In the first instalment of a 3-part epic, Peter asks, have you spooked the fish?

Have you spooked the fish, making them wary and difficult, or even impossible, to catch?

I recently guided a corporate group of eight anglers who had never flyfished before. In fact, none of them had ever fished for trout. Some had prior experience with saltwater boat fishing, leading them to believe they had an advantage over the novices.

On the first day, we fished at a shallow alpine tarn on a bright, sunny day with light winds. I rotated the anglers in pairs for two hours on my wooden low-profile drift-boat while the others walked the shore and waded in the lagoon.

At the start of the day, I emphasised that trout, particularly brown trout, are very aware of their environment. In bright conditions with light winds and shallow, crystal-clear water, they can be easily spooked and, consequently, difficult to catch. Their territorial nature means they are acutely aware of any changes in their immediate surroundings; anything out of the ordinary will put them on guard.

(I sometimes wish I could tell anglers the the opposite: that trout are hard to scare and easy to catch!)

I suggested to the group that they should blend into their natural surroundings so that the kangaroos, wombats, crows, swans – and especially the trout – were unaware of their presence. I warned them that if one of them jogged along the bank while the others were fishing, I could guarantee that no trout would be caught that day. Every trout within 20 metres of the bank would be spooked, and given their maximum casting range would likely only be about 15 metres, even with their best casts they would not be able to catch any fish. They got the message.

That said, we could prefix everything you read from this point on with, ‘It depends.’ One example that counters this point, is when fishing for trout – particularly rainbows – which have experienced a lot of angling pressure, such as those at some private fisheries, or even on heavily-fished rivers like the Goulburn. They can still be difficult to catch, but surprisingly to me, they will occasionally take a well-presented fly even with the angler visibly standing on the bank.

My corporate job in the wilderness got me thinking: What actions do we take that might prevent fish from eating our flies? Furthermore, what behaviours from other anglers around us might decrease our chances of success? While many actions of other anglers are beyond our control, being aware of these issues allows us to distance ourselves from them, one way or another.

The next time you’re fishing without success, don’t just assume you have the wrong fly or are fishing in the wrong area or using the wrong method. Consider whether the fish might be too spooked to eat your fly. Think about what might be occurring that could scare the trout away. Think about this aspect, before changing your tippet size, fly, fishing method, or location.

Degrees of Spookedness

I suggest there are many degrees of spookedness. When I sight-fish or polaroid the clear alpine lakes of Tasmania, I have many opportunities to witness trout behaviour.

Sometimes I see trout that are completely terrified, bolting long distances and creating big bow-waves. In those situations, I believe those fish cannot be caught for the rest of the day. On the other extreme, there are times when my client and I have set a trap for a cruising trout and blended well into our surroundings. If that fish refuses our fly and becomes slightly spooked or on edge, knowing something isn’t right but unsure what it is, it can often be caught a short time later with a different presentation.

Between these extremes lies everything else. Ideally, you want to fish to trout without giving them any indication that you’re there.

Fly/ leader tension on a take

Very often, when a fish takes your fly, it feels the tension of the fly-line and leader pulling at its mouth. As this sensation never occurs with real food, this can be off-putting and cause the fish to spit out your fly. It is spooked by the feeling.

Imagine if you put a piece of steak in your mouth and it started to wiggle. You would likely spit it out quickly; it’s not what you expected. You’d be hesitant to try another piece shortly after that.

If you have a line-ripping strike after a trout spits your fly, the noise alone will scare it, making it difficult to catch for quite a while. I wouldn’t bother trying for it again that same day.

Trout spooking trout

Trout often scare other trout, sometimes indirectly due to our actions. For example, when wading up a small mountain stream, if we make a few poor casts or scare some small fish in the tail of a pool, those fish typically bolt upstream away from us. Any larger trout at the head of the pool which notice the spooked fish, will at best be on edge and significantly harder to catch; even impossible in some circumstances.

I’ve seen similar behaviour in the bird world. A recent example was a black cormorant working over the fish in my casting pond. I made great efforts to sneak up on the cautious bird with my shotgun. As the cormorant resurfaced, it immediately spotted me and took off.

The following day, I reflected on what happened. When I crept into position overlooking the pool, the noisy miners in the nearby trees began squawking their alarm calls. It was clear that when the cormorant surfaced, it heard the alarm call and fled. The same phenomenon occurs in the world of trout.

