An Ode to Ultralight Fishing

Ultralight fishing is one of my favorite methods of angling. The idea is: to use the lightest tackle available, while attempting to catch the largest fish possible. It's essentially a combination of strategy, leverage, and both. When conducted effectively, ultralight fishing can be quite exhilarating. The reward is like lifting/moving a block of concrete with only a few strands of hair and a quarter-sized pulley. Also, it requires that the angler to be extremely wary of minute mechanical and atmospheric details involved in landing fish. 

Much of the popular appeal of ultralight fishing is the enhanced/magnified connection you feel with the hooked fish. For example, fighting a 24-pound striped bass, with a nine-foot tuna rod and wire line is boring. There is no apparent sense of challenge, and it doesn’t broadcast or transfer subtle vibrations or leverage changes back and fourth between the fisherman and the fish. Conversely—hooking that same 24-pound striper with a six-foot pole, twelve-pound test, and a light 9-bearing spinning reel is exhilarating.

There is also a broad potential for transferability of ultralight fishing, among numerous platforms, from oceanic sharks to creek chub. No matter the expected size of the catch, using the lightest possible tackle increases both the challenge and potential reward of the experience. Plus, as an auxiliary fringe benefit package, the gear will likely cost a bit less (since it’s smaller), the weight of your total excursion load will be decreased, and there are ALWAYS bragging rights that go along with large fish landed on light tackle.

For me, there is a matter of situational context when I go fishing. What I mean is, I try and place myself in a time and place where fishing embodied a definition other than recreation. Imaging a father trying to feed his family, or an explorer looking to secure sustenance throughout his travels. In situations of necessity, luxury tends to be absent. Ultralight tackle is essentially a modern version of rudimentary fishing tools used many years ago.

Surely, as a dedicated angler, I’m susceptible to the lure of “big game.” Someday, I hope to sit tightly strapped in a fighting chair at the back of a boat—agonizing as I hit the 60-minute mark of my battle with a great white shark. I’d love to go back to central Texas and launch weighted frozen half-chickens toward the bottom of deep rivers, in search of 200 pound alligator gar. Still, there is a serene romanticism that remains associated with ultralight fishing. Whether fishing an ocean, river, pond, brook, sea, or lake; there will always exist a specific stream of consciousness that flows from the Zen of ultralight fishing. Peace be with you.