Photo by Kirk Deeter

My favorite type of fly fishing is sight fishing. Doesn't matter if I'm chasing trout with dry flies (or nymphs), or stalking tailing fish on the flats, to me "top of the game" is always about spotting a fish, then making the cast, and (hopefully) hooking up.  As such, I honestly think the glasses I wear are as important as the rod, reel, line, and fly I use. After all, none of these things works best without the others. 

Lately I've taken a real shine to glass lenses.  It's hard to beat the optical clarity of glass.  Then again, polycarbon (plastic) lenses are safer protection against an errant fly whacking you in the head, and are often more affordable. Glass lasts better for me, and doesn't scratch as easily... there are pros and cons on both sides of the debate.

So what is your number one criteria for selecting fishing glasses?  Is it the lens material? Tint? Frame style... shape... ease of wear?  All the above? Is there a perfect pair of polarized shades?

I've found that I wear different lenses and different tints in different conditions. If I had one to pick it would probably be copper or amber.  But that would be too easy... besides, I'm a sucker for buying different rods, reels, lines, and all that, why would I be any more focused with glasses?

Deeter

Let's start the week by sprinkling some hot sauce... Simple question: Is it fair game or dirty pool to take a grip-'n-grin photograph with a fish you landed, but was foul-hooked?

I ask because it actually came up as an issue on a guide trip this summer. "Joe" was guiding "Bob" when Bob hooked into the biggest rainbow trout he could remember.  Problem was, he hooked it in the pectoral fin.  He did a nice job and landed the fish quickly (perhaps even a more impressive fighting and landing job than if the fish were mouth-hooked)... Good work, Bob.  Next thing I noticed, Joe was grabbing for the camera... "let's get a photo of this!"

I'm thinking whoa, whoa, whoa... get a photo of what, an accident?  If you hit a buck with your car, do you jump out and mug for the camera then also? Let's call it like it is... Bob didn't catch that fish, Joe.  He snagged that fish.  It happens to everyone (good fly fishers less than bad ones)... but that doesn't count.  Does it? And besides, that exhausted fish (more tired than if it were mouth-hooked) should be put in the water, now. Photographing a snagged, whipped, beat-up fish adds insult to injury.

Or maybe where the fish is hooked is just a technicality.  What do you think?  

Another thing... when I guide, I notice that when people foul hook a fish, 99% of them say something like, "I think I had him in the mouth to start with... or I think it rolled on the fly... blah, blah, blah."  And I say, "Nah, you had it in the butt, pretty much right off the bat, Bob," because I think I do the angler more of a service to acknowledge the goof, learn from it, and move on... rather than rationalizing the gaffe.  Foul hook-ups happen.  So isn't honesty the best policy?

Deeter

One of the great things about fly fishing from a kayak is that you can cover a lot of water in virtual silence.  As such, you're inevitably connected to the environment in ways you don't really sense when riding in a power boat or wading.

For example, the other day as I paddled across a small bay among Florida's 10,000 Islands, I counted 26 sharks finning at close range to my boat (sometimes bumping against it).  Bull sharks, lemon sharks, nurse sharks, and some others.  Some longer than 6 feet.  And the thing was, I wasn't at all freaked out by their presence.  Instead, I was awed by their graceful maneuvers in the shallow water.  Watching them ambush mullet was like watching a pride of lions hunt gazelles.  Slow, deliberate, suddenly vicious... with optimal efficiency and grace.

Granted, I was glad not to be wading, and I certainly didn't want to fall out of the boat.  I don't go out of my way to commune with apex ocean predators at close range. (After all, I saw the film "Grizzly Man" and know where communing with brown bears got Tim Treadwell.)  

But I've always thought that shark encounters--fishing, diving, or otherwise--were fantastic opportunities to be enjoyed and appreciated.  Sadly, sharks are often feared more than they are admired.  And I never understood the Neanderthal mentality of some people who kill sharks for the sake of an adrenaline rush.  

Catching sharks, like any other fish, can offer great excitement (apparently even on a Barbie rod... see Mr. Merwin's post below). But in my mind, killing sharks, especially if you aren't going to eat them, defeats that purpose entirely.

Why is it, do you figure that some people are so wigged-out at the sight of a shark, and others are so intent on killing them?

Deeter

Just back from a wild adventure in the Everglades with my buddy Al Keller.  We not only caught the backcountry slam--tarpon, snook and redfish--from kayaks... I also came away with what has to be the greatest camp meal of all time.  

Fresh-caught snook fillets, slow-grilled over a smoky buttonwood fire (the wood is key).  A little olive oil, salt, pepper, and at the very end, a spritz from a fresh key lime.  

Serve with a side of rice (boil-in-bag rice is a staple on any camping trip), and some dried mango.  

Cold beer and hot sauce optional. 

This displaces my former number one greatest camp meal of all time... fresh elk backstrap, grilled medium rare over an aspen fire... with potatoes, and a nice full-bodied cabernet.

Which replaced my other favorite... fresh yellowfin tuna sushi, shaved thin shashimi style, drizzled with sea water (forget the soy sauce)... accompanied with cool watermelon slices and Coca-Cola from a glass bottle.

(Can you tell I like to eat about as much as I like catching fish?)

I'm telling you... the snook trumps all.  Not only is Keller the "fishin' magician," he's a chef.  

So what earns your vote as the ultimate camp meal?  Trout for breakfast?  I think Tim might go for nuts and berries from the field...  How about those duck recipes?

Deeter

P.S.  More on the fishing adventure coming soon.  It was amazing.