AS SEEN IN THE MARCH/APRIL 2007 ISSUE

Visiting sunny South Florida for the first time? Looking to accomplish a number of angling’s greatest challenges that you’ve been dreaming of? Conquer all of your fly-casting problems with the world’s best instructors.

My client, who shall remain nameless because I sincerely wish to KEEP him as a client, was finally coming down from his euphoric high as we drove home. He had just finished his first night-snook trip, and although he was still a little bit dazed from the experience, he slumped in the passenger seat of my truck and simply couldn’t stop babbling about catching three slot-sized fish.

The Cast: Ah, yes. Therein lays the problem for “wannabes” as well as experienced fly-flingers who taste saltwater for the first time. Because, to paraphrase that wonderful line from The Wizard of Oz, “Toto, I’ve got a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore!”

The cast is the single most important element in becoming a successful fly angler. Forget location. Forget fly pattern. Forget time of day and rising tides and falling barometers. None of that matters if you can’t cast! And yet, the innocents head to the Sunshine State equipped with bargain-basement equipment that wouldn’t impress a bluegill, let alone wary bonefish. Even more sadly, they must have watched a Warner Brother’s cartoon that had Elmer Fudd standing waist-deep in a trout stream flailing around as if he was being attacked by a swarm of killer bees. The plain fact of the matter is that an awful lot of out-of-towners mistakenly believe that fly casting means waving the rod lazily through the air seven or eight times before dropping coils of line on the water 15 feet from where they’re standing. This belief is far from the truth.

I recently participated in a casting clinic sponsored by the Mangrove Coast Fly Fishers, the Sarasota chapter of the Fly Fishing Federation. There were six certified instructors and 36 students. One of the students was a fellow who had scoffed at fly fishing, “…because I saw guys waving around their rods and figured I could make three casts with my spinning rod while they still had all that line in the air.”

He quickly learned that the reality of it was just the opposite. Properly executed, there is usually no more than one “false” cast before the fly is laid upon the surface of the water. This means that if a fly angler and a spin fisherman are drifting a mangrove shoreline 50 feet away, the fly angler can usually make three perfect presentations to every one made by the conventional fisherman. The reason for this is simple. After casting, the fly angler only strips the line three or four times, directly in the strike zone close to shore, before making another cast. The spin fisherman has to reel the lure all the way back to the boat before casting again. You do the math!

Consider this: when Woody Hayes coached at Ohio State, he used to say “When you pass a football, three things can happen and two of them are bad.” Captain Tony Petrella says, “When you wave fly line in the air, five things can happen and four of them are bad.”

The first is that your arm gets tired. The second is that fish keep swimming. If you spot a snook cruising that mangrove shoreline 50 feet away and you begin to furiously churn the air like a windmill before letting the fly fall, chances are he’s now 70 feet away and your offering doesn’t land anywhere near the target. The third bad thing is that ever since they hatched, fish have feared things in the sky that are always trying to eat them. You know - pelicans, herons and other feathered-fiends. Well, when a fish sees fly line fluttering around over its head, instinctively it assumes “Death from above,” and quickly dashes for cover. The fourth bad thing is that repeated false casts - waving the line back and forth - eventually gets sloppy, and the caster ultimately either hooks the boat, himself, the guide or clumsily slaps the line down on the water. The only good that could come out of the situation is a well-executed, crisp cast which results in a hooked fish!

I’m going to reveal something quite surprising right now. Getting to the point of a well-executed, crisp cast which results in a hooked fish is actually easy. Stop giggling, please, because I’m not kidding! Remember the headline of this story? The part about the world’s best casting instructors? Well, they are with you every single day, and they will solve your casting problems instantly if you will only slightly turn your head and watch your rod and line as you manipulate it. Yes, the casting instructors I’m referring to are your very own two eyes!

Unfortunately, novice fly casters are so intent on learning this wonderful new skill that they develop tunnel vision and can’t focus upon anything except what’s directly in front of them. Most often that’s an open field where they are practicing their presentation – an open field where I assure you there are few snook or redfish lurking around.

