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Archive for February, 2011

How To Properly Tag a Permit

Tuesday, February 22nd, 2011

Costa Del Mar Permit Tagging Research Program permit tagging instructions

             It’s difficult to know exactly how to put a tag into a fish without having done it before. With the popularity of piercings these days, you’d think most people would have a good feel for how it’s done, yet popping a spaghetti tag along a spinal column is akin to picking the largest syringe in the lot for a cortisone injection—in other words, if you’re just a little off, there’s going to be a definitive knee-jerk reaction. 

            That being said, the only way to get good at tagging permit is to send a few fish off with some extra jewelry, and the best way is to avoid the learning curve that comes with trial and error and have someone who’s done it before walk you through the process. If the fish had a vote, I’m guessing there’d be a landslide for that option as well, which is why you’ll find the video at the end of this post.

            Below is the recommended technique for tagging permit using the applicator and tags distributed through the Bonefish and Tarpon Trust Costa Del Mar Permit Tagging Research Program. Keep in mind that there’s a reason you’re pausing in the middle of your fishing trip—one that’s important enough that it’ll even get the needle-shy anglers on board involved. The information from tagging and recapture of tagged permit will provide information on movement patterns and growth rates of the species, so it’s worth taking your time and doing it right, as opposed to needlessly injecting a tag that’s going to fall out and join the sands of time on the bottom of the Atlantic or Gulf.

            Once you get a few tags under your belt, the process will become second nature. Most taggers develop their own step-by-step process, and usually write the tag number down before inserting it into the tagging stick, because in the excitement of the moment it’s common to release a tagged permit only to find that you forgot to record the tag number. That leads to examining every tag closely to determine the missing tag number, which for anyone over 40 means the kind of squinting that leads to crows feet and your friends asking if you just finished watching a Clint Eastwood marathon. Also, you have to remove the fish from the water to read the number once the tag is inserted, and when you do that, the constant opening and closing of the fish’s mouth is it’s way of saying, “water, dude, I need w-a-t-e-r.”

            There are times when you can’t keep the fish in the water. To weigh the fish, you’ll have to remove it, and some of the larger permit can be difficult to hold onto at the side of the boat, particularly if you’re the one who just fought and laded the fish and have the jelly arms and cramped, claw hand that go along with the process. If that’s the case, have the information sheet and measuring tape out, tag number written down, tag in the applicator and hand scale ready, then rip through the process. If done efficiently, the fish should be back in the water in less than a minute with a story to tell the other fish about the ugly guy in the blue hat who gave it some new shoulder jewelry.   

The BTT Costa Del Mar Permit Tagging Research Program Tagging Kit          

            When you apply to help with the permit tagging program, you’ll receive a kit that includes: tags, a tag applicator, datasheet for recording tagging, a pencil, measuring tape and tagging instructions. Weighing the fish is optional, but it can provide additional growth information, so it helps to have a hand scale on board.

            The information below is provided to help with the tagging process.

Tagging a Permit 

  • It is best to have two people present when tagging permit to reduce time needed to tag and to reduce handling time. Some anglers and captains experienced in tagging are able to tag permit solo.
  • Have the tag inserted into the applicator and ready to go before landing the permit.
  • If possible, keep the permit in the water during the tagging process.
  • Measure the fish.
  • Use the tip of the tag and applicator to scrape away one or two scales. This provides easy entry of the tag.
  • Push the tag applicator into the fish with a swift motion.
  • Insert the tag far enough to allow the barb to become lodged in the bones (called pterygiophores) descending from the dorsal fin. Sometimes a slight “click” can be felt as the barb slides over a bone and locks behind it. Please be sure the barb on the tag is fully inserted into the bones.  A tag that is only in the meat of the fish will eventually fall out.
  • Pull back on the applicator to remove it from the fish. Give the tag a slight tug.  If set correctly, you should see a small section of dorsal musculature move on the other side of the dorsal fin.
  • Make sure you note the tag number!
  • Record the data on the enclosed data sheet

 

Tagging location

 

 Care and Storage of the Tags

The tags should not be subjected to heat (such as prolonged direct sunlight). Keep in a location protected from prolonged sun exposure and heat.

Care of the tag stick

The tip of the applicator should be kept sharp to a V point. Store the applicator so the point is protected to prevent bending or dulling the point.

