Posts Tagged Kebari

5 Yrs.

Five Yrs. . . .

Ebisu Approved
(NYC 04 09 2017)

“Five Years” is the title to the opening track of David Bowie’s necessary masterpiece “The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars”.

Five years now marks the amount of time I have spent rendering the topic of tenkara in images and words.  During that time, Bowie has passed, although his music continues to inspire those of us still here, some of us fishing.

Manhattan saw my first use of true telescoping fishing on the fly. Exploration of the island’s fresh and salt fisheries has centered tenkara at my angling core. Rod, Line, Fly = fishing, and fish, more often than not.

The sport has drawn me across the face of New York, as well as Connecticut, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Colorado, Washington and Hawaii, waters fresh and salt.

It has been stated countless times in conversation that it takes ten years (or maybe 10,000 hours as in the words of Malcolm Gladwell), that it takes such long time to end up a master of some thing.

“Five Years” begins a great Bowie album.

Perhaps five years ends the beginning of an aspiring tenkara master’s journey path.

Five years ago today I began to offer my own word on tenkara, fishing, fly tying, and adventure, which I then as continue to now find to be a more than fitting, in fact necessary, natural progression of an author whose book Small Fry: The Lure of the Little, published in 2009, coincided in some ways parallel with the bright and enterprising incorporation of Tenkara USA by Daniel Galhardo.

Imagine my happiness, then, to receive in coincidence a copy of Daniel’s new authoritative tenkara book, — “The Book” – on this same 5th anniversary weekend of Tenkara Takes Manhattan.

Ebisu now, as then, appears to approve.

– rPs, Palm Sunday, 04 12 2017

Postscript: Revisit the first TTM post here:  https://tenkaratakesmanhattan.com/2012/04/09/hello-world/

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Cold Water, Wet Wind

Cold Water, Wet Wind . . .

 

The Sticks Cast
(NYC 03 2017)

Days of rain had drawn a distinct mudline, a seam bordered by blued rippled crystal, rendered by cold water current and a consistent wet wind. Perfect, for a stretch, from which fish might pounce on prey and retreat, covered.

A largemouth of fifteen inches darted from this cover and raced over the sprouts of pond bottom plants and in full sun rolled over my Green Guarantee. Rusty ron P. raised Ebisu, plucked the fly from the fish’s mouth a nanosecond before jaws could clamp down on the inhaled line.

Between the lasting breezes, a cold even thermal wear could not weather long. Run, jog, run made mandatory to stay active, not frozen. Beyond the sticks of last year’s shoreline stalks, fishes, and by leaning, balanced, a toehold on dry rock, Ebisu held out to work kebari along the edges, fishes.

Fishes. Yes. No, not the black bass, nor the expected black crappie. The bluegill, male and female both, took to strike the feather and fur kebari worked on the steady swim just above bottom.

Cold water.

Wet wind.

Fist Fish, 2017.

First Fish, 2017.
(NYC 03 2017)

Second Fish, 2017.

Second Fish, 2017.
(NYC 03 2017)

Yes. Gone fishing. Catching and Releasing. Happy.

–  rPs 03 31 2017

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Brought to You by the Letter F

Brought to You by the Letter F . . .

The Numismatic Fly Guy Strikes Again (NYC 02 2017)

The Numismatic Fly Guy Strikes Again
(NYC 02 2017)

Yes, the letter F has been appearing everywhere this February. You’ll see what I mean if you read on . . .

New York City’s weather has been warmer than usual this winter. The lakes of the five boroughs did freeze over for a short period at the beginning of February. Fly tying time, seasoned with a personal interest in numismatics, began in earnest.

And then spring arrived over one month early. Mourning doves began to announce the dawn of each new day that felt fine for fishing. Feathered friends of many species, singing and frolicking about the first blooming snowdrops, hinted that the fishes in the borough parks could be just as active below the waterline.

Ah, but an opportunity free to work a level line and kebari over a trout or bass has not presented itself. Work and the apparent full-time job of Manhattan real estate maintenance have a way of taking over when the weather seems especially good for fishing. So it has been this winter season, although there were a few hours free enough to check out the annual Fly Fishing Film Tour.

