A First Timer’s Thoughts on Fly Fishing Nantucket (And Other Things)
There was an unspoken agreement, unprotested by either of us and confirmed by Jack’s lay into the throttle: We were going for it.
There was an unspoken agreement, unprotested by either of us and confirmed by Jack’s lay into the throttle: We were going for it.
The air temperatures were measuring in the single digits, and in the back of my mind I knew this was the coldest weather I’d ever fished in.
Small interactions and discoveries on painfully slow days are the kinds of things that remind you to stay locked in as an angler.
I prepared to revamp my hunt for some local bass. There was just one mission in the salt I had to complete first.
The clouds lifted as we walked up to the first pond, and the brightened shallows of the mud flat before us were suddenly alive with dozens of waking dark shapes.
There’s an endless supply of rivers and coastline around this place, an inspirational mess of water to pick apart. Sounds like a fun project to me.
Anglers and trout are both masters of efficiency, and have an uncanny skill to survive and thrive on as little as possible.
This inevitably came with a drastic change of scenery, a great deal of culture shock, and, pertaining to this blog, a considerable decline in world class year round fly fishing waters.
Luckily, this dilemma allowed me to develop one of the greatest skills an obsessed fly angler can have— Making a fishing trip appear out of thin air.
Sight fishing for trout can happen across a range of difficulties, but what remains a constant necessity in all scenarios is seeing fish, and the right one at that.