You see, unless you position your body in a sideways stance and actually study your back cast, you will swear on everything you hold sacred in your life that your rod tip is stopping at a point in the air that would be somewhere between one o’clock and two o’clock, that is, if the spot directly over your head was noon. In reality, your rod tip usually drifts somewhere south of the horizon and your fly line is lying behind you in a puddle on the grass. This is a very bad thing.

On the forward cast, or “presentation” stroke, the rod tip must stop about ten o’clock-high, after the tip has traveled forward on a straight line. This is usually called the ‘casting arc.’ I refer to it as ‘the cone of power,’ because that narrow path is what forces the fly rod tip to flex and ultimately throw the fly line forward as if it were a catapult.

If you’re anything like my newfound client friend from “Up North,” you’ve probably spent most of your time using a four-weight or five-weight rod to throw 20 to 30 feet of fly line. The concept of starting a cast with 30 feet of fly line outside the rod tip and then shooting another 30 feet of line between your fingers is completely alien to everything you’ve ever done. Don’t get discouraged, because I assure you that you’re not alone.

The vast majority of out-of-state fly fishermen who visit Florida have never fished an eight-weight or heavier fly rod. The exceptions may be steelhead and salmon anglers from the Michigan/Ohio/New York area, or pike and musky anglers from Minnesota and Wisconsin. Even they are unaccustomed to making long casts.

Perfecting the proper presentation means years of practice. Stick with it. Your persistence and determination will inevitably result in tight loops and accurate landings

Because here we start our cast with 30 feet of line, the best way to improve your visual aids is to buy a black magic marker before you ever buy your first crab fly. Measure off 30 feet of line and make a black mark 10 inches long. Measure off another 10 feet of fly line and mark it with two-inch hash marks. Then measure 15 feet more and add another 10 inch mark.

Begin your practice session in an open field by setting up a target on the grass 50 feet away from where you’ll be standing (30 feet of fly line plus a 10-foot leader plus some of the fly rod extending in front of you will equal just short of 50 feet). After pulling line off the reel (it’s called “stripping”) until the first black mark is at the tip of the rod, pinch the fly line under the fingers of your rod hand, look behind you and make your cast. Remember one basic thing: the fly always lands where the rod tip points last. That means you must aim the tip of your rod at that target. Practice this basic maneuver until your motion is smooth and easy. I refer to the cast as a “controlled application of power,” much like swinging a tennis racket, golf club or baseball bat. You “swing” with your whole arm, NOT by snapping your wrist - which is absolutely the worst thing you can do in fly casting.

Once this initial maneuver feels comfortable to you, simply strip a couple feet of fly line off the reel and hold it in your non-casting hand instead of pinching it under your fingers. Then execute the same cast you just were doing, throwing 30 feet of line and the leader at your target. It helps to tie a small bit of bright yarn to the tip of the leader so you’ll know if your cast landed close to the target.

After you have mastered this move and your cast is on the mark, strip five more feet of line from the reel. Make your regular cast, allowing the line to “shoot” between a circle you’ve formed with the thumb and forefinger of your line hand. Now you’ve covered about 50 feet of water (10 foot leader, 30 feet of line to the first black mark, five feet of shooting line and about six feet of rod extension).

Now strip off another five feet of line and repeat the process. Now you’ll see those two-inch, 40 foot hash marks at the tip of the rod. You’ve just covered about 55 feet of water. Keep practicing. Once you pass the 55 foot marks outside the rod tip, you’ll be able to catch fish with a fly rod just about anywhere in the world!

Here in Florida, the rod of choice is designed to handle an eight-weight line. That’s equivalent to a medium-heavy spinning rod, and it will be fine for most anything swimming around down here except tarpon. Don’t get put off by hearing someone say, “My fly rod cost over $600!”

Those new to the sport can purchase quality equipment from manufacturers such as Temple Fork Outfitters for substantially less - equipment that comes with a lifetime guarantee. The trick is in learning how to use the equipment properly. Your best bet is to walk into a specialty fly shop and announce: “My name is…and I want to learn how to fly fish.” Within minutes, you’ll be outside, outfit in hand with a local expert putting you through the paces. Just don’t forget about the world’s best casting instructors, because your very own two eyes will instill accuracy and precision better than anyone else ever will.

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