Fly Fishing with Mel

My Blog Has Moved

2010-03-28T13:25:00.003+08:00

After much consideration, I have decided to take a new step in my blogging. With immediate effect, my blog will move HERE and I will try to add to my repertoire of articles to include fly tying and fly fishing tips. So I hope to receive your continued support.

Gamefish & Aquatic Rehabilitation Society (GARS) is Officially Launched

2009-11-02T01:19:00.008+08:00

After a very, very long break, I'm finally back into the fishing scene.

The past few months have been very hectic ones with the setting up of Gamefish & Aquatic Rehabilitation Society(GARS). GARS aims to promote sustainable fishing and also the rehabilitation of our fishing environs.

We've been running fishing clinics and have also just completed 3 days of exhibitions at Clean & Green Singapore 2009; officially announcing our existence to the public.

While working to put our photos onto our blog, our president found, on the fishing kaki forum, someone using on our name as his advertisement citing his fishing pond as "The Home for Game fish & Aquatic Rehabilitation Society (GARS)" in his signature.

Strangely enough, the person signed off as Bob; who happens to be my previous business partner. I'm really tired after a long day of canvassing so I thought I would just sleep it off and maybe confront him tomorrow.

Then, my president informs me that he saw a couple of posts in the Malaysian Fishing Net Forum that were put up by imposters of me. The first one delongsim plagiarized posts from my blog while also using our society's logo.

In another post, delongsim plagiarized my Maldives articles. Then, melvinsim posts to ask delongsim to "Please stop stealing articles from my blog !"

So, have I become so famous that I have people impersonating me? Then why am I still struggling to get rich?

Are my articles so well-written that I have been plagiarized? Then why have I not received offers from publishers or advertisers on my blog?

Should I look upon this as a compliment?

What a welcome for me.

The Return of the FlyAngler - VI

2008-03-29T12:12:00.013+08:00

With only a scattering of outings in the past 3 months, I'm really looking forward to my upcoming Maldives trip in Apr. This lack of angling activity has consequently resulted in the dwindling of my postings. However, I hope that this new season will signal the beginning of a better year.

As a prelude to my coming pilgrimage, Moses suggested that we hit a new haunt for a spot of saltwater flyfishing. David, a relative newcomer to flyfishing, needed more practice before we hit the beaches of Lhaviani Atoll next month.

The weather had been especially kind to us, the previous evening had ended with ominous dark clouds and a heavy dousing over in the west side of our tiny island but Moses later confirmed that the eastern beaches were spared the deluge.

Since I was the designated driver for the outing, I got up at 5am, much against the wishes of my slumberous body. By the time I had picked up Albert and David, and was on the way to Moses, a sliver of light was already peeking over the horizon.

The tide was just turning and while we set up our gear, we could see the exposed rock wall, barely a meter wide, that separated the small lagoon from the open waters. A group of lure anglers had taken up positions on the near side of the wall. With rods in hand, Surf Candy at ready and stripping baskets, well, just hanging, we bid our fellow anglers "good morning" and politely made out way to the far end of the wall. They've had a few misses on poppers and were still enticing the odd chase.

The crisp morning sea air woke every of my senses and I felt rejuvenated; I was in my element. We were on the lookout for the nervous waters that signaled the arrival of the bait schools but other than the wind-formed rips, everything was quiet. off to our left, our luring buddies let off a serious of howls and we turned to see a fabulous Queenfish raising plumes of white mist in a series of jumps. Much encouraged by the good fortune of our brethren, we increased the frequency of our casts into the jade waters ahead of us.

Despite being new to flyfishing, David was handling his flyline very well. Though not a champion distant caster by any measure, he was able to work a decent coverage of the water before him. Scanning the horizon, Moses noticed a couple of gulls diving into the waters way out. Bait School! But they were way out of reach, nonetheless, it was good news. Turning to check on our friends to our left, I suddenly heard a screaming reel to my right. David's 6wt TFO was nearly bent over. Much to his credit, he worked his loose line like a seasoned angler and guided it till he was to the reel. Then letting the reel take over, David worked the unknown assailant with short pumps and sideways pressure. Constantly changing directions to try to disorientate the fish, he regained the line he'd lost till the fish was just 15m away.

However, the fish was still very green and took off on a few tail walks, trying its best to shake the surf candy loose. It was a Long Tom and a huge one too. With each jump, David pumped and bowed to keep tension on the fish. It did not taken much longer for the leader to come within an arm's reach. Though subdued, it was still challenge to land the fish. The hook was lodged in the eye of the Long Tom and to lift the fish up by the leader would've killed it. The tide had risen but the water was just beyond my reach and I had to wait for the next crest to lift the fish to the Bogagrip's grasp.

With the bogagrip securely gripping the teeth-laden jaws, the fish was quickly raised.

A quick photo with the David and we tried to remove the hook from the eye without doing more damage.

Fortunately, the hook let go its grip without much resistance and the fish took off under its own power.

David went on to catch another Long Tom, albeit a much smaller one. Obviously, he was just as delighted.

As for the rest of us, we had to be content with misses or the odd small 3" groupers that dominate the rock bottom and the shallow lagoon behind us. To end off a great session, David bought us all a nice breakfast before we went to the shop to recount our morning's adventure to those with a willing ear.

Fish Wars IV - A New Hope

2007-12-19T12:28:00.000+08:00

Warning!!! - This post does not contain any exciting fishing encounters. Just more of my ramblings.

A Year in Perspective

As 2007 draws to a close, it occurred to me that I have not updated my blog for close to 8 moons. And for the many who have watched these pages closely, I offer my sincerest apologies. My writings have never been about the big fish or the many fish but I write with feelings that I gather while fishing. And it is this feeling that I've been lacking.

In terms of fishing, this year has been for me the closest to 'wandering in the desert for 40 years'. This has been the driest spell for me not having enjoyed fishing for close to 10 moons.

With the increased surveillance around our favourite bass haunts, it has turned many off from attempting to even fish, unless one is suffering from a severe bout of 'Cichla monoculus-titis' and in need of a temporary cure. Why do we have to feel like criminals, hunted down and persecuted for pursuing a perfectly legitimate past time. Just because fly fishing is not a recognized Olympic sport, we get no endorsement from the local sport council. And now, with the Marina Barrage being constructed, even the Singapore River, a favourite haunt for saltwater anglers, has been declared off limits to all fishing as it will soon become our new water catchment.

How does fishing affect our water source? Especially since many of us are fishing with artificials. Why are powerboats allowed to ply up and down in our reservoirs dragging wakeboarders while we are not allowed to haul our poppers and sliders in those same waters?

Do we dirty the waters more than our fellow sportsmen? Powerboats inadvertently will leak lubricants and petrol into the water, wakeboarders cover themselves with sunblock and then soak in the water waiting to start or at the end of their run. The wakes of the boats and the boards do more to damage the embankments more than what a hundred or more anlgers do while walking around the reservoir? Do not misunderstand, I have nothing against others enjoying wakeboarding. I only question why the double standards. Has it got anything to do with the potential financial gains?

If we are not being persecuted for dirtying the waters then why are we still not allowed to fish and why do the officers who apprehend us still use that as an excuse to discourage us from fishing? It was a good 8 months between my 'apprehension' and my receiving of my 'ticket' from the authorities. Why the long wait? Why can't I pay in advance for a license to allow me to fish peacefully and with dignity.

It has been so long since I've got a chaffed thumb from lipping a peacock bass or smelled the pungent, yet comforting 'fragrance' of my green slimy friend.

2007 has also seen my failed attempt to run a 'Catch and Release' fishery in neighbouring Malaysia. After 8 months of effort, I finally decided to pull out of the partnership. It had been a fantastic learning experience and I hope to be able to fulfill my dream of owning a fishing lodge in the coming years. If any guide or lodge owners are reading this, if you don't mind sharing your experience, please drop me a note.

And to add to my blues, my application to Games giant, Electronic Arts, was rejected. Trained in animation, I was not adequately skilled to work as a Technical Artist. So now I must decide if I should head off to pursue my further studies.

What prompted me to update this blog was a lunch appointment with a South African friend of mine who will be returning home for good. He has kindly invited me to fish for my first trout near his future home next Easter. It was not the prospect of fishing for trout that re-ignited my passion. It was Jeff's enthusiasm that rubbed off on me. If you are reading this Jeff, thanks for the invite and for re-igniting my fire.

And for those of you who have supported this blog since its inception, I just want to wish each and everyone of you a very "Merry and Blessed Christmas, and Fish-filled New Year".

Return from the North - Lake Kenyir (Prologue)

2007-04-08T12:19:00.000+08:00

After a 2-year hiatus from fishing in the tranquil surroundings of Lake Kenyir in Terengannu, Malaysia, I was able to finally arrange a trip to revisit this favored freshwater fly fishing locale of mine.

Covering an expanse of 260,00 hectares, which incidentally is larger than the size of Singapore, Lake Kenyir is the largest man-made lake in South-east Asia. A myriad of fishing environs are scattered throughout the lake. Small coves with lots of overhangs, small streams, waterfalls, rapids and many more provide us with many different challenges with which we can test our skills. Many indigenous species and a few introduced species provide us with hours of enjoyment.

The Hampala Barb, or known locally as the Sebarau, is one of the highly sought after fish by us, fly anglers. With a migratory habit similar to the salmon, it uses its great strength to swim up the fast flowing rapids and even leap up waterfalls to head upstream to spawn. Its range covers most of the lake but prefers to live and hunt near waterfalls and tree stumps. Even a juvenile, barely bigger than a palm can give a good account of itself on light tackle. It is the natural nemesis of the Giant Snakehead, picking of the young by using its great speed to avoid the protective parents guarding the school.

If patience is your virtue, another prized target is the Malaysian Mahseer (Tor tambra), or Kelah Merah in malay. One of the many Mahseer species around Asia, it is well-known as the King of the River. Favouring the clean clear waters of the upper reaches of rivers, an outing to fish this magnificent fish requires a long trek and sometimes, boat rides upstream. Camping out for a few days will usually increase the chances of hooking one. While teasing one to take a fly has been accomplished before, it is a very very difficult undertaking. The usual means of catching one involves chumming with a bag of oil palm fruit and then using stiff tackle, fish with a piece of the palm fruit. A stake out usually ensues with a close eye being kept on the rod, for it has been known to fly off the stand when the Kelah takes the bait. The powerful jaws can crush 5X strong hooks with relative ease and it's powerful runs can even break 40lbs tackle in a flash.

Other fish species we go for include,

the Giant Snakehead(Channa micropeltes),

Small Snakehead (Channa asiatica),

Giant Gourami,

Kelah Hijau (Neolissochilus hexagonolepis, not related to the Tor species mentioned above),

Clown Knife Fish (Chitala ornata),

Tinfoil Barb (Barbonymus schwanenfeldii),

Ikan Busoh (Oxygaster anomalura), just to name a few.

Taking a night coach, Hun, Liew and I endured the gruelling 9 hour overnight trip, traversing almost the whole of Peninsular Malaysia. With a couple of stop-overs for drinks to warm ourselves up from the incessant cold winds blowing from the souped-up air-conditioning (I'd recommend a good jacket or even blanket for anyone thinking of taking a trip up), we arrived, at around 6am, at the bus station in Kuala Terengganu. A short wait later, a familiar face appeared to welcome us. Our driver Rudi, helped us to load our gear into the 'well-used' van and drove us to, at my request, a shophouse in Chinatown that serves fantastic herbal Pork-Rib soup. Nothing like a hot bowl of soup and Chinese tea to wake the senses and loosen the well-jolted, frozen limbs.

After that, we loaded up a case of bottled water and off to the pickup point we went. From Kuala Terengannu, it is a 45 min ride up the mountain range to the edge of the lake where our host, Cheong, awaited our arrival by his 20ft fibreglass tender. Here on, it is only a 5 mins boat trip to his lodge, Musang Kenyir Lodge, located at the foothills of Mt. Tembat, in the northwest corner of the lake. I must add that this boat trip may take longer during the dry season as the water levels will drop thus blocking the most direct route to the lodge. Even then, it will only double the time to reach the lodge.

This lodge is as rustic as it can get but comfortable enough for us who like to travel on a tight budget. it used to boast a couple of floating platforms housing the chalets, a dining hall and a multipurpose hall.

However, the fragile handiwork of Man was no match for the fury of Nature. The floating chalets were washed away by a flash flood during the monsoon three seasons ago and to reduce the maintenance cost, the other platform has also been decommissioned.

Now all his chalets and facilities are located on terra firma. This small spit of high ground is straddled by two waters falls. But rest-assured, we are safe as all structures are placed well above the highest watermark. The wooden platforms are structurally safe, though I'd recommend watching your step as there may be a few loose planks here and there.

Activities for the non-anglers include karaoke, Cable TV (so you won't miss that all important soccer match), nature hikes and swimming at various waterfalls. For the fishing enthusiasts, bait fishing is allowed and there are floating platforms where you can spend the night in soaking a live bait.

However, Hun, Liew and I were there to enjoy a relaxing 3 days of fly fishing. And the plan was to fish from kayaks around the lake and also around the rock pools at the base of the waterfalls.

to be continued...

Heading North

2007-02-27T23:03:00.000+08:00

It's been a really long holiday. Chinese New Year has always been a big thing in my family. The usual cleanup was enough to drain me. Perhaps I'm getting old. Or maybe it's just that I'm not getting enough workout time...with my rod.

No big. Tomorrow night I'll be leaving for Lake Kenyir in Terengganu, Malaysia. It will be my first trip as an organiser of a fishing trip. Will be looking forward to some quiet time fishing the lake in a kayak and also taking photos. I'll be sure to write something to post up when I get back next Monday. So, do come back and check it out. Cheerios.

Fly Fish with Mel: Happy Valentine's Day!

2007-02-13T23:34:00.000+08:00

Love is in the air and it's thicker than a summer morning's hatch of Pale Morning Duns. And like our winged counterparts, its all about finding a mate in the cloud of millions.

It's amazing how a tiny six-legged creature that has only a few hours of adult life, find that which many of us spend a lifetime searching for, cannot find.

So what will I be doing on this day of Love? Well, I did think about heading down to the waters to see if I could find any of my finned friends snuggling up to each other. Then again, I wouldn't want anyone crashing my date if I were to be so fortunate.

Valentine's Day is also a celebration of friendship, or so says He who did not have a date. And with friends, I will be spending my time. In fact a friend of mine has just returned from his working stint in Shanghai for the coming Chinese New Year Celebrations. Who knows? We may end up by the waters in the end.

Que Sara Sara! Whether you'll be spending time with you special someone or like me, spending it in the joyful company of good friends, I wish you all a very Happy Valentine's Day.

Fly Fish with Mel: Bass-ic Instincts

2007-02-12T22:28:00.000+08:00

It has been almost 2 full months since I went looking for peacock bass. Jesmond, who will be on leave for the next 3 days, so kindly offered to pick me up for a spot of PB hunting.

The day was HOT! At the zenith of its arcing path, the sun beat mercilessly down upon us. The small canal that we were to fish glistened like a hundreds of diamonds scattered across the rippling surface of the water. Of the fish, there was no sign.

Out in the distance, a floating weed harvester was dredging hydrilla weeds and hauling it onto a floating barge. As the mechanical grazer munched lazily away, bits of dislodge weeds floated in towards us, pushed along by a stiff North-easterly. It was not going to be easy to cast my coho 4wt.

Walking to the mouth of the canal, my hair was ruffled despite the copious amounts of hair gel I had used. In the lee of the boom that kept floating debris out of the canal, I could see a few dark green patches that had the words Peacock Bass written all over it. Tying on my #12 hairless Woolly Bugger, I tried to lay the line across the canal, along the boom. The stiff breeze and tall grass behind, My fly went nowhere. It clung on tightly to the 3m tall grass and had to be coaxed down with a stern hand.

