Fly Fishing in Lakes and Ponds

Contents

Acknowledgments

Introduction

Limnology

Part I - Getting Ready

Tackle and Special Casts

Getting Afloat

Retrieves

Part II - Finding Fish

Overview

Structure

The Wind and Other Currents

Stillwater Food-forms

Part III - Tactics and Flies

Visual Tactics

Chironomid Tactics

Searching Tactics

Night Fishing

Flies

Reeling Up

Diet Studies

Sources

Annotated Bibliography and References

About the Author

Fly Fishing

in

Lakes and Ponds

Paul C. Marriner

Gales End Press

Copyright © 2015 by Paul C. Marriner

ISBN 978-0-9733383-9-3

Published by:

Gale’s End Press

Mahone Bay, NS B0J 2E0

Canada

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this eBook or portions thereof in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review, without permission in writing from the publisher. All inquiries should be addressed to Gale’s End Press,

Illustrations by Don Pentz

Includes bibliographical references.

Acknowledgments

Coincident with a long fly-fishing career is a large group of friends, professional guides and acquaintances, who have contributed to my enjoyment of, and learning about, stillwaters; to all these I extend thanks. To my most frequent stillwater partner, Paul MacDonald, and my son James (not as often as I would like), a special thanks for their companionship and joint learning experiences. Don Pentz of Pentz, Nova Scotia, created the illustrations and even managed to make sense of my cartoon notions. His skill and patience are greatly appreciated.

Email makes it possible to correspond with people around the world. While I have never met many of the following, they have graciously answered my queries about interesting individual experiences, regions that I have yet to fish, scientific data, and in some cases sent me useful fly patterns. Should I have missed someone (quite likely considering my memory and filing system), I apologize, it certainly wasn’t intentional. Some names appear within the text as appropriate, but all are gathered here for a collective thank you: Jason Garrett (Tasmania), Colin MacPherson (England), Denis Goulding (Ireland), Roger Whitcomb (VT), Don MacLean (NS), Gary Nash (South Africa), Joyce Westphal (UT), Peter Hayes (Tasmania), Ian Mitchell (Australia), John Clarke (NB), Cameron MacGinnis (ON), Paul Slaney (Wales), Gerald Ichikawa (CA), Rob Blomquist (WA), Brett Kent (MD), Bud Smithers (BC), Erik Poole (BC), Scott Daskiewich (NY), John Beaven (BC), Wally Lutz (AB), Paul Vekemans (Belgium), Peter Marrow (Scotland), Philip White (England), Sean Clancy (NF), Alex Nimmo-Smith (MD), Peter Rainbird (England), Dave Wilson (CA), Jon Bisset (BC), Tom Davenport (UT), Jan Spencer (Tasmania), Jon Marshall (England), John Bessel (Tasmania), Dean Endress (CA), Ian James (ON), Dave Shipman (England), Daniel Josephson (NY), Donna Giberson (PEI), Orlando Sarnelle (MI), Andrew Taylor (Tasmania), Rick Stoffels (NZ).

Except as indicated, all images are from my camera. Thanks for permission to use the others are due, Jason Garrett, Peter Hayes (Hayes Guiding Team), Jim Wheeler (Spring Creek Fly Fishing Prams), Old Town, and the Yakima Bait company.

Over time, I have been lucky enough to fish stillwaters with a number of superb guides, many of whom are mentioned in the text. Ken Orr of Tasmania deserves special mention. It was Ken who, during a two-week period, introduced me to a variety of visual stalking methods that changed my attitudes toward stillwater fly-fishing. Another debt of gratitude is owed to the several tourism authorities that have helped make it possible for me to experience a wide variety of stillwater venues. In particular, those of: Ireland, Norway, New Zealand, Wyoming, New Brunswick, Prince Edward Island, Newfoundland & Labrador, Manitoba, Saskatchewan, and British Columbia. Participating lodges or similar entities are mentioned in the text.

Finally, several friends and correspondents were kind enough to read portions or all of the original manuscript and make helpful suggestions. Of course I am fully responsible for the contents. This group includes Brian Chan, Scott Daskiewich, Brett Kent, Denis Goulding, Paul MacDonald, Hans Weilenmann, and Roger Whitcomb.

Introduction

I have a problem," read the subject line of the email from Sweden. The gist of the message was <> I did, and passed along a strategy designed to succeed in precisely that situation. Which is why I wrote this book—to provide a source of stillwater tactics from around the world. Can a sinking-line tactic developed in New Zealand catch problem trout in Sweden? Can nymphing techniques developed in North America land more trout in the United Kingdom? Can centuries old Scottish drifting-boat styles be effectively applied in North America? The answer to these and other similar questions is­—very likely, but in any event certainly worth a try. So my goal is to provide the experienced stream fisher with the tools to switch venues successfully, and haunters of stillwaters new possibilities, whichever continent they call home.

