Most times I fished on those rocks, he sat
just back from the water watching the water and anglers, puffing
on his pipe. The old man looked to be in his seventies. He usually
said very little, but time and many meetings finally dragged out
gruff greetings.
This day just he and me occupied the rock ledge.
He watched as yet again I fired out the lure and yet again without
interruption retrieved it.
Finally he could hold his tongue no longer. "Cast
along the edges of the rocks, along the white water," he
advised.
"But all the grown-ups cast straight out,"
me, then a boy, replied.
"That’s why you, and they, don’t catch any
fish! The fish you seek use the white water to disguise themselves
from their prey," he advised.
What I was doing was not working, so I tried it,
and two or five casts later a kahawai
hit the lure. I landed that and several others over the course
of the next hour or so.
Then the lure was followed by a dark green torpedo.
The rocks beat the kingi in
the race for the lure, and it turned away, unwilling to cross
that finishing line. I fired out another cast and this time a
kingi, maybe the same one, maybe not, jumped on.
My light tackle, and light novice skills were not
up to this challenge. Just before my line was stripped from the
spool, the line parted and that pretty much was that.
"Bad luck," said the old man, " but
at least you learned something today. Find the edges find the
fish."
Now out of line, I packed up my gear for the walk
back to my bike. The old man accompanied me as we walked off the
rocks, and along the beach.
On the way he quietly explained to me about fishing
the edges. He told me that most of the sea was a desert, as barren
and devoid of life as any dry sand desert. Life could only exist
where food was concentrated.
A few months later, this time on a river.
My fly fishing skills were still embryonic at best,
but I was flailing away with dogged endeavour. In terms of covering
all the nearby water with my lures I figured I deserved a fish,
but the fish strongly disagreed. They remained very tight lipped
about the whole business.
During a break to munch some sandwiches another
wise old head who watched my flailings and failings, offered some
advice.
He pointed out areas where currents joined. The
scum line, once explained, showed clearly the edges of the currents.
"Fish along the edges of those current lines,"
he advised. "Fish will hold there, letting the currents concentrate
the food in one place."
I tried his advice, and it worked. As my casting
skills and line control improved my ability to drift a fly along
the edge of currents improved, and so did the number of fish I
hooked.
Fishing some of the lakes near Christchurch in summer
can be a frustrating exercise. The weed banks along the edges
are thick and lush. Hooking up on weed was a constant annoyance.
So I figured that casting straight out into the lake over and
away from the weed would solve that problem, and of course it
did. I collected very little weed, and no fish.
Another mentor appeared. This time younger, probably
in his late twenties. A guide, and with one eye on his American
clients, he took pity on this youngster, and explained about fishing
along the edges of the weed banks.
He told me how trout cruise along the edges of the
weed bank picking off nymphs and small bait fish. Casting straight
out into the lake meant that my lure was only in the area where
fish were for a very short period of time. Casting along and as
parallel as possible to the edge of the weed placed my lure in
fish holding water for the maximum time.
This new piece of information was put into practice,
and yielded a good fish. A good enough fish, for the guide’s clients
to enquire good naturedly whether I might want to share in the
cost of the guide.
A decade and a bit later, and forty years ago I
endured several trips out from the Bay of Islands, towing dead
skip-baits in
the vain hope of a marlin. The only thing I learnt on these trips was how susceptible
I was to sea sickness, and how a young twenty-year-old can let macho pride and a big
dose of stupity override the more sensible option of taking a dose of sea sickness tablets.
Then I was invited out with a very strong minded,
and as it transpired well practised American. His strong will
and obvious knowledge finally conquered the charter skippers firm
dockside resolve to fish with skip baits, and lures were rigged
to the rods. If the skipper’s resolve to use skip baits was strong,
his opposition to the fishing methods proposed by the American
was stronger.
Not for the American the usual practice of the day
of motoring straight out from Cape Brett to the 200 metre depth line
and starting fishing. No, he wanted a different tack, and only
after much heated discussion about who was paying the piper, got
his way.
We motored about until we found where both a marked
colour change and weed line that provided clear evidence of a
distinct current edge. We then put out the lures and commenced
a zigzag trolling pattern, crossing in and out of the warm water
into the cold. Six strikes, and three fish landed, on a day when
no other boat caught anything gave our skipper some boasting material
in the bar, and a new found enthusiasm for fishing the edges using
lures. Mind you there was some non-believers in the crowd, after
all the American insisted on releasing all the fish, very much
non-standard practice back then. Marlin on the gantry was the
norm, and generally accepted as the only proof positive of success.
There is a rule that governs the life of all predators
in the sea. (Actually the rule covers all predators in the sea,
land, and air.) The energy used to catch food cannot be greater
than the energy the food caught provides. If the energy used to
catch food is greater than that the food provides, the predator
will eventually die.
The trick to finding concentrations of predators,
and most of the fish we seek are predators, (big-game fish, trout,
snapper, kingis, etc. are all predators), is to find concentrations
of food for baitfish and other critters that feed on minute critters.
Little fish get eaten by bigger fish who get eaten by bigger….
In open water feed is simply too widespread to be
viable as food source.
Anything in the sea, lake or river that concentrates
feed in to a confined area, either by geography, i.e. reefs, weed
beds, foul ground, headlands, etc. will concentrate the fish that feed on the feed so to speak. So will
currents, especially the points where currents meet or merge,
or are turned by obstacles.
In the game fishing scene this concept of fishing
the edges has taken a new twist. With the aid of sea temperature
charts, sometimes faxed to the boat, skippers are able to locate
‘warm water eddies’. These eddies are patches of warm water that
spin off from the main current. These eddies provide a prime source
of food for predators. Relatively small in size, and constrained
by the cold water that surrounds the eddy, baitfish are trapped
in a smorgasbord that provides prime pickings.
Some studies suggest that warm water eddies hold
the maximum number of game fish. Find these eddies that spin off
the huge ocean currents and you should find fish.
This ‘eddy theory’ may go a long way to explaining
why marlin are often found in patches, patches that move in a
sometimes not too obvious relationship to the main current. This
can be because the eddy actually spins out and away, in counter
rotation to the main current direction
Eddies that spin off main currents and concentrate
feed can be found in rivers and lakes. Brown trout, big brown
trout particularly, are well known to take over deep eddy pools,
where they can feed on the food that is spun off into their territory
from the main current. They use their size and strength to bully smaller fish out of
these prime feeding lies, (lies as where the fish lie.)
On lakes strong winds blowing around headlands can
produce wind eddies on the lee side of the headland where concentrations
of wind blown insects cover the water. Trout feed greedily in
these eddies.
Most of the ocean, sea and river, is empty of predators.
The reason is simple there is no good reason for them to be there,
because there is little or no prey. Find the edges where feed
and the fish that feed on the food are, and you will find predators.
Fishing on the edge is productive fishing.