Georgia Bonefishing

Written By - Switchfly.com - 09/13/2007

Link to Original Article here

For the first few days of our trip Tom, his younger brother Jason, and I flew to Key Largo, Florida to fish for Bonefish.

Florida was a hilariously comical debacle. Our guide was a chain smoker, meat fisherman who recommended (after I asked) that I use a two-foot long leader to catch Bonefish. This was enough information for me to realize that he didntt know anything about fly-fishing for Bones (Bonefish leaders range from about 10-16 long)

If that wasnt enough, a cold front came through bringing extremely high winds- making fishing for Bonefish almost impossible. Instead we enjoyed each others company, caught a few Barracuda and Shark, ate the best food, and sat in the hotel Jacuzzi.

By the time we returned to Georgia, after just barely making our flights, the three of us had more inside jokes than a click of bestest friends from high school. Tom and Jasons father, Tom Sr., picked us up in Atlanta and drove us an hour and a half to their cabin where the number of fish caught quickly met the number of inside jokes we now had.

March in Georgia, just a few weeks before the Masters Golf tournament, is perfect. It is cold at night but 75-90 degrees during the day. The warm weather heats up the water which makes the bass come out of their hibernation and restores their aggressive tendencies that so many of us love.

Tom Srs property is a half-mile off the main road, in the woods, with a 2-acre pond in the middle of it. The cabin has a porch (with rocky chair), a wooden table, a kitchen, bathroom, running water, guest bedroom, mounted Deer, and three mounted Largemouth Bass; all over 8lbs and one legendary bass, caught by Tom when he was 10, that weighed just over 13lbs.

After I received a fifteen minute tour of the cabin and a five minute story about the legendary 13lb bass, which was caught in their pond, the three of us went fishing (Tom Sr doesnt fish much, his new passion is cooking).

Jason screwed a trolling motor onto a 12-foot long metal flat-bottom boat while Tom and I fix the rods- five spin and two fly rods. After some squabbling between the brothers, Jason reluctantly reclined to the rear of the boat while Jason and I pushed the craft into the pond.

The pond, like all good Georgia bass pond, is murky enough so that ˜you couldnt see the bottom of a bucket (if a bucket was placed full of the ponds water). I learned this bucket rule and other essential Pond maintenance tips from Tom Sr during my two-week stay with the family. The lack of clarity, which is regulated by fertilizer dumped into the water, helps keep the pond full of large bass- and not of many small ones. Before my trip to Georgia, I always thought a pond was just a pond and a bass was just something that lived in it, but in Georgia, this is not the case. In Georgia, bass fishing is like gardening; the more you take care of your pond the bigger the bass grow.

On the pond, we slowly worked our way around the perimeter-casting worms, salamanders, and flies at the banks. I enjoyed the challenge of ducking my fly under branches or over fallen trees so that it landed, as a frog might, just off the bank of the pond. I used black and blue popper, about the size of a quarter that imitated a frog. The key to fishing a popper for bass is creating the right plopping noise. To do this, I applied lots of gink to the entire body of the fly- making sure to warm the gink in my fingers and then rubbing it in the deer hair. Then, when I cast it near the bank I let the fly plop onto the water and just sit for a couple of seconds- this is when I will usually get the most strikes. If I dont, I create another plopping noise by stripping in with a rate that grows exponentially in speed. The popper should duck under the water for a second, blowing bubbles and making a distinctive blop sound. This drive bass crazy.

I fly fished exclusively for the rest of the day- catching two decent sized bass on a fly. We worked our way around the entire pond before Tom Sr blew his factory like whistle to let us know that dinner was served.

As I found out that night, this trip was as much about eating as it was fishing. Tom Sr prepared us filet, grits, and twice baked potatoes for dinner. It was excellent. And my first true grits experience (the trip would be filled with many first eating experiences). After I ate two and a half filets, two potatoes, and lots of grits, Tom and I set up our tying vices and started tying poppers for tomorrows fishing.

After tying on a weed guard, then applying some legs, I spun deer hair over and over, packing the fly full of body. After I did my best stylist impression and clipped the hair down to a thick body (pictures in the photo section of this fly). Two flies took about 45 minutes, at which time Jason came back from gathering wood on the ATV and informed us that it was bon fire time.

We lit a massive, ten-foot high bon fire, only to hear the coyotes wailing in the woods from the site of fire. As one coyote started wailing others would follow creating one of the eeriest sounds. We sat by the fire for a while then retreated back to the cabin and to bed. It had been a long five days of travel and I was excited for tomorrows fishing.