Bonefish and Tarpon Trust–How to tag a permit 

We’re off to Kamchatka

Wednesday, February 16th, 2011

           There are no Starbucks on the open tundra of Kamchatka, which is why there’s 150 pounds of freeze-dried food being packed in boxes for the trip. While the option of eating salmon and other freshwater species on a daily basis is there, the thought of eating fish three times a day seems to leave a bad taste in our mouth. Not having a World Class chef in the mix doesn’t help, but as long as the coffee is warm and strong most of us could survive on a liquid diet—we’re from Seattle.

            There’s also the possibility that the local brown bear population could figure out that the little cellophane packages have tasty centers (which is better than them knowing the kayaks have them as well), and could raid the entire food stash in a single soiree. That would mean a diet of strictly fish along with side orders of another kind of fish, and for dessert…more fish.

            Along with the food are our kayaks (five in all) and more video and still camera equipment than the average reality television show, but it’s important to us that we be able to capture the moment in varied forms of media—so important that everyone is willing to hump the extra weight inside their yaks.

            Did I mention that we also plan to carry camping gear and personal clothing along? I know that in a pinch we only need two sets of clothing—one to wear during the daytime and one to wear while our daytime clothing is drying at night—yet none of us has ever gotten over the comfort-over-style factor, which explains the normal loads. Yet with the exception of the kayaks we’re still under the baggage weight limit, which hopefully means someone didn’t forget to pack their tent or that their baggage has ?ahs a tapeworm. There’s not enough vodka in all of Russia to make me want to sit through a shivering night on the open tundra with no cover. Then again, if you started counting stars, it’d be daylight before you got to Orion.

            The most daunting segment of our trip seems to be getting there. Just in case 33 hours of transit aren’t stressful enough, there’s the potential that when we do get to Russia, none of our flights, plans or arrangements will be honored or even acknowledged. Then there are the little things, like will the retired Soviet Military helicopters fall out of the sky? Or, How will we get all our gear from the International Airport to the Domestic Airport without having to crack open a trust fund? Oh, and none of the group speaks Russian.

10 Questions with Carl “Bumcast” McNeil

Wednesday, February 16th, 2011

Carl McNeil is your typical world traveler, international film maker and hardcore, passionate, quit work, sell-everything-to-go-fishing-somewhere-cool fly angler. Along with his wife Jeanie Ackley—who most people regard as the person who takes his passion and morphs it into enough profit to meet the bills—the duo are the brains behind On The Fly Productions which films and produces fly fishing related DVDs—many of which are instructional.

            The impetus behind the Cook Islands Expedition, Carl has traveled extensively throughout the South Pacific and knows the customs and the fisheries well. We caught up with Carl on a late February evening when he was tying flies and thinking about a new bonefish pattern that incorporates the hair of a child—in this case, the one sleeping right next to him.

Watery Rave: Why net bonefish? I can think of 700 or so other species that are easier to catch, taste considerably better and aren’t peppered with sharp, tiny bones.

McNeil: With regard to bonefish netting you have to keep in mind that this has been a traditional food source for generations. Fishing and harvesting from the lagoon and outside ocean is part of the way of life in the islands—and quite rightly so. After all, it’s their lagoon and who are we to dictate what is eaten and what is not? It’s simply none of our business.

            The harvest of bonefish has never been all that common. It’s difficult to do and extremely hard work, and only a couple of families have the knowledge of how to specifically target bones.

            Historically bones have been netted just before spawning on the full moon (on Aitutaki bonefish spawn year-round when the moon and tides are right), and only in very specific areas.  This fairly precise knowledge has been passed down from generation to generation and primarily only within one family—the Davey family—and this is the family we follow in our film.

            It’s important to note that Itu Davey and his family are no longer netting and haven’t for over a year. Itu has been instrumental in setting up new reserve areas and protected spawning grounds.

            I like to think that the wolf is now guarding the hen house.

Watery Rave:  I’ve eaten bonefish cakes in The Bahamas, and my recollection is of a fried fritter-type thing that pasted super fishy aftertaste to the roof of your mouth that remained there for about three days. How are they eaten on Aitutaki?

McNeil: Bonefish are usually eaten raw in a dish called ‘Ika Mata’—Mixed with lemon or lime juice, coconut milk and onions.  I’ve not eaten bonefish Ika Mata, but am a big fan of just about any other fish prepared this way—-it’s delicious!

 Watery Rave: Out of 2,000 inhabitants on the island, what made Itu stand out as someone who might be a good candidate to be a fishing guide and protector of the resource?

