Fly Fishing Kona - Redux (Part 1 of 2)

Local Refreshment

When I first returned to the Big Island back in 2004 (after a 30 year absence), I had planned to do what most tourists do--lie on the beach, do a little body surfing and generally relax. Fishing was an afterthought--so much so that I didn't pack any gear or flies, hoping instead to purchase what I needed once there. Unfortunately any hopes of finding gear or flies were dashed soon after my arrival--the island has no fly fishing gear for sale at all. On that first trip I made do with a bamboo pole, a spool of 8lb mono, and a couple of pink hoochies I picked up at the local Walmart.

Local Colour

Since that first foray into fishing the local waters along the Kona and Kohala coastlines, I've returned four times. Each subsequent trip has brought improvements to my state of preparedness, with better and better gear, new techniques, specifically designed flies and most importantly--local knowledge. This last trip was no exception and prior to my arrival I tied well over two hundred flies, packed three rods, reels and a half dozen lines. I scoured the net for information on the Island, discovered new fly patterns used on Oahu, Pitcairn and Christmas Islands, and generally researched all I could about my target species for this trip--bonefish. Going in I was pretty confident that I had all the bases covered... or so I thought.


Details, Details:

This visit took place a little earlier than my previous ones, commencing in late November and lasting until the 19th of December. During that time I was fortunate to have about three dedicated "days" of fishing, three half days, and ten or so shorter outings. This was actually a little less than my previous trip, but the time spent on the dedicated days was much more focused on known locations rather than on exploring and scouting new spots.

Rocky Kailua Shoreline

The weather, as always, held few surprises. With the exception of two evenings and a single day of rain, the temperature remained reasonably constant at about 24 degrees Celsius with the winds and surf relatively low and calm up to the last week. I probably shouldn't say "few surprises" as the weather proved uncommonly good in terms of fishing conditions. Normally the biggest issue with fly fishing in the region is the oft-times relentless wind. With breezes peaking in the 10-20 knot region on most days, the need for heavy rods and aggressive tapers was reduced. In fact my eight weight Sage XP stayed dry for the duration of the trip and I opted instead to rely on my more moderate action seven weight Scott S3 for most fishing situations.

Coronet Fish

My shorter trips were concentrated around the village of Kailua, not too far from the condo I stay at. The shoreline in the area is mostly restricted to lava shelves, tide pools and rough lava outcroppings broken very occasionally by small sand beaches. All areas south of the main village are exposed to direct surf with the exception of the snorkeling beach at the far end of Ali'i Drive. I've had some success in the past fishing submerged shelves and ledges in the area on previous visits--taking both grouper and trevally--but on this trip this shoreline did not seem to have the same numbers of fish about. Spots that had fished well in the past produced fewer fish and none of the larger species I was hoping to catch. With the exception of one larger snapper that shook the hook, I was limited to catching smaller reef fish and the common coronet fish.

My three "day trips" focused on what are key spots to encounter bonefish: Anaeho'omalu Bay (also called mercifully A-Bay), Kiholo Bay and the Kaloko-Honokohau National Historic Park.

Rough Trail

Kiholo bay was my first day trip. It was here that I caught my first (albeit tiny) bonefish during a previous visit. Kiholo bay is reached by a 20 minute hike down a rough lava based trail. Along the trail you will see flocks of feral goats an rough gnarled trees that narrowly escaped an eruption in the late 1800s. The trail emerges just to the south of the main bay, and another fifteen minutes of walking along the beach gets you to heart of the bay. Watch out for the turtles as the beach and bay itself are usually packed with them. Another warning: much of the land fronting the beach is private and although there is rarely any occupants about it is best to stick to the shoreline.

Black Sand Flats

Kiholo Bay has a large fresh/salt water lagoon formed by a natural aquifer at its heart. Flanked on one side by the rough shoreline and on the other by a finger of lava and beach, the beautiful azure lagoon is protected from the ocean waves. At the south end of the lagoon is a small island which guards its mouth. Between this island and the shore you will find one of the few natural sand flats on Hawaii. Its here you will see bonefish, milkfish, trevally, coronet fish, sea turtles and if you're unlucky the occasional 10' tiger shark. The water at the mouth is shallow and quite wadable, but the fish are easily spooked in the tight confines of the small flat, so patience and low profile casting is required. This isn't easy fishing, and all it takes are a few poor casts to put the fish off the flat and into the deep water outside the mouth.