The North-easterly was blowing along the canal and thus wrecked havoc on my attempts to cast across the waterway. So angling my cast 45 degrees to the mind, I aimed the fly at the boom. As the rod unloaded, I could see my fly line shoot out but rapidly lose speed. The fly trailed the loop and as it tried to roll itself over, the wind pushed it back. Using the last of its built-up energy, the fly straightened out but was blown back over the boom to land nicely broadside, in the lee.

While I waited for the lightly weighted fly to descend the foot or two, I could see ominous shadows lurking beneath. When I felt that I had the fly just above the weeds, I worked the fly back in stuttered strips. The shadows worked into a flurry and my rod arced as the fly line surged forward. The assailant felt the resistant but it was already too late. The hook struck home and all peacock bass could do was to surface and try to shake off the fly.
Despite its valiant effort, the beautiful Cichla was soon raised. A few quick shots and our greedy little friend returned home safely and hopefully a little wiser.

Jesmond soon got in on the action too with his enticingly wobbly spoon lure. After warming up on a few small 3-inchers, Jesmond saw a hole open up beneath his dancing lure only to have the connection broken when the lure was spat back at him, stamped 'Return to Sender'. Ducking to avoid the lure, he could only gasp at the close encounter of the smart kind. 2 hours of fun on tiddlers, we took a break to fetch Jesmond's daughter from school and to grab a bite, we returned to an adjacent canal.

This time, the sky threatened to open up on us but was pushed back an ever stiffening breeze. had I not been wearing my real hair, my toupe would've been blown halfway around the world. I struggled to lay even 40ft of line straight. Even Jesmond was struggling to control the flight of his lure. It was his turn to draw first blood. Twice for that matter. The little critters nailed his lure practically at his feet. We battled the relentless wind and raised another half dozen peacock bass before we decided to call it quits. A gratifying outing for two friends out fishing with each other for the first time.

Fly Fish with Mel: How to Equip for a Trip to Maldives - Apparel (3)

2007-02-09T14:05:00.000+08:00

To the uninitiated, a take from a saltwater predator usually leaves a lasting impression, literally. Many a times, I have been so mesmerized by the visual excitement of tracking my piscatorial foe to my fly that I forget to let go when my quarry decides to scoff down my offering and head straight out into the wild blue yonder. You can imagine the agony when plastic line rubs into tender water soaked flesh.

Fortunately, humans have developed the ability to learn from their mistakes. Better yet, they designed solutions for these problems. Nowadays, you'll hardly see me fly fishing for any saltwater quarries without my Waterworks-Lamson Stripper Glove.
These gloves have an extension over the index and middle finger to protect them from abrasion. They are sold individually but I bought a pair so I have full cover for both hands. Since I hold the fly rod in my right hand, the glove protects my index and middle fingers while I control the line in-between strips. The left glove protects my stripping hand but it is more for preventing me having different coloured hands at the end of my fishing trip.

These Boots are made for Walking

Since I'm on the topic of protection for limbs, I must say that the feet require the most protection. It is not the coarse grains that cause the inconvenience. On the contrary, it is the fine powdery stuff that causes the greatest damage. Add to that, all the jagged corals that lie hidden beneath the foaming waters at the surf, you may just find yourself with a pair of battered feet.

On my virgin trip to the Maldives, it is an understatement to say that I was ill-equipped. I was only wearing a pair of Teva Sandals. It was a miracle that my feet were not cut to shreds by the razor-sharp corals. On my next trip, I bought a pair of Simms Flats Sneakers that were an exact fit. I wore a pair of cotton socks confident that the shoes would keep the sand out. It did but only the larger grains. Vents in the sides of the shoes allowed powdered sand swirling in the turbulent water to enter. Building up over time, it got in-between my socks and the shoes. While sand on it's own will, at most, cause you a little discomfort; when it gets between your shoe and your feet, it starts to cause abrasive damage whenever you are walking. By the end of the first day, my feet were sore and bruised. Every subsequent day, I was left in a predicament; to bear with pain and discomfort and put the shoes back on or enjoy the comfort of bare feet and stay aboard and forgo fishing.

It took me a good long while of trial and error before I settled on a pair of Orvis Saltwater Wading Boots at the recommendation of a friend. In fact, about five of us were wearing the same design on my last trip in 2006. The boots come with a neoprene sock that has a flap that folds over to act as a sand guard. The neoprene sock acts as an effective barrier that prevents the sand from rubbing against your skin.

The hard toecap gives you peace of mind as you walk amidst the serrated edges of the coral skeleton. In fact, my toecaps still bear the scars of my last trip.

It is quite unfortunate that Orvis has seemingly discontinued this particular model of Wading Boots so I am unable to provide a link to you. However, there are many other brands of wading boots available in the market. The Simms Flats Sneakers does provide you god protection but you may want to buy a size larger and wear a neoprene sock to prevent the abrasions. As for the neoprene socks, you can try using a pair of Seal Skinz Socks.

Orvis has since released another model, the Premium Christmas Island Wading Boots. I cannot comment on this as i have yet to try it on or even see it up close. So if anyone of you who's reading this and has tried it, drop me a note on how it performs.

I must maintain that while we walk the flats and consequently the coral patches, we do so with caution even though it is usually coral skeletons that we tread upon.

During one of our forays, Gerard and I chanced upon a small patch of LIVE coral in thigh-deep waters. It was a fantastic sight.

I hope that such a revival will become a more common sight in the Maldives in the coming years.

Fly Fish with Mel: How to Equip for a Trip to Maldives - Apparel (2)

2007-02-08T23:18:00.000+08:00

One other important part of our anatomy that requires adequate protection in this harsh environment is the window to our soul, our eyes. The same UV radiation that is so damaging to our skin is also a bane to our eyes. Add to that, long hours of staring at bright, shimmering reflections off the water surface looking for that elusive bonefish can fatigue our eyes to the point of causing headaches.

Therefore, one absolutely indispensable piece of gear, is a pair of QUALITY, polarized sunglasses. Notice that I emphasize 'QUALITY'. Any simple pair of dark glasses does more damage than not wearing sunglasses. This is because the darkness of the lens causes your pupils to dilate, thus letting in more UV light. It is then imperative to make sure that you choose sunglasses that are labeled as having protection against UVA and UVB radiation.

Polarization is the cutting down of glare from the horizontal plane. This means that reflection off the water's surface is reduced dramatically, allowing you to peer through the water in search of your quarry. Without this property, you will find it almost impossible to spot the fish. The extremely bright environment of white sand and reflective waters will also tire your eyes a lot quicker as you squint to reduce the glare.

As always, there are many makes of quality, polarized sunglasses. Personally, I use Costa Del Mar and Maui Jim. I prefer wrap-arounds as they cover up most of the spaces on the sides and on the top where light can enter and still create glare. The quality of the polarization is also very good in the two pairs that I own. I haven't had much problems with de-lamination of the polarized coatings and since the models I use are all plastic, I don't really have to worry about rusting. I just give it a good rinse in freshwater at the end of every day and leave it to dry indoors.

My Costa Del Mar Fluid sunglasses have interchangeable lenses allowing me to change from sunrise (yellow) lenses ,for low light conditions; to amber (orange), for high contrast against the light sand; to grey lenses for deep blue waters. Other coloured lenses can be bought to suit other conditions too. It originally comes with 3 sets of lenses but I bought an extra set of sunrise lenses for use during my early morning forays.

My Maui Jim MJ Sport is of a one-piece construction but fits my asian face shape very well. Its lightweight frame makes it my sunglass of choice for everyday use. It sports a rose lens (reddish-brown) makes it universal for use at anytime of the day.

For daily maintenance, we carry a piece of lens cleaning cloth and solution in a waterproof bag whenever we go to shore. Since we apply loads of sunblock, you can be sure that there'll be oily smudges on the lens every now and then. A quick spray and wipe and you're ready to go hunting again. A simple ritual for us is to rinse the sunglasses in freshwater to get rid of any salt and when dry, clean the lenses with the solution once over before we replace them into their cases. In this way, we make sure that our sunglasses are where we can find them the next morning.

to be continued..

Fly Fish with Mel: How to Equip for a Trip to Maldives - Apparel

2007-02-05T21:58:00.000+08:00

If you think that fly fishing the flats is idyllic, it is except for one fact. Being in the tropics means one thing....IT'S HOT!

A typical day starts with the sun stirring from its slumber at about 6.30am. As the great orange orb crawls from beneath its shimmering sheets, we too start to prepare for our fishing day. A fragrant hot cup of coffee and a fulfilling breakfast stimulates the body to get up to running speed. Then it is off to hit the beaches.

At around 8am, the water is still a little chilly and you're thankful you had that hot cup of black, aromatic brew to warm your body up. It will take another hour or two for the water temperature to rise. But even now, you start to feel heat of the rays that shoot out from behind the low clouds. You know that soon, you will feel the fury of that rising sun.

Of course, you can opt to take the cool option of sitting in the shade or head back to the mothership but we usually search relentlessly for fishable waters throughout the day. That's why it is imperative that we choose suitable protection gear.

The clothing of choice for us is a set of quick dry, long-sleeved Casting Shirt and pants. The reason for choosing quick dry Clothing is so that when we return from a day's fishing, we need only to rinse them in fresh water and hang out to dry. The wind will have your suit dry, ready for the next day's fishing. As such, we normally bring only 2 sets of fishing clothing to last for a nine day trip. The long sleeves will protect your arms from being burnt to Lobster Red. The long pants are necessary to protect you legs. Even though you're feeling cool in the water, the sunlight is actually being magnified by the water. You'll only realize it when you toss and turn in bed later in the night, feeling the burning sensation.

I will also recommend that these clothes be made of UV-protective materials. In the open flats, direct sunlight and reflected sunlight constantly bathe you in UV radiation so besides he sunblock, you would want to be additional protection from those scorching rays.

Also, a nice wide-brimmed hat or a duck-billed cap would do nicely to keep your cranium nice and cool. Another advantage is that it keeps the glare from straining your eyesight from above.

Should you want to keep you neck from getting burnt, you can choose to buy a hat with flaps that are detachable. These flaps help to cover the ears and the back of your neck and prevent these sensitive parts from charring.

Bandanas can also be a useful piece of clothing to pack. It's small, light and versatile. Use it under a hat or cap to add additional coverage for your neck or just use it to tie over your head.

When it gets hot, dip it into the cool water and drape it around your neck to bring soothing relief from the sweltering heat.

to be continued...

Fly Fish with Mel: How to Equip for a Trip to Maldives - Flies

2007-01-29T22:20:00.000+08:00

Now that we've covered our weapons, we need ammunition. Just what kind of flies do you need for a trip to the Maldives?

If you brought just 3 types of flies, you'd still be able to enjoy a successful trip. Crazy Charlies in the sizes of #2 - #8 will catch you just about any reef species including groupers, snappers, wrasse, flute fish, etc...and of course, the grand prize, Bonefish.

#2 - #2/0 Clouser Minnows, will get you the same specturm of fish as a Crazy Charlie. Yes! Even bonefish. But you should be able to illicit strikes from much larger giant and bluefin trevallies.

Crustaceans form a major part of the diet of the many creatures of the flats. So a crab fly from #2 - #1/0 will draw the attention of many a hungry piscatorial adversary. And if the stars are shining on you, perhaps even a chance to hook up the highly regarded Permit.

These are but just 3 patterns that a proven on the flats of the Maldives. Our group has used a whole gamut of fly patterns except the very first fly to have ever caught a bonefish, a Royal Wulff. Some of our industrious members have even designed some original patterns.

The Carrot, a fly that is basically a Crazy Charlie with an epoxy body. Thus named for it's orange body and green wing. Used in exactly the same way as a Crazy Charlie.

I tied a Sea-bugger and even caught a squid with it. It is a derivative of a woolly bugger. I tie it with a red conehead and red and white chenille and hackles. I got the idea from the successful red-head trolling lures.

Some of the other flies that have been used include: the Bonefish Special, Surf Candy, Deceiver, Whistler, Pink Thing and the list goes on.

The next question is..."How many flies do I need?"

As a norm, we will bring along about 100 - 200 flies for a 9 - 11 day trip. All of them are packed into a few boxes that we keep aboard the motherboat. Each day we pick out a winning combination and pack them into waterproof fly boxes. These are the ones that we will work with through the course of the day's fishing.

So if you are adventurous, bring any fly pattern that you'd like to try and see what you can pull from the depths. But you can still always pack a few dozen of the proven flies to make sure you have stories to tell when you return.

Fly Fish with Mel: How to Equip for a Trip to Maldives - Leader and Tippet

2007-01-27T00:20:00.002+08:00

It is common practice for American anglers targeting bonefish to use the longest leader they can to avoid spooking the fish. The classic bonefish havens have been under so much fishing pressure that the fish have graduated with a PhD in Capture Evasion. So it isn't wrong to say that long leaders and light tippets are a must.

In the Maldives, the bonefish may not be as plentiful but they do not spook as easily. These fish are normally caught by the locals using worms and crabs. And during any fishing season, the Maldives see probably around 200 - 300 fly anglers. I must quantify that these are purely my own estimates based on the number of anglers leaving for trips from Singapore and Malaysia and from the information gathered from the Maldivian captains. It is more common for visiting anglers from Japan and Europe to go for popping and jigging or big game fishing. Even if my numbers are underestimated, I am very sure that the fishing pressure on the flats is significantly lower than that of the Caribbeans or Florida. Thus, a long leader is considered a good to have and not a necessity.

Twisted Leader

My leader is usually between 9' - 12' long ; shorter, if I'm using a very heavy fly; even longer if there is not even a hint of a breeze. It is constructed out of 25 lbs monofilament line. I twist the line so that it technically doubles its breaking strength. This also makes the butt of my leader stiffer so that the transition from fly line to leader is gradual. It aids in turning the whole leader and therefore, the fly. Another added advantage of using such a leader is that it acts as a shock absorber. The twisting causes the line to bunch up, effectively becoming a spring, that when pulled, stretches even more than when it was a single strand.

With a 50lbs butt leader that tapers to 25lbs, with no knot to weaken it in the middle, I tie on 4' – 5' of 15lbs - 20lbs fluorocarbon bite tippet. The fly is then tied on using a loop knot and I'm ready for business. If I keep changing flies, I'll use the tippet till I am left with about 2' before I change the whole leader with one fresh from a Zip-loc bag.

I use fluorocarbon tippets as it is said to be near invisible to fish when in the water. It is also more abrasion-resistant making it suitable for use around the rocky outcrops. There is a downside to fluorocarbon tippets though. It is a lot stiffer than most monofilament leaders however, this is resolved by using a loop knot that retains the fly's action.

Even though I've followed convention and used a tapered leader, I must add that on our last trip, a mate of ours used 6' of 60 lbs leader and caught a 5lbs bonefish using a #2 Clouser Deep Minnow.

Fly Fish with Mel: How to Equip for a Trip to Maldives - Fly Lines

2007-01-23T18:20:00.000+08:00

If you thought that selecting the rod and reel was confusing enough, brace yourself for another headache.

Fly lines now come in a myriad of colours from translucent to downright gaudy. They float, sink, sink slowly, sink very quickly, sink partially and now even have multiple personalities. Fortunately, for us saltwater types, we need only pick from a small selection of an otherwise almost infinite choice.

Hot! Hot! Hot!

The Maldives bask in the sweltering heat of the tropics. Though water temperatures generally remain in the 20s(degree Celsius), the ambient temperature and some parts of the shallow flats may reach the high 30s at noon. This kind of temperature will cause traditional trout or coldwater lines to become useless. These lines typically use a single-strand monofilament core that will soften in high temperatures rendering the line unable to cast properly or turn a heavy fly.

So what you will need is a warm water or tropical line. These lines, unlike their coldwater cousins are built around a braided mono core that is capable of withstanding the incapacitating heat. Conversely, if you were to use this line in colder climates, it would stiffen to the point that the line may even crack.

Sink or Swim

So now that we've decided to get a tropical fly line, do we get one that floats or sinks? On my trips, I would take along and then choose one of three; floating, intermediate and a sink-tip.