McNeil: Itu was the only possible candidate to protect the fishery and become a guide—no question. He is an extremely experienced bonefisherman and by far the most knowledgeable on the Island. His ability to spot and distinguish fish on the flats is nothing short of phenomenal.

            Just to give you an idea, Itu can spot fish with the naked eye better than any man can, and when we slapped a pair of Costa’s on his face, I swear he had X-ray vision.

            He’s been poling a flats boat since he was a very young boy, so the boatmanship side of the business was just second nature. All up, we knew we’d all be onto a winner if we could take the most effective bonefisherman on the Island and help him become a guide. 

Watery Rave: Describe Aitutaki, the food and the culture.

McNeil: Sit back, close your eyes and imagine your perfect island paradise, now multiply it by 100,000. I’m talking white sandy beaches, swaying coconut palms, an azure blue lagoon and the heady fragrance of frangipani hanging in the air. Now add beautiful, friendly locals, throw in a big bonefish or two and wash it all down with a Pina Colada—that’s Aitutaki. Perfect.

Watery Rave: Even a rock sticking up in the middle of the ocean has more than one fish species around it. What else is there to fish for on Aitutaki?

McNeil: The Central Lagoon is teaming with all the types of fish you’d expect from a tropical island. If bonefish aren’t your bag, the lagoon also plays host to some very big giant trevallys (think 50lb+) and half a dozen other trevally species.  

            Then there’s milkfish of unbelievable proportions that are seen regularly, and if you’re into gear fishing on the outside of the reef you’ll find tuna, wahoo, mahi mahi  and all manner of toothy critters. 

Watery Rave: How is the flight from New Zealand to a remote South Pacific island?

McNeil: As far as trips go, getting to Aitutaki requires a few fairly straightforward plane flights—the last in which resembles a flying pencil.  

            What does make things interesting is wrangling over 200kgs of film equipment and paying a king’s ransom (in excess) for the privilege. It took a full day and three flights to ferry our gear on the last leg of the journey.

            Fourteen pieces of luggage equates to just over 3 trolleys piled high—and all this while reigning in a rambunctious 3-year-old…and we all know how much fun it is to fly these days.

Watery Rave: The locals make a form of home brew by fermenting oranges for several days. They call it bush beer, and it’s supposed to be a stretch from the microbrews we find in the states. Have you tried the bush beer?

McNeil: Personally I’d highly recommend laying off any local brew just about anywhere in the Pacific. 

            A few years ago on Kiribas (Christmas Island) a visiting angler bribed the locals for a bottle or two of the local fire water called Totti.  They reluctantly obliged. 

            Now Totti is a highly suspect brew distilled from the sap of freshly cut palm leaves.  The sap is collected in old bottles placed under the dripping wounds on the tree. After a week or so, it’s done its thing and is ready to drink.

            The problem is fresh palm sap is irresistible to the totti beetle—a small biting bug. Newbies learn about totti beetles pretty quickly—these are the ones that when slapped on an arm or leg squish out an acidic substance akin to battery acid.  It burns baby, really burns—honestly.

            Anyhow, during the fermentation of the totti juice a few bugs inevitably fall into the bottles, they and their battery acid are fermented along with the juice. Then, of course, someone takes a guzzle.  It burns on the way down, and apparently—burns on the way out too—-quite badly in fact.

            So no, I stay off the bush booze and drink bourbon and watered down cola like most of the locals. Hey, it’s not nearly as exciting, but at least nothing drops off when you have to pee.

Watery Rave: What do the bonefish of Aitutaki eat—food and fly-wise?

McNeil: When you’re a 10 pound bonefish you get to eat whatever you like. 

           Bigger fish in deeper water take baitfish imitations and larger crabs in addition to all the usual bonefish fare. A 2/0 Clouser Deep Minnow often does the trick there.  

            Right up on the flats, shrimp, small crabs and sand-worms are on the menu. Crazy Charlies and Gotchas in size 2 are the way to go here—just as would be expected on any bonefish flat just about anywhere in the world.  

            We did come up with a pretty specific pattern…The Crazy Itu—but you’ll have to watch the film to see it, or make a visit.

Watery Rave: How does one come up with the idea for the bonefish cam?

McNeil: I’m not sure how much I should give much away about BoneCam—it’s a closely guarded secret—a piece of high-tech gadgetry dreamt up over too many late night drinks and engineered in my workshop. Basically it’s a miniature Hi-Def camera in a waterproof housing. The camera is then mounted on a buoyancy-compensated fish-friendly harness and attached to a tracking device so that the camera can be retrieved later.