Blue Fin Trevally

Unfortunately, during my visit I wasn't able to convince any individuals from the small school of bonefish I encountered to take the fly. I was also frustrated by the numerous lava boulders that seem to litter the small flats--losing flies on successive casts certainly tries the patience. The one or two individual bones I found cruising the flats were almost inevitably too close to me by the time I spotted them--and aside from a single large fish that followed, took and spit my fly before I could set the hook, I blanked on the bonefish. Luckily the deeper water to the south of the small island provided some consolation and I managed to pick up a few small trevally, coronets, and needlefish.This is an area I often leave until the end of a trip (mostly because you're casting blind), but it would be worth spending more time as there is a natural deep water slot that forms a travel lane for fish.

The second of my day trips was to Anaeho'omalu Bay, a beautiful sand beach surrounded by the Waikaloa Resort. At most times of the day this beach is packed with the well heeled clientèle from the hotel and hoi paloi from less exclusive spots along the coast, but in the early morning at sunrise the beach is generally deserted. I shouldn't be quite so tongue in cheek about the resort. They have restored and maintained at least two ancient fish ponds between the hotel proper and the beach front and they are also responsible for the construction and maintenance of the shower and change facilities at the south end of the beach. The bay is very popular with snorkelers and families playing in the protected waters, so any fishing trips need to take place either early in the dawn light or later around dusk.

Needle Fish

Schools of baitfish are common over most of the beach front and the blue fin trevally and even giant trevally patrol the drop off just out from the beach. At low tide it is easy to cast into this shelf zone and target the cruising trevally as they ambush passing bait balls, but it is a wide stretch of beach and being at exactly the right point can be a hit and miss affair. At high tide the sandy beach becomes the perfect place to prospect for bonefish, but the best spot to set up watch for them is an inlet channel built to allow water access to the fish ponds at the north end of the beach. Here the bones (usually solitary fish or pairs) will cruise along a regular circuit. The catch-22 about this position is that the water is deeper here and getting a fly in front of the passing bonefish is extremely difficult. Add to this a fly consuming lava shelf bottom as opposed to sand and you've got a recipe for real frustration. I think the best solution would be to have one person spotting the fish from the vantage of the inlet channel walls, and another further down the beach waiting to cast to the approaching fish.

Lizard Fish

I scored another bonefish blank on my trip here and the best I could muster was a few large coronet fish and a dozen of the vicious little lizard fish. I was told by a local guide in the waning days of my trip that the ponds (full of bonefish and milkfish) can be fished with a fly or bread bait, but I was not able to confirm this before departing. The bay is a lovely spot for bringing the family, but it has been regularly frustrating for me on each of my visits.

(continued)  Link to Part 2/2

Fly Fishing Kona - Redux (Part 2 of 2)

Link to Part 1/2

My final day trip was to the Kaloko-Honokohau National Historic Park. This park is situated to the north of the modern Honokohau harbour, and encompasses an ancient Hawai'ian harbour and at least three ancient fish ponds. It has an interpretive site and a recreation of a traditional Hawai'ian boat storage hut, but for the most part it is still fairly natural with the exception of the port-a-potties at the south end. The ancient harbour is a shallow bottomed area protected from the sea by a natural point and an ancient man made sea wall. There are two rock pens that were probably used at one time to hold the daily catch. A mile or more of lava shelves and tide pools stretches to the north of this area and just inland are two ancient fish ponds--at least one of which (the Kaloko Fishpond) is being fully restored.

The ancient harbour bed is home to good numbers of bonefish, but the bottom is not very fly friendly. In fact on my day trip visit and subsequent shorter trips I continually lost fly after fly. It didn't seem to help if they were heavily weighted or unweighted, the fishing gods demanded a sacrifice of flies. It was only during my last stop at this spot that I was able to find a fly that wouldn't catch on every cast--the bendback. These had to be properly constructed, but my losses dropped substantially--even if my catch rate didn't go up. Here again I had to make do with catching a few small trevally and the omnipresent cornet fish.

Outside of the ancient harbour, the mile of beach to the north offers lots of possibilities. Provided the wind is low and the surf is manageable you can wade out some distance and cast beyond the reef edge into deeper water. It's also fun to chase the small trevally, coronet and various reef fish that haunt the flats. Oddly enough small orange and gold flies work well as attractors here as do the usual subdued streamers I favour. On most weekends this area is frequented by locals using lay nets and spinning gear.

