Stealth Fishing   

I leaned on the parapet of the bridge over the Little Lehigh, discouraged at the results of my last hour’s fishing.  The trout were actively feeding, despite the presence of an unusually large number of anglers for a weekday;  But they seemed to be concentrating on the tiny Caenis, not the Sulphur duns which floated, unmolested, above them.  I’d seen them refuse naturals, and my smallest imitations had received only disdainful looks.  Were they actually taking emergers?  Were those itty-bitty midges even smaller than I thought, or a slightly different color from my flies?  Or were they so selective they were only taking left-handed female Caenis born with the moon in Virgo and a slight limp in their right hind leg???  A devout presentationist, I scowled at the thought of trout that selective.

The sun was almost directly overhead, and anglers began to disappear, in search of their own food forms.  The trout in the long pool below me moved away from the sheltering banks, undulating gracefully in the glass-clear water.  Once in awhile they’d pick something from the surface, or just below it.  Those damn left-handed midges, I thought.  Then I clearly saw one of the larger browns confidently take a Sulphur dun.  I searched my pockets for the monocular I carried for birdwatching, and focused on the feeding fish.  While I watched, several sucked in floating leaf debris and spit it out;  One snapped at a floating aluminum gum wrapper, another at a cigarette butt.  Of course, they also took insects:  Sulphurs, terrestrials, and, naturally, the midges.

I had learned a valuable lesson.  I’d always thought the trout in this famous stream were so accustomed to seeing anglers, they ignored them, feeding freely.  But that day I discovered that, although they must feed when fishermen are around or starve to death, they hardly feed freely.  They feed with extreme paranoia.  This vanishes rapidly when their are no anglers around.  Then they feed like starving dieters at a buffet, with no friends watching.

Of course I’d known one must approach wild fish in remote streams carefully, but after this incident I began to apply similar techniques to more sophisticated trout in hard-fished streams.  “Stealth fishing”...  It’s effective everywhere.

I first began developing this technique years ago during my early panfishing days.  My casting deficiencies limited my casting range, and, to my frustration, even sunnies in shallow water were too wary to keep feeding close enough for me to reach them.  Even when long practice allowed me to reach the fish, casting accuracy and hooking percentage went ‘way down on those long casts.  That’s not just true for me, but for everyone, a matter of physics.  So, to enable those short casts that are so effective, I had to learn ways to get in range of fish without alerting them.

Start well back from the water.  Pause to study the water from a distance of 10 or 12 feet.  Underwater photographs with a “fish-eye” lens have showed that an angler at this distance is not much higher than a blade of grass.  Look not only for fish or their lies, but for the best angles to cast to them from.  Keep in mind currents that may cause drag, obstructions in the water, and backcast room.  Remember fish usually face upstream and plan an approach to the water that will place you downstream of your target.  Take advantage of streamside cover;  One of my favorite ways to do this is to walk up behind a tree, then slip carefully around it so my silhouette is backed by that of the tree.  Walk softly.  Vibrations travel quickly through water to a trout’s