Alright, perfect cast, right on the plate!” you think to yourself, and you brace, only to watch a fish swim along on its merry way, or worse, blow off the flat like a scalded mule. As you reel in, what goes through your mind?
Did the fish see my lure at all? Did I cast too close? Did it see me first? Should I change my lure? Did I move the thing right? Am I totally inept?
Second-guessing is part of sight fishing, but I will say without reservation that presentation—your cast placement and retrieve—is more critical than choice of bait, lure or fly. Sight fishermen tend to get caught up in minutia, obsessing over such details as lure or fly color and size. Those considerations are part of the fun, and do matter, but making the food, real or fake, do what a real critter would do in the line of fire is the key.
I sat in on a South Florida flats fishing club meeting many moons ago where an accomplished flats-fishing guide was the featured speaker. During his presentation, he narrowed his eyes and said flatly, “If a fish is on a flat, it is there to feed, period. If you don’t hook up, you did something wrong.” There was some murmuring in the crowd, and one old salt stole the spotlight briefly when rum-and-coke shot through his nose. Another guy blurted, “Oh yeah? Then explain those big winter bonefish that haul butt down the oceanside flats and part the Red Sea around my live shrimp!”
A fish on a flat is there to eat, period. Though blanket statements rarely hold water in fishing, the good captain was basically correct. He went on to talk expertly about ideal casting angles and retrieves, not about lures and flies, disappointing those who expected him to crack open his fly box and pass out various sizes of The Holy Grail.
After a refusal, wouldn’t it be nice to know exactly what you did wrong, if anything? For that matter, is there a Golden Rule regarding presentation on the flats? I don’t know of one, but if you want a maxim it’s this: Do not charge the fish with the food. Prey does not attack predator in the real world. A fish foraging on a flat is accustomed to baitfish fleeing in the opposite direction or scurrying to dive into seagrass or other benthic cover. Shrimp swim in a forward motion much of the time, but retreat in reverse with frantic tail-kicks when alarmed, and usually head for bottom as well. Crabs swimming and drifting along in the water column will dive-bomb to the bottom and burrow. These are the natural prey responses or postures you should strive to emulate, whether casting bait or artificials.
Here They Come. Cast!
Fish on the move are most challenging. It seems there are two basic philosophies among flats anglers regarding casting to cruisers. There’s the “lead ’em” crowd and the “bean ’em” crowd. The former generally play it safe and cast well ahead of swimming fish to avoid spooking them. That approach works, when time allows, or when fish are especially skittish. The latter approach is preferred by more aggressive anglers who pitch that thing in there as close as possible, like a pitcher delivering some “chin music,” which ensures that a fish will see the offering. But it’s risky. Which technique is best? Well, both are, when done at the right time.
In flats fishing, your first shot is your best shot, but you have to quickly decide whether leading or beaning a fish is the way to go. And remember, second shots are a luxury.
In a perfect world, flats fish swim basically toward you, at a 45 degree angle, to be exact. You can position a skiff, or wade into position on an established travel route to maximize that chance, but in the real world, fish cross your path at sharp angles and also swim away from you. And then there are those fish that are parked, or, in the tarpon vernacular, “laid up,” resting just under the surface. Permit, bonefish and stripers seem to be motoring all the time, when not tailing. However, redfish, snook and trout commonly lie still in shallow water. Over the long haul, you’ll cast at more fish on the move than not, so you must make a quick assessment before pulling the trigger. For example, the closing speed of a school of fish—particularly migrating giant tarpon—can absolutely blow your mind. And too much time to prepare after spotting fish at a great distance can make you choke, too. There’s too much time to think about it. Many times over the years, I’ve spotted bonefish and tarpon a hundred yards away from the poling platform. I learned not to tell the angler in the bow. I waited until they closed to within a couple hundred feet, and sometimes less.