I would normally choose a floating line if I'm fishing the surf or over very rocky drop-offs. This is to prevent the fly line from fouling in the rocks when I'm struggling with the waves, as the line remains on the surface. It also facilitates an easier pickup for a quick forward cast when a target of opportunity suddenly appears. A floating fly line with a heavy fly, for example, a deep clouser minnow, tied on will tend to lift the fly up when stripped. A 'strip-and-pause' retrieve will impart a more vertical jigging action to the fly. By changing the retrieve to a doublehanded straight retrieve, the fly will leap off the bottom and then swim straight, usually, nearer the surface. With this setup, I'm usually targeting the coral species like wrasses, groupers, emperors and GTs. My choice is either a Monic Tropical Floating Line (clear) or a Scientific Angler Bonefish Floating Line (Horizon)

If I am to be fishing mostly sand flats with scattered coral patches, I'd go for the intermediate line. The intermediate line sinks but at a slow rate of 1.5 - 2.5 inches per second. When targeting bottom feeders like bonefish and permit, you would want the fly to reach the bottom fast and for the fly to work near the bottom when stripped. A Crab fly or Crazy Charlie used with an intermediate line will quickly descend to the bottom, ready to attract the attention of a passing bonefish. If a streamer like a Deceiver is used, the line will keep the fly in mid-water even when stripped rapidly. should you be interested in using such a line, I'd recommend the Scientific Anglers bonefish taper.

As for the sink-tip, it's a combination of a floating line and an intermediate line. The main part of the line floats while the tip, translucent, sinks at a rate of about 1.8 - 2.0 ips. As I only have 6wt sink-tip, a Scientific Anglers Wet Tip Clear, I use it when I'm using my Winston XTR5 6wt. I normally use it near very deep drop-offs by the surf where I want my line to be floating but still want the fly to reach a deeper depth.

My choice of line thus depends on where I would be fishing that day. This, of course, means that prior knowledge of the terrain would be very helpful. In the absence of such information, I would go with the sink-tip as it is the most versatile.

Staying Connected

I use a braided loop on all my fly lines. This makes it easier for me to change my leader. If you don't want to be meddling with spools of leader and tippet, I would recommend using a braided loop and loop-to-loop connections. I keep pre-tied tapered leaders in small ziploc bags and change the whole leader whenever my tippet gets too short from changing flies.

Fly Fish with Mel: How to Equip for a Trip to Maldives - Reels

2007-01-21T23:18:00.000+08:00

Large Arbor or Small Arbor

With so many manufacturers coming out with large arbor reel designs, you would start to wonder if it really makes a difference. I sure did.

On my first fly fishing trip to the Maldives, I was using a Lamson 3 with my Sage RPL+. The combination was fine but when a few nice sized GTs and Bluefin trevallies took me into my backing, I had to reel really hard to gain line. After I got back from the trip and was planning another, I started to think that perhaps, I needed another reel to better handle the conditions and the fish.

Reading up on the subject, I came across the Ross Canyon series. It was one of the first large arbor saltwater reels back then. I received the CA2 just prior to my return trip to the Maldives. Packed with 120yds (110m) of 20lbs Scientific Angler Standard Backing, I was ready to do battle with the denizens of the flats. This time, I found that even when I was taken way up into my backing, I had a much easier time retrieving line. With lesser turns of the reel, I was gaining more line than I had with the Lamson 3's standard arbor. Combining rod work with relentless constant pressure from the superb drag of the reel, numerous bluefins and GTs were to succumb to me.

As good as the Ross Canyon was, it was heavy. It weighed in at 5.5oz(155g). This made it a little heavy to balance my 6 wt Winston XTR but used with my 8wt Sage RPLXi, it balanced out. This meant that I had to remove some of my backing to accommodate the thicker 8wt Bonefish taper.

On the flats, sand tended to get into the grooves on the inside of the reel and the Canyon need to be stripped to wash the sand out. This was time consuming and thus became frustrating espescially when the fish were on the bite.

Despite all these, the Ross still remains a good reel to use on the flats.

The Ultimate Saltwater Reel

In February 2005, 2 months after the Dec 26 Asian Tsunami, we planned another trip to revisit the Maldives. This was to be the trip that got me interested in another reel which I was to fall in love with and that has become my main weapon of choice on the flats.

Gerard and I paired up for most of the trip. He was using his Able Super 6 reel, anodized a brilliant red, yellow and orange; or 'Fire' as we call it.

Matching the the reel with his Winston XTR 5 7wt rod, he went on to subdue many a marauding GT and in the process, landed a whopping 29.5 pounder off the shallow flats. Not only was it's stopping power awesome, the simple design meant that the reel could be dropped on the sand and with dunk in the water, be ready for action again.

With only a single nut holding the drag knob, the whole reel comes apart to reveal 5 main seperate parts. The only real concerns are the nut, the pawl and two springs. As such, it makes maintenance in the field mere child's play, not that it requires much though. Sand got in the reel? Dunk the reel in the water and give the fly line a firm tug and the spinning reel will expel the invading grains in a flash. At the end of the fishing day, a short soak in some fresh water and up it goes onto the rack. No extra maintenance until you get home.

Despite a great blow to my pocket, I bought myself a Super 7 and used it to great satisfaction during my 2006 trip.

The Super 7's drag is a simple cork drag but boy does it pack stopping power. The way to use the reel is, upon setting the hook, let the fish take up the line to the reel. Once the reel kicks in, slowly turn the drag knob click by click until the fish slows down. if the fish slows almost to the point of standstill, you can start to pump the fish in with your rod. However, as you retrieve line, remember to loosen the drag when the fish nears you. You can count it to try and bolt the moment it sees you. It will take a while for you to understand your Abel reel but once you know its latent powers, you will start to really appreciate it as not only a thing of beauty but quality engineering.

Spoilt for Choice

Now, in the market, there are so many large arbor reels available for you to choose. It all boils down to what is the best you can afford. Most importantly, make sure that the reel you choose balances with your rod, for to fish all day, comfort is paramount.

Fly Fish with Mel: How to Equip for a Trip to Maldives - Rods

2007-01-19T11:25:00.000+08:00

Fly-weight, Welter-weight or Heavy-weight?

The greatest enemy a fly angler might face while fishing the flats is wind. A mere 30km/h 'breeze' is enough to drastically reduce the distance you can fish; and any faster, ruin your fishing holiday.

In the Maldives, there will always be wind but between January and May, they are at their mildest. Even so, on the windward side of the island, where the pounding surf holds prowling GTs and Bluefins, you will need to contend with a constant, sometimes stiff breeze.

Typically, saltwater flats fishing requires a faster action-rod that has enough power to punch the line through a stiff breeze. Rods in the range of 6 wt - 10 wt are the norm for us.

A 6 wt rod is perfect for days of light breeze and for fishing in the lagoons (usually in the lee of the island). As the winds pick up or if you choose to fish on the windward side (the surf, as we call it), a 7 wt - 9 wt should help to give you a little more reach. The 10 wt, in our case, is used specifically to target big bruisers. Casting 4"- 6" synthetic Clouser minnows, huge GTs are the main target off the surf or in the deeper channels. A 10 wt rod comes in really handy to turn the fish from heading straight into the corals.

My arsenal of rods include a 5-piece Winston XTR5 6wt (9') , a 3-piece Sage RPLXi 8wt (9') and a 3-piece Sage RPL+ 6wt (10'), of which, the Winston is my favourite. With travelling restrictions on flights being so strict nowadays, The Winston XTR5 rod breaks down to 5-pieces that measure just below 24" and it comes with an aluminium tube which makes it packable into most luggages. However, since my other rods are of 3-piece configuration, I chose to make my own rod case but you can also buy them off the shelf. Perhaps I will write a "how-to" for the rod case.

The Winston XTR5 (XTR is short for extreme) is listed as having a 'very fast' action. Despite it being very light, this rod is capable of handling a stiff wind and heavy flies. I usually use a line one weight above my rod's rating. Over-lining the rod, I am able to really load the rod and make it work for me. This, of course, is a personal preference.

The 10' Sage RPL+ is a gem to cast. The extra length translates into, more distance for the rod tip to travel to build up line speed. This translate to less power on my stroke since the rod does most of the work for me. On this rod, I also utilize a line one weight heavier.

My Sage RPLXi is the only rod that I do not overline. Being an 8 wt rod, it is able to handle most wind conditions on the flats, except, maybe a howling gale. I match this rod with a Scientific Angler 8wt Bonefish Taper Intermediate line.

Some of the other rods that the group have tried using include:

Winston XTR 6wt - 8wt

Winston Boron IIx 6wt - 10wt (Ultra light and slightly 'slower' than the XTR)

Sage XP 5 wt

Redington CPS 8wt

In a nutshell, bring along a faster rod to handle the changing wind conditions but most importantly, bring the rods that will allow you to enjoy the targeted species without being overkill. If the biggies come and take your offering, pray hard and play hard. With a little luck, you just might land that fish, even on a small rod.

Fly Fish with Mel: What You need to Know for a Successful Fly Fishing Trip to the Maldives?

2007-01-17T20:49:00.000+08:00

Fly Fishing Season Begins

With the change of winds from the Southwest to the Northeast, the saltwater flyfishing season in the Maldives is about to begin in earnest. Traditionally, the months between January to May have been the best for wading the flats in search for bonefish, trevallies and a whole host of other tropical species.

So if you have booked a trip to the Maldives and are not not sure what to expect, you've come to the right place.

In these upcoming posts, I will try to provide, hopefully, an in-depth guide to Fly Fishing the Maldives.

Guiding Services

Quite unlike the posh and well-oiled guiding services in the Americas and the Caribbean, the Maldivians are not as well-equipped or as adept at guiding the flats but provide excellent guiding services for the fisherman interested in popping the reefs.

What you do get is a decent Safari Dhoni that serves as Motherboat for the duration of your trip. If you opt to pay a little more, it can even be an air-conditioned Dhoni. The crew will see to your every need. 3 regular meals plus snacks of biscuits and coffee or tea in-between will ensure that you maintain your strength for the long treks along the white sands.

Utilizing a fibreglass dinghy with a small outboard, the crew will ferry you and your mates to and from shore. However, once you are on land, you're on your own.

So how do you know where to go to find the fish? For us, we have been going to the Maldives for the past decade. Combining knowledge gathered from reading periodicals and publications on flats fishing and sheer hard work, we've accumulated a wealth of knowledge. Thus we have become our own guides.

Location! Location! Location!

Not all islands are created equal. Just as, not all atolls are created equal. Maldives is blessed with many small islands grouped into atolls. Male, the capital of Maldives, is located in North Male Atoll. The majority of resorts are situated on various islands in North Male Atoll, making it a short journey by fast ferry. Seaplanes provide a faster, albeit, a more expensive mode of transfer to the resorts. It is also the only mode of transport feasible to reach some of the other resorts situated much further away in other atolls.

Our past experiences have been concentrated mainly on two atolls, Lhaviyani and Noonu. Buying a map of Maldives (refer to me previous posts) will show you which islands are suitable for fly fishing. A yellow island with a sizeable band of green will point to a large area of sand flats that should be accessible for most parts of the tide; except, perhaps the highest. Unfortunately, that's where the info trail ends. Of course, by talking to the captain and the crew of the charter, you should be able to gain some local knowledge of where and how to find the elusive Bonefish or locally known as Meemas.

However, I should add that fly fishing in the Maldives is not all that difficult. You should be able to find fish on the flats rather easily. I dare guarantee that any first timer to the Maldives who can throw forty to fifty feet of line in moderate winds, will be able to enjoy a good time with bluefin trevallies and darts. As for the bonefish, they're not called 'Ghosts of the Flats' for nothing.

For more info, here are some contacts for guiding services:

Mario Tagliante (Maldives): mario@thetags-sportfishing.com

William Han (Singapore): willhan@singnet.com.sg

Or just drop me an email if you can any questions.

Next: How to equip yourself for a trip in the Maldives

Fly Fish with Mel: First Post for 2007, First Post in a year

2007-01-16T21:37:00.000+08:00

It's been a year since I last posted my series on my Maldives trip. Since then, I've been on another "pilgrimage". In the last year, new ties have been made while some old ones were severed. In a small country like Singapore where the fly fishing community is small and the number of fishing holes even lesser, it never amazes me how difficult it is to unite ourselves for a greater cause.

I hope that 2007 will be a better year for us. There are rumours that another reservoir will be opened soon for fishing.

"Isn't that good news?"

Maybe not.

" Why not", you may ask?

Well, there are a few simple reason.

For one, if the idea of opening up the reservoir for fishing with artificials is to restrict us to a 50m wooden fishing platform, as was the case at Bedok Reservoir, then it might be better off that it remains closed. Not only was the platform not conducive for lure or fly fishing due to the awkward height of the handrails that flank the platform, it was also built above land instead of over water. I can go on and on about the flaws of the design but I guess, I should keep that as a separate post on 'How to design Platforms for fishing with Artificials'.

Besides the inadequacies of the facilities, there is a serious lack of proper rules and enforcement to maintain a productive fishery to keep the fishing interest going. What good does it do to have rules that ban the use of livebait when hordes of fishermen are still using 6" live catfish, live shrimp, live goldfish, chicken liver, etc at 'legal' fishing areas while lure and fly anglers are stopped by enforcement officers for fishing just 500m off the legal areas.

Personally, I've tried calling the authorities to report the use of livebait. But instead of getting an immediate response, I was told that they would have to call the 'relevant' authority to send their officers. Leaving my contact number, I went for breakfast and after two hours. When I passed by the fishing jetty on my way home, there they were, the same bunch of fishermen happily dunking their live and wriggling offerings.

In the US of A; in Europe; downunder in Australia; fishing is good because there are proper rules that dictate what can be taken and what has to be returned to maintain the fish stocks. Fishing licenses also provide finances to employ and train qualified rangers to enforce the rules. the money also contributes to re-stocking programs that ensures that there will always be a good supply of fish to keep anglers happy.

Indiscriminate keeping of under-sized fish and also potential breeders by local recreational fishermen, add to that the audacious use of drag nets by Thai and other foreign workers have worked together to greatly diminish a once fantastic fishery.

So it really remains to be seen, if the opening of yet another reservoir is going to be a boon or bane for our local sportfishermen.

Well, it pains me to have to re-start my blogging with such a negative note but perhaps, in my coming updates, I can provide some insights into what a fly angler or sportfisherman is looking for in the earnest pursuit of our passion.

Fly Fish with Mel: Return to Paradise (Maldives) Day 5

2006-01-29T01:02:00.000+08:00

Day 5:

We were going to be privilege guests at Mario’s ‘private bonefish yard’, affectionately called Little Bay or LB for short. Having spent the night out of Kurendhoo meant that we had to watch our water consumption or there’d not be enough water for us to use for bathing and cleaning.

The morning session had us fishing a small island that Mario had told us about the day before. It was so small that it took us a bare 5 minutes to walk round the whole island. There were a few nice bays but only Lee and Andy managed to tease up a couple of bluefin trevallies. The rest of the gang had to settle for a nice morning stroll until we all agreed that we should head back for an early lunch.

Mario then suggested that we head over to his ‘personal’ island for the afternoon session as he was certain there’d be some bonefish to be had there.

Little Bay or LB as he affectionately calls it was only 20 minutes away from where we were so it was a leisurely cruise after lunch to get there. But when we got there, the heavens were about to open up on us.

As the first of the two boat loads got underway, the view back was ominous. A dark curtain was looming over our boat and as we neared shore, Mashibaru was covered in a hazy layer of rain. The winds started howling and the tiny outboard was struggling to get us ashore. It heaved over each crest and lunged forward into each trough.

With five of us, overfed anglers, and Hussain, the little hull was close to floundering in the choppy surf. The meters counted down and not a minute too soon, we make landfall; just as the rain came down hard on us.

The scene of the little boat, free from its burden, seemingly skipping over the whitecaps would have been a funny one if it did not have to make another such trip with the second load. The waters may look shallow but it would take some time for you to reach the bottom.

