10-03-2004, 02:29 PM
....last Wed., in the worst of Jeanne's remnants. Real eel, at the Chatham Light, at the end of a long afternoon. Love the CND two-handers.
Otherwise, I fooled around the surf at Lecount's Hollow (where I didn't expect much, and thus was not disappointed), and also part of an afternoon at Lieutenant Island. I'm guessing that the situation there was: "right idea, wrong time of year." It looked so fishy, with flats and currents.... My guess (in my very limited experience) that any migrants in there would have been in by chance, following bait in.
The Cape is beautiful, and I will be back.
That was arguably the worst weather day all year, since spring anyway. Sideways rain, dark skies, cold, gale warnings, ugly as could be! We deserved credit for just being out there. You hung in there and found success despite the conditions. Too bad plan B (combining trips the next day) didn't work as I had hoped, I wished you could have been with us when the skies turned blue and lit up the flats.
It was great fishing with you and I look forward to hooking up with you next time I am in Seattle!
10-03-2004, 11:42 PM
Is this another part of the "six degrees," Juro? When we called you from Kelley's Valley Kafe near the Cowlitz and you told us of getting a client into a fish during a howling windstorm . . .?
Yes, as Tom put it "that was hard work!".
On a positive note there is something that's exhilarating about fishing in Jeanne's temper tantrum. Storm watchers see the beauty in the storm as they stood in rain slickers at the observation area, looking at the crazy flyfishermen (us) with disbelief. There was a certain satisfaction in throwing the two-hander into tempest and getting some stripers to hand against the odds.
With only a one day pass on his non-fishing visit to the area, Tom took what he could get and under the circumstances made the absolute best of it. I tried to reach my client for the next day by cell phone to combine their trips on the following day to take advantage of the fair weather forecast but we didn't hear back until we were soaking our chilled bones in a big cup of espresso at a Chatham Village cafe'. It could've been worse - there was no white stripe to be found on our backs and despite being wet, cold and wind-beaten there was a certain satisfaction in defeating the storm with fly rods. I'd do it again in a heartbeat.