions were looking solid for the juveniles (ranging anywhere from 5-30 pounds). Although our first day of fishing was a bit quiet due to wind and fish staying down, on our second day of fishing, we tore it up. Fish were rolling everywhere in smalls schools, and we had enough light to watch it all go down. Throwing the lightest flies we had in either yellow/brown, or in tan/white, we were able to land four tarpon (one being an absolute stud of a juvenile that was pushing 30 pounds and pushed our 8-weight to it’s limit). This fish specifically was the largest “juvenile” that I have caught back in the mangroves – was pretty special to watch it come out of a school of three fish to engulf the fly and go air born.

Day 2 of our trip seemed to just set the tone for the rest of the week. Now that we were well on the board, we wanted to use the rest of the week to fish in new spots, connect into some more fish, as well as mix it up with techniques every now and then. Although the majority of the time in Holbox will be spent pulling across the mangroves and flats surrounding them, we took some time this trip to find a few “drop off” channels and throw some clouser style flies to mix it up a bit. What was nice about this strategy was that you would run into the occasional snook (too many to count), mangrove snapper, or jack if the tarpon were tight lipped. Anyone that has spent any type on my blog or followed the fishing that I do knows that I don’t discriminate against any fish species (for the most part), and Holbox provides terrific diversity in between tarpon sessions.

We were fortunate enough in our last couple of days to find some massive schools of tarpon in crystal clear water. I’m talking 50+ fish easy that were making their way up and down the flats, and were rolling consistently throughout the day. As weird as this might sound, there were almost so many fish that it actually made them more challenging than if they were in small groups or individually being thrown at. Keep in mind that the water here was less than two feet deep and clear as can be, so all it took was for one fish to spook to throw off the rest. The trick with these fish was to throw as light and natural of a looking fly as humanly possible, lead the fish by 30+ feet and let the fly wait, to only be stripped when the fish were in range to see it. With the sun as high as it was, these fish could tell when fly line was flinging around, so we had to get these casts down quick and well ahead of time. Fortunately for us, the fish were willing to cooperate once we had the right fly on.

My dad and I were very lucky to get this trip in before the madness of 2020 kicked into gear. Here is to many more Holbox trips ahead of us, and a quick gratitude moment of being able to have this trip line up in the way that I did.

Joe