            The results we got absolutely floored us—to be honest I never thought it would work. After seeing the results, we now have a few more tricks in store for BoneCam.

Watery Rave:  Is the lagoon on Aitutaki wadeable, and if so are there any sharks that might opt for penance by taking a leg or calf?

McNeil: The Lagoon is perfectly wadable and almost munchy-free. Personally I’ve never seen a shark in there, and there are very few who have. The occasional reefy (reef shark) might get in over the coral, but they’re the Labradors of the shark world and nothing to worry about.

            Then again, I’d recommend footwear in most places around the lagoon on the off chance you might meet up with a stonefish, but again it’s pretty uncommon.

Big Jumpers, Bass. Another vintage film classic from the IGFA.

Wednesday, February 9th, 2011

Summertime and the 4th of July just seem like the right time of year to talk about bass fishing, doesn’t it? We went digging in the IGFA film vaults again for something bass-centric and came across a little film of two guys fishing for smallmouth bass in Lake St. Clair in Michigan. What’s the trouble Clyde? Talk about the good ole days…

Big Jumpers Bass: Vintage IGFA Video from Costa Sunglasses on Vimeo.

Eeeehaaa…Hitting the Dusty Trail

Wednesday, February 9th, 2011

Mexico, Central America

 THE STORY:

The plan is simple: bridge the language gap, convince the Federales that you’re not trying to smuggle cooking oil into the country to corner the market on cheap fish tacos and find out if everything you read about remote areas to fish on the Internet are true. At the same time, spend little money, sponge off the local delicacies and see if you can kill stomach cramps with a combination of tequila and lack of sleep.

 Join four fish bums with two first names as they cover 8,000 miles of Mexican dirt in a diesel pick-up converted to run on cooking oil while soaking flies at every opportunity. Trying their best to avoid break-ins, break-downs, break-ups and broken rods, the angling quartet cuts their own path through some of Mexico’s most rugged terrain in hopes of finding out-of-the-way locations—with fish, and escaping with captured memories.

 Travel via extreme low-budget plan down the Baja peninsula, across the Sea of Cortez, from West Coast to East and finally to the jungles of the Yucatan as they ride the vegetable oil-filled exhaust fine line between entertainment and extreme parking lot camping. With a pair of Gheenoes on the roof, a fresh set of radials and pocketful of pesos, you’ll get a glimpse of the preplanned post college road trip where digital SLRs and camera phones go cinematic.

 There’s a reason everything in Mexico has a hide thick enough to make a pair of boots out of–from marlin to minnows, desert racing to dead-stop traffic in a town tortured by drug gang violence, join the hunt for food, fun and a cure to Montezuma’s Revenge, proof that what doesn’t kill you only makes you avoid it the second time around. Or not. Then again, who can pass up a roadside taco stand?

 THE ADVENTURE:

Known for its coastal resorts on the Pacific Ocean and Caribbean Sea, Mexico is a thin man in a big hat—a coin toss of whether you get to sip Margaritas in the shade or spend the day hungry. While the resorts cater comfort and style, the residents struggle to eke out a life in country more fit for to accommodate a glia monster than a fish head.

 When you travel by road (be it dirt or paved) the next campsite can be just around the corner whether you like it or not, and at any time banditos can take a liking to your vehicle/home or decide to test the waters of EBay with your fly tackle. To make it home you have to keep moving, or the dust and desert will surround and overtake you, making you just another roadside casualty in the vehicular ancient burial ground.   

 Along with some of the poorest slums in Central America are also the most pristine waters—places where lobster can be plucked from the tide pools and fish fight over flies. Mexico is a contrast of extremes (beauty and pain), and the road you end up traveling may not be by choice, but as with anywhere that human interaction hasn’t overtaken, once you get there, paradise and unspoiled fishing are right at your feet.

THE PLAYERS:

Motiv Fishing: The production company that will make this exodus into a film and 20 minute (or less) stokefest segment you can view during the 2011 Drake Magazine Fly Fishing Film Tour. Shot exclusively with digital SLR cameras and video phones, you get technology and short term memory loss in the same frame.

 Jay Johnson: A cross between Bluto from Animal House and the classic overachiever fisherman, Johnson stumbles through life like Fred Flintstone in flip flops but has a heart of gold and a liver of cast iron. The head of the herd, he gets to sleep indoors.