Generally, this is not as big an issue when fishing lakes. If you scare or spook a trout, it may bolt off in a specific direction without alarming others at different points around the lake. However, be extra cautious when wading up small streams. If small fish flee upstream, their actions and body language will sound the alarm for sure.

There are exceptions though. Just recently, I was fishing a highland lake with a couple of regular clients. The water temperature and time of year were perfect for abundant food on the trout’s menu. The waters were teeming with water boatmen, stick caddis, damselfly nymphs, mudeyes and mayfly nymphs, which are all prevalent in the highlands of Tasmania in late spring/ early summer.

I cannot tell you how many trout we spooked by placing the fly-line over them (more about this shortly) or due to my clumsy boat and oar handling. However, that was insignificant compared to the number of fish spooked away from our fishing area by other fish. There were simply too many trout competing for a small area of water. As soon as one fish encroached on another’s territory, a chase ensued.

It’s very rare to cast in front of two trout, when one is being chased by the other, and have one of them eat your fly. In such cases, you must be patient and wait for the aggressive nature of the fish to settle down. They will eventually return to their territory and resume normal feeding.

Fly presentation spooks

Fly/ fly-line landing

Great consideration should be given to the quality and effect of every delivery cast. Sometimes, a heavy, noisy fly landing will attract trout and result in an instant take. Conversely, there can be just as many opportunities to scare fish with a noisy fly landing.

Grasshopper season is a time when you want a definitive ‘plop’ as the fly hits the water. However, when trying to catch tailing trout in inches of water at 5 a.m. on a dead calm morning, the last thing you want is a noisy fly landing close by. It will undoubtedly spook them.

Consider how your leader and fly-line land. There’s never a case for allowing a noisy and splatting leader or fly-line to impact the water surface. The ‘crumple, crumple, crumple, splat’ noise is a definite turn-off for any fish. If the water is deep and the surface is irregular with decent-sized waves, you might get away with it.

You should never be satisfied with crash-landed fly-lines, leaders, and flies. Work on your casting – line speed, loop shape, and trajectory – until you can achieve thistledown landings most of the time.

A good way to practice this is on a calm lake. Each time your fly and line land, count the ripple effect. I count, ‘one thousand and one, one thousand and two, one thousand and three,’ etc., for as long as I can see the ripples dissipating. Poor casting results in a ripple effect lasting 30 seconds or longer. With a good delivery, ripples should dissipate within one to two seconds.

This crumpling and crash landing effect is often caused by casts that are poorly delivered in a vertical casting plane. Apart from the potential noisy impact of the fly-line on the surface, this higher line delivery is more visible to fish. Instead of a vertical plane, consider casting from a tilted, closer-to-horizontal casting plane. While you may lose some accuracy, you often gain better quality fly and line landings; plus, while in the air, the line and leader will be less visible to fish.

Dry fly drag on a lake

On windy days when fishing in the highlands of Tasmania, avoid casting your dry fly directly downwind. While it may seem nice and easy to have a wind-assisted delivery, I’ve found that fishing in this manner makes the trout very difficult to catch. The fly quickly becomes tethered to the stationary boat or wading angler via the tight fly-line and leader.

In windy conditions, if you wade out and observe a tethered dry fly, you’ll see a small wake forming around it. Natural mayflies drift past at a rapid pace. When you fish in this manner, trout will nearly always refuse your fly, or at best, short rise to it. Persisting with a ‘tethered’ dry fly will eventually scare all the fish away from the area. Even if you do elicit a take, your chances of hooking the trout is slim. The fish misjudges, as a naturally-drifting offering falls deeply into a fish’s mouth when it eats, whereas a tug on a tight dry fly might only catch it by the skin of its teeth.

Instead, learn to execute a wiggle cast when casting downwind, or better yet, turn and cast into or across the wind. Keep in mind that if you cast at 90 degrees across the wind, a belly will soon form in your fly-line. The longer the cast, the worse the belly will be. The wind will drag your fly at an angle to the current on the lake’s surface, which trout still dislike.

Aim for shorter casts with a reach delivery, followed by constant mends as necessary. Dry flies need to drift across the lake’s surface naturally to be regularly eaten.

Dry fly drag on a river

When drifting a dry fly over a rising trout in a river, it’s possible to spook them, causing them to stop feeding for a period. For various reasons, they may not like your offering and sense something is amiss. You’ll need to rest these fish until they resume rising comfortably. Continually harassing a trout once it has been spooked will probably keep it down longer than you’re willing to wait.

