The Reformed Angler Angling

(Originally posted on The Reformed Angler August 14, 2006)

^{Jn 21:1} Afterward Jesus appeared again to his disciples, by the Sea of Tiberias. It happened this way: ² Simon Peter, Thomas (called Didymus), Nathanael from Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee, and two other disciples were together. ³ “I’m going out to fish,” Simon Peter told them, and they said, “We’ll go with you.” So they went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing.

As I mentioned a couple weeks ago, fishing and family vacations are not easy to mix together, but we decided that Friday was the day I was going to fish. Accordingly, on Wednesday I visted the Snake River Angler in Moose Wyoming (just outside the south entrance to Grand Teton National Park) and started asking for advice.

Since anglers are the bread and butter for such businesses, I bought flies as I was asking questions. The man who helped me was quite forthcoming with information, and dissuaded me from my original plan, which was fo fish Leigh Lake (north of Jenny Lake). His advice was to try the area where Cascade Creek goes into Jenny Lake, and then try Cottonwood Creek, the outlet to Jenny Lake.

All the while he was talking, he was adding flies to my pile, and I was able to stop at two dozen -- which was quite enough. My son added a t-shirt to the pile, and attempted to slip in a few other items, mostly with sharp edges. I went for the shirt, but the knives stayed at the store.

I bought a one day license for Friday, and in the morning of August 11, I got up at 6 am and walked to the boat dock for the early-bird ferry across the lake to the Cascade Canyon trailhead. Jenny Lake is a glacially-scoured basin, thus is quite deep (over 250 feet) with a steep dropoff. Where Cascade Creek comes in, it is fairly shallow, though, and I could wade it comfortably. Well, the scenery was great, and the kingfishers were out and about, but I didn't even SEE a fish let alone get one to take second look at my flies, so I took the ferry back about 9:30 am and Susan, Liam, and I piled into the car and drove down to one of the stream accesses to Cottonwood Creek.

A piece of petrified wood in Cottonwood Creek

The stream bed of Cottonwood Creek where I fished consisted of large glacial cobblestones between 4 and 12 inches in diameter (or larger). They were slick and rolled easily (you can see where this is heading...) Susan sat on a rock near the creek while I gingerly waded out to where I could cast to likely spots.

I cast upstream and let the fly drift down. There were a number of belly flashes, indicating that a trout had been interested enough to take a second look, but it seemed they were not interested enough to take the offering. At least they were looking up... I tried letting the fly drift past me and downstream near the concrete supports for the one-lane bridge. This was a bit more productive, as I felt a strike. I turned so I could play the fish more comfortable, and the cobbles rolled beneath my feet. I fell and landed on my side in the creek, but I had the presence of mind to make sure I didn't fall on my rod. Susan, who had been taking lots of pictures, somehow failed to record my undignified posture for posterity.

When I got up, I picked up the rod, and to my surprise, the trout was still on. I played it quickly, and as I took it in my hand, it squirmed and took off expeditiously for cover. It was a nice brook trout, about 8 inches.

I kept on fishing at that location, and played 4 more fish (or maybe the same fish 4 times), but these managed to unhook themselves. Or as fly anglers prefer to put it, these were LDRs (long distance releases). In any case, it was nice to be able to fish, and I decided to call it a good day, and we went back to camp and had lunch.

Wyoming (whose laws govern fishing in Grand Teton National Park), is trying to restore native cutthroat trout, and has a special bonus limit on brookies, and I was actually looking forward to helping in that process. My major disappointment though, was that I didn't catch any cutthroats. My fishing preferences tend toward small streams and native trout, and these are often at odds with the management practices. There are cutthroat trout, brook trout, rainbow trout, brown trout, and lake trout to be had in the various waters of Grand Teton and Yellowstone National Parks. Of all these trout, only the cutthroat are native, and when the Lewis and Clark expedition passed near this area 200 years ago, that was what they caught and ate.