When the 2 groups got together, we huddled on the leeward side of a small cove and lay our rods horizontal on the tree branches. As fate would have it, the water bodies on either side of the cove were doused in rain water but where we took shelter, there was hardly a drizzle and to add salt to the wound, several banded trevallies swam by us. No one was about to take chances waving our 9ft lightning conductors around.

Not long after, the rain stopped and the group fanned out across the cove while some headed straight for the surf. From afar, one could not be faulted for mistaking us for a Search and Rescue combing the bay for someone or something. Spaced 15 – 20m apart, we advanced as a wall, probing every inch of the water ahead of us but to no avail.

Looking up, I saw a bent rod near the surf and no prizes for guessing who was onto a specimen of a GT. Gerard had seen a huge GT but the first cast was ignored. Plucking the fly out of the water, his second cast hit the brute on the shoulder and in a flash, turned and inhaled the fly. I was in the process of winding up and making my way across to him when suddenly, I saw the rod straighten, eased from the raging fish. It was not until we got back to the boat did I find out that the whole braided loop had slipped off the fly line.

The rest of the afternoon went by without much action except for Michael’s capture of a bonefish. He’d walked out to sandbar near where we’d disembarked.

He calls it the ‘Bahamas’. There, he had spotted the whole school feeding at the bottom. Casting his 'Carrot' fly, he teased a single fish into taking his fly and then worked his quarry back into his waiting arms.

That was to be the last action of the day as we headed back for dinner.

Fly Fish with Mel: Return to Paradise (Maldives) Day 4

2006-01-22T14:01:00.000+08:00

Day 4:

Day four had us cutting across the atoll to Dhiffushi, also coined by us, ‘Watermelon Island’. It used to be a watermelon plantation but now it has been converted to a coconut plantation. Once again, Mario met us at the island to join us for another session of flats fishing.

This day was going to be different from the rest as we had a lot of ground that we could cover. Arrangements were made for lunch to be served on the island. This would cut down our traveling time to and from the motherboat and give us more time on the flats.

As we got down to business, Gerard was again first off the start line with his second largest GT of the trip (pipping Michael’s fish at the scales). Walking along the shore, he spotted the critter plying the waters just by the shore. Casting a 4-inch, olive size 2/0 Clouser, the GT gave no quarter to the fly and took off for the wild blue yonder. Hardly breaking a sweat, the chunk of pure muscle stripped the fly line and then, the backing at a blistering pace.

But our champion of the flats was always up to the challenge with his 250m of PE4 backing. Letting the freight train tire itself out fighting not just the Able Super 6’s drag but also the increasing line drag in the water, Gerard put the brakes on the fish. Turning the tables around, he placed the fish on a one way ticket back.

True to its form, the fish never gave up fighting but it was a foregone conclusion as to who was going to win the battle. With a last gasp run, the GT had used up its remaining rocket fuel and finally succumbed to the triumphant Gerard. The victor then lifted his defeated foe quite ignominiously for photos; with his leg.

By now, I was getting really fed up with the fly line clip as sand kept getting stuck causing the clip to loose its grip. Besides that, the surf was pulling line out of the clip as well. So after a fruitless morning, while Michael and I were resting under a tree seeking refuge from the relentless sun, I came across a blue oil drum. Opening the cap, there was hardly any smell of oil so I dragged it to the water’s edge and flipped out my Swiss army knife. Making cut after cut, I managed to fashion a pretty cool makeshift stripping basket with two slots for my belt.

Next came the intensive scrubbing with sand to make sure that whatever leftover scum was cleaned. My Scientific Anglers 7-wt floating bonefish line was also pretty worn so I grabbed Wahab and had him send me back to our motherboat to get a replacement line. On board, I quickly whipped out my new Monic 7-wt Tropical Clear floating line and swapped the two lines.

I grabbed a couple of the ripe, yellow bananas hanging in the corner and back I went to shore. For those who have not been to the Maldives, it may be taboo to have bananas onboard in Australia, it certainly is not in the Maldives. Every trip begins with a huge bunch of green bananas hung up in a corner of the deck. As we travel, day by day, the bananas slowly ripen and thus we always had a steady supply of natural power food at least for the first few days.

Back on the island, I started casting with my new line and what a difference it made. I had line shooting out with ease. The slickness of the Monic line is incredible. Anyway, I changed tactics and started to concentrate on the small coral patches in front of me and plucked out fish after fish. There were honeycomb groupers,

paddletail snappers,

long-nosed emperors,

swallowtail darts

and small bluefin trevallies. Nothing of commendable size but it was lots of fun nonetheless.

Lunch was served not long after. The crew had brought Tuna and Egg sandwiches, coffee, tea and milo. Wahab and Hussain even cut coconuts for us to drink. There was also the much needed odd can of coke or sprite, though it was never ice-cold. Noting that we had every one of the group and even Mario with us, we huddled together and got our apprentice photographer, Wahab, to take a few group shots. Then, after lunch, Mario left to keep his wife, Louise, company. She’d flown in a week earlier and would be leaving the same day as us.

Seeing my new stripping basket, Mah and Gan, got busy themselves and went oil drum hunting and get themselves a new basket each. We then trekked through the plantation to get to the other side of the island. Walking through the narrow well-worn path, we stumbled through the opening onto a small patch of beach that lined a very beautiful shallow lagoon with 'fish' written all over it.

Pairing up with Gerard, we waded to the middle of the lagoon, carefully following the whiter patch of water that charted out the shallow waters. I’m not sure if it was his polarized sunglasses or just his eyes but Gerard could always spot a fish way before I did and sometimes even when I couldn’t see at all. He saw the first Banded trevally beyond the glare and shot his clouser out.

One strip, two strip and he had the fish firmly hooked up. He said he saw a school of them feeding around but I could see none of them. So I continued to cast blindly until his fish came in. The trevally was of reasonable size but faced with the power of the 7-wt Winston XTR, it was only a matter of a few minutes before the fish succumbed to its power.

Out and under went the camera and a couple of clicks later, the fish swam happily away, albeit a little disoriented as it started to hide between our legs and around us before scooting off.

Around the middle of the lagoon, the water started getting deeper forcing us to turn left to comb towards the surf. Being in this position, meant that we could fish the outer depths of the lagoon and, at the same time, cover the inner, shallow areas.

It was my turn next. I saw the banded trevally very late but just as it was heading away from me, I cast to its left and slightly ahead. While waiting for the crab to sink, I twitched the line to gain the fish’s attention. Then, I started to strip the crab in with a moderate retrieve-pause-retrieve. I could see the fish turn and then pounce on the crab. Nothing beats seeing your quarry react to your offering.

That’s the magic of fly fishing! That moment of spotting your adversary, to the cast, to the retrieve and the point when the fish reacts to your fly, is something that we, fly anglers, lust for. The hookup is of course preferred but not necessarily as breathtaking as the take.

The feisty little fellow took me for a long ride, preferring to swim about in circles rather than in towards me. By the time I had it in my hands, it was almost on the verge of asphyxiating. I tried my best to revive the fish but each time I let it go, the fish would sink to the bottom.

Gerard came over and lent me a hand in reviving the fish and after 5 long, anxious minutes, the banded trevally regained enough strength to swim away. We both heaved a sigh of relief.

No more than 20 meters from where I’d caught my trevally, Gerard sighted another banded trevally, but this time, a mere 6 feet away from him, swimming towards him. He asked me to cast to it while he dragged his clouser in front of the fish. Without stripping or casting, the fish gulped down his clouser and hooked itself. This had had to be the easiest catch of the whole trip! He quickly landed the fish and let it off on its way.

Nearer the surf, we started to notice schools of turquoise parrot fish and rays swimming around but they were too spooky for us to approach or even cast our fly. So we sloshed our way to the surf in the hope of finding some nice GTs. This surf was very uneven with broken corals and loose rocks strewn around the seabed. I struggled with the pounding surf while Gerard cast away merrily. I will always remember an old friend telling me that I can only catch fish if my fly was in the water and not in the air. And so it was that Gerard, with his fly in the water, added another bluefin to his tally while I wrestled with my tangled line in the surf. Nothing big but strong nonetheless and it propelled itself past us and into the lagoon behind us before giving up.

We had not realized that Mah and Gan had followed us to the surf and were themselves into bluefin. As we headed back to the landing point, we left the pair in the midst of another bluefin blitz.

Fly Fish with Mel: Return to Paradise (Maldives) Day 3

2006-01-21T21:06:00.000+08:00

Day 3:

We were supposed to meet up with Mario, our italian friend who runs a fishing charter service out of Kanu Huraa Resort. 10 minutes after we set sail, Mario called and told us to go to Dhidhdhoo, which happened to be just couple of islands away from us. He would meet us there and fish with us for a couple of hours.

Dhidhdhoo is located northwest of Kurendhoo, just before Maavaafushi. Past trips to this island had yielded numerous bonefish and bluefin trevallies. However, we had never had to pay to go on the island to fish. This time though, we were told that we had to pay an 'entrance' fee of US$1. Ibrahim tried calling the owner of the island and after a few attempts, got the clearance for us to proceed.

A unique local dish, Mashuni, was served at breakfast. A flavourful blend of freshly dried tuna flakes, fragrant grated coconut, chopped spicy hot chilli, chopped onions and a splash of lime juice; it is eaten wrapped in a flour shell, not unlike our local chapatti. The nutty flavour of the coconut complimented the oily tuna while the acidic lime juice prevented the oils from overwhelming the tastebuds. The spicy chilli and sweet onion added more bite and rounded up the flavours of this very simple, yet delectable dish.

After breakfast, we began our usual ritual of gearing up while the crew launched the dinghy. “First five, get ready!” goes the call. Soon we’re back on the fine sands of Dhidhdhoo.

Michael, William, Lee, Andy and I spread out towards the left side of the island, while the rest of the team found their own niches on the right. Not long after landfall, over the horizon, we saw a sport-fishing boat heading towards Mashibaru.

It was Mario’s Keyolha. Wahab took the dinghy back out and brought Amin back to receive our guest. An exchange of greetings later, the pair was back on the beaches, rod in hand.

In the pristine waters, with only a slight ripple, we were able to spot a few bonefish but when presented with our flies, they merely turned away. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted some movement and there was Michael with rod bent and definitely onto a good fish.

Making my way across the hundred odd meters to him, Michael was just beginning to bring the fish in. Taking out my camera, I put it underwater and awaited opportunities to take a few underwater shots.

We were both guessing that it could be a bonefish from the way it was taking line but as it turned out, it was a fair-sized bluefin trevally. After the customary poses with our model, it was released safely back into the water. We relished the sight of it swimming strongly away, back into the depths.

Having covered the flats, Michael, William and I turned towards the surf on the other side of the island. There was a flat area of rock that offered us good footing. The line clip that I had hanging at my waist was giving me a hard time in the surf, with water pounding me every few seconds. I had my line pulled out so often that I hardly had any time to cast my line.

Michael, on the other hand had his line out beyond the breakers. Again, he was to be the one to latch on to a mother of a GT.

This time, he had his rod bending so hard that he was literally using only the butt section of the rod to apply pressure on the fish. Foot after foot of backing kept peeling off the whirring reel. All he could do was to hang on and slowly turned up his drag 2 clicks at a time. Then, with the last 2 clicks, the GT stopped pulling line off the reel.

Sensing it was his turn to throw punches, Michael switched to high gear. Alternating with steady pressure from his rod and reeling in line, Michael made up for lost line in a short time. As it came closer to shore, the GT must have sensed danger and went on a long run across the rocky surf. Somehow managing to avoid getting cut off, Michael turned the GT’s head and proceeded to drag the brute in. Again, with camera ready,

I started snapping picture after picture above and below the water. Removing the 15lbs Bogagrip from Michael’s backpack, I tried to grab the lip of the tired but still unyielding creature. The jaws of the Bogagrip was barely wide enough to grip the lip of the GT.

Only by forcing one jaw of the Bogagrip into the bottom of the fish’s jaw and then over the lip, was I able to finally to get a firm grip of the fish. Lifting it up proved difficult with one hand as the scale was way over the 15lbs it was rated for.

A few quick snaps and we let the gangster return to its wayward, bullying way.

I had my share of fun too, though it was only short–lived. The rampaging bluefin trevally made 3 dashes across inches of water and finally cut me off one of the numerous sharp rocks strewn generously across the lagoon. A familiar growl in our stomachs reminded us of the time and we made our way gingerly over the rocks and then, the sand, to the beach to our waiting ride.

Back on the boat we found out that Gerard and Mah had had a fantastic time over on the right side of the island. After walking the stretch of beach, Gerard spotted a whole school of darts, a tremendous school numbering in the hundreds. Both anglers let loose a cast at the school; Gerard with a crab pattern and Mah, a crazy Charlie. Letting the crab sink, Gerard employed a slow retrieve, dragging the fly on the bottom. Mah, on the other hand, used a fast retrieve.

Gerard was first to connect. The fish made short work of the drag, taking Gerard into his backing in mere seconds.

Mah felt the Charlie stop in its tracks and then he too was into his backing.

"This has got to be a huge dart!" Mah thought. If it was a dart, it would have to have been on steroids?

Both anglers skillfully played their quarry and landed their respective fish only to discover, they had a double hookup on bonefish! The bonefish had been feeding beneath the school of dart. Now who said that you had to strip slowly for bonefish to take a fly?

Walking further, Gerard saw a whole area full of turtle grass. Turtle grass is synonymous with bonefish as they feed amongst the grass for crustaceans and shrimps. In the midst of changing his fly, Gerard caught glimpse of a sight that would make any grown angler cry. There, a mere few feet ahead, amidst the grass, the unmistakable shape of a bonefish feeding. However, instead of the urge to finish tying the fly and casting. He simply stopped whatever he was doing and lapped up the phenomenal sight before him.

After lunch, we all held the hope of coming across that school of dart and perhaps, a chance at hooking one of those feeding bonefish. However, it was not to be. Not only were the dart not in sight, there was hardly any sign of the other species as well. By the end of the day, the only silver lining was provided by William with his first fish on fly, a small Honeycomb Grouper (Epinephelus merra).

Fly Fish with Mel: Return to Paradise (Maldives) Day 2

2006-01-11T00:21:00.000+08:00

Day 2:

Sleeping on the top deck, the roaring of the engine brought me back from dreamland. One by one we rolled our mattresses, pillows and blankets into one giant 'swiss-roll' and proceeded to descend back into our cabins to put away our stuff. Everyone was bright and chirpy, even Michael, who was still nursing his sore throat and cough. Coffee, tea and milo was served with sausages, omelettes and baked beans. There was also a choice of the local toasted bread or our very own Gardenia, which travelled with us over from Singapore.

While we tucked ourselves into a very hearty breakfast, Ibrahim plotted a course west-north-west to Maavaafushi. An hour later, we were all ready for our first full day of fishing. Five of us eagerly boarded the small boat and headed to shore. When we got to shore, Moses exclaimed: "Who took my rod?!" Everyone checked and found that we each had our own. Michael went to have a look at the rod Moses was holding and discovered that he had taken Michael's 9wt Winston XTR. This had us all bowling over in laughter. When we had composed ourselves, the first wave went in separate directions.

Walking with Gerard, we spread out to cover more water and soon enough we were on to something. Combing the flats to the left of the island, Gerard spotted a school of mullets. From experience, there was a possibility of bonefish following behind mullet schools. Through polarized glasses, Gerard scanned intensely and made out some dark forms behind the school. "Bonefish following the mullets", Gerard yelled and let go a cast. I was still trying to locate the school which was hard to spot in the glistening water surface. Even with my glasses on, the glare was still preventing me from seeing the fish.

"Fish on!" cried Gerard, as the purring of his reel grew louder, drowning his voice. It was like music to our ears. The individual clicks of the Abel Super 6 mixed into a single continuous melody.

The bonefish had seen his crab and turned from the school and in a flash, sucked it into its down-turned mouth. Feeling the crunching of the crab, Gerard pulled the line tight and the silver torpedo launched itself towards the open waters, effectively setting the hook itself.