F3T Reflective Selfie (NYC 02 27 2017)

F3T Reflective Selfie
(NYC 02 27 2017)

F3T 2017 arrived in Manhattan at SVA Theater on February 27. The annual event hosted by Urban Angler, Ltd. featured tables for The American Museum of Fly Fishing, Casting for Recovery, and Amberjack. Refreshments provided by Catskill Brewery, Sullivan St. Bakery, and The Meatball Shop made it a night of fishing culture almost as good as a day’s actual fishing on the water.

Fat Tuesday came a day earlier thanks to the F3T! (NYC 02 27 2017)

Fat Tuesday came a day early thanks to the F3T!
(NYC 02 27 2017)

Today is Fat Tuesday, time to set aside tenkara for a moment to feast and be festive. Fishing will happen again soon enough, for sure.

February . . . brought to you by the letter F.

– rPs 02 28 2017

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Clean Slate

Clean Slate . . .

Nymphing with Ebisu in January (NYC 01 2017)

Nymphing with Ebisu in January
(NYC 01 2017)

New York City wore a thin sheet of powdered snow for a few days at the start of the year.  Sustained rains came to soak the five boroughs, misted, warm enough to keep the park ponds free of ice. The cleanest water of the year rests still and cold . . . and uncovered.

The season of slate water is here to mark the new year. Winds like change blow through in between days foggy and still. Stillwater tenkara may best be tried when the wind is low enough not to complicate a narrow cast over and around branches bare or covered with dry leaves, crisp, curled, almost eager to grab a traditional tapered line or 5x leader.

Nymphs (and streamers if you must try more than one fly), crawled just above the bottom build technique, but often seem not to lure interest. Fishes all seem to have vanished, perhaps in the deepest water bedded down in the same submerged leaves that give the New York City waters that wintertime tannic quality and stony dark color.

Combined, it almost reads like a sign.

“Do Not Disturb”

For now then, fishes, all right.

– rPs 01 22 2017

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Jetty Knight

Jetty Knight . . .

Jetty Knight by Maryann Amici (12 2016)

Jetty Knight
by Maryann Amici
(12 2016)

or Nothing, for the Birds . . .

Sometimes one takes tenkara to the ends of the Earth near the end of the year. Can one go father on running foot than the surf zone, North Atlantic Ocean, in December? Here you are.

The Birds

The Birds Family Scolopacidae (12 2016)

The Birds
Family Scolopacidae
(12 2016)

One picks fishing trips like slot machines. A line wins, sometime(s). Engaged in it on the fly is only a strategy. So is Tenkara. Wins are enjoyed, as are fishes, yet these come spaced enough for no exact science to be sure. Time and place judge. Conditions mix. Catches vary.

One day the water was calm, the breeze, barely, but very cold. The tenkara rod extended above surf and tolerated twitches tethered to a Clouser Kebari along the swells. Cormorants and other birds angled nearby. Hours passed. No takers.

The Pattern

Clouser Kebari (rPs 12 2016)

Clouser Kebari
(rPs 12 2016)

The Bait

The Bait (12 2016)

The Bait
(12 2016)

The Waves

The Waves (12 2016)

The Waves
(12 2016)

Next time swells capped white even an 8-weight could only surf high, water bucking the weighted pattern like a reveler on a casino’s mechanical bull. One hour made an epic casting lesson schooled by wind and water as fishes below hugged into boulder rock crevices unreachable.

Sometimes one fishes and catches nothing but a contemplative time, an athletic time, spent in a surf wave of sporting happiness.

Nothing, for the birds?

Slumbering Shell (12 2016)

Slumbering Shell
(12 2016)

— rPs 12 20 2016

Postscript: In memory of Louis J. Amici, Jr. (1947-2016) and Jeff Feldmeier (1966-2016). They always met the train on time.

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When Sunsets are Sudden

When Sunsets are Sudden . . .