We’d be interested in having some articles written about fly-fishing lakes other than Taupo, said the New Zealand tourism representative in the late 1980’s. My enthusiasm for another visit to that great trout country was tempered somewhat by the nature of the assignment . After all, it meant being back in the land of crystal-clear streams harbouring giant browns and rainbows but relegated to hunting for trout in stillwaters.

Any reservations soon disappeared; not only did I have the opportunity to hunt trophy trout in virtual solitude, surrounded by magnificent scenery, and with personable, knowledgeable, guides, but the experience cemented my changing view of what John Gierach once called, featureless discs. No longer would stillwaters play second fiddle to streams. And although fly-fishing stillwaters has become popular in some previously ignored areas, it remains true that it’s often easier to find uncrowded fishing for sizable trout away from running water. Finally, for those of us living with billions of biting bugs during the bloom of the fishing season, medium to large stillwaters generally offer sanctuary.

During the 1970’s I watched a spy movie in which a character related his agency’s motto; proper planning prevents poor performance, the five p’s. Trite I know, but every time I forget it—still too often, usually close to home—I generally pay. Proper planning goes beyond having the necessary tackle and equipment, it includes researching your destination. This may be as simple as checking your diary for a trip to your local lake, or as detailed as doing a web search for articles on your destination and checking recent weather data. Another hoary cliché from my army days says it all; time spent in reconnaissance is never wasted. Naturally, one can short-circuit this process by hiring a knowledgeable local guide, an ever-increasing possibility in many areas featuring high-quality stillwaters.

While I’m prepared to use virtually any legal fly-fishing method to catch fish in stillwaters, two of the many highlighted herein are my favourites. That visual stalking is the first will come as no surprise. The second, original loch style, will be a stranger to most North Americans. Little compares with the enjoyment of being out in a boat with a skilled Irish boatman or Scottish ghillie, drifting along in a good breeze, casting a short line and working one’s flies near and on the surface. True, a personable ghillie is often the key to maximum enjoyment, but you can get most of the way there with the right equipment and a simpatico amigo.

Regarding companions, fishing a stillwater alone is a poor tactic unless solitude is why you are there. It’s clear that a lake’s surface hides many angling sins, of both omission and commission. When alone, it’s far too easy to excuse failure by assuming the trout weren’t biting. However, when another angler within sight is regularly releasing fish, this excuse is unconvincing. Moreover, at least when used intelligently, two heads are always better than one.

Many of my most exciting fly-fishing moments have been on stillwaters. From the tarns of Tasmania to arctic tundra lakes, from the lochs of Scotland to Wyoming ponds, from urban reservoirs to wilderness beaver floods, I have cast to a score of species. Regardless, trout remain my favourite quarry and occupy 90% of the material to follow. Vast differences exist within the universe of trout waters, differences that demand flexibility of tackle and tactics for success. For example, some effective techniques for heavily-stocked, food-rich, reservoirs will do poorly on wild-trout lakes, be they low-productivity waters with an abundance of small trout or those with a limited population of large ones.

As for high mountain lakes, my toes are still dry; so it will come as no surprise that I have yet to catch a golden trout. Pack horses, goats, or llamas aren’t in my future, and helicopters are way beyond my budget. I suspect the applicable techniques I describe will serve you well among the peaks, but if this is the type of country you frequent Google is your friend.

I have caught fish with virtually every technique covered herein. That’s not a claim of extraordinary expertise, just a result of being old enough and fortunate enough to have fished hundreds of stillwaters scattered across three continents. The upside of this wanderlust is broad experience; the downside is a lack of regular contact with a few lakes. As a result, I have limited or no personal experience with some hatches or foodforms. Because they are important I have relied on some material from trusted sources, but more often on information from experienced friends and correspondents or superb guides who have willingly shared their knowledge. Hopefully I have been as diligent as intended in acknowledging sources.

Competition is an anathema to many long-rodders and I attempt no conversions herein. Nonetheless, as is true for most sports, competition stimulates rapid development of equipment and tactics. Competitive pressure steepened my learning curve enormously and so I make no apology for the number of tournament references to follow. While it’s true that many competition constraints are artificial, nonetheless they result in tactical adjustments that are applicable elsewhere.

The key to successful angling of any stripe can be simply stated: find feeding fish and feed them. So what follows is roughly divided into these two parts. I am a confirmed presentationist, believing that if something that looks and acts like food is presented to a feeding fish, one’s chances are good. Thus, when it comes to fly patterns I am generally more interested in how they act than precisely what they imitate. So use the information herein in good health, and with that ever-present factor in fishing, a little luck, it should put you into more stillwater fish.

