ABOUT
Hi. My name is Joel, and I’m a Carp Angler
Several years ago I was fishing a flat near the marina at Ray Roberts. A beautiful July afternoon – hot but not unbearable as I was wading in 8 inches of water and there was a slight breeze. It was the time of day when most of the bass anglers were coming in, their 250 horse engines roaring to idle as they approached the “No Wake” zone. Luckily, I was fishing the inside of this flat (the “inside” being created by an old road bed that was exposed) and was not disturbed by the wakes from the boat traffic. The flat was in perfect condition; 8-14 inches deep, clear water, limited vegetation, and LOADED with damselflies. This particular area is very susceptible to fluctuations in water level. If the lake drops a foot, the whole thing is exposed. A few inches too high and boat wakes ruin the visibility. The carp handle these changes easily but we have to adjust. There are few times out of the year when this flat “works”, but when it’s on, it’s ON!
I was about halfway through the flat when I saw three tails about 50 feet in front of me. If you could change the red flake bass boat into a flats skiff and take a little of the orange tint out of the middle tail, you would think you were on a flat off the south Texas coast; sneaking up on a pod of reds. I closed the distance to about 30 feet and started my cast, trying to keep the leader low and to the side until the presentation. The #8 bearded Charlie dropped about a foot in front of the trio (who were all occupied at the time with something on the bottom – producing a large “mud”). I waited until the tails dropped and the fish moved forward out of the mud and then began a series of short strips, trying to imitate an immature crawfish caught in the open. The “competition factor” worked and the left fish surged a few inches in front of the others and inhaled the fly. I distinctly remember seeing the flash of those orange lips and feeling resistance in the line. A quick strike with the rod and all hell broke loose. The hooked fish tore down the flat with one of his buddies while the other fish bolted right at me. In no time the fish was into my backing and the typical see-saw carp battle began. Folks always refer to these fish as the “golden bone” but they are more like a “golden red” – using size and strength to their advantage rather that pure speed.
The battle took me close to the exposed road bed and when I looked up, a bass boat had pulled up within 30 yards. The two guys had noticed the seriously bent flyrod and I guess decided that it was a good opportunity to finish the beer in their cooler while watching me fight the fish. The carp went into the backing three or four times and my screaming reel (in bad need of cleaning) added to the drama. Soon another boat joined the first – the bass fisherman commenting on my tactics and how large this fish must be and actually cheering. After what seemed like 5 or 6 minutes the carp finally came to hand. I thought I had hooked the smallest of the three fish but this was a fine specimen – at least 6 pounds. I lifted the fish (probably with a little “Jose Wejebe” flair given the audience) with smug nonchalance.
“Aw shit,” exclaimed the fisherman in the front of the first boat. “That’s a f—ing carp. I thought you’d caught a big FISH!” Sigh. Such is the life of a carp angler.
This all started for me about ten years ago. I’ve been flats fishing on the coast since the early 90’s and quickly got hooked by the totally visual experience that is flats flyfishing. Throw in a couple of trips to the Lower Yucatan and Florida and I was toast – a bum. Luckily, when I started this downhill slide, I had a good job in medical sales and could afford all the trips and toys (this was the time when you HAD to have a Billy Pate reel). The first “high-end” rod I purchased after college was a Fisher “traveler” 8-9wt. from Hunter Bradlee in Dallas. Add a matching Pate “Salmon” and I was set! Then I decided to become a teacher. Great for having time to fish – lousy for having a spare $4000 for a trip to Belize. The first few years I taught, my summers were spent guiding in Colorado, so I went a few seasons without a trip to the saltwater. Then, I got to spend a glorious two weeks in June of ’98 (I think) on the Yucatan coast just north of Punta Allen. The “salt” was back! And with it a new found love of visually stalking big fish in skinny water.
Later that summer my wife and I went on a picnic at the Johnson Branch area of Ray Roberts. As usual with any trip we take somewhere around water, she ended up reading a book, catching rays and drinking a beer while I strung up a fly rod to harass some fish. After catching a few small bass out of some willows, I heard a commotion somewhere behind me. Looking along the shoreline I noticed a wake that had to be caused by a LARGE fish swimming in shallow water. As I followed the wake it dissipated and then a tail broke the surface followed by a small cloud of mud. I was amazed – it looked just like a redfish tailing on a crab (except the tail was missing a spot and had a slight orange cast instead of the bluish-bronze of a red). I had no idea what kind of fish it was but I wanted to find out and immediately launched my #6 white wooly bugger. The fly was ignored four times and then I “lined” the fish which bolted right past me like a torpedo. In the clear, shallow water I got a good look at the fish as it streaked by – a CARP!
My mind was racing. A big, strong fish tailing in shallow water not 15 minutes from my house?!?!? Would they take a fly? I remembered reading an article just a month or so before by Dave Whitlock about carp. You’ve probably seen the same one – mulberry and cottonseed flies, carp on the flats of Lake Michigan. I was pretty pumped and immediately planned my return to the “flats” of Ray Roberts, this time armed with a selection of bonefish flies.
During my prior trip to Mexico, a #8 tan and white Clouser was THE fly for bonefish. The fish were not that big, but we caught dozens of them everyday. So, three days later I stepped back into that shallow shoreline armed with a 6 wt. rod and a handful of those small Clousers. It was distressing. Fish ignored my offerings; I lined them, spooked them with poor wading, and couldn’t even see half the ones that flushed when I almost stepped on them. These things were harder to spot than bones! It took two trips to finally get my eyes adjusted to seeing the carp (and another 2 years before I could REALLY see them). I finally realized that I was putting the fly at “bonefish” or “redfish distance” from the fish – 2-3 feet and then getting the fly in position (I thought). They never saw the majority of these presentations. I had to drop the fly within 16-18” and hope it didn’t freak them out when those lead eyes hit the water. On my third trip everything worked and I hooked up with a carp after about an hour of fishing. It was a smaller fish (maybe 3.5 lbs) but it cleared all my line and took out about 20 yards of backing. Twice.
Things started to fall into place through the rest of the summer and by the end of August, I could be assured of catching a half dozen fish each time I went out. New flats were discovered, fly patterns tested and developed, rod and leader choices narrowed. The summer of 1999 saw me become a full-blown carp addict. I was working at Backwoods in Dallas that summer and in mid-July was talking to a customer about redfishing on the coast. I mentioned how similar carp fishing at Ray Roberts was to the saltwater flats and that I was catching them with predictable regularity.
“Do you guide for them?” he asked.
I was shocked. People guided for carp? People PAID to be guided for carp? I think I said something like, “We’ll go and if you have a great time and catch fish, you can pay me what you think it’s worth.”
I made $200. The next summer I did 9 or 10 trips. The summer after that I did about 15. Soon I had regular clientele, many of which had no interest at all in carp fishing but wanted to work on their “eyes” before a big trip to the flats. A group of dentists from Ft. Worth go out with me every summer before an annual trip to Andros. About half of my business is now people that are preparing for an expensive flats trip somewhere and want to be as prepared as possible. It helps – if you can spot carp at 25-30 feet, bonefish on a sand or grass flat look like elephants on a ski slope!
Now I’m pushing the envelope a little more. Carp are almost becoming “mainstream” – there are carp flies in this year’s Flyshop catalog for Pete’s sake and almost every magazine has had at least one “My Favorite Carp Tactics/Flies” article. I’m currently working on a poling canoe so we can cover more area on a trip (in more comfort) and dialing in black buffalo. These fish are nothing like smallmouth buffalo; they are the permit of the freshwater flats – they will hardly look at a fly but will clear a reel if hooked.
Give me a call – I’ll introduce you to one!