 

Bluegill in November (NYC 11 2016)

Bluegill in November
(NYC 11 2016)

Sunsets are sudden in November. A day filled with fine mist and nimbus sky can open up, sprint into a quick dip of the sun, a sudden appearance by the moon, indigo sky meeting a horizon silhouetted for a brief period before an almost liquid tangerine infinity.  Venus glows star-white bright low to the southwest.

Leaves give tannin to the color tone of darker autumn water. Some lower branches of the Norway maples hold onto pennants of green and gold. Ginkgo like old gold coins pile into wind-drawn patches along the pond path. The oaks above and behind keep a full coat of the most russet leaves that whisper in low passing passages when the weather is best for angling. Mitten weather, still air, cold enough for a fingerless weave if dressed for comfort.

 

 Mitten Weather: Autumn Impressionism (NYC 2016)

Mitten Weather:
Autumn Impressionism
(NYC 2016)

A city park light switches on and the scattered bite of bluegill juveniles ceases. The bite become as light as the feather and fur assembled onto a crimped barbless salmon hook. The size 8 shank gets nibbled in and a light set of the rod raised connects to heaving sideswipes repeated four or five times before the fish in net measures out to ten inches, a quarter pound. Small fish this time of year bolstered by the stronger resistance the finned ones use in the angling wrestle.

Black crappies by the light of the night, and then, after a final fish, an early “Good night.”

Days follow that might be bright and cold and clear. The city soars into Holiday Season. The coated oaks then chatter and even roar in a strong sustained blow from the Canadian west. Days bright, best spent recasting, spent writing.

 

Black Crappie at Dusk (NYC 11 2016)

Black Crappie at Dusk
(NYC 11 2016)

 

– rPs 11 28 2016

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Olympian Gymnasts

Olympian Gymnasts . . .

Tenkara fishing a smallmouth stream in summer. (07 2016)

Smallmouth Stream in Summer
(07 2016)

 

The jumps of the smallmouth bass are spectacular feats of athleticism. You could jump from the lawn to the tip of the gable in one hop if your legs were so strengthened to scale.

Smallmouth Season.  Small Creeks. The smaller waters where smallmouth reside, if only for the warmer months, offer slow runs over submerged logs rooted in silt, or stretches of swifter, shallower water where the shoulders of boulders break the clean current.

The small stream smallmouth is a seasonal fish. Bass swim upstream into these tributaries of larger flows in search of secluded spawning areas, cooler water, more relaxed currents. One may find only a half dozen such stretches of several hundred feet along one or two miles as the map reads.

Here plenty of creatures forage and become forage for the bass. Summer is also a time when large caddis dry fly patterns can coax fish rising to such naturals.

I have used the Deer and White, size 12, on streams where a smallmouth one foot in length was the average. The standard of measure I use is The Jump. Most bass of this size are Olympian Gymnasts above the water. Vertical jumps of several feet numbering as many as six, the smallmouth has both height and number!

Winded in The Net (07 2016)

Winded in The Net
(07 2016)

 

The rare use of the exclamation point is earned. Smallmouth bass are that exciting to seek out with rod, line, and fly. In between, the encounter with the redbreast sunfish gives added weight to the pull I feel for small bass streams in summer. And redbreasts do pull; they fill the role of permit here.

Fooled by a Soft Hackle: Redbreast Sunfish (07 2016)

Fooled by a Soft Hackle: Redbreast Sunfish
(07 2016)

 

The occasional stream bluegill may pop up, too.

Stream Bluegill (07 2016)

Stream Bluegill
(07 2016)

 

As may the fallfish take the place of tarpon. Large adults of twenty inches, silvered and strong, match the profile and can porpoise in defiance of any standard or tenkara fly tackle.

Fallfish and TUSA Ebisu (07 2016)

Fallfish and TUSA Ebisu
(07 2016)

 

Grand Slam! Yes, there is even more, that much more, to love about Smallmouth Season. Go find out! (hint-hint: that exclamation point again and again)

 

–  rPs 08 03 2016

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