An indicator of what was on the trout's menu

Unfortunately (in my opinion), state fisheries managers had catered to the wishes of anglers to catch large fish and a lot of them, and stocking programs have imported non-native trout to fill this perceived need. It is good to see the state of Wyoming working with the National Park Service to restore the native fish, and I hope they are successful.

It was a great pleasure to fish on Friday, especially in an area of such beauty, and I hope I can fsh more. It is such a relaxing way to spend time.

All photos in this posting were taken by my wife, Susan Melia-Hancock

Why I Release -- And Why I Don't

Denis Hancock, January, 1995, with minor revisions

"In every catch-and-release fisherman's past there is an old black frying pan...." -- John Gierach, The View From Rat Lake

The debate over catch-and-release (C&R) seems to have divided anglers into several camps. One might see C&R as a religious system, another sees it as a management tool, and another might use C&R simply as a way to avoid cleaning and eating fish. Whatever the point of view, C&R is often a source of friction between flyfishers, with misinformation, personal attacks, and downright nastiness characterizing the debate at times. In Michigan, regulations governing catch-and-release on the "Holy Water" of the Ausable River pitted TU member against TU member, chapter against chapter, and resulted in divisiveness that persists to this day. We are all working toward the same goal, which is the preservation of our precious fisheries, and we should at least assume that others have the same love for the environment as we do.

Catch-and-release as a Management Tool: There is not much debate on the facts here. C&R as well as minimum length limits and slot limits, which can be considered subcategories of C&R, have demonstrated their effectiveness in a variety of fisheries. It can never be a substitute for watershed protection. In fact, by itself it often fails to achieve its goals, as demonstrated by the experience of the Saint Vrain River in Colorado where catch-and-release management was based on some unrealistic assumptions of what the average flow would be. In concert with a total ecosystem approach to fishery management, however, it is a powerful tool in restoring stressed fisheries.

Catch-and-release as Religion: This attitude bothers me for a couple reasons. First, its practitioners, like many "true believers" often have a difficult time dealing with dissent, and this does not lead to effective dialogue. Another reason is that there is no such thing as a truly harmless fishhook. There will always be a certain mortality attached to fishing whether we release or not, and we need to acknowledge this to ourselves and to the people we come into contact with. If C&R is the only acceptable mode of angler behaviour, then we are guilty of inflicting pain solely for our pleasure.

One angler and fly tyer, John Betts, came to grips with this in an article appearing in American Angler (January/February 1994) called "Pointless Fly Fishing" in which he outlined the evolution of his feelings toward the sport, and concluded that he could no longer use a pointed hook to catch fish. Instead he has gone to tying flies on hooks with the point and barb clipped off. Betts feels he can still be an artist at tying flies, and an effective angler by simply fooling the fish. The hook almost always fails to set, and the fish releases itself. Some have likened this to the Native American practice of "counting coup". I don't know whether the editors wrote the title or Betts did, but it is an effective pun. In my opinion, it is truly pointless to fish with a pointless hook. If nothing else, this harasses the trout, and it could be stressful enough to cause damage. If the pointless hook hangs up in the gills, as it might from time to time, then the damage could prove fatal. Regardless, no one can accuse John Betts of failing to have a well-considered opinion, and he must be respected, even if one disagrees with him.

Partridge is manufacuring a hook called TAG (for "touch and go") that has a hook eye at both ends, thereby making hooks virtually impossible to set. I am not sure how these are selling, but I suppose there will be a small market for them.

My Feelings on Catch-And-Release: I feel that C&R is perhaps the most effective tool for preserving populations of game fish in this era of increasing pressure on fisheries. But that is all it is -- a tool. Like all tools, it should be appropriate to the job, and if the job does not require it, then its use should be a matter of personal choice. Let's not kid ourselves -- fishing is just as much a blood sport as hunting, and like it or not, we WILL kill some of the fish we catch whether they die in our creels or die downstream of where we released them. I would prefer to fish in an environment where any given fish I bring alongside could end up in a frying pan or be released to be caught another day. The fact that I choose to release most of my catch is just that -- my choice. And my choice varies with my location. If I catch a "keeper" on Mill Creek (Phelps County, MO), I will almost certainly release it because Mill Creek is one of the relatively few wild trout fisheries in Missouri. If I catch fish in the put-and-take area of the Eleven Point River (Oregon County, MO), they will likely end up in a frying pan.