It’s vital to consider your position when presenting to a riser. Using longer leaders and finer tippets can help reduce the chances of your dry fly dragging. Learning a variety of slack-line casts is beneficial as well. Mending quickly and effectively after delivery is also important, but avoid mending when your fly is near the trout to prevent spooking it.

That said, I’m frequently surprised to see a take an angler’s fly immediately after a mend has caused the dry fly to move. Always be prepared for this moment; a jerky, dragging fly can trigger a bite instead of spooking the fish. There are no hard and fast rules!

Constantly hounding a fish

It’s unwise to repeatedly present a fly to a trout, whether with poor presentations or even good ones with the same fly. The best chance to catch a fish is with your first cast. With each subsequent cast, the probability of success decreases exponentially. In my guiding experience, I rarely see a fourth or fifth presentation result in a catch.

Make your first presentation the best you can. If you don’t succeed, consider resting the fish for a while before attempting again.

Wrong fly position

I learned a valuable lesson about fly position nearly 20 years ago while fishing the Oreti River in New Zealand with exceptional guide, Dean Bell. My partner was casting to a trout she claimed was the size of a railway sleeper. It was constantly nymphing at the head of the run. After dozens of presentations with a small Adams dry fly, the trout had shown no interest.

Dean didn’t want her to use a nymph and indicator, instead encouraging her to continue with the dry. Eventually, I persuaded Dean to switch to a weighted nymph. As soon as the nymph landed, Dean let out an expletive. I thought the cast was perfect and that the trout would surely take the nymph. However, the moment it got near the trout, it spooked and bolted into the depths of the pool, leaving me stunned. Dean was frustrated with the situation – he had seen it all many times before.

He explained that large trout often tolerate a dry fly presented ‘in our world’, but they are very intolerant of a poorly presented fly ‘in their world’. He noted that we had watched the trout feed at least 50 times to its left. It was positioned close to the bank, feeding into the current where the nymphs were coming down from the riffle above. My partner’s fly had landed just two feet to the trout’s right – the bank side. The nymph drifted through the slack water on the wrong side of the fish. Dean explained that this trout had never seen a nymph come down the soft side; all the food came from its left side. I suspect the nymph may also have experienced some drag due to being in the slower water.

It’s interesting to contemplate how often we spook fish without realising it while nymphing up a river. Be sure to observe currents and slack-water interfaces carefully, and cast as accurately as possible.

Fly-lines, leaders, and rod flash

The movement of a fly-line in the air above a fish can scare it. I’ve witnessed this countless times throughout my guiding career. It’s not necessarily the colour of the line that’s the issue; however, I wouldn’t choose a bright orange casting competition fly-line.

I remember when we first used clear intermediate sinking fly-lines, and the sunlight reflecting off the wet line above the fishing zone, resembled constant flashes of lightning! Any trout near the surface would surely be spooked by that.

Floating leaders and fly-lines cast shadows on sunny days. I’ve observed trout swimming in shallow water towards my fly-line from the side, only to stop when they get underneath it, panic, and flee in the opposite direction. Occasionally, they’ll follow the fly-line to the rod tip before spooking upon seeing me.

Getting a fly-first presentation to cruising fish in the Western Lakes is sometimes crucial. Ideally, you want the wary trout to approach your fly without first coming sideways onto the fly-line or leader.

Degreasing your tippets is advisable when using dry flies. A sinking tippet casts a slight shadow, which fish seem to ignore.

Using too thick tippet material can result in poor fly presentation, making it that much harder to catch a trout. A friend who has guided in Montana for 30 years uses the phrase, ‘Rule it out’. This means you should use the thinnest material you can get away with. Never question whether a refusal was due to the thickness of your tippet material.

When wet fly fishing, you should regularly check how well your fly is swimming. I wouldn’t go a single day as a guide without finding the tippet half-hitched around the fly at some point, or the fly tail-wrapped; which both mean the fly isn’t swimming correctly. A poorly swimming fly can be extremely off-putting to fish. The same thing applies to dry flies. Apart from making the presentation less natural, it makes a hook set impossible.

Flash fly rods

We invest considerable money in shiny, fancy fly rods. On a sunny day with calm water, excessive false casting – especially in a vertical casting plane – can scare fish away due to the movement and sheen of the rod. While I wouldn’t suggest rubbing your $2000 purchase down to a dull matt finish, I have seen people resort to such extremes. Instead, I recommend reducing your false casting and utilizing a more horizontal casting plane whenever possible.

Next time, we’ll look at spooking trout from a boat – and how to avoid it.