Fly by Night

PDF | Print | E-mail

Written by Chase Cornell Sunday, 25 July 2010 10:54

The buzz of a street light at the public park on the adjacent bank of the canal was the only noise.  A hydra glow light illuminated a green sphere of water around a dock piling off the bow.  Shrimp flipped on the surface and ladyfish thrashed the surface all around the boat.  The wind over my shoulder, 8wt. Orvis fly rod in hand as I gazed into the light and began to make out the shapes of snook and tarpon.

In the final moments as the boat drifted silently into position, I took a few deep breaths and began my cast.  The clear fly line looped crisply through the guides of the rod and sizzled from the deck of the Maverick Mirage, narrowly missing my big toe.  So many times the line snags the trolling motor or gets carried by the wind away from its desired destination, but this night the cast was in uniform.  The small baitfish pattern lobbed softly into the shadow behind the light.

Fish were now moving in every direction under the light.  The sound of the fly landing in the sweet spot had them ready to strike.  One strip, two strips, and the fly emerged into the light with a tiny flash in the green glow.  Out of the darkness a twelve pound snook streaked across the surface and devoured the fly like it was the last snickers bar on the face of the Earth.  I kept stripping until I felt it come tight and the fish came out of the water, gill rakes rattling the night air, sending echoes down the canal.  The fish reentered the water and headed straight for the pilings.

Snook are my favorite fish because they are truly masters of their environment.  I survived the first jump, but now the fish was trying to take me into the dock, his barnacle and oyster laden residence.  Even a strong fluorocarbon leader is no match for such a place.  Holding on to the fly line with my left hand, like an invisible lasso to a wild stallion, the fish again bucked into the air.  This time as the gills roused the night air, the small fly dislodged and was spat from the open mouth of the enraged fish as it jumped two more times as if to say to me, “Not tonight.”

That was one of the bigger snook I have hooked under the lights.  For me, fly fishing is all about attitude and focus.  There are so many variables that can adversely affect the presentation of a fly under a light.  The fundamental aspects of the presentation are not dissimilar from bass fishing while flipping to a specific limb on a fallen tree; if you do not present the offering in a pinpoint spot, you will elicit a strike.  Without a mindset that is completely devoted to achieving a perfect presentation, the other complications involved with fishing for snook on fly become infinitely more perilous.

I had played out the entire scenario in my head.  Unfortunately, the fish had a different idea for the ending.  The fishing was genuine that night because tide, wind and current were all working to create a perfect opportunity for throwing a fly.  So many nights the wind is too strong or the current is not flowing enough to make the fish interested enough to eat.

We fished for three hours that night, tying on at least eight different patterns and casting until our eyes grew heavy with the weight of the witching hour.  The night was etched with ferocious strikes, frayed leaders and big smiles.  It was one of those precious nights that only the Indian River Lagoon yields.  When days are hot and long, try fly fishing the lights for snook and tarpon, you just might find the lime light enjoyable!

Quick Tip:

We have found that fishing on the Treasure Coast in the evenings can produce a great Snook bite. More specifically, the docks in Stuart, Florida are loaded with green dock lights. If you know a  good place to fly fish under the lights, make sure to comment below!