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.

Fly Fishing: A Popular Blog Topic

During the recent past, I visited a bunch of fishing blogs, as it's important to occasionally assess yourself amongst similar others, regardless of your craft. It was an interesting exercise, mainly because much of the intrigue of fishing is how open it is to interpretation. Along the way, this post about fly fishing caught me eye. It's from a really nice blog called AnglerWise, which is worth visiting for anyone interested in light-tackle fishing. 

The post, cleverly titled The Lure of Fly Fishing, provides a clear and simple, yet concise identification of fly fishing as a particular style of angling. Although some moderately technical terms are used, the post paints a picture anyone can understand. AnglerWise accurately explains how “Simply being in nature; waiting, listening, thinking, hoping are all parts of the magic of fishing.” Fly fishing is always a deserving topic of discussion and is well described within the post It's truly a poignant example of a culture within a culture. I've always appreciated the diversity in means and methods to catch fish, particularly between fly fishing and "conventional" angling. There is an artistic uniqueness to fly fishing, and an interesting history behind it.

According to AnglerWise, “there is one style which is the finest example of fishing: Fly fishing. Though complicated, it is an art that when learned, opens the door to the truest of fishing thrills.” I totally agree. Many times, I’ve seen how effective fly fishing can be in certain conditions and/or environments. Usually, when I'm stream-side with my 5’ ultralight rod and Penn Spinfisher SSG reel, throwing black rooster tails tied to four pound test, any fly fishermen nearby tend to draw more attention from the fish. Also, there's this old timer that frequents the beach near my dad's house, who trudges out to the sandbar in his chest waders during the outgoing tide, finesses his fly tackle—and ROUTINELY lands more stripers than any of his bait-casting neighbors on boats or adjacent piers.

You see, I AM a fisherman, and over the years—a handful of women have said I'm "fly", but I'm definitely not a fly fisherman. Still, I've learned much about its practice from older relatives, and am fortunate to have seen it in action. Although there are MANY approaches to angling, fly fishing is truly in a league of its own. It’s an entirely different approach than conventional fishing, and is rich in its own culture. As Anglerwise put it, "Watching a fly fisherman in a stream working the fly line back in forth over his target is like looking at a painting in a museum."

In life, a good way to appreciate something is to have respect for it. For me, fly fishing is a prime example. I don't practice it often, but it's always held my curiosity, and the post on AnglerWise rejuvenated my interest in it. Actually, while writing this post, I gradually began to realize that part of my retirement plan may indeed be unfolding before me.