Gary Meyer | Tuesday, 30 April 2019
This year, the challenge of winter-time snook fishing once again supplied a number of observations that, in retrospect, were both intriguing and potentially useful. The area I fished was actually a different ecosystem than where I have been fishing over the last decade or so, but that realization was not at all obvious to me in the beginning.
The environment that I had fished previously was one of much higher salinity. I actually began to unravel some of the mystery of that area, but the hurricane of a few years back completely altered it. So, this last winter I expanded to some new waters. Both areas were similar to the eye in topography, but the former was much more prone to saltwater intrusion via tides and wind. The areas I just got done fishing, although still salty to the tongue, contained much less salt, but it took a laboratory grade refractometer to tell the difference.
At the old locations, snook were actually the dominant species of predators. They only had themselves as competition. And there was an abundance of a certain small baitfish for them to prey upon. A simple Sculpin style fly of the right size usually did the trick. However, in the less saline waters I fished this past winter, the snook were vastly outnumbered by an invasive exotic panfish called a Mayan Cichlid. Apparently, the lower salinity is acceptable to the exotics, but it looks to be too low for the salt loving baitfish of the other area.
Having had much success with the Sculpin flies in the past, naturally, that is what I started with, but that proved to be a mistake as they did not “match the hatch” as they say. There was an even bigger problem however, since the numerous and aggressive Cichlids simply devoured the small flies on sight. It took a while to sink in, but after my fishing partner and I both observed the same thing, we eventually caught the clue.
Both of us had snook tentatively follow our smallish flies, only to observe a gang of Cichlids to rush in and snatch it from right in front of the snook’s face. How many times does that have to happen before a predator becomes unlikely to bother? Most experienced snook anglers know that large fish are seldom found near youngsters for what is assumed to be the same reason. The older fish either cannot, or care not, to compete with their much more agile and aggressive younger cousins.
The sights of aggressive larger snook we observed were not them busting on small baitfish: it was the snook chasing the Cichlids! That, as they say, is a horse of a different color! Or, to be more specific to fly fishing – that is a fly of a completely different size.
So, instead of using light rods (5 or 6wts) to quietly present smallish flies, the challenge became presenting much larger flies, but still quietly. A large snook fly is not quite as big as I have seen used on pike and Muskies, but they still need to be in that 5 to 6 inch range to keep the Cichlids at bay. So, how do you quickly and accurately present a largish fly to a sensitive fish? Oh, and usually you have limited back cast room… just to make it a bit tougher. I will let you know when I figure it out. This year I ran out of winter.
But, that has not stopped me from playing with rods, lines and leaders… and that is where all the variables started to show up.
I think I found something like what I have read about casting shooting heads, but at the other end of the head. My experience with SH systems is limited, but I have read and experienced how you need just the right amount of overhang to get the cast to work well. No overhang and distance suffers/ the right amount and the cast is sweet/ too much overhang and the rod is just putting waves in the running line… or at least that is what happens to me.
Playing with predator lines, very long leaders, and largish flies seems to have similar requirements. Leader length and profile are critical dimensions- much like that “just right” amount of overhang. Get it right and loop shape and turnover are sweet. Too short or too aggressive and even a big fly will kick like a mule. A leader too long or too subtle and the flyline tip gets loose from the calming effect of the fly. Unfortunately, while overhang can be simply adjusted before the next cast, leaders require adding or trimming material and new knots to make adjustments.
Lately, my leader box is going to the practice field with me, and so does a small bucket of water. Wet flies are heavier! It seems like a lot of work but getting the front end of the system balanced is unbelievably apparent when the flies get to this size.