The chores can wait

[Zig]

My home is in shambles. There are window frames in various stages of paint, vehicles that are in desperate need of a wash and polish, and I believe I overheard my wife talking to the local farmer about renting sheep. I can only presume that means she thinks the grass is too high……..again.
Anyone with any lick of common sense would start working to alleviate this list of priorities. I decided to go fishing.
Who wouldn’t rather spend an hour by the water with a fishing rod in hand rather then a paint brush? GZ saw no problem with my decision to forgo chores for an hour or so………..of course he is 6.
At any rate, we hit the IWLA pond again this week. GZ was my guinea pig, and since he started blowing his mouth off about catching more fish then me on a previous trip this summer, I made certain he was rigged with something I figured wasn’t going to work.
I have spent a few trips here recently only to watch fish surface feeding the last few minutes of light. Each time I was punishing myself for not having a different tool to work with. This time I had a fly rod along.
I kept GZ rigged with a slip float to suspend a 1/64oz. jighead tipped with our go to Honey Worm. I was handling a 5 weight fly rod matched with a floating line, 12ft leader and 2ft. of 1lb. tippet. On the end of the tippet material was a #18 dry fly. I’m not really certain what it is, but it was the closest thing I had to the bugs that were the presumed target of the fish that seemed to enjoy the art of flight.

This first in a pair of trips was somewhat uneventful – not because of the lack of action, but simply because it had become less challenging since this pattern developed. I needed something more intellectually stimulating.
GZ on the other hand started the whining.
I switched him to a micro twister tail.
He managed to experience line twist the likes of a thrill ride blueprint.
I switched him to a heavier twister tail.
He said he was cold.
I know he was bored out of his mind, and quite perturbed I was having a constant flow of action.
A few minutes of humbling his earlier attitude, of which I found quite enjoyable, I offered to let him control the fly rod.

It was getting dark, and I was beginning to have a hard time seeing the minute spot of a fly on the shadowed water, but he did manage to hook-up.

One thing perplexed me during this trip. While I had no reason to experiment with different flies, I did notice differences in the surface activity. There seemed to be three(3) distinctive feedings going on.
There was the fish that came completely out of the water. These were easily identified as being bluegill.
There were other fish that made a much larger “splash”, but never cleared the water.
Then there was the occasional dimple. This take reminded you more of a single raindrop hitting the water. There was no splash, no audible slurping sound, just a dimple; a subtle, single ring appearing in the water.
I wanted answers to my question: What was making those other signs? Were the larger ‘gills feeding differently? Why haven’t I seen any bass this year?

The next evening found me once again avoiding the necessary and standing by the water, flyrod in hand. This time I was ready to experiment. The mind was geared to accept failure as a result of finding answers.
The small dry fly was switched to a #6 dry in hopes of attracting the “other” feeding fish. The first of many answers came on my second landing.
The light touchdown of the fly was immediately disturbed by a violent explosion of water. Not only did I begin putting the pieces together, but I also landed the first of many largemouth bass for the evening. They weren’t anything spectacular – not even enough to turn the camera on, but the 10-12” fish made me smile non-the-less.
The rest of the evening was filled with sudden, violent strikes (bass) and the ever popular aerial strikes of the bluegill. It seemed as if the larger fly was attracting larger ‘gills then the previous evening.

Those single dimples began to show up again. Try as I might, I just couldn’t get a fish to, at the very least, drift up to take a look at my offering. I didn’t even care if they took it or not – I just wanted to see what type of fish was showing so little of itself.
As I saw a dimple, I would place the fly within a 2” circle around it……………..to no avail. Either a largemouth or a bluegill would decide to interrupt my plans. It was almost as if the game was being played on me.
Darkness wasted no time taking away the final five minutes of my natural light left. The final cast of the evening was placed gently into an area of water that had no recent signs of activity. I had to keep every ounce of focus and attention to the spot where I saw the fly land, as I could just barely make out it’s location on the water.

Then it just disappeared.

There was no splash. There was no noise. It just went under as if a vacuum had been turned on under it. This was it! The strike I had been looking for!
I gently but swiftly raised the rod to sink the hook into the unknown creature on the opposite end of my line.
The initial weight of the fish turned my excitement into letdown.
“It’s just a bass” I thought to myself.
But while it held the same resistance of all the largemouth previously caught this evening, it acted differently. I almost thought I felt a slow pulsing headshake………….then it made the initial horizontal dash of a bluegill.
Yet another feeling of remorse of it being nothing more then a decent bluegill.
Don’t get me wrong, I love every bluegill I tussle with – I just wanted to see something new; something that fulfilled my desire that the signs I was reading were indeed different fish.
This final fish of the evening, didn’t show it’s true identity until it reached the shallow shoreline water.

I smiled the whole way home.

[Zig]

Thanks!

The water clarity in that picture surprised me. I'll make it a point to get a Secchi reading next time I'm there, but it will more then likely be in single digit inches then feet. This pond has been extremely stained since grass carp were introduced to keep the weeds in check. I'm not even certain there are any weedbeds left anymore......................

[Alex G.]

outstanding read and love the pics!

[David Merical]

Great story & pictures, Zig!

[Bruce Condello]

Fun story. Mr. Crappie decided to pay you a visit, eh? :-) That water clarity is astounding. Is that a common thing in your area?