WRITING ON THE FLY
By GEORGE LISET

    Fishing season is coming to a close on the rivers, except those with special regulations. I had a few hours on a warmer than usual overcast day, so I decided to try my luck and see if I could catch a Landlocked Salmon. I headed up to a couple of my favorite spots around Lake Winnipesaukee. I had been watching some videos on YouTube of some anglers fishing for Salmon on the Salmon River in upstate New York.

    If you need a few giggles and want to see combat fishing at its finest, you need to check it out. Anglers are shoulder to shoulder in some spots. When an angler does hook up with a Salmon, the show begins. The Salmon heads down river doing a tail dance while the angler follows, dodging fly lines and other obstacles on and in the river. It is comparable to Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride at Disney.

    Every once in a while, two anglers will be into fish and their lines get crossed and tangled. This usually leads to disappointment for someone. The disappointment is even more heartbreaking because spawning Salmon are called “Fish of a Thousand Casts.” They are not interested in food when they are spawning and will not bite unless they see the fly as a predator trying to eat their eggs.  That’s one theory.

    I have had friends that have gone out to fish the Salmon River for a week and not get a bite. What makes this even more frustrating is that the Salmon are swimming right by you, sometimes between your legs, and you can’t get them to bite. This leads to “Salmon Madness’. Some anglers lose their mind and start to try and snag the fish with their fly. It seems the more your trip costs, the more the madness.

    On this day I only have to share the river with a couple other fly fishers. The word on the river is that the Salmon are taking nymphs, small bead heads on size eighteen and twenty hooks. I have had most of my luck casting size sixteen orange or olive wooly buggers. Today I will go with the orange. I haven’t seen too much activity. I see the sporadic spawning boil on top of the water or the occasional torpedo swim by, but the activity is slow.

    I did have a first while I was fishing. I was in the river casting down stream when my back cast went awry. I look back and coming up behind me about ten feet above the water was a Great Blue Heron. With its wings spread out it looked like a jumbo 747 airliner. Apparently I had cast over the bird and it flew into my line. Fortunately no damage was done, either to the bird or my line!!!

     Every once in a while another angler will stroll by asking if I have had any luck. I reply that I haven’t today. He mentions that someone had caught one on a nymph up river a little earlier, but other than that, no one seems to be catching anything. It is still early I tell myself as I continue casting. Then I got a tug on my line and I set the hook. My heart starts pounding as I reel the fish in.

    I grab my net and scoop the fish. As I stare into the net, I’m puzzled. I am expecting a Salmon and looking at a Yellow Perch. It is the same feeling you get when you go out to dinner with friends and have the impression you’re going out for steaks and end up at a sushi bar. In the fly fishers hierarchy of fish, there are the salmon and trout at the top, and then down toward the bottom are your pan fish, such as sunfish, bluegills and perch.

    Now don’t get me wrong. I love fishing for panfish on a light fly rod, but not when I’m fishing for salmon and trout. I put the little guy back and continued fishing. A few minutes later I caught another perch. I fished for a little while longer and had to call it a day. On my way out I passed another fisher who inquired as to my success.

    I mentioned that I caught something, but not what I wanted. He asked if I had caught a Yellow Perch. I laughed and said I had. He welcomed me to the Yellow Perch club. I said: “You’re not going to make me the president are you?”

 George Liset of Dover is an award-winning outdoor writer and avid fly fisherman who shares insights of his time on the water exploring New Hampshire streams and rivers as well of those around New England. George is a graduate of Wheaton College, Illinois, and the University of New Hampshire. His column Writing on the Fly has been honored by the New England Press Association and the New Hampshire Press Association.