The rod bucked but the 33lbs bite tippet held and the tug of war raged with each side gaining and losing line a few times. Winding my line up, I prepared to help Gerard with the photo session. Each time he put line back on the spool, in the blink on an eye, with line streaking through the water, his adversary had him into his backing again.

Wearing the fish out, Gerard finally had the leader within reach. It was a nice 2½lbs Bonefish (Albula vulpes). A few quick snaps above and underwater and the fish was released safely.

Then, came a call of nature and I had to scramble to find secluded spot to dump my load. Returning to the beach, there ahead of my by the shoreline were 3 long shadows. Quickly, stripping the belly out of rod, I took a few slow steps forward as far as I could without spooking the fish. With 2 back cast, I let fly the size 2 crab to the side of the school. With a "plop", the crab landed 2 feet to the right. Too close, I thought. Thankfully, not only did the fish not get spooked, one of the three turned towards my crab. One short strip and the fish turned tail and ran. The line ran through the loop made by my thumb and index finger and slapped onto the blank.

"Whrrrrrrrr..." the handle of the reel, lost in a blur. The first run took me into my backing. Seeing the line cut through the water throwing up a mini rooster tail like that of a F1 powerboat, I was sure it was a bonefish. My first bone! Or so I thought. A 20lbs bite tippet seemed overkill when fishing for peacock bass back home but here I was not sure if it was going to be enough to keep my fish on for long. Applying just enough pressure to turn the fish but not pop the tippet, I worked the fish towards me but it would be another two more runs before I’d get to see the fish up close. And close it was.

They looked so much alike and well, they fought so much alike that I’d thought I’d caught my bone. It turned out to be a Double-barred Goatfish (Parupeneus bifasciatus). Out came the camera for the customary mug-shot but this fish was destined to be on our table. Sorry mate.

Hanging around, I continued to scour the shallows for the tell-tale shadows of the bonefish on the bottom. The wind had died down leaving a mirror calm surface that was great for spotting fish but which also made them more easily spooked. Then Michael called out to me: "Mel, 10 o’clock." Turning round, there, lying not more than 60 feet away from me, the distinctive torpedo shape of a huge bonefish. Not wanting to spook the fish, I made a couple of false casts and dropped the fly to the side of the fish. It came up 10 feet short. The fish made no move to suggest it had been frightened. Another cast this time closer but ahead of the fish but still no response. Slowly, the fish cruised away. Was it not feeding or was it my crab fly?

Unconvinced, I continued to fish with the crab. Ahead of me down the length of the beach, the rest of the team had taken up stations about 40 – 50 feet apart. Next came William’s hail:" Mel, bonefish coming towards you!" Looking to my right down the beach, I couldn’t see anything and then there it was, as if magically materializing from thin air, a long bluish shape. Somehow the slightly deeper water and the blue sky had given the mirror-like scales a bluish tint that made it easily seen at close distances.

I made a quick cast when it was about 40 feet away and then waited for the crab to hit bottom. I gave it a quick, short strip to get the fish's attention and then slowly dragged the crab on the bottom. I saw it move over but it didn’t seem to have reached my fly when I felt the resistance. Just as I stripped to strike, the fish took off at the same instance. I was left with a broken piece of 20lbs tippet and one crab less.

After picking on a few small Bluefin Trevallies, it was time to head back to Mashibaru for lunch. With all accounted for, Gerard was the only one still out fishing. Hailing him on the radio got no response. So we waited for him onboard. Amidst our chattering, the little outboard coughed to life and left to pick-up our straggling Gerard. A few minutes later, we heard shouting from afar and got up to see Gerard waving frantically, a colossal GT hanging from his Boga Grip. We jumped up and headed to the stern to greet him. I grabbed my video cam and proceeded to the top deck to film his 'triumphant' return.

With the dinghy alongside, we saw a hand pass the Boga-grip to Ibrahim who struggled to pull its load aboard. Next we saw a silvery gray body, that didn’t seem to end, slowly slide aboard the boat. It was huge. When Gerard handed the rod to Ibrahim while he pulled himself up, I heard what should amount to be the quote of the trip. "You caught this fish on THIS rod", a look of utter disbelief on Ibrahim’s face. Smiles broke out on everyone’s face. The Boga-grip’s scale almost maxed out. 28 ½ lbs!!!

Gerard had spotted the fish cruising lazily along the flats. Changing from a crab to a 4-inch camo and bucktail white clouser, the grey giant turned the instant the fly hit the water and charged into it. There was no need to strike as the ferocity of the take and the subsequent take-off had the clouser firmly embedded in the top of its mouth just in front of its fearsome crusher plates. With the grey hulk going off at top gear, all Gerard could do was to hang on. Having just upgraded his reel with 250m of PE4 backing, Gerard was only too glad to let the 'gangster of the reef' bulldoze its way around the relatively flat ground before him.

Increasing the drag of his Abel Super 6 two clicks at a time, he started to turn the fish once he felt the fish unable to take line off his spool. The 7-wt Winston Boron IIx bent to its full flex, Gerard artfully used the butt power of the rod, coupled with the drag of his reel to muscle the monster back towards shore. Like a mismatch between a heavyweight champion against a flyweight boxer, the two opponents exchanged punches and dodged blows. The match lasted a full half hour before David overpowered Goliath.

Being alone and having been tired out by the long-drawn battle, Gerard could only muster the energy to lip-grip and drag the fish to landing point. Getting Wahab to be the photographer, he posed with the fish for a few shots before attempting to revive the fish. However, the long battle plus the photo session took its toll on the GT. So they hauled it aboard the dinghy and returned to the motherboat. His hands were still shaking as he shared the story over lunch.

Seemingly re-charged by the GT episode, Michael seemed even more ready to hit the surf, despite his cough. Taking down his 8wt Winston XTR and Abel Super 7, Michael was one of the first in the dinghy. Once on the beach, He made his way towards the surf while the rest of us continued our hunt for bonefish and whatever came our way. However, it was not to be that afternoon as most of us either managed only small fish or none at all.

We'd be staying out that night so Ibrahim found us a parking spot just inside the lagoon on the leeward side of the island. All of us were worn out from a whole day of walking. Michael’s cough was acting up again and so after dinner, it was cough syrup and off to bed. William and I tried our hand at bottom fishing. Jigging turned up nothing so I switched to bait like William who had already pulled up 2 small Barracudas and a small Long-nosed emperor. Not long after, I had a hard pull and proceeded to haul up a 3lbs Long-nosed emperor, a great fish to end the day with.

Sitting in a deck chair on the top deck, I relished the solitude while enjoying the beauty of a sky full of stars, with the occasional shooting star. Very soon, I was nodding off to sleep, so out came the 'swiss roll' and so ended day 2.

Fly Fish with Mel: Return to Paradise (Maldives) Day 1

2006-01-09T19:48:00.000+08:00

These next few postings will be a series of daily logs of my last fly fishing trip in the Maldives that I had the privilege of participating in last February. I hope that I'm able to adequately chronicle our adventure for your reading pleasure.

CAUTION: Long Post

Day 1:

To most of this Coho team, it would be a much anticipated return to our fishing paradise. However, for a few of us, this would be a first. William (Team Guide), Michael (Owner of Coho Fishing Tackle), Gerard, Amin, Lee and I, have made this 2102 mile (3382 km) journey quite a few times. However, for Andy, Mah, Gan and Moses, it was to be their virgin fishing safari to the Maldives.

With a recent trip report bearing less than positive news of strong winds and a mediocre result, the team nonetheless carried high hopes of trading blows with some of the 'Gangsters of the Surf', the Giant Trevally (Caranx ignobilis,) and a chance to spot and, hopefully, land a few 'Ghosts of the Flats', the Bonefish (Albula vulpes).

Armed to the teeth and toting rod tubes bearing a brand name like 'Bazooka', it was no wonder we were greeted with apprehensive stares from the airport personnel. With no real incidents, we arrived slightly before midnight to our awaiting host, Mohammed, who promptly led us to a Dhoni, or a boat taxi, that would send us to our Safari Dhoni, the Mashibaru.

Once aboard, the team went about arranging their gears and their quarters before settling down for the night.

The sun rises early in this part of the world; 5.30am to be precise. The crew, captained by Ibrahim, had the boat leaving the harbour even before the whole team had awoken. Roused from their slumber by the steady drone of the engine, one by one, the team members began preparing for what was to be a long 8 hour journey to our fishing ground, Faadhippolhu Atoll, formerly known as, Lhaviyani Atoll.

2 trolling rods, one paired with an Accurate; the other, a Penn International 30, trailed a Halco and a Rapala CD18 respectively. With the lures out, the team began to set up the fly arsenal that included rods from Sage and Winston to reels from Ross and Abel. Ranging from 6-weight to 10-weight rods, there were enough rods to arm our team three times over.

Over the din of jovial bantering came Ibrahim's voice: "On!" In a split second, everyone was at battle-stations at the stern of the boat. Both the Penn and the Accurate had line peeling in a blur. Gerard was on the 'fighting chair' while Mah took the rod standing. It seemed like a double hook up. Gerard started pumping the fish in an attempt to gain line. The boat was slowed and both rods started to put line back on the spool. However, the two lines had intertwined together. With one rod kept in tension, the other rod was passed over and under to clear the twist. When both lines were separated, it soon became clear that the rod Mah was holding that had the hookup. Wanting to return the rod back to its rightful owner, Mah handed it to Amin who proceeded to wind back the already rapidly tiring fish.

A white dot began to grow as it got closer and soon the form of a huge Great Barracuda (Sphyraena barracuda)materialized in the clear waters below us.

It was a monstrosity of a fish, tipping the scales at over 20kg.

Would this herald the beginning of a fantastic trip? No one dared to say but I believe that in everyone's heart, a little spark was starting to ignite a small fire that would burn harder and brighter as the days went by.

It was arranged that we would have a short session on the island of Maduvvari. As Ibrahim found us a good spot to weigh anchor, the team got to work gearing up with eager anticipation. It was a scene much akin to a squad preparing for a mission, with the battle-hardened squad leaders going about their tasks with a certain nonchalant proficiency. While the new recruits fumbled with unfamiliar gear and displaying expressions of hope, apprehension and excitement. Mind you that these are not inexperienced fly-fishermen. But with the immense array of equipment and gear, we were spoilt for choice as to what was needed and what was good to have. Vests, Camelbak water packs, Stripping baskets, Boga-grips, rods and reels. We had to balance mobility with functionality.

The small, green dinghy was powered by a 4hp Yamaha outboard. The first wave brought 4 to the beach with the other 4 coming in the second wave. As Michael was down with fever, William had volunteered to stay onboard to accompany him. My Motorola Talkabout squawked and I heard Michael asking us to bring some fish back for dinner. Gerard, Mah and I, headed to the right of the island while the rest of the group either hung around the landing point or proceeded left.

Maduvvari is a small island that you can fish round in about 45 mins. The leeward side of the island has vegetation right to the edge of the beach with pockets of flats with good back cast space.

Treading lightly in the water with Mah about 20m ahead of me, I made blind casts into the brown coral patches with my new nameless fly, a recipe I had concocted on the boat while on the way here. With a very slow strip, I worked my fly back towards me, bouncing it over the corals beneath. With the leader hanging out and the fly still in the water, I turned to make my way after Mah. Just as the fly started to move, I felt the fly line tug at my fingers and my rod started to flex a little. I raised the rod and slowly pulled the line in and "Zzzzzziiiiiiiip!" I guided the remaining fly line back to the rod and then let the reel take over. Palming lightly, I tried to turn the fish and managed to disorient it enough to make it swim back towards me.

With less than 10m, the fish took one look at me and went ballistic, peeling line off my spool at a mind boggling speed. I was beginning to worry about my line getting cut off amidst the corals beneath so I applied as much pressure as I dared and once again turned the fish shore-wards.

Reeling in as fast as the fish was swimming in, I was soon to my leader again and I caught my first glimpse of my piscatorial adversary; a nice table-size Yellowlip Emperor (Lethrinus xanthochilus).

Barely 15mins after making landfall, and I already had the fish for dinner. The only problem was how to lug the fish around. I had only a small Camelbak backpack with hardly any space for anything else. So, I lipped the fish with my Boga-grip and hung it off my belt. I had to be extra alert, in case, an over-zealous shark tried to cash in on a free lunch and my bum, of course.

Meanwhile, Mah, while watching my tussle with the emperor got a hit and started his own little skirmish. However, it was to be a short affair as he suddenly felt the line go limp. The fish had thrown the hook.

About 5pm, we radioed the boat to pick us up and we made way for Kurendhoo, where we would be spending the night. Ibrahim, the captain and, Hussain and Wahab, the deckhands are natives of Kurendhoo while Susantha, the cook, is a Sri Lankan. There we would have dinner and have our freshwater topped up for the next day's excursion.

On board, we had the first of many updates; Gerard had hooked a humongous Titan Triggerfish (Balistoides viridescens) on a crab pattern. Gan scored a honeycomb grouper (Epinephelus merra) and a Banded Needlefish (Strongylura leiura) on a Crazy Charlie. William and Michael had been busy themselves, accounting for a few groupers and triggerfishes from bottom fishing.

Exchanging fly rods for some light tackle trolling; William and Gan began trolling from the stern of the Mashibaru.

Over at the bow of the boat, Mah and Gerard had a go at popping. On the approach to the coral reef on the edge of Kurendhoo , Mah's popper was engulfed in a wild splash and line started to pull off the spool. Using only a light popping rod and a small popper, Mah had a real fight in his hand.

Making his way gingerly to the stern while trying to maintain pressure on the fish, slowly but surely, he recovered line. Not giving in easily, the fish made a few more dashes back towards the coral heads. With slow and steady strokes, Mah finally coaxes a beautiful Green Jobfish (Aprion virescens) back to the waiting gaff.

When we got going again, the trolling duo turned up the heat with a double hookup. Gan wrestled a nice Black Grouper while William easily bullied a Yellowledge Lyretail (Variola louti,)

Along the outer walls of Kurendhoo harbour, were reminders of the power of the recent tsunami. Although spared largely due to the almost vertical nature of its geography, Maldives, nonetheless, felt Nature's fury. The 2 concrete walls, that was the entrance to the harbour, were all but washed away.

The outer wall had caved-in in a few areas and there was a deep undercut where the wall met the rocks. It was told to us that funding will be given to help rebuild the harbour walls.

Guiding her gently through the harbour mouth, Ibrahim found Mashibaru her berth and brought her to a stop.

At sunset, baitfish congregation in the harbour was at its greatest. A blanket of brown beneath the water surface, it would suddenly come to life in a magical dance as predators rounded them up from below. What sounded like sizzling oil was actually baitfish in the millions jumping out of the water, trying to escape from the jaws of death. From above, this struggle of life and death seemed like a magnificently choreographed musical fountain, swaying right one moment and then, left the next. And so, with the last light fading into the horizon, the enthralling performance ended as the school made their way out of the harbour. This amazing scene was to repeat itself over the next couple of nights we were anchored here.

Merry Chirstmas and a Happy New Year!

2005-12-24T10:49:00.000+08:00

A very big thank you for all who have visited my blog. I take this opportunity to wish each of you a very Blessed and Merry Chirstmas. May the peace of Christmas reside in you and your families. And may you all enjoy a Happy New Year. May there be more joy and plenty more fish in the coming year.

English: Merry Christmas and a happy new year!

Danish: Glædelig Jul og godt nytår!

Dutch: Vrolijk Kerstfeest en een Gelukkig Nieuwjaar!

Brazilian: Boas Festas!

Finnish: Hyvää Joulua or Hauskaa Joulua - 0nnellista uutta vuotta!

French: Joyeux Noël et Bonne Année!

German: Fröhliche Weihnachten und ein glückliches Neues Jahr!

Italian: Buon Natale e Felice Anno Nuovo!

Polish: Wesolych Swiat i Szczesliwego Nowego Roku!

Portuguese: Boas Festas e um feliz Ano Novo!

Slovakian: Vesele Vianoce a stastny novy rok!

Maltese: IL-Milied It-tajjeb!

Slovene: Vesele bozicne praznike in srecno novo leto!

