Soaring Forward, Looking Back

The pathway to angling excellence has no end. As with all aspects of life, fishing success is measured in the quality of the journey, not through reaching a destination. Process is more important than product.

In order to move forward along the road, an angler must continually develop new skills and refine old concepts. The best fishermen are committed to growth at all times, always searching for new ideas and methods. They also know not to throw out the baby with the bath water so they don't mindlessly try every trick or lure which becomes popular.

No one has enough time to do so, given the copious amounts of information, technology and equipment available today. For me, the evolutionary process involves thoughtful experimentation with new equipment and techniques, coupled with the periodic and systematic evaluation of recent observations, results and trends in my fishing experience.

Often, as a calendar year winds toward its inevitable end, I pause to reflect on the things I've seen and done during recent months. This year is no different; I'm compelled to list some of the significant lessons I learned and relearned out on the water, while earning a living and living the dream. Some of these lessons are relevant in specific situations; others carry more of a general significance.

Among the most important things I'll take away from my efforts in 2012 is the need to be thorough in examining all parts of the waterways in which I fish. It's maddeningly easy to get caught up in a "milk run", returning to the same few spots regularly, whizzing past other potentially prime places repeatedly.

I experienced two productive runs of fishing this year in places I'd previously ignored. In one case, the catching was done along a stretch of shoreline I'd often thought looked good, but which had never produced well for me in the few times I tried it. This year, I made a determined effort to spend enough time to test the area thoroughly, and was well-rewarded for my persistence.

The other case involved fishing several isolated, rocky humps surrounded by deep water close to a pathway I often use when running from place to place. Despite the obviously positive attributes of these structures, I had not stopped to fish them in over a decade. Once I brought the boat off plane, recognized the beauty of their subtleties, planted my feet and started casting, the catching came early and easy. And it lasted for months!

The lesson gleaned from these events relates to the need to avoid "tunnel vision" when selecting spots to fish. Any angler who seriously wants to improve should study all resources related to the waterways carefully and completely, always on the lookout for new, productive places, particularly in stretches of water normally traversed at high speeds.

Similarly, anglers should constantly evaluate their plans for lure choice and presentation. People who fish regularly have an advantage over "weekend warriors" when it comes to picking the right lure for the moment. Often, we know what the fish were biting yesterday, so we're better able to correctly determine a starting point in the search for the right lure.

Anglers who fish less frequently usually don't have such awareness, so they must rely on sound sets of principles when formulating plans for lure choice and presentation. The plans should be followed sensibly and methodically, to avoid the tendency to "throw everything in the box at 'em". Nevertheless, new things should be added into the mix occasionally.

I discovered the effectiveness of sharply bending the tail down on the sinking version of Paul Brown's Original Lures this year. Especially when winds are strong and the water clarity off, modifying an Original Corky this way helps the plug stay down in the water, rather than ride right up to the surface. The sharp turn in the body of the plug makes it impossible to "walk the dog", but that's okay. Using sharp, rhythmic twitches of the rodtip, it's possible to make the Corky shake and spin forcefully, activating its rattle enticingly.

At this point, I really don't care why bending the tail on the lure works so well in sloppy conditions; I just know it works! On several occasions during this past winter and spring, the adjustment significantly altered the number of bites we were getting, and resulted in the catch of some big fish too. In fact, I caught my heaviest trout of the year on a strawberry/white Corky, with the tail bent to about a 75 angle.

Another lesson related to windy conditions revealed itself clearly; when fishing soft plastics, jighead size should be adjusted to match the conditions. Windier conditions (and stronger currents) dictate the need for heavier heads. Keeping the lure close to the bottom isn't possible with light jigheads when wind speeds ramp up over 15 knots.

Matching jighead size to wind speed is most critical when the fishing is done from the boat, but even when wading, ultra-light heads are sometimes useless in strong winds. Conversely, the same jigheads (sixteenth and eighth-ounce) produce much better when winds are calmer, especially if water temperatures are low.

Generally, I like to throw sixteenth-ounce heads when wading, but I sometimes move up to eighth-ounce or heavier ones when it's windy. When fishing out of the boat, heavier heads are preferred in general, up to quarter-ounce and more when winds are really cranking.

During this past year, I was also reminded of another good way to cope with windy conditions and keep catching. During the hot months, when bright, blustery weather occurs most every day, a MirrOprop is a stupendously productive plug. For some reason, the slushing sounds and splashes generated by the flashing, rotating blades drive fish crazy when it's balmy, bright and breezy.

Most lure chunkers would rather catch fish on top than any other way. I catch plenty of trout on Super Spook Juniors on calm summer mornings, but I now believe MirrOprops generate more blow ups when hot winds are whistling, big waves are rolling, and sunlight is glinting off their whirring metal blades.

I created a short video documenting the sounds and appearance of these productive little slush baits, then posted the movie on a website I created and maintain at www.CaptainKevBlogs.com. Learning the basics of website design and maintenance was another of the important steps I took in my fishing journey this year. With the help of Robert Richardson, who maintains my original website, I became proficient enough with the software to get the site up and running, and am now adding to it regularly. Blogging and adding videos and other content to the site aids in my quest to improve as an angler.

In essence, the need to maintain this evolving portion of the world wide web pushes me to generate new ideas and reflect on existing ones. The pursuit of angling excellence happens mostly on the water; it's also partly done in "the lab", which for me is my office, where I study, write, edit and create. I've long maintained my writing career has enhanced my fishing career, and vice versa. The existence of CaptainKevBlogs.com increases the complexity of the synergy between the two pursuits.

Visitors to the new website will likely discover another important aspect of my evolution in 2012. I developed a growing interest in birds during the last few months, mostly because I set out to document many of the best birding sites in the Corpus Christi area in a DVD. Working on the movie forced me to learn as much as I could about the avian species which appear on the screen.

A Guide To Birding Sites In And Around Corpus Christi Texas can be purchased by visiting the blogs page on CaptainKevBlogs.com, then clicking on the title. I hope the DVD encourages people to go bird-watching; I've found the activity to be refreshing and enlightening.

I wouldn't describe myself as a "birder" yet, but the roots of a birding obsession have clearly been set. Living as I do in a place known as The Birdiest City in North America, I've come to better appreciate the beauty of the many feathered creatures with whom I share a home. I can now identify a tall, white wading bird as a great egret, snowy egret or white-phase reddish egret, sometimes simply by watching the hunter's gait. I recognize the shrill cry of the kiskadee and muse the mystery behind the green jay's blue mask. Truly, I'm blessed with greater awareness of these colorful and fascinating sentinels, who enhance my appreciation of nature's ancient cycles.

As I type these words, on the cusp of my 49th winter, I feel a kind of kinship with a migrating raptor. Soaring effortlessly on high thermals, just beneath a layer of cumulus clouds, he glides south to escape the coming cold, in search of new places where he might make a living. Mostly, he relies on well-proven tricks and tactics, but he's capable of evolving in response to new challenges. Long years have dulled his eyes, but his talons remain sharp as ever, almost as keen as his predatory mind.