Let’s Lead ’Em
So, you decide you will lead a cruising fish. How far in front? Three feet? Five? Ten or more? Consider the variables. The ideal distance, whether for oncoming fish or those crossing your path, is dictated by how far away the target is when you spot it, its forward speed, and just to complicate things, the depth, the current, and the sink rate and entry splash of your offering. And factor in the surface condition, too. A choppy surface allows for shorter leads than a mirror smooth surface most days. I learned long ago that fly fishing definitely allows for shorter leads, due to the light weight of most flies, and a long leader helps, too. Of course, if you shoot too far and line the fish, it’s game over. With spoons, jigs, or weighted natural baits, you have to make your touchdowns a little farther out in front of a fish.
A fish swimming straight at you provides a good opportunity to hook up, but rather than laying your offering directly in its path, cast slightly to either side of the fish’s position and expected line of travel. On the retrieve, the lure or fly will appear to be escaping, and when the fish spots it off to the left or right, it will swim at a slight angle to you to catch it, decreasing the chance that the fish will see you through the surface.
Pitch Some Chin Music
You’ll have to cast right at a fish when it appears so close to you that you cannot give it much of a lead. For example, should you spot a fish at 30 feet and lead it by five to 10, by the time they close in on the goods, they may detect the boat, or your profile if wading. The key is to minimize the splashdown upon entry, which is done by casting at a low trajectory. No sky bombs, please. Food does not fall from the sky with a big plop. Unless, it’s fully digested food falling from a low-flying pelican. Plus, it’s best to keep the rod, fly or conventional, low throughout the stroke, to not alert a fish. Fly anglers can cast with a sidearm stroke and a flyline and fly will feather down. Spin anglers, with practice, can expertly skip a shrimp, live crab, and even a light skimmer jig, into the water with little splash. Same goes for soft-plastic jerkbaits—they are perfect for this technique.
Veteran bonefishers, including those who do quite well in Florida Keys tournaments, are casting closer to fish than in years past. Bonefish have a maddening tendency to zigzag on a flat as they forage. You get a bearing on their direction, cast for a spot some 10 feet in front, and before the thing touches down, the bone makes a 45-degree turn. Now you can either hope they turn back to their original track (which is a reach) or reel line like mad and recast. With a fly rod, you pick up and recast more quickly. Spinning gear and live shrimp and live, quarter-sized blue crabs account for more fish than flies over heavily fished shallows, but these choice baits have to be delivered as quietly as possible, if cast close to a fish. It’s just a matter of trajectory, casting with a more sidearm motion, with ample “snap” to shoot the bait to the target, very low to the water, rather than high overhead, which results in a noisy entry. With the typical overhead cast, the bait slows down in mid-air, but picks up speed as it falls. With the sidearm delivery, the bait slows down closer to the water, and merely settles in. This cast can also result in a somewhat quieter presentation with a light jig.
More now than ever, flats permit anglers are sticking flies, jigs and live baits (dollar-size blue crabs and shrimp) right in the fish’s face. Many times, this elicits a reaction strike. In essence, it “brings out the jack” in the fish. It has worked for me, and I have to think that this technique has come to light by necessity. The fact that permit can be tough to see—particularly during windy conditions when they are actually less wary and more approachable—has forced anglers to cast at the last minute to fish that aren’t spotted until very close to the boat. You can’t lead a fish by 10 feet when it is only 20 or 30 feet away and closing on you, so you cast in close, with a low trajectory, and hope for the best.
Crossing Shots
Fish swimming at right angles to you present a special challenge in regards to the “don’t-charge” rule. Timing is the key here. If a fish is crossing in front of you, say from your right to left, judge the speed, and then cast far enough ahead, and beyond the expected line of travel so that you can retrieve your offering to make it go away from, rather than toward, the fish. If your timing is off, and the food approaches the fish, it will likely spook, or simply refuse to take. If you are casting lures with spin or casting tackle in clear water, you can normally see your spoon, jig, or a bright soft plastic as you retrieve it, which helps you get it into position in front of the fish. You likely won’t be able to spot a smaller fly, so the position of the tip of a floating fly line will help you estimate where it is in relationship to the fish.