Sorbian: Wjesole hody a strowe Nowe leto!

Spanish: Feliz Navidad y Próspero Año Nuevo!

Swedish: God Jul och Gott Nytt År!

Swiss (French): Joyeux Noel!

Philippine: Maligayang Pasko!

Chinese: 圣诞快乐与新年快乐!

Afrikaans: Geseende Kerfees en 'n gelukkige!

Bahasa/Malaysia: Selamat Hari Natal dan Tahun Baru!

Bohemian/Czech: Prejeme Vam Vesele Vanoce a Stastny novy rok!

Greek: Kala Christougenna Ki'eftihismenos O Kenourios Chronos!

Divehi: Ufaaveri aa ahareh!

Indonesian: Selamat Hari Natal & Selamat Tahun Baru!

Japanese: Shinnen omedeto. Kurisumasu Omedeto!

Korean: Sung Tan Chuk Ha!

Russian: Pozdrevlyayu s prazdnikom Rozhdestva i s Novim Godom!

Latin: Pax hominibus bonae voluntatis!

Mongolian: Zul saryn bolon shine ony mend devshuulye!

Norweigan/Nynorsk: Eg ynskjer hermed Dykk alle ein God Jul og Godt Nyttår!

Norweigan/Bokmål: God Jul og Godt Nyttår!

Romanian: Craciun fericit si un An Nou fericit!

Fly Fish with Mel: Cirque Du Soleil

2005-12-04T13:23:00.000+08:00

Quidam - He who is annonymous

He was annonymous. Well, to me, in the beginning; he was. He was the one who offered Michael four tickets to watch his performance. Of which, one was for Huiru, Michael's daughter, and one was so kindly offered to me by Michael; denying himself a chance to watch. The other two tickets were also selflessly offered to a couple.

Even after a fanastic performance, He was still annonymous to me. QUIDAM was indeed a splendid blend of sights and sounds. A true feast for the senses and also, the intellect.

Annonymous, he remained. Until finally, he came by the shop when I happened to be there. From that moment a name replaced the annonymity. Tristan. The Guitarist; and fly angler.

From that day, it was to become a ritual. Michael and I would practice casting in the open field by the tentages. And without fail, Tristan would be attracted to us or rather, to the opportunity to practice casting. He would come by and greet us, shared a joke or two and then proceeded to have a hand at casting. "Don't you need to prepare for the show?", we'd ask. "I'm done with my sound check", he'd reply. "I've still got some time left."

Day after day, with helpful tips from Michael, Tristan's casting developed into a beautiful display of curves scything through the air. He'd learnt to slow his strokes down to the point where the energy transfer from arm to rod to line become one continuous flow. No jerks, no voilent movements. Just a rythmic wave of the magical wand that brought the inanimate line to life in an ethereal dance.

Soon, casting was just not enough for Tristan. And after hearing numerous stories of epic battles with monster Peacock Basses; and coming so frustratingly close to catching one, He was ready to for another try.

It was still dark when I rode my carriage up to his apartment. A warm smile greeted me as I shook hands with this tall New Yorker, holding his mug of coffee and eager to do his spot of fishing. During the short drive to my homewaters, White House, we chatted a bit about everything. He shared with me his life as a travelling performer and of his beautiful family; his wife, his daughter and his newborn son. While I told him about my hopes to become a fishing guide. Well, little did I know, that I was about to get my first taste of what it was like to be a guide.

Evrything else was as it would be like any normal day that I'd fish at White House. Only today, I'd be fishing with a 'clown'. Rigging up my '0' wt, I watched Tristan piece his '5' wt together, with the antipication oozing from every pore in his body. I asked if he had any flies and he showed me the few Clousers and Crazy Charlies he'd bought from Coho. He'd sent most of his flies home after performing and fishing in New Zealand. Knowing that he'd been longing to catch a PB, I knew I had to offer him my best performer. Just the night before, while preparing for this outing, I'd realised that my stock of 'Scintillator' flies were used up. Too late to do any tying, I was almost in a state of panic. Then I remembered my 'Sample' box. The one box where I kept the best tied of all my flies and also, those that have so kindly been offered to me by friends. True enough, there in it's irridescent glory, sat one solitary scintillator. That was for Tristan.

Standing a couple of feet from the water, Tristan pondered what to tie onto the business end of his line. I could see the coffee working hard to stimulate the brains to make the decision. So out came the Scintillator and it was Hobson's choice. Not really. That's because a friend of Tristan's had tied a 'Cirque Du Soleil' fly. A small streamer tied in yellow and blue, the Circus's distinctive colour. But it was to be the guide's recommendation that got the chance to start the day.

Nestled against the weed on the left of the grass patch was a nice little spot where I used to pull a couple of PBs every trip. So there it was the Tristan made his first cast. Explaining to him how to lay the line with a slight mend and how to work the fly, I let him enjoy working up his rythmn. The first dozen or so cast didn't even draw a follow.

Seeing this, I quickly led Tristan along the edge to the right. Acting as a spotter, I walked along the bank, a few feet back from the water's edge. In the ever brightening light, I had to put on my polarised lenses to see the fish more clearly and two rod-lengths down, a vague outline suddenly emerged as the slow waving tail of a Peacock Bass.

Half whispering, I called out to Tristan to drop his fly a few feet beyond where the fish was.

The first cast went sailing past the fish but was too far out. The fish was hugging close to shore. But not to waste the cast, I got Tristan to work the fly back in erratic retrieves. This was the time to test the mood of the fish. If it was in a feeding or aggitated mood, it would leave cover and bludgeon the fly. But the fish showed no signs of interest. On the next cast, Tristan laid the line directly over the fish. Fortunately, the fish was not spooked.

This time, as the Scintillator drew over the top of the fish, A huge swirl erupted from beneath, yet the it was a negative hook up. However, this sort of woke Tristan up from whatever state of consciousness he was in.

With renewed vigour, he ploughed the fly over the fish a half dozen more times before a huge bow wake homed in on the fly and Tristan was onto his first Singapore Peacock Bass.

Beneath that slight grimace on his face, a radiance beamed from within. No amount of fish that I would have caught that morning could give me the same joy that I felt watching Tristan relish each headshake, each run, each turn of the spool. When the fish was landed 5 minutes later and safely cradled in his hands, I took that all important photo of the beaming clown and his equally colourful adversary.

With the release of his fish, Tristan came over and said to me:"You have all the qualities to become a fantastic guide." Praise that was music to my ears but did I really deserve it?

Along that bank, we walked, spotted and cast to a few more fish. They weren't very co-operative that morning but Tristan still managed to pull another PB from it's sanctuary.

As I led him to the small outlet, I eplained to Tristan that it would be a different ballgame compared to the banks. The water was deeper in most areas but rocky bottom would ensure a one-way ticket for most flies. However, if you did not work your fly doen near the bottom, the fish may not be interested. And true enough, a couple of white Wooly Buggers were lost without a take from a fish. Then, Tristan tried a red and white Clouser and that too was lost.

Remembering his friend's 'Cirque du Soleil' fly, he tied it one and gave it a shot. No one was willing to rise to the occasion to hit the fly. Then with a loud 'Clink', the fly disappeared off the end of the line. The fly had hit a railing and the loop snapped. And the fly was never to be seen again.

This final setback signalled the end of a rather interesting morning of fishing. Though the fish were not really co-operative, Tristan still managed to tussel with and land two great fish. If only there had been more but my friend, the clown, was already laughing within; with only a hint of a smile on his lips.

Off to breakfast, a feast of 'Roti Prata' and fish curry, and a strong cup of 'Kopi-C' or coffee with evaporated milk. A perfect way to end a perfect session.

Till next we fish together, my friend.

Fly Fish with Mel: Bass of Three - Part 3

2005-11-08T21:06:00.000+08:00

Dessert

Heading off together in two cars, we flowed with the current along separate winding asphalt streams as we crossed the island from the West and took a turn up North. A little less than twenty minutes later, we were staring at the reflection of the evening sun, glistening on the surface of one of our favourite playgrounds, 7 Tree.

Even with a near-blinding glare from the water, the tell-tale signs of a weed overgrowth were evident from where we stood. Walking over to the water's edge revealed the true scale of the weed problem. A carpet of Hydrilla and a moss-like weed stretched along the shore; a carpet so thick you could literally walk on it. Following the green blanket, we walked towards a drain outlet and there found a little glimmer of hope. A small stretch of water, not more than 40 feet; with only pockets of weed.

Fanning out, we gave each other the choice of real estate and then, "Flies Away!".

Back in the shop a couple of days before, out of sheer boredom, I started meddling with the box of fly materials and found a hen cape with lots of unused Semi-plume. Having seen an article on a 'Mrs Simpson' fly recently, I proceeded to modify the design using the Semi-plume; topping it off with a strip of Burnt-Orange Zonker.

Having used the White Woolly Bugger so often today and having caught so many Peacock Bass on it, I toyed with the idea of testing my Ugly Fly. Taking it out, I tied it on with the Orvis Knot. With a steady wind blowing against me, I was just able to place the fly beyond the furthest edge of the weed bed. As the fly dove and fluttered through the tangle of weeds, I waited; ready to strike.

The soft fibers of the Semi-plume pulsated hypnotically, like a belly dancer's writhing body.

Unable to resist such an alluring tease, I had not long to wait to set the point of my barbless hook home. As if awoken from a hypnotic spell, the PB suddenly sprang to life and lunged back into the weeds. My 4X tippet held at the first dash and I was then able to manoeuvre and lead the fish through the narrow paths between the hydrilla forest. The fight over, I lipped a beautiful golden-green body that glowed brilliantly in the evening sun.

Walking a little further on, I made probing casts in-between the thick mats of weeds. Mending my line to fall along the narrow straits of water, I worked my fly back through what was probably a canyon of weeds. However, from somewhere, in one of the many dark crevices, came a colossal mouth that engulfed my fly.

With one easy flick of it's wide tail, it powered through the columns of weed. My efforts to keep clear of the weed only made it worse as the fish, feeling the pressure from my rod, pulled all the harder. Not just having to deal with fish, now I had a tangled mess of weed in tow. However, applying steady pressure and giving line at the right time, I managed to ensure that my tippet held. Emerging like a 'Swamp Thing', this peacock bass wore a wig of green moss.

Removing the weed, a beauty appeared and I called Michael over to help with a quick shot before I released the fish back safely into the water. A moment's rest and then off it shot, back into the weeds.

A great day of fishing for three fishing buddies.

Fly Fish with Mel: Bass of Three - Part 2

2005-10-26T21:44:00.000+08:00

Entrée

After Mass, our conversation over lunch led Lenny to suggest a visit to the 'Cake-shop'. It so happened that I was to be attending a friend's baby shower just next to it and added to that, Michael had called me up to ask me to go fishing as well. So it was that the three of us met for a short session.

By the time we arrived, we could already see Michael's 3-wt bent over as he calmly played whatever he had attached to the end of his line.

A quick glance over his left shoulder acknowledged our arrival as he continued to work the fish left and right until he had it right by his feet.

Up came the fish, out came the hook and back, the fish went into the water.

Flanking Michael on his left and right respectively, Leonard and I found ourselves, each a cozy little niche and settled into a lazy afternoon of fishing.

Using the White Woolly Bugger that had caught me the biggy in the morning, I was out-fished by Michael 7:3, or perhaps more. We'll just leave it as this.

Poor O'l Lenny was worse as he struggled to find fish. Calling out to Leonard, Mike offered him his hot seat. Standing next to Leonard, Mike acted as a guide calling out the fish to which Leonard casted to. Try as he might, he couldn't get the Peacock Bass to take his fly. The fish were out to tease him.

This had to be the turning point in Leonard's 'fishing career'. For it was on this very day that he was able to see so many huge fish just beneath him, blatantly ignoring his fly and totally frustrating him. It was also because of this that the 'poison' struck deep at his heart. The 'Call of the Fish' now beckons him every opportunity that presents itself. This, from a guy who used to work tirelessly, 6 days a week and countless hours a day. I suppose that there is that little magic in fishing that makes us appreciate more, the time we have on earth. Life shouldn't be just all about work. What good is there to gain the whole world but to lose ourself?

Anyway, back to the fishing.

Mike and I continued to rack up our scores while Lenny drew a complete blank.

There had been a request for photos of fish being released for some promotional brochures.

So Michael and I took our reluctant models and coaxed them to pose for us while we clicked away with our dainty Canon Ixus I5, encased in a waterproof housing.

Then to our left and right, we saw a bunch of lure-casters converging in our area and so we decided to head off to another of our sanctuary...

No Time for Updates

2005-10-14T21:37:00.000+08:00

Just started a temp job this week and I'm editing a friend's wedding photo shoot videoclip. So that's why there's been no updates.

For those of you who come and visit regularly, my apologies but pls continue to visit and look out for the Entree and Dessert of 'Bass of Three'.

Another weekend of fishing...I hope.

Fly Fish with Mel: Bass of Three - Part 1

2005-10-02T20:58:00.000+08:00

Hors D'œuvre

T'was another of those mornings where you open your eyes and immediately, your brain and your body starts debating whether to get up and go or to continue drifting in dreamland. Fortunately, my brain held out and kick-started what was to be a great day fishing.

I knew that the other fly anglers were heading for 7 Tree which would leave White House empty. I guess I was in the mood for a little solitude so to White House I went.

As the morning light chased away the darkness of the night, wisps of mist danced merrily above the glassy lake as if to greet the return of Day. And, as if to greet me, swirls and splashes erupted as I made the last few steps to the water's edge.

But the edge was no longer where it used to be. The water had crept forward, engulfing all the land a foot from where it was before. Ah, but this was only too good. For, now the fish seemed to drop all caution into the wind and feed with disregard. Not a frenzy but a little more co-operation.

After my two previous successes, I had tied a bigger brother of my Red Quill. A #13(TMC 102Y) to be exact. As I drew the Orvis Knot tight upon the eye, I reached into my pouch only to find my bottle of floatant missing.

Well, nothing, absolutely nothing was going to spoil my morning.

At my favourite corner, I half-crouched as I worked up my rhythm, building up the line speed to send the fly into infinity and beyond.

The line rolled onto the surface of the water ending with the fly fluttering softly onto the water. The stiff hackle fibers forming the tail and collar of the fly kept it afloat but only barely. Without any floatant, it was only a matter of time before my floundering fly succumbed to the merciless pull of the surface tension of the water.

When calm had returned to the surface, my fly came to life in a series of skips and pauses. Like a drowning swimmer, it bobbed up and down the surface as I pulled it back towards me. On the surface, it left a 'V' that stretched back till it vanished; melding back into the calm waters. Beneath the surface, it raised a bulge that pushed ahead menacingly.

Despite a few close follows, the PB was not ready to take the fly. Deciding to cast once more at this stubborn quarry before moving along, I let the fly touch the surface and then proceeded to skim it across the surface with an arcing swing of my rod. The rapid movement of the fly was just the turn on needed to induce the fish to strike.

In one explosive moment that broke the peaceful silence, the fish nailed the Red Quill. I'm not sure if the raised water level had also raised the level of tenacity of the fish but this fish felt different from the usual. It's stamina rivaled that of a marathon runner yet had the burst of sprinter. Between the dashes, it presented me its broadside and never once allowed me line without putting up a fight.

What a fish to start the morning! Our engagement lasted a good five minutes before I managed to lead the PB to beach on the grass. Not a trophy fish but from it's fight, you'd never know. A couple of 'release' photos later, with a swipe of it's tail, the fish was home again.

Walking along the bank, I was able to tease up quite a few fish with this 'skimming fly' method but not all the fish fell for it.

2 hookups and an 'injured' fly later, it was time to go for the deeper-lurking fish.

Switching to a Branchu, I cast out into one of the 'holes'. Since I was using a Sage Quiet Taper 1wt DT Floating line, the fly descended slowly into the hole's murky depths. Unlike using a sinking or intermediate line, retrieving the fly resulted in a 'jigging' motion, with the fly darting up diagonally and then drifting down vertically.