Small Trevally

This year, for the first time I took a trip to the Kaloko fish pond at the northern limit of the park. I've walked down the beach towards the pond in the past, but had never actually reached it. I discovered that there is a rough access road off the highway just before the Costco turn-off heading north. The areas where you are allowed to fish are very limited and the water is shallow and brackish, but the pond is choked with milkfish and bones. I was only able to spend an hour here, but aside from snagging the usual fly-eating lava boulders I was finally able to hook up with my first serious gamefish of the trip--a milkfish. Now I can almost hear the snickering, but the milkfish (similar to ladyfish in the Caribbean) are incredible fighters and leapers and every bit as powerful as the bones I later encountered. I was fortunate enough to tag two of these brutes in the 8-12lb range, but unfortunate to have them both shake the fly after some tremendous leaps. A word to the wise about these fish: there are two species, only one of which will (reluctantly) take a lure. So if you find a large concentration and don't get a hook-up or even a follow, you may be calling on the wrong party.

Big Fish Story

East Dock

The last three outings of my trip were early morning affairs and involved getting up before dawn and heading to Honokohau Harbour. There, well away from the surf and in between the docks and charter boats, I found pods of milkfish, goatfish, trevally and big mostly solitary bones cruising just above the bottom. This is not my idea of a "destination" fly fishing spot, but time was tight and the fish were there. For the next three days the ritual became get up at five, fish by six, and back by ten.

The water in the inner east end of the harbour is relatively shallow--in the range of 18' to 25' depending on the tides. There are really only two good spots to get a somewhat clear cast in this area: from the shoreside connecting arm of the east dock or the end of the far eastern finger of the dock.  Here it's necessary to use either a full sink, a sink tip or a shooting head system. I used a 15' type VIII sinking tip and a narrow running line with a countdown retrieve at both locations. Weighted bugs as opposed to streamers were the order of the day, but even here with the mixed mud bottom the snags were such that if the fly touched down there was at least a one in six chance of losing it to a snag--as typical of most harbours, this one has a range of debris waiting to grab the unsuspecting fly.

East End

Until I got the gauge of the depth and how long I needed to count down the best I was able to manage was to interest a few of the colourful reef fish to follow and nip at my fly, but once I got the depth, fly and retrieve figured out I was rewarded with a tantalizing quick tug. Upon retrieving my line I saw that whatever had hit, had hit hard enough to part the 8lb mono tippet I was using. At that point I should have jumped up significantly, but instead I switched to 10lb fluorocarbon. After three or four casts I had another fish on, this one ran about 5 yards before the leader let go. Keep in mind that I had only enough drag on the reel to stop it from backlashing, so it was only the drag of the line in the water that was allowing the fish to break off. With my good flies lost to fish or snags and the time nearing ten, I returned to the condo and went surfing with my kids.

Barred Goatfish

I came equipped for my second visit to the harbour armed with heavier tippet and another four of the successful fly patterns from the previous day. After losing my second fish so quickly, I immediately went with four feet of the 12lb Ultragreen mono. It was tough getting any action in the early hours, but fishing off the eastern finger I was finally able to hook into something with a bit of strength--a 12" barred goatfish. This well marked fish is very similar to bonefish in terms of its feeding habits (mostly crustaceans) and overall shape. I was pleasantly surprised but its dogged fight--a bit like a fighting a large powerful brook trout with lots of fast downward pulls. I picked a second one up before returning to the spot I had fished from the previous day and finally tagged another bonefish. This time when the bonefish took the fly the line didn't part and the fish took off like a rocket. It made it about 40 yards when suddenly the line went slack. Now I'm not a religious man, but I'm surprised the gates of hell didn't open under my feet and suck me down given the amount of swearing I was doing. When I finally retrieved my line I discovered that the leader had held just fine but the #6 Mustad 3407 hook had straightened during the blistering run. Resigned I returned home to tye a few flies and take another crack at it the following morning.

Opened Hook (after attempting to reshape it)

Day three came and I was sure I had the equation solved, I had tied a half dozen flies on the heavier and larger Tiemco 811s hook. The drag was non-existent on my reel and all knots tested and tight. Again fishing in the early hours was slow with only two lost hooks to show for my efforts. I returned to the eastern end of the dock and managed to catch another goatfish and a puffer fish for my troubles. When I headed back to the centre dock it took only two casts to hook into the bonefish. This time it took and didn't stop until it ran out of room at the far end of the harbour, as it slowed I applied the pressure and brought it back. Again it shot off and again I got it back. It took a third run and this time I felt it starting to run out of steam. Trembling I brought it back towards me, prepared for another run but hoping that the fish was ready to come to hand. As I began to lift the fish slowly towards me, it found its wind again and hurtled off snapping the twelve pound leader cleanly at some invisible weak point. This time there was no swearing, just shocked silence. I reeled in and went back to the condo to have a cold beer and pack.