There are many fishing locations that I would like to fish once, but not regularly. Crane Creek (Stone County, MO) is one of them because it contains a rare pure strain of trout from the McCloud River in California. The beaver ponds in Hidden Valley Creek in Rocky Mountain National Park is another because they contain Greenback Cutthroat Trout, which were the original species that occupied the trout niche in the Arkansas and South Platte drainages of the Eastern Slope of Colorado. September, 1994 I realized my goal at Hidden Valley and released a nice specimen of the Greenback Cutthroat. I have yet to make it to Crane Creek, but if I do, and release a trout there, I will not be likely to return there soon. Why? Because it is strictly C&R. I prefer to have a choice when I fish. It fits my ethic of fishing a little better then simply releasing every fish I catch with no chance of actually keeping a brace for breakfast.

To summarize -- catch-and-release is a useful tool in preserving quality fishing for all, but it should not be approached as an absolute requirement in all cases. A little common sense coupled with some hard facts should be the determining factor. Of course, all Department of Conservation regulations should be observed.

Die Forelle

This article was originally posted approximately 1995 on the Missouri Flyfishing Page.

Die Forelle

In einem Baechlein helle,
Da schoss in froher Eil
Die launische Forelle
Vorueber wie ein Pfeil.
Ich stand an dem Gestade
Und sah in suesser Ruh'
Des muntern fishleins Bade
Im klare Baechlein zu.

Ein Fischer mit dem Rute
Wohl an dem Ufer stand,
Und sah's mit kaltem Blute
Wie sich das fischlein wand.
So lang' dem Wasser helle
So dacht ich, nicht gebricht,
So faengt er die Forelle
Mit seiner Angel nicht.

Doch endlich ward dem Diebe
Die Zeit zu lang.
Er macht das Baechlein tueckisch truebe,
Und eh' es ich gedacht
So zuchte seine Rute
Das Fischlein zappelt dran,
Und ich mit regem Blute
Sah die Betrogne an.

Die ihr goldner Quelle
Der sichern Jugend weilt,
Denkt doch an die Forelle;
Seh' ihr Gefahr, so eilt!
Meist fehlt ihr nur aus Mangel
Der Klugheit. Maedchen seht
Verfuehrer mit der Angel! --
Sonst blutet ihr zu spaet.

---

This poem was written by Christian Schubart, and the first three stanzas were set to music by Franz Schubert as a "lied" and as a series of variations that comprises movement 4 of the "Trout Quintet"

The first three stanzas leave a distinct "anti angling" taste in the mouth, but when the fourth stanza is added, it is correctly seen as an allegorical warning to young women to beware the wiles and hooks of seducers; or more generally, for youth to not be in such a hurry to lose their innocence. One can also see the imagery of the first three stanzas for what the poet intended.

---

A rough translation follows:

In a bright little brook
there swam, with happy speed,
the humorous trout
like an arrow.
I stood on the bank
and watched in sweet silence
the cheerful trouts bathing
in the clear little brook

A fisherman with his rod
came to the stream bank
and watched with cold blood
as the little fish swam.
as long as the water runs clear
so I thought without question
he will not catch the trout
with his hook.

But finally the wait was too long
for the thief.
He made the water malignantly turbid
and before I could think,
his rod shook spasmodically
with the convulsing trout.
And I, with my blood aroused,
looked at the betrayed.

You who wait in safety
at the golden spring of Youth,
Consider the trout
and realize your danger.
You usually go wrong
from lack of awareness.
Young women, see the seducers
with their hooks,
otherwise you will be too late.

Fly Fishing Articles

I am going to port in several pages from the Missouri Fly Fishing Page, which I edited actively from 1994 to 2003, and only sporadically thereafter.