
Two decades ago today on Earth Day, a sunny Sunday, I lived the experience that became Chapter One of Philadelphia on the Fly.
Time . . . FLYS.
Happy Earth Day 2021

— rPs 04 22 2021
February: often full of hints of spring, but not this year.
Snow on the beach, like ice on the pond, keeps the tenkara trip just out of reach.
Spring begins in just a few more weeks. Then, perhaps, the real thing when fixed line fishing in close quarters can begin.
— rPs 02 28 2021
There is a “no” in snow, and that no means no fishing, tenkara or otherwise, for the time being.
There is a “now” in snow as well, and that time now is ripe for reading, fly tying, and the other comfortable indoor aspects of the fishing life.
Anticipation can inspire preparation!
— rPs 01 31 2021
On Ice . . .
Early rise and an eager hike to the park for a final fishing trip found its goal foiled by that signature of the season: ice.
True, the new lid on the lake was “Hielo fino” with a few teasing openings, yet not enough free water presented itself for practical angling. The season is now . . . on ice.
So, 2020, a year to remember – not so much – comes to a close. Those days of bluegill and bass, the elusive trout and carp, and exciting new experiments in the salt – fluke and more – the silver linings to an unexpected, challenging, trying time, remain to warm the imagination over the winter.
Farewell, 2020.
— rPs 12 30 2020
October Surprise . . .
Autumn in the salt paints images of bluefish and striped bass in the fly fisher’s mind. So, imagine my October surpise when in the chilly rain my olive and white Clouser conjured up another new, and unexpected, tenkara species:
Hickory Shad
– rPs 10 31 2020
September’s Small Reward . . .
A September afternoon spent around a pond in a NYC park marked my return to a more conventional tenkara setting. After a salty summer spent exploring the coastal back bays, the sweetwater spot was familiar, the fishing exercise gentle, even easy, yet it held a surprise in the catching.
Despite my practiced casting and improved fly tying, there was the problem of the elusive fish. The water looked reasonably healthy, the solunar tables were in alignment to my time and place, yet not one fish met the net after several hours of focused fishing. No bass, no crappie, no perch, not even a juvenile bluegill.
Perhaps it was the bright sun, a high UV index, which kept the fish off the bite. I had adjusted from the start, beginning along a bank of tall pickerel weed, working the cover of the pond’s shaded bank drop offs. Not a bite, not one.
Tough fishing in the form of no catching can shake the confidence of someone who has just been on a roll, catching bigger game fish consistenly all season. But here, at summer’s end, in the backyard water, a sudden lull.
It wasn’t until I had fished an entire lakeside and back before I felt a strike around the base of the same pickerel weed where I had started.
At the end, both of line and day, a bass. One little fish in the hand, a small reward to end another summer on a positive tip.
Tenkara never fails to challenge, teach, and surprise. Now let’s see what autumn holds.
— rPs 09 30 2020
Low tide around the back bays of the American Northeast allows hours of comfortable wading and in midsummer a chance to fish the fly for fluke, the summer flounder, on these sod bank flats.
Tenkara makes a fine fit for this kind of fishing. Stealth in waste deep water gets you up close, the fixed line allows methodical casts to cover the surrounding area, and the aggressive manner of the summer flounder assures a lot of chances for hookups in close quarters.
The rig for fluke is simple. A level line of 10 to 20 pound test, fluorocarbon preferred, a few feet longer than the fully extended rod, attached to the Lillian on the top end and a small Clouser Minnow, Lefty’s Deceiver, or Half & Half on the business tip. These standard classic patterns will mimic the bay anchovy, mummichog, and silversides upon which the fluke feeds.
The exagerrated twitch used in tenkara is a match with conventional fluke presentation. The takes are sudden and intense, and if you miss a hookup, a pause and continuation often brings a second or third strike.
No other fish fights quite like a flounder. The nearly two dimensional body can slice through a current rip with ease, or plane in the water against the rod, creating a formidable bend.
And be sure to carry a net, fluke flutter and stay aggressive even out of the water. The sight of the fish, like a muse of Pablo Picasso during his Cubist period, never grows old. Nothing says “saltwater” quite like a flatfish.
— rPs 07 31 2020