Note About Units

Although living in a now-officially-metric country, I was educated in the English system of measurement and still think that way. Thus, the text gives English measurements first. Moreover, certain approximations such as a yard, a foot, or an inch, are not intended to be precise. To emphasize the approximate nature of these measurements I adopted a convention used by others; they are spelled out and no conversion is given. For readers completely unfamiliar with the English system, here are some approximate physical equivalents: an inch is the distance between the second and third knuckle; a foot between elbow and wrist; a yard between the centre of the chest and tips of the fingers with the arm outstretched. These distances aren’t arbitrary; for example, the latter is how I measure leader lengths and distances between droppers.

Limnology

According to Webster, limnology is the science of the biological and other phenomena of fresh water, especially of ponds and lakes. Assuming a healthy population of fish, much of this body of knowledge has no direct application to fly-fishing success. However, some has, besides we need to establish a glossary of terms used elsewhere. One general comment concerns the word lake itself. In Scotland it’s a loch, in Wales a lynn, and in Ireland a lough. I use these names where appropriate.

WHAT IS A STILLWATER?

For brevity I use stillwater(s) in the text rather than lakes and ponds. A stillwater is called a lake when it’s large enough to have waves that create a wave-swept zone, otherwise it’s a pond. Newfoundlanders, going their own way as they often do, call many of their island lakes ponds.

LAKE CLASSIFICATION

One lake classification with which many readers will be familiar is trophic status. Lakes are oligotrophic, mesotrophic, or eutrophic, depending on nutrient level. Water clarity is an indication of trophic status.

Oligotrophic

Oligotrophic lakes have low nutrient levels, are often cold and deep and feature close to 100% oxygen saturation. The characteristic clear water results from the lack of nutrients. Many northern glacial lakes are oligotrophic, including some which are also quite shallow. Cold temperatures and high oxygen content mean that they often support salmonid populations. Exceptions include those killed by acid precipitation—trout do not flourish in stillwaters with a pH below 5.0.

Eutrophic

Eutrophic lakes have high nutrient levels, are usually shallow and warm and generally suffer from low oxygen content particularly in the deepest parts. High nutrient levels create cloudy water. Many man-made ponds at low altitudes fit into this category and will normally support only species like carp that tolerate low oxygen levels.

Mesotrophic

It’s likely that most of the world’s lakes are mesotrophic, meaning that they are moderately enriched and not very deep, and can support a variety of fish species.

While these are the generally accepted definitions and characteristics, trout anglers will know that they don’t always apply. Some of our best trout fisheries are eutrophic lakes with cold water sources or ones that are located at a high enough altitude to stay cool. Within this group are stillwaters that need oxygen supplied artificially. Of these, some need oxygen to prevent winterkill, while others need it in summer as well. Many of these eutrophic lakes are so rich that they suffer mightily from algae blooms during the hottest months.

GEOLOGICAL CLASSIFICATION

Another way to deal with lakes relates to their origin, with one text in my library listing twenty-eight types; interesting stuff but of little practical use. One exception is when knowing how a stillwater was formed leads to searching out specific fish-holding structure like an old river bed in an impoundment. One estimate suggests that more than two-thirds of all lakes in the northern latitudes are glacial in origin, but as the local geography usually determines their trophic status such a description is of little help. Some types of stillwaters referred to later may be unfamiliar and so their descriptions follow.

(Precambrian) Shield Lakes

The Precambrian Shield is a vast horseshoe-shaped area around Hudson Bay covering eastern and central Canada, and a small part of the northern United States. Some 1.9 million square miles, very nearly half of Canada’s total area, is occupied by the Shield. The rocks contain large areas of granite and the lakes gouged out of the Shield by glaciation are numerous, often long and narrow, and oriented in the direction of the glacier’s retreat. Many of these lakes are oligotrophic and support salmonids. Another glacial remnant are kettle lakes. Kettle lakes were formed when large blocks of glacial ice melted into relatively shallow spring-fed depressions. Because the surrounding glacial debris (moraine) is often rich in pH-boosting minerals, these lakes support abundant fish populations. They are found scattered throughout the Shield, including easily accessible areas in central Canada and across adjacent US states. In other parts of the world these lakes are sometimes called tarns. Tens of thousands of kettle lakes are found in the far north but they are of little interest to fly-fishers.

A New Brunswick bogan - the brook enters just to the left of center, the junction with the river is at the bottom left, and anglers can be seen (faintly!) center right.