Puffer Fish

Final Notes:

Overall the vacation was a success but the fishing obviously less so. It may have been a question of timing, tides or temperature, but the fishing seemed slower than on previous visits. Tagging into the bonefish and milkfish were a real treat, but that trophy shot eluded me. Maybe next time...

The lessons learned on this trip included using stronger and sharper hooks, more bendback patterns (both bugs and streamers), stronger and more varied leaders, and to generally spend more time on the water.

I will detail my "Leggy Blond" bonefish pattern in a subsequent post, in the meantime below are a few general shots from around the island.

Aaron

South Kiholo Bay

Beach Access to Kiholo

Sargent Fish

Typical Fly Eating Lava

Hibiscus

Wrasse

Family Hamming it up with Papya in Front of Fish Pond

Line Review - Cortland Sylk (4 seasons on)

I'll be the first to admit that I am not a huge fan of many of the fly lines made or distributed by Cortland. However, there are a few gems in their line-up including the old school 444 (Peach), the 444sl Camo Clear, and the more recently added 444 Sylk.

The Sylk line initially received a lot of press as a synthetic silk line substitute. It's slightly stiff makeup, thin diameter and subtly mottled finish apparently does a passable imitation of the real thing, but it wasn't any of these features that drew me to the product. Indeed, my interest was only aroused when I watched an episode of the locally produced Sportsfishing BC. In it the host peeled the Sylk line off the reel in bitterly cold weather to demonstrate how it "pooled" on the deck of the pram without coiling. Having suffered through many lines that coil like slinkies in the cold (including other Cortland offerings), I was immediately smitten.

After a fruitless search in the local shops I had one of them order the line from the distributor. This turned out to be a crucial mistake as the line took four months to arrive (I discovered later that "small" orders through the Canadian distributors were only shipped with larger purchases and my line fell victim to this problem). Not content to wait, I went on-line and was fortunate to find Herndon rods across the line in Washington state who stocked the line as a complement to their custom bamboo rods.

One line out of the box looks very much like another in most cases, but the Sylk line was a bit different. Unlike most modern lines the first thing that struck me was the subtle cloth-like texture to the finish of the line. The mottled olive gold colouration was also a contrast with the generally brighter monochromatic fly lines available. A quick crimp test on the line indicated no significant "instant" memory issues, and the line diameter was as thin as promised.

On the reel the Sylk line performs as promised with respect to line memory. Even after being spooled on a small diameter Hardy Flyweight for an extended period, the line comes off the reel without coiling. The line shoots very well out of the box and with only the occasional cleaning it has continued to do so for the past four seasons. Its casting profile is definitely enhanced by the relatively narrow line diameter and good weight/length ratio, and on the medium to medium-fast action graphite rods I favour it casts very well. I have tried both WF and DT designs and while I rarely have to cast them any distance, I would give the slight edge to the WF design for my casting style with higher weight rods and the DT for the light and ultralight rods (profile information is available here ).


The Sylk line has a lot of advantages over other floating line varieties, but some of these same advantages also create shortcomings. For example, while the line is an excellent cold water/weather performer, it doesn't do as well in the heat of summer and some have complained that it becomes "sticky" in the heat. While I don't live in a climate where this is a significant issue, I could see this being a problem in areas where the average summer temperature is the high 20's (Celsius) and above. Another issue is with regard to the narrow line diameter, which results in a low floating line--definitely a consideration for some presentations. A final issue of note is with regard to the coating on the line. While this makes for a low memory line, it also means that it doesn't stand up to abuse from abrasion, nicks and the occasional boot against the rocks.

I think it's safe to say that the perfect "all-purpose" line has yet to be invented, and given the variety of rods and fishing conditions out there, I don't think I would want one. For my part I have found the Sylk line works very well on most of the slower traditional action graphite rods and softer tip nymphing rods that I own (eg. Scott g-series, Sage SP & VPS-light, Grey's Streamflex, et al). I particularly like this line for small cold water streams with tight cover that require fairly accurate casts over shorter distances. Based on it's narrow diameter, low floating characteristics and subtle low memory construction, I feel this line is best suited to dry and wet fly presentations in moving water conditions. While I occasionally use this line for stillwater applications in the five and six weight range (particularly in cold weather), higher floating more aggressively tapered lines are perhaps better suited to most stillwater fishing conditions.