Exit Stage Left
If a fish is swimming away from you, all is not necessarily lost, but the swimming angle has a lot to do with the outcom. A fish going straight away is trickier than a fish going away at a 45-degree angle. Here’s why: Not to sound like a broken record, but you want to avoid charging the fish with the food. However, you can still make your lure or fly appear to be escaping the predator. The key is to cast so that the offering lands well ahead of, and off to the side, rather than directly in the fish’s path. When you suspect the fish is adjacent to the spot where the offering lies on the bottom, get it moving. It will appear to be escaping in a natural manner to the fish, and you may get a take. This is somewhat easier to pull off with spin gear than fly because monofilament or braided line settles much more quietly than a fly line, plus mono and braid does not cast a shadow while in the air.
Happy Tails
A tailing fish is obviously feeding, and preoccupied to a degree, but you can’t just drop a jig on its noggin. Redfish tend to tail more vigorously, and for longer periods in one spot, than bonefish or permit, and I swear I have seen reds get stuck in soft mud bottom and fall over backward while tailing.
Lone tailing fish are often the biggest, wariest fish of all, but at least you are dealing with one target, and don’t chance spooking other tailers in the immediate area. On the other hand, with a pod of tailing fish, competition among individual fish may play in your favor. Casting to a tailing fish calls for timing. Fly casters can cast a fly in close while that tail is in the air, let it sit, and then give it life once the fish’s tail goes down, and its eyes are up. With heavier hardware, you have to be more cautious, casting a few feet or even more from the tailing fish, and then retrieve it into position (without charging the fish with the bait) at opportune time. In clear water, you can plainly see the “business end” of a fish, but not so in dirty water or in low light. Then, only the angle of the tail tells you where the head is. Quickly discern which way the fish is facing, and the likely direction it will eventually head, while it’s tailing. If it’s tailing in deeper water, you may only see the tail edge, and determining which way the head will eventually face is tougher.
When you happen upon a pod of tailing fish, resist the urge to “flock shoot.” That will result in spooked fish; it’s better to pick out an individual fish. Texas guide Capt. Scott Sommerlatte frequently deals with pods of redfish, and super-shallow “crawlers” in marsh environs. “I typically come across pods of redfish milling about and grubbing in the bottom, and facing different directions. You can tell that by their tails,” said Sommerlatte. “I recommend that you cast to the edges first, so as not to spook the whole bunch. If that fails to draw attention, I would go ahead and cast into the group.”
Laid-up Fish and Snoozers
Tarpon lay up and rest in many backcountry bays and basins between flats in Florida Bay. In such quiet environs, stealth is paramount. If you get within casting range of a laid-up fish, it goes without saying that you need to show the offering to the correct end of the fish. Big tarpon tend to suspend just under the surface, in three to 10 feet of water, with their heads slightly lower in the water than their tails. Fly anglers have the advantage in this scenario because buoyant flies that land lightly are best. A long leader helps keep the flyline impact away from the fish, and the drill is to land the fly within a couple feet, allow it to sink to the fish’s eye level, and “bump” it ever so slowly close to the fish’s head. That will elicit a strike, or the fish will spook. Never move the fly erratically or fast in this situation. Conventional lures can work, too, particularly unweighted soft plastics (such as plastic shrimp or crabs) or suspending plugs. With these, it’s best to cast well beyond the fish, and then crawl it into position.
By snoozers, I refer to redfish and snook, seatrout, and even baby tarpon, that lie still on a flat, typically during tide changes when the current is slow or nil, and particularly after an active period of feeding, or tailing. These are not fish in a pothole, actively ambushing bait. And on a busy weekend day, they may have been cast to, or put on alert by other flats fishers. Like big, laid-up tarpon, getting a strike out of these fish requires you to put the offering in their face. They are not going to expend much energy to chase something down. But they are wary, (and maybe full!) and will flush if you charge them on the retrieve, or noisily drop a lure of fly on their heads. Here it takes a light fly or an unweighted natural bait or soft plastic that lands lightly and can be teased slowly into position.
Presentation on the flats is without a doubt the deepest arc in every sight fisherman’s learning curve. Keep the above tips in mind, and use them as guidelines only. On those days when flats fish come out of the woodwork, you may be faced with everything from accommodating tailers to spooky cruisers, so you’ll have to change up your presentation to best suit every shot you get.