Varying between short rapid strips and long slow jerks with pauses in-between, I worked the fly over the hole in front of me.

After a few casts, I was finally able to draw a few fish out of the hole but they were 'short-striking', missing the hook completely. Slowing and shortening my darting retrieve, I started to connect to solid hookups. Each fish landed contributed to my collection of 'release' shots that had been requested for.

Having landed me a few fish, I sent the Branchu even deeper into the hole to seek out any Leviathans hiding in it. Over-zealous, I caused the demise of this faithful servant. It's foot trapped in the rocks, I tried desperately to free it by tugging on the safety line but the 6 lbs tippet snapped only to leave my Branchu to be lost forever in it's watery grave.

Since the fish were responding well to my 'jigging' style, and clearly ignoring my fellow angler's lures, I chose another 'heavy'; a white, bead-head Woolly Bugger. Tied on #4 Mustad Streamer hook, it took only seconds for it to plunge into the deep waters.

With it's long, white, fluttering tail of marabou feathers, it resembled a sexy diver with her long hair trailing behind her (that's in our visual language, not the fish's).

Whatever it was, the fly was a hit with the boys.

And sure enough, a pair of Leviathans came up to inspect the Woolly Bugger at the end of one of my retrieves. The next cast, I chanced to let the fly go deeper and I shortened my retrieves to half-inch ones with longer pauses in-between.

"Strip, strip, pause...strip, strip, strip, pause...strip, STRIKE!" The following flash in the water confirmed the feel I had at the end of the rod. It was a big one. A tingling feeling shot through the my spine. A mixed emotion of joy, fear, anxiety and what have you gripped me. This was no light-footed boxer but a true heavyweight. Slow but determined. I could only lift when it allowed me to and had to bow to it if it decided to dive. The bottom was relatively free of snag but there was a sharp corner of a concrete wall in front of me and it wasn't exactly 4x tippet friendly.

Curves are what men's eye crave and what a beautiful curve it was on my baby. The Sage SPL's action was so graceful as it bowed to the fish's every whim and fancy. When the fish broke surface, it was the beginning of the end of the battle. Sadly, there was no screaming reel but my opponent was still a worthy fighter. Crouching as low as I could to reach into the water, my breath held as long as it took for me to place my thumb and finger onto the lower lip of the fish. With both hands lifting the Leviathan out of the water, only then did I breathe that great sigh of relief and joy.

My lure-casting neighbour, Felix, kindly took pictures of my piscatorial adversary and me but I think the best picutre is that of the fish being put back into the water, safely.

Though I certainly would've continued to hook and land more fish, I thanked God for this fantastic fish to end a great session. It was time to go for choir practice and get ready for Mass.

To be continued...

Fly Fish with Mel: Late for Fishing!

2005-10-01T11:29:00.000+08:00

"In Montana, there are three things we're never late for. Church, Work and Fishing." - Brad Pitt in "A River Runs Through It"

Thank goodness we are not in Montana but today, I committed the cardinal sin of being late. Cardinal sin because I was to have had picked someone up; I had denied him the best fishing hour.

Jeff had so patiently waited as the minutes ticked away steadily and a half hour past our appointment, he sent a gentle reminder in the form of a mobile message. To think that I had set an additional alarm clock to guard against my oversleeping. Yet, the din of the clocks were not as effective as the soft tinkle of my message tone.

Springing from bed, I got ready in double-quick time. I was at Jeff's house in 20 mins but the damage had been done. We'd missed the magical hour of sunrise. When we got to "7 Tree" the others had already been fishing and landing peacock bass.

We only had 20 mins before it was time to go and Jeff, quite dejectedly, had to reel in his fly.

I would say that breakfast did not perk my friend up until I told him that there was yet another place we could go. There would be 'numbers' but not 'size'.

My sins did not end with being late.

Albert had hopped on with us while the others made their way back. Being the only one familiar with this particular spot, I duly informed my two friends on the flies to use and the areas to cast. Jeff being a left-hander, would have difficulty casting to the mark as a tree and dense overgrowth formed the leftmost limit of the fishing area, directly opposite the weed bed where the fish were. Albert had tied on a Crazy Charlie so I offered him a small black and orange, Gurgler.

Bringing my friends here was to ensure that they got fish and supposedly, make amends for my mistake. However, I went deeper into sin by not only being the first to land a fish, I ended up being the only one to connect to fish.

Dear Albert and Jeff, my apologies for being such a lousy host.

Fly Fish with Mel: One Fish Is All It Takes To Make My Day

2005-09-26T20:57:00.000+08:00

Catskills Work on Peacock Bass

Third day in a row that I've been fishing. Back at 'White House' today but with a twist.

Today, I left all my heavy gear home and went with only my sidearm, my trusty Sage SPL 0-wt.

The reason: To test if Catskills style dry flies work on Peacock Bass.

Arriving dark and early, Jimmy and I went through the usual routine of rigging up as we walked down the slope to the water's edge.

Unlike yesterday, there was hardly a whisper of a breeze. The Water Striders were already up and about; gracefully waltzing across a mirror calm surface. In the pre-dawn, darkness, you can only see the gentle rippling of the surface as they skimmed around.

Unlike yesterday, there was not a single rise. I was about to begin fishing; blind. Not knowing where a fish might be lurking. I only wished for a tell-tale sign.

I placed the first probing cast to where I knew would be the best bet for a peacock bass to be hiding; close to the bank. As the tiny #16 Red Quill softly landed in the water, I retrieved my line till I saw my 4x tippet come tight to the fly and the smallest of ripples emanate from it. Then, I let it sit.

Silently, vulnerably it sat on the surface but not a hint of movement. Using a figure-of-eight retrieve, I worked the fly across the water then roll cast it a little further than the first cast. Again, all quiet on the waterfront.

By now, the sun had eased itself partially above the horizon. In the growing light, a shadow vaguely caught my sight. As the water refracted what little light there was, the shallow depth remained cloak in shadow; hiding all that knew how to be still.

Using my peripheral vision, I scanned the shadowy depth for that one minute movement that would give my furtive adversary away.

Then, there it was. Three faint, black bars against a lighter surface hardly moving a hair's-breadth but movement nonetheless.

I lifted the fly and sailed it back through the air. Flicking the rod at the end of my backcast, I shook off what water had collected in the hackles then propelled the fly towards the lurking shadow.

Landing 3 feet behind the fish, I twitched the fly back across its back but it did not even glance. A haul and cast placed the fly just beyond the fish. This time, it turned but not an inch closer. I waited for the ripples from the fly to dissipate then twitched the fly again. The shadow rose from the dark depths and the unmistakable form of a Peacock Bass revealed itself. Two more quick, successive twitches and the fish lunged at the fly.

My rod hand and line hand drifted apart in one swift motion to set the hook firmly. Now, the surface of the water reverberated with the struggles of the desperate peacock bass.

Though only a small specimen, the fish felt like a 5-pounder on my very well-seasoned rod. Each swipe of its tail telegraphed through the line and the rod bucked and bowed in response. In the end, the 4x tippet held out and I triumphantly raised the fly-weight fighter up for a few victory shots.

The fly was well and truly inhaled. It was set at the back of the mouth between the gills. With a pair of forceps, I removed the fly and attached it lightly to the lip of the fish for another shot before releasing the lovely fish back to its watery abode.

That was to be the only fish I caught the whole morning but it was one that really made my day.

Fly Fish with Mel: Newly Hatched

2005-09-24T11:23:00.000+08:00

RED QUILL

Just tried my hand at tying Catskill flies. I wonder if I will be able to use them tomorrow?

Hook: Tiemco TMC 100 #16
Thread: UTC 140 Waxed Tan
Body: Peacock Quill
Wings: Mallard Flank Fibers (dyed with Chartpak marker - Goldenrod)
Hackle: Dun
Tail: Dun Hackle Fibers

Fly Fish with Mel: Cracking the Peacock Bass Code

2005-09-24T09:00:00.000+08:00

Branchu Turn On

After a 2 week hiatus, I woke up today with one thought. It's time to go fishing.

Shaking the remnant Z-monsters tugging at my eyelids, I took a hot shower that brought relaxation to a body tensed with anticipation.

As I stood beneath the constant flow of steaming water, my mind wrestled with the choice of bringing my 4-wt Coho rod teamed with a Scientific Anglers intermediate Stillwater line or my Sage SPL 0-wt, with a floating 1-wt line. As I mentally ran through the contents of my fly box, a single fly kept popping up. The Branchu. It had always raised me a fish regardless of how difficult the fishing was. Thus the decision was made.

I also enjoyed driving early in the morning. Being one of only a few vehicles on the road gives you a sense of solitude that is sorely missed in the hustle and bustle of city living.

Michael had already started fishing as I pulled alongside his parked car. I disrobed my rod and started assembling it while walking to the water's edge. Years of fishing on the run has honed our skills at rigging up while on the move. With only an hour or so to fish before we had to leave, we had to be rigged and ready to fish when we get to the water.

"G'morning! Anything so far?", I inquired.

"Nope.", came a short and sweet reply.

Michael was using a small popper as was Tan, whom, I could only make out his silhouette in the distance.

When I opened my fly box, a heavenly glow centered on the Branchu(Only for visual effect. The real Branchu fly does not glow). Tying it on with loop knot, the fly already looked a winner without having caught a fish.

Where do I cast?

The water was clear; devoid of weed. They must have just cleared out the weeds. Not a good sign. Along the banks, not a sign of movement betrayed the presence of fish.

Tossing the fly into the water, I started my casting stroke, remembering the personal training I had from Michael. "slow down your cast. Keep the rod moving in the same plane. Imagine yourself using a hammer." The words continued to ring in my mind as I tried my best to overwrite the bad habits I'd picked up in the past.

Though comfortable with casting, I wanted to bring my casting to the next level. I wanted to milk out another 20 feet and I wanted to improve my presentation of the fly. The conflicting instructions fired from my brains to my arms caused the fly line to trace wild loops in the air and then crashed ignominiously into the water. Numerous failed attempts finally led to me finding the correct rhythm to send the fly line and the Branchu out 50 feet.

The initial 5 minutes was disheartening, with not a single follow or take on my fly. Then, as the intensity of the morning light increased, I noticed a black shadow in the water not 10 feet from me. As the shadow turned, it materialized into a pair of Peacock Bass. I retrieved the line and with a gentle roll cast, placed the Branchu directly behind the pair. I waited for the fly to flutter down the water column and then with long, fast strips, worked the fly between the pair. The larger of two, lethargically moved out of the way. Seeing this, I lifted the rod to re-cast the fly.

As the fly sped up to leave the water, the other Peacock Bass, surged forward but missed the fly. One false cast and I relaid the fly behind the pair. This time, I changed the rhythm of the strip to a short but quick erratic retrieve. It wasn't long before I came up tight to a supercharged Cichla Monoculus.

This feisty little critter walked me all about for a good 5 minutes. Though it was no match for my 4wt outfit, it still did not give in easily. With a solid bend in the rod, absorbing each dash and headshake, I whittled away the raw power of the bass. It was no lunker but it sure gave a good account of itself.

By sheer luck, a long cast out got caught in a enormous bed of algae and weed. Snagged deep within it, I thought that I'd lost my fly. but slow and steady pressure saw to the return of my fly. The movement also revealed the edges of the weed bed.

So I sent the Branchu out again but this time on the periphery of the weeds. Waiting for the fly to sink, a PB burst out beneath a bulge and went airborne. If you've seen footage of the launch of a Polaris or Trident missile, you'll be able to picture this scene. The fish had taken the fly on the drop and catapulted itself entirely out of the water. Thankfully, the fish was not big and the shock of re-entry was handled by the 2X tippet. Having lost an enormous amount of energy in the jump, the fish did not take long to be subdued and released.

There were a few instances too when the takes were so ferocious that the PBs missed the fly but got fouled on it instead. There was the one that go hooked in the eye but while lifting the fish to release it, the hook popped out. I was worried at first but after a few tensed minutes, the PB swam away with such gusto that I am sure it will survive.

Another small 6" peacock got fouled in its pectoral fin. My line had been flowing with the wind and when the fish took off, I thought I had hooked a bonefish. The rooster tail created by the line cutting through the water was so similar to that of any saltwater fish taking off in skinny water. The initial shock gave the fish time to find cover and I was soon fighting both fish and a long trail of weed and algae. Again, slow pressure managed to detach the weed from the bed and the fish was dragged unceremoniously back to shore with a wig of green hair.

This morning, the Branchu accounted for at least 8 pieces of peacock bass. Have I cracked the Peacock Bass Code? I will have to come back and try it again a few more times to know for sure.

Fly Fish with Mel: In Case of Emergency, BREAK GLASS!

2005-09-23T10:11:00.000+08:00

It's Fishing Time. Literally

Finished my clock 2 days ago. Finished waxing the frame and pieced everything together.

Brought it down to show the guys at Coho(That's the tackle shop; or more like a clubhouse cum watering hole, we hang out at). Most of them liked it while many of them questioned me on how I did the 3 flies on the glass. Unfortunately, there hasn't been another commissioning for a similar one.

Well, the design will be changed a little if I do the next one but I think I would like to make one that is totally out of cork.

So here are a few pictures of the clock for you to decide if you like it or not. Comments are welcomed.

The Back and the Clock Mechanism

The 3 Glass Flies

Fly Fish with Mel: Fishing might become a sport after all

2005-09-20T00:24:00.000+08:00

A New Hope

Immediately after my posting on fishing not being recognized as a sport here in Singapore, an email was received by our friend, TY. It was from PUB (Public Utilities Board) asking for a meeting to discuss the proposal to create a World Class Sportfishing Environment in Singapore

The meeting is being scheduled for this Wednesday, 21st September. If you have any ideas or contributions, you may want to add your comments to the post in the forum. Perhaps your contributions might help pave the way to a brighter fishing future here on this tiny island. I think we will be needing all the experienced help and suggestions in starting up this fledgling fishing locale.

But whatever it may be, I wanna thank all who have come to visit my blog, either for the first time or have so kindly revisited time and again. I hope to be able to continue providing interesting anecdotes for your reading pleasure. If you have any comments and suggestions on my site, please drop me an email or just leave a comment on my blog. And if you would like me to reply, please let me know the best avenue to do so.

Tight lines and happy fishing!

Sneak preview of my clock in progress

Fly Fish with Mel: Immortalized Flies

2005-09-15T14:30:00.000+08:00

Flies on Glass

No fishing again so it's back to craftwork.

Just found a couple of glass beakers I bought from Ikea.
Using diamond-tipped bits for my Minicraft rotary tool, I tried my hand at engraving a fly, a Royal Coachman, on the beaker.

And after a few apprehensive minutes, I started to get a hang of controlling the whirrring tool. With each grinding stroke, I gained confidence and line by line, the fly started to materialize on the once empty glass.

This is end result, with the Royal Coachman immortalized on the glass.

Fly Fish with Mel: Fishing is NOT a Sport. Cybergaming IS!

2005-09-14T21:11:00.000+08:00

What a sad turn of events!

A recent Straits Times report has cited that a new National Sports Association may be created to govern cybergaming yet a recent proposal for the creation of a Singapore Sports Fishery was given a cold shoulder as Fishing is not considered a sport.

You can follow the post in our local forum Proposal For Singapore Sports Fishery

So what is considered a sport here? Any event that leads to economical gains or that, which brings fame to Singapore?

Why is it that no one sees a potential gold mine sitting in our water resources? With freshwater species like, Peacock Bass, Snakehead, Jungle Perch and Giant Gourami, and saltwater species like, Tarpon, Barramundi, Ladyfish and Mangrove Jacks; we have the resources to effectively start a sport fishery.

The only thing we lack is a proper governing body to set out the rules and legislation, and to enforce these rules. Proper education will ensure that participants of the sport will learn to appreciate and care for the natural environment they are in. Catch limits can help to ensure a self-sustaining fish crop. Or a regular re-stocking programme can be instituted with funds from the sale of fishing licenses.

Fishing is one of the most popular pastime in the world. It is also one that contributes greatly to the economies of the United States, Australia, Bahamas, Maldives. It boosts the tourism industry, the retail industry and the hospitality industry.