 Brian Jill: Introspective, silent and brooding, much like a serial killer, Jill has managed to get paid to go fishing even if it requires baking like a potato in a Dutch Oven to get there. Never one to complain, you won’t know Jill is sick until his eyes turn yellow.   

 Chris Owens: A sketchy obsessive compulsive, Owens is the kid who liked to run the stick across the lion’s cage, even knowing that sooner or later the lion was going to reach through those bars and take a swing. He fishes like he lives life, dangling over a cliff and waving his arms.

 Thad Robison: The voice of reason, direction and non-life threatening wildlife interaction, Robison is the guy you want to have behind the wheel when the whip comes down and the brakes fail. He also has an aversion to public toilets.

Fighting for a fishery

Friday, February 4th, 2011

San Pedro, Ambergris Caye, Belize—

THE STORY:

Fish have always been the lifeblood of the local villages. Whether caught commercially and sold in the markets or with a handline at the end of a dock, fish are the staple of family meals, the backbone of a commercial and recreational fishing economy and the heart of an environment nestled at the end of a coral sand beach. Unfortunately, everyone wants their share of the fish—the locals for food, the fishermen (recreational and commercial) for jobs and the real estate developers for profit.

 Even the mile-by-half mile town of San Pedro isn’t safe from foreign investment and the kind of greed that operates behind closed doors. The same tourism that supports the fishing guides has made the island attractive to developers and investors looking to replace the mangrove estuaries with large hotels and seawalled canals.

 Every piece of Ambergris Island is an individual part of the part of the environmental puzzle that produces a lifestyle in harmony with the water and land. From fish like permit that drive tourism to the turtle grass that harbors the schoolmaster snapper that nourish the children, the Belizean way of life is being remolded and reshaped. But how far can the inhabitants of San Perdo be stretched before they break?   

 

 THE ADVENTURE:

The Belize island of Ambergris Caye hangs just below the jungles on the southern tip of  the Yucatan Peninsula like a Mexican afterthought. Surrounded by the tropical waters of the Caribbean Sea, the town of San Pedro on the southern end of Ambergris Caye, Belize is a fisherman’s paradise—As long as you’re okay with a sun that beats on your back like a widow clubbing a rug.

 In San Pedro, the days go by best lying in a hammock among the palms adjacent to the turquoise waters and the most popular modes of transportation are bicycles, horses and bare feet. Here the Belizeans live in harmony with each other and with the water, and the next meal is at the end of the nearest dock.

 With pastel houses and low-storied hotels, San Pedro is the epitome of the low budget Central American travel destination where fish tacos and flip flops are equally reveled and the closest thing to a chain restaurant is Billy’s Grocery Store which carries both Coke and Pepsi . It’s also home to four lagoon systems, some of the best flats fishing in Central America and a 180 mile long barrier reef (the second largest in the world.

 Along the 36 mile Ambergris Caye (the largest island in Belize) are some of the most pristine saltwater flats in the world, and once you’re outside of San Pedro, it’s you, your boat and an endless horizon of fishing opportunity. On a good day, you might make 100 casts at fish, and on a bad day you oversleep from one (or five) too many Belikin’s and have to listen to your buddies tell their fish stores.

 It’s an easy, happy lifestyle based on friends, family, community and a new batch of tourists daily, but the same commodity that drives the economy of this island threatens to take it away. Come spend some time with Lincoln and Abbie as they pole the flats and fight the evil side of a tourism-based economy.

  THE PLAYERS:

Lincoln Westby:

When Lincoln Westby was a kid, you could stop him in the street and a pat search would divulge one pocket holding a handline while the other was filled with bait. Lincoln’s aversion to shoes is only surpassed by his passion for the water: snorkeling, lobster diving and most of importantly, fishing. But that’s the lifestyle for the island’s top fishing guide and mentor—A man who preaches protection of the environment, the development of fishing skills and the merits of fish chowder—a local legend who built his own island retreat one sand bag at a time.   

 Abbie Marin:

As a young fishing guide Abbie Marin is learning the economics of a tourism-based economy—Fish 100 days a year, and you get to live in a home with a cement floor; fish 150 days a year and you own a boat with a new motor; and fish 200 or more days a year and you’re a businessman. With a family to support and a passion for permit, Abbie promotes fly fishing as the way of the new generation of job opportunities on this island nation.

 Permit—pissyus flyeaterus

 Bonefish—disappearus inblisteringrunus

 Tarpon—Jumpusinthemangroveus breakoffus