Jack O'Malley Interview w/ Dave Richey
Bad things can happen when it rains hard. Equally bad can be a foggy night or the bugs are upstream or down from you. Sloppy casting, a blanket hatch or heavy winds usually do not help anything. However, when all things are clicking proper, it can happen like this.
The night turns hot and close, and silent daggers of heat lightning dance across the blackened sky. Everything is as silent as a hunting owl, except the murmur of the river current tugging at your legs or gliding with a soft hiss under the riverboat.
Hex hatches can provide fast or slow action.
If you are placed just right, and are tossing just the right fly, sometimes from out of nowhere comes the rapier-like strike of one of the river's biggest brown trout. There are people who fish only after dark, and although I do fish during the day, there's something really neat about casting a big streamer, large floating bass bug ora hatch-matching fly to these big fish. All can work on an individual night or may never work. Such nights seem to last forever.
One of the most exciting methods is to use big streamers. Large Muddler Minnows, Buzzsaw and other hefty flies are cast quartering across and downstream, and literally ripped through the water. as fast as you can strip line. You'd think this type of hard-and-fast streamer fishing would spook a wary brown trout. Often, it's just the opposite.
I've talked with several people who have stood under a full moon or a partial moon, made their cast, and began stripping line hard. They tell of large wakes that follow the streamer, and on occasion, those big trout will hit and nearly wrench the rod from your hands. This is not finesse fishing but hard-core fishing. Sore shoulders are common.
Four of us floated the AuSable River one evening, and one angler hit a big fish. The take sounded like someone had thrown a big dog in the river, and the fish ripped off line, rolled on top several times, headed upstream and back down, and there was no controlling the fish. It slipped the fly after nearly 10 minutes of nonstop action.
This is no place for dainty rods and light tippets. Anglers who practice this method (it also works during the day) know just how much work it is. The constant casting, and stripping of line, becomes very tiring but some people can do it all night. Not me!
Fly fish or cast plugs. Both work!
I used to fish the Sturgeon River years ago when it held some good trout, and I liked a big, white, hairy deer-hair mouse. It stuck out like a big sore thumb on a dark night, and even I could see it. I'd cast across stream, let in swim when using a streamer or mend the line when fishing a dry fly.
It's almost time for the big brown trout to turn on after sundown. It happens this way almost every year once the Hex hatches end.
The night turns hot and close, and silent daggers of heat lightning dance across the blackened sky. Everything is silent except the murmur of the river current tugging at your legs or gliding with a soft hiss under the riverboat.
If you are placed just right, and are tossing just the right fly, sometimes from out of nowhere comes the rapier-like strike of one of the rivers biggest brown trout. There are people who fish only after dark, and although I do fish during the day, there's something about casting a big streamer, large floating bass bug or even a more colorful streamer to these big fish. Some folks also enjoy working a hole or run with a four-inch Rapala or Rebel and fairly stout monofilament.
One of the most exciting methods is to use big streamers. Large Muddler Minnows, Buzzsaw and other hefty flies are cast quartering across and downstream, and literally ripped through the water. You'd think this type of hard-and-fast streamer fishing would spook a wary brown trout. Often, it's just the opposite.
I've talked with several people who have stood under a full moon or a partial moon, made their cast, and began stripping line hard. They tell of large wakes that follow the streamer, and on occasion, those big trout will hit and nearly wrench the rod from your hands.
Four of us floated the AuSable River one evening, and one of the anglers hit a big fish. The take sounded like someone had thrown a big dog in the river, and the fish ripped off line, rolled on top several times, headed upstream and back down, and there was no controlling the fish. It slipped the fly after nearly 10 minutes of nonstop action.
Choose fishing tackle wisely.
This is no place for dainty rods and light tippets. Anglers who practice this method (it also works during the day) know just how much work it is. The constant casting, and stripping of line, becomes very tiring but some people can do it all night. Not me!
