Fish are funny
creatures in general and when you put them in shallow water it gets even worse.
Corbina are that way, they make fools of the best fly fishers with an almost
graceful ease. Think that cast was spot on? They’ll just move a foot to the
left in the time it takes for your fly to unroll out of its loop. When you think that fish is coming for your
fly and you’re trembling with anticipation they just swim calmly over top of
it, barely lifting their sand crab stuffed belly far enough from the bottom to
clear the hook point. The fact that you can see all of this happening is both a
blessing and a curse. I think that any type of sight fishing is. So, while sight fishing is the most exciting
way to catch them it’s not the only way.
I’ve been spending
some time fishing in an area that has produced several world record corbina but
not for corbina. Instead I’ve been on a mission to get a big halibut on the fly
and this spot is known for that as well. As summer progresses and the water warms the
halibut have a tendency to head into deeper, cooler water with a little less
penetration of light into their realm. Corbina to an extent will do the
opposite. They enjoy the warming waters and the lack of a marine layer doesn’t
seem to hurt their eyes as much as other species. It could just be that with
the increased visibility from my perch on the beach that I just tend to notice
them more.
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| The question that haunts us.. Which one to use? |
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| I saved a bunch of money by switching to Geico |
I’d been making my
way down the beach taking pictures and casting, my total take for the morning
one slight little needlefish with an impossibly large appetite considering the
size of the flies I was using. I’m
easily distracted so when I saw the remains of what must have been a sand
castle competition I stopped and started taking pictures of that. My fishing
partner however, was much more focused than me.
She continued on down the beach and after I’d entertained myself looking
at the amazing creations that had been left on the beach (I can barely get a
bucket of moist sand to stand correctly) I figured I’d better catch up.
Fishing our way down
the beach she spotted the fish first. The size of it was impressive, most are
around eighteen inches and this one added a half a foot at least to that. Being
the chivalrous male that I am and not wanting to end up with a 7 wt being
broken over my head, I offered to let her cast in the area that she’d spotted
the fish. A few casts later and I hear a
whooping noise followed by “You’ll want to get a picture of this one!” I shuffled my way back over to where she was
backing out of the water trying to get the line clear of her legs and the
stripping basket. A few moments later I
managed to help get the line untangled from around her legs where the surf had
tangled it. I’m positive that there was more than one onlooker laughing
quietly, okay loudly at the sight of me with my camera slung around my neck and
her alternating which foot she was standing on so that I could get the line
clear. Finally the line was cleanly on the reel and it seemed the battle was
won. I was starting to forget my own
disappointment at not getting a cast or two towards the fish before she ran me
off like a grizzly protecting its salmon dinner, in fact I was actually getting
excited at the thought of getting a few shots of it with the camera.
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| The only shot I actually got. |
This was not meant to
be though. I was standing in the surf waiting to get a nice broadside shot of
the fish in the water and planning the series of shots that I wanted once it
was on the sand. A loud, rather
unladylike word came out of her mouth and I turned to see the rod pointed
straight up into the air. If you’re not familiar with fishing that’s not a
position that you want to see the rod in when a fish is supposed to be on the
other end. Something had given and it wasn’t the fish, one last attempt had
earned its early release. The anger level radiating outwards from a roughly
five foot six inch epicenter convinced me to stay well out of range, a distance
I estimated at about twenty feet. The distance I figured she could throw the
rod with any sort of accuracy.
Eventually she
cooled down enough to make the walk back to the vehicles. Being who I am as
soon as I thought I could get away with it I commented on her use of an open
ended loop knot. A knot which I reminded her was very difficult to master. Unfortunately though I had miscalculated both
the amount of time needed for her to cool off and the speed with which the toe
of her wading boot could connect with the back part of my thigh. These things happen…
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