Bogan

A bogan is a stillwater formed by a cold-water stream in the interval (or flood plain) of a large river or an inlet stream removed from the general shoreline of a lake. The size is variable depending on the distance between the stream mouth and the main river or lake, but all those I have encountered would be considered ponds. When associated with rivers, water from the bogan usually enters the main river over a shallow bar. In summer, bogans are generally colder than the main river or lake, and often offer shelter to trout.

Although not called bogans, a similar coastal phenomenon produces small freshwater ponds, often behind beaches. Just as with bogans, the inlets and outlets are generally small, however if the pond is large enough it may support a resident trout population (some are stocked) or be visited by anadromous species.

Pothole Lakes

One area where anglers cross swords with scientists is in the definition of pothole lake. The limnologists consider these to be lakes created by fluvial (i.e., river) forces. However, when most of us speak of pothole lakes, we mean small ponds, usually on the prairies, created naturally (much like kettle lakes but rarely as deep) or artificially in local depressions and supplied by springs. What the scientists refer to as a pothole, I generally call a river stillwater.

Angler changing flies on a rainbow-stocked Saskatchewan pothole.

Tarn

Tarn is defined in the dictionary as a high mountain lake. However, at least in my experience, the word is also often used to describe a medium- sized, shallow, high-plateau lake, usually mesotrophic. In most ways they resemble a prairie pothole, just larger and higher in elevation.

A picturesque dictionary tarn in British Columbia.

BIOLOGICAL ZONES

Scientists divide lakes into zones related to biological activity. The commonly used terms are littoral, sub-littoral, and pelagic. Littoral and sub-littoral zones are defined as those portions of the lake in which plants grow. One authority suggests that the littoral zone includes that area where plants emerge above the surface or float on it, and the sub-littoral zone is that area where only fully-submerged plants occur. Hereafter, unless separation is necessary for clarity, the two are combined and referred to as the littoral zone. I believe it’s impossible to overemphasize the importance of the littoral zone to fly-fishers. In general this is where the useful action is found. Plant life in the littoral zone provides food and shelter to many insects and small fish, the food-forms of larger fish.

Unfortunately, at least from the classification point of view, some stillwaters, or areas of others, do not divide neatly into these zones. These are lakes where the nature of the benthos (bottom) or chemical composition inhibits plant growth even though there is sufficient light. Examples are gravel, marl, or clay bottoms and stillwaters with very low nutrient levels. Like the profundal zone described below, this doesn’t mean such areas are devoid of food-forms. So, to avoid pointless verbiage in later chapters, I include these shallow regions in the littoral zone.

The pelagic zone is the open-water area of a lake above depths that are too deep for plant growth. It’s further subdivided into photic and aphotic zones. The photic zone extends from the lake surface to a depth where incident light has been reduced to 1% of its surface value, below that is the aphotic zone. Another phrase used to describe the deep region of a lake that is devoid of plant life is the profundal zone. Note, however, that while barren of plants the profundal zone is not devoid of life. Under certain circumstances the profundal zone may provide the bulk of a trout’s food.

Zonation of stillwaters; for illustrative purposes the thermocline is over-thick. Also, the line above the profundal zone is often considered the 1% incident-light level, that is, by the time the light reaches this level it has been reduced to 1% of its intensity at the surface.

ANNUAL TEMPERATURE CYCLE

Most fly-fishers are familiar with the annual temperature cycle of lakes, so I’ll be relatively brief. Water is most dense at 39 deg F (4 deg C). Ice, being less dense, floats. Where it’s cold enough in winter, the ice and the water immediately below it are less dense than the remainder of the lake water and so a temperature inversion occurs, i.e., colder water resting over warmer water. In spring the ice melts and the surface water gradually reaches 39 deg F (4 deg C). At this time the entire lake is at the same temperature and, given sufficient wind, a thorough mixing at all depths follows. This is called the spring turnover. During the summer the surface water continues to warm. If the lake is deep enough, and if there is sufficient wind, currents are generated that mix the warm and cold water, but only to a certain depth. This action creates a thermal stratification. The water is warm on top and cold on the bottom. At some depth, which varies considerably with environmental and physical conditions, a narrow transition zone appears, the well-known thermocline (Figure 1). Under some conditions the thermocline may be the only comfortable area for certain species, both predator and prey. The thickness of this transition zone is highly variable, from a few inches to several yards. Nor is it static, moving downward in the summer and upward as fall approaches, and in shallow lakes may disappear intermittently depending on wind conditions. Finally, the thermocline is not even always horizontal. Certain wind-induced currents can cause it to tilt, meaning that it can be closer to the surface at one end of a lake than at the other.

Cooling surface temperatures in the autumn provoke the final phase of the cycle. The cool water sinks forcing the warmer water below to the top. The water slowly reaches a uniform temperature everywhere, then the wind can thoroughly mix it