I used to fish the Sturgeon River years ago when it held some good trout, and I liked a big, white, hairy deer-hair mouse. It stuck out like a big sore thumb on a dark night, and even I could see it. I'd cast across and downstream, mend the line to obtain the longest drag-free drift as possible, twitch it once or twice, and then cast again.
The neat thing about this method was the strikes were visible, and very few fish under four pounds were hooked. The largest that I recall was caught by the late George Yontz, who owned the old Hillside Cabins just north of Wolverine many years ago. His fish, if my memory holds true after all these years, weighed 13 1/2 pounds.
The Sturgeon River browns, back then, were either silvery fish that ran upstream from Burt Lake or the great golden-brown fish with big hooked jaws and a kype as big around as the smallest joint on your little finger. Some kypes were an inch to nearly two inches long.
One other method was practiced on these big fish. Casting a medium-sized Rapala or Rebel quartering across and downstream, and let it dive and wiggle on a tight line. Once the current carried the lure across stream until it hung directly below the angler on a tight line, the rod tip would be jiggled two or three times.
Some walleyes were in the river at times, and it was easy to determine which fish was hitting the lure. A walleye would tap-tap-tap the lure as it swung in the current, and hit softly once it finished its drift. A big brown trout would hit the lure hard, and a strike could come at the end of the drift or as soon as the lure hit the water.
The trick, regardless of which method was used, was to wade down two or three stretches of river in the daytime. Learn where it was safe to wade and where it wasn't. Getting caught in too much current, or tripping over submerged debris, could make night fishing adventure far more interesting than most anglers would like.
Hot, muggy nights were usually the best. The mosquitoes would be on the prod, and any exposed skin would provide a meal.
But hooking a six-pound or larger brown trout after dark is just about as much fun as a fisherman can have while wearing waders. There were a few very special nights where two or three big fish were landed, but most people considered hooking one big fish a rare treat.
Put them back, and try for it again next year. Those big fish aren't very good to eat, and they deserve to be caught more than once. Fooling the fish, and enjoying the battle, is what brings us back year after year.The neat thing about this method was the strikes were visible, and very few fish under four pounds were hooked. The largest that I recall was caught by the late George Yontz of Wolverine, who owned the old Hillside Cabins just north of Wolverine years ago. His fish, if my memory holds true after all these years, weighed 13 1/2 pounds.
The Sturgeon River browns, back then, were either silvery fish that ran upstream from Burt Lake or the great golden-brown native fish with big hooked jaws and a kype as big around as the smallest joint on your little finger. Some kypes were an inch to nearly two inches long.
One other method was practiced on these big fish. Casting a medium-sized Rapala or Rebel quartering across and downstream, and let it dive and wiggle on a tight line. Once the current carried the lure across stream until it hung directly below the angler on a tight line, the rod tip would be jiggled two or three times.This fish-producing method can not be used on the state's flies-only waters.
Some walleyes were in the river at times, and it was easy to determine which fish was hitting the lure. A walleye would tap-tap-tap the lure as it swung in the current, and hit softly once it finished its drift. A big brown trout would hit the lure hard, and a strike could come at the end of the drift or as soon as the lure hit the water.
The trick, regardless of which method was used, was to wade down two or three stretches of river in the daytime. Learn where it was safe to wade and where it wasn't. Getting caught in too much current, or tripping over submerged logs or being stuck in boot-sucking mud, could make night fishing adventure far more interesting than most anglers would like.
Hot, muggy nights were usually the best. The mosquitoes would be on the prod, and any exposed skin would provide a meal.
But hooking a six-pound or larger brown trout after dark is just about as much fun as a fisherman can have while wearing waders. There were a few very special nights where two or three big fish were landed, but most people considered hooking one big fish a rare treat.
Put the big fish back, and try for it again next year. Those big fish aren't very good to eat, and they deserve to be caught more than once. Fooling the fish, and enjoying the battle, is what brings us back year after year to a darkened river during the Hex hatch and when the bugs are not present.