So with all these justifications, can we now be considered a SPORT?

Fly Fish with Mel: Another Beautiful Morn

2005-09-05T11:55:00.000+08:00

A Royal Treat

A week has gone by without me wetting a line.

My hands twitched involuntarily at the thought of spending a hour or two this weekend at my favourite fishing hole, nicknamed the 'White House'.

The past week had been spent tying up new flies to be used in a clock that my friend had ordered from me. These belonged to a royal family of flies - The Royal Wulff, the Royal Coachman and the Royal Trude.

Since I started fly fishing, I've never caught a fish on any of the royal family of flies and so have placed them on the shelf than on the water. However, on his last visit back, my friend, Hun, showed me that these classics do work even on our local waters.

So armed with a couple of flies, fresh out of the oven, I went afishing.

Showers over consecutive days had created a cool, misty morning and as I stepped out of the car, the fresh morning air jolted the last of the slumber out of me.

In the demi-darkness, I could already hear and see the splashes made by the fish.

Around the bend on my left, I heard a loud splash and immediately made my first reach cast there.

As the Royal Trude landed, I anticipated an explosive reception but that was not to be. I waited for the ripples to dissipate before I twitched the fly and waited some more. Still no action. Stripping back quickly to recast the fly, I saw a huge bow wake surge up and chased my fly. It then gave up the chase and receded back into the shallow depths. With one back cast, I hauled the fly forward and laid it two feet from where the wake emerged. Waiting patiently, I had to hold back my natural instinct to move the fly.

Then, a vague black shadow appeared behind my fly and it disappeared in a little whirlpool.

The fly was well and truly inhaled and all I had to do was to lift the rod to set the hook. My 4wt Coho rod bucked with every head shake as the fiesty little peacock bass displayed its fighting prowess.

Now the sun was beginning to creep over the treeline to cast a slight orange hue over the water.

With each blitz, my adversary depleted its reserve of energy and over time, technology was to triumph over sheer brute strength. The strain on the rod eased and I slowly led the fish back to the bank.

What greeted me was a regal sight. 3 distinctive black bars set atop its golden green flanks, the defeated bass let me lift it out of the water with a comfort cradle.

Though conquered, it still maintainted an air of defiance as it looked me in the eye.

Not wanting to humilate a worthy opponent, I slid the barbless Royal Trude out of the mouth, took 2 quick photos and released the fish safely back into the water.

Having regained its strength lying motionless on my palm, the peacock bass bolted straight into the weeds the even before its body was fully submereged.

This was the only fish I caught that morning but I needed no more for I had come to prove that the Royal Trude did work and I had. Though the fly worked only during the short period of the magic hour when the sun was still struggling to climb above the horizon. For when the sky is lit with the warm of the sun, the bass will gladly ignore the dry fly.

Time and again, I have felt that the true satisfaction of fly fishing lies in the actual seeing of a fish rise to a fly and inhaling it and when it swims safely away when it is returned to its element. A joy that can only be understood when you have experienced it in person. A different, yet greater joy than when the fish is lying motionless on a plate.

Fly Fish with Mel: Lord of the Flies

2005-08-30T01:18:00.000+08:00

The Fly

The fly is the business end of any fly fishing outfit; the bait with which we fly anglers employ in the hope of enticing a fish to partake of an artificial meal.

A fly is also a work of art. A masterpiece lovingly crafted with the same patience and care as that of any painter or sculptor. A thing of beauty to some; a hideous sight to others; but always a tasty morsel to a fish.

A fly is a hook dressed with all manners of feathers and fur; of materials natural or synthetic. A hook dressed so that it may imitate or suggest the form of an insect or creature; terrestrial or aquatic.

To catch a fish is a delight but to catch a fish with a fly you just tied last night, that's truly ecstasy.

For, to tie a fly is not difficult but to tie a fly that catches fish consistently, requires more than luck.

The key to success lies in the skill of observation.

Question, Question, Question!

That is what a fly angler and a fly tier has to consistently do.

What are the fish feeding on?

What types of vegetation are around the lake?

What species of fish am I targeting?

Are there flying insects above the water?

What season is it?

What colours are the insects that are flying in the air?

Are there nymphs on the bottom?

And the ultimate question: "What the heck is the other guy using to catch that biggy?"

With each answer, you come closer to tying the fly that will 'match the hatch'.

Now after you decided on what fly to tie, you painstakingly prepare the hooks, the materials and yourself.

Yourself, you ask?

A chef prepares a meal with all his heart, with all his love, for those who chooses to savour his culinary delights. So will you not do the same, preparing a meal for the fish that you love so dear?

So with the hook de-barbed and placed on the vise, you tie on the thread and feathers and dress the fly.

You admire the beauty of the fly. Its perfect shape, its beautiful proportions, a masterpiece. But will it satisfy the discerning eyes of the fish?

You go to bed with anxiety in your heart.

You open your eyes and it's still dark. You look at your watch. It's 5.30am. But it's time to get ready.

You get up and turn to see the flies sitting handsomely in your open fly box. "Will they work today", you ask? Only time and the fish will tell. You wash up and get ready.

You arrive at the water's edge. The sun's still lazing beneath the horizon. You can see the water's surface still gleaming in the moonlight but you hear no sounds except that of the crickets'.

As the sun creeps up, revealing the swirling mist on the water's surface, it also reveals the first sign on movement beneath the water. You hear an audible slurp and turn to see concentric rings of ripples emanate from where a few moments ago, a fish had sucked in a fly.

You open your fly box and look at the fly you've just tied. "Will it work?" You tie it onto your tippet, the question still ringing in your mind. You drop the fly as you wave your magic wand. As the rod scythes through the air forwards and back, the fly gracefully trails as if it were alive, flying in a gentle figure of eight. Stopping your rod forward, the fly o'ertakes the rod tip to fall gently near where you last saw the disturbance in the water.

The water is still so you slowly impart a little movement to your fly and drag it slowly back towards you a quarter inch at a time. You twitch, you pause. You twitch, you pause. The surrounding sudden goes silent.

Even the crickets seemed to have quietened. The silence is deafening. A sudden bulge and your fly is rocked by waves, bobbing violently. A fish has just swirled next to your fly. Your grip tightens around the rod and the fly line. A long moment of silence and you strip your fly in.

Raising your rod again and casting the fly out, you aim it a little to the right of your last cast. You let the fly drop and wait for the resulting ripples to die down. You then start twitch and pause routine. You focus on the fly and watch the waters surrounding it.

You strip the line and the fly makes a small 'V' wake. a few feet away, you notice a small bulge start to grow and move towards your fly. The bow wake reaches your fly and in an instant, the fly is gone. In its place an enormous splash of water. The line comes taut in your hand. You lift the rod tip and set the hook. The fish feels the resistance and powers off to deeper waters. You make your stand with Rod raised and line tightened. You feel a headshake from the fish and then limp. The hook got dislodge.

As you calmly reel you line back, the disappointment is lost in a sheepish smile as you hear the words in your head

"It works."

Fly Fish with Mel: To Fish or Not to Fish? That is the question...

2005-08-20T10:36:00.000+08:00

While going through the chapters of 'Rod Rage', a book by Rhea Topping, I came across a poem that sums up what fly fishing embodies. I hope that by reading the poem, you'll get to appreciate the unexpressed reasons why each of us, in the fraternity of the long rodders, chose this as our recreation.

Out Fishing

A feller isn't thinking mean,
Out fishing,
His thoughts are mostly good and clean,
Out fishing,
He doesn't mock his fellow men,
Or harbour any grudges then;
A feller's at his finest when,
Out fishing,
The rich are comrades to the poor,
Out fishing,
All are brothers of a common lure,
Out fishing,
The urchin with his pin and string,
Can chum with millionaire and king;
Vain pride is a forgotten thing,
Out fishing,
A fella gets a chance to dream,
Out Fishing.
He learns the beauties of the stream out fishing.
And he can wash his soul in air
That isn't foul with selfish care,
And relish plain and simple fare
Out fishing,
A fella has no time for hate,
Out fishing,
he isn't eager to be great
Out fishing,
He isn't thinking thoughts of self,
But he's always just himself,
Out fishing.
[A] feller's glad to be a friend, out fishing.
[A] helping hand he'll always lend, out fishing.
The brotherhood of rod and line
An'sky and stream is always fine;
Men come real close to God's design, out fishing.

Fly Fish with Mel: Back to Counting...

2005-08-14T20:45:00.000+08:00

The Friends

There is a uniqueness to the strange relationship between fly anglers.

Though fly fishing is largely a solitary sport, as dictated by the need for a huge casting area,
the community rarely fishes alone.

There is solitude in fly fishing, but there is never loneliness.

With the right companions, any day out fishing is a great day; with or without fish.

There is an inexplicable sense of serenity watching a friend wading in the water, rhythmically waving a long rod and then laying the line forward of him.

At times, in fact most of the time, it is more enjoyable watching a friend fish than to be fishing oneself.

For, what fun is there? If, there is no one to witness the landing of a dream fish; or to bear the tale of the one that got away; or to mock each other's tomfoolery.

There will always be dangers and adventures to be shared.

Walking along the stream, listening to a symphony of birds, cicadas, crickets and denizens of the forest, a conversation wanders with no boundaries. At peace with nature and with each other, one can recount the fishing of days past or that which is to come.

Of life's bitterness or the sweetness of success. Or one can remain in silence, relishing the quiet company without the need to speak.

As with all great gatherings, it is never complete without good food and drinks. Be it a gourmet spread or simple fare, a vintage pour or a home brew. After a day's fishing, regardless the result, it will always end on a high note when the grub's abounding and the tap's flowing.

There will never be lacking laughter and joy at the end of a fly angler's trip.

Fly Fish with Mel: Pre-Holiday Celebrations

2005-08-10T15:16:00.000+08:00

Mother Nature seemed to be in one of her foul moods; her brooding anger enshrouded the skies with a blanket of gray.

Yet, it was not enough to deter O'l Lenny and myself from setting off on our pre-National Day fishing escapade.

By the time we hit the water's edge, our dear Lady showed signs of relenting, with pockets of blue peeking through her moody veil.

Finding ourselves each a comfortable roost on the precariously sloping rocks, the assembly of our rods was done in solitude. Before us, the water surface rippled in fear as each heavy breath of the simmering matron blew over it.

Opening my fly box, my sight fell on a large orange fly.

The Branchu, with its wing of white Mallard Flank and a tail of Golden Pheasant tippets extending majestically from a slender body of orange SLF dubbing looked to me the perfect fly to start the session. Wrapped gingerly around, a collar of soft Matuka hackle pulsates enticingly as the fly swims through the water, a succulent morsel that no fish, in its right mind, would pass up.

Tying on the fly; and with gentle strokes, Len and I painted the sky with our rods as our lines traced the movement, reaching out further with each swing. Our choreographed synchronization seemed to have help Mother Nature aussage her anger when we saw her gleaming smile reflecting off the water in the distance.

With a final arc forward, my rod laid the line softly across the water; my fly not fifty feet from me. I counted the seconds as I waited for the fly to dive to the depths where I hoped to find my quarry. One second, two second, three second...with a purposeful and moderate motion, I stripped the line to work the fly. Darting forward and then fluttering down slowly, the Branchu worked its magic. Strip, pause, strip, pause, strip, stuck! Not another snagged fly...but before I could pull another inch of line in, it shot forward burning my left index finger. No sooner had I released my line to drop onto the floor did it become taut to the reel.

The length of my 9ft, 4-wt Coho rod bowed towards the unseen foe. Soon, I could see the end of my line start to rise towards the surface and then, a silver bullet broke through the surface and shot out of the water. Her beautiful , streamlined body writhed and twisted in mid-air, trying to dislodge the fly from the corner of her upturned mouth. Unglamourous, yet spectacularly, the Tarpon (Megalops cyprinoides) re-entered the water and immediately powered out away from me.

Alas, the give and take relationship we had was not to last. With a last wave of her tail goodbye, we parted ways leaving me with nothing but a broken leader and sunken heart. How cruel short-term relationships can be. However, I am sure that we had a good thing going and she did choose to keep my fly as a momento of the short yet breath-taking time we shared.

Leonard, was not having much luck with the ladies but was able to hitch himself up with a couple of minors. The Cichlids did give a good account of themselves giving Lenny some fun on his 6-wt rod.

It wasn't long before the real girls showed up. Turning up, dressed to the nines, the Peacock Bass (Cichla Monoculus) were literally lining up in front of me waving their tails sexily, as they cat-walked up and down the rock wall.

Switching to an equally sexy, if not more provocative, white Woolly Bugger, I started to turn my charm on them.

At first, they were shy and kept their distance but with my fly dangling in front of them, the ladies were soon warmed up, literally climbing over each other just to scoff my offering.

It was pure fishing ecstacy.

In just under two hours of fishing, I had landed ten of these stunning beauties.

Too soon, it was time to go and leave this immensely beautiful stretch of water and go back to the realities of life.

Au revoir, mes chéris. À bientôt.

Fly Fish with Mel: Still Counting...

2005-08-06T01:09:00.000+08:00

The Location

Location. Location. Location

Fishing is all about location. Find the right location and there you'll find the fish. But then again, It's not just about the fishing, is it?

From the sun-drenched beaches of Maldives

to the virgin forests of Kelantan, fishing has brought me places.

Getting there is half the fun. It may sound like a philosophical excuse for a lousy angler but so what if we end up not getting fish? Being there is part of the fun.

Not forgetting the food. You get to savour some of the most exotic foods.

Delicieux!

Even if it was in our own backyard, fishing reveals a side of Singapore that most of us do not get to see. Drains, rivers, streams, hidden coves and the list goes on. Did you know that there is a certain helicopter landing pad that's a gay haunt?! See what I mean?

Fly Fish with Mel: How do I enjoy fishing thee? Let me count the ways.

2005-08-05T01:20:00.000+08:00

Why is there all this competition to outfish the person next to you?
"I caught more fish than you!" So, am I a better fisherman?

Is fishing really just all about catching fish?

To me, fishing, or should I be more specific; fly fishing, is more than that...it's a total experience.

The time of day, the location, the friends, the cast, the fly and finally, the fish. Each of these constitutes the total experience of fly fishing.

"How?", you may ask.

Let me count the ways...

The Time of Day

At what hour do I fish? Usually before the break of day and then around dusk. It is during these two periods that fish are most actively feeding. It is also the time when nature puts on her most magnificent show.

"From her purple slumber, she slowly stirs as her warm, orange yolk climbs slowly up towards the brightening sky, casting a golden hue on everything; from the water surface to the glistening leaves in the morning dew.

The warm rays meet the cool morning air, forming swirling clouds of mist, hovering over the calm, still waters.

The cacophony of insects slowly gives way to the audible slurps and tail slaps of the fish just beneath the surface of the water.

Tiny concentric rings grow and reach out from the source of the disturbance to touch the surrounding land, only to slowly disappear into the vastness of the water body.

I am ready to cast."

Fly Fish with Mel: Are there opportunities to fly fish in Singapore?

2005-07-31T23:39:00.000+08:00

Fly Fishing? Are there opportunities to fly fish in Singapore? Many of our foreign visitors here are amazed when we bring them out to fish.

Many a times, during our conversations, a mis-informed visitor expresses surprise whenever I mention fly fishing here.

"Is there fly fishing to be done here?"
"What species do you fish for here?"
"What kind of tackle do you use?"

And the list goes on.

A recent visitor was trying to find out info on what fishing there was to be done here and finally after hitting a couple of dead ends, found a new forum for fly fishing , where he received such a warm welcome even before he stepped onto our soil. Ask him if there was good fishing to be done here. I'm sure he'll be back for more.

Cheers to you Chrisfly and we hope that we'll be seeing you soon! Or perhaps I'll see you in Norway.

So if you're heading down our way or, up for those of you downunder, drop by the forum or drop me a note and we'll be glad to show you around.

As for our local boys and girls, wanna give it a try? I'll be glad to show off my long rod