Aaron

A Tale of Two Caddis

Well. It's been a long winter season.

Throughout the period since my last post I have been concentrating the majority of my fishing opportunities on the local coastal cutthroat in the streams in and around the lower mainland of BC. Unfortunately trips have been limited as one weather system after another has blown in off the Pacific and blown out the local waters. I could have switched over to swinging for steelhead, but I've got issues with rejection, and while the stillwaters fish slowly throughout the winter months here, my interest in honing my stream fishing technique has kept me focused on moving water.

Luckily the weather is slowly turning, and the frequency of the Pacific weather systems hammering our coast has slowly decreased. Over the past few weeks or so I've managed several short outings, and I'm gradually seeing increasing signs of insect life and fry movement. While the march browns (pictured at left) poked their antennae above the waters surface as early as February this year, it is only with the warming sun that the fish have begun to shake off the lethargy of the winter months and really begin to get aggressive about feeding.

This talk of insects and activity brings me to the subject for this entry: imitating net building and free living caddis larvae. These two caddis types are quite ubiquitous on on almost all streams along BC's south coast, and for that matter on most of the cleaner cold water streams around the world. The fact that they are a protein rich food item available year round can not be overlooked when it comes to creating and carrying effective fly patterns.

On a recent trip to the river I took the time to turn over a few rocks and examine some specimens. I have done this numerous times before, but it almost always pays to reacquaint yourself with the real insect before sitting down a the bench to do a little tying. Starting from this basis it becomes much easier to look at designing an effective imitation or at least a suggestive one. Of course other considerations impact the features you incorporate into a fly, not the least of which is the target water and species--for example, targeting cutthroat in a reasonably brisk, deeply stained brown/olive stream with relatively good visibility, shallow riffles, rock weirs and long pools (in short, my local water).

I tend to rely on two styles of flies when fishing net building or free living caddis nymphs. Both involve the use of weight to present the flies at or near the bottom of the water column, both rely on similar colour schema to match the natural, and both utilize a scud style nymph hook to match the natural curved orientation of the drifting insect. Where they differ is in the profile and application.

First up is the somewhat imitative fly shown next to the natural at right. This fly, very much a standard Czech nymph, does what a good Czech nymph should do-i.e. its narrow profile cuts through the water quickly and once there rides point up. It's also fairly realistic and works well in the slightly deeper water at the pool heads and along the seams where a long controlled drift is sometimes called for. The colour pattern seems to work well, balancing the flashy kelly green rib against the somber dark olive squirrel for a fly that is neither too bright or too dark.

The fly at left, again pictured with the the natural, employs very much the same materials as the preceding one with the addition of a small gold tungsten bead and a silver badger hackle. I call this a White Water Caddis, but the pattern is very generic and similar to many coming from the benches of western North American fly tyers. I say "western" fly tyers, because in the words of one such tyer, "in the American West we fish a lot of tumbling, sometimes roaring waters. A normal day on a mountain stream or canyon river can be as much about the exercise as about the fishing." In such waters a strong attractive profile, particularly for smaller flies, is often called for. This fly follows that mold and its rough exterior and hackle provide that extra dose of movement as it's pulled through the white water riffles and into foaming plunge pools.

Well. There you have it--a tale of two caddis, or rather a tale of one caddis and two flies. My point is not to suggest that one is better than the other (in fact both took an equal number of fish on my last outing in different water), the point is that by drawing together the disparate elements of observed insects and conditions, an understanding of the physical characteristics of various materials and constructions, and an almost intuitive sense of what fish key on, you can design (or choose) a fly style which will match the situation at hand... and by grace, catch you a few bright beauties.

Aaron

***

Net Spinner Czech Nymph

• Hook: #18-#14 Mustad 49s
• Underbody: Flattened .015" lead wire (2 layers)
• Thread: 12/0 Olive
• Over rib: 0X Fluorocarbon
• Shellback: Olive scud-back
• Rib: Kelly green mylar embroidery material
• Body: Dark olive squirrel dubbing
• Thorax: Black synthetic dubbing (cut short)
• Tint: Olive pantone marker on body shellback, black over thorax

White Water Caddis

• Hook: #18-#16 Mustad 49s
• Bead: Gold or black tungsten 3/32"
• Underbody: .015" Lead wire (6-8 wraps behind bead)
• Thread: 12/0 Olive
• Rib: Kelly green mylar embroidery material
• Body: Dark olive squirrel dubbing
• Hackle: Coq de leon hen (silver badger)
• Thorax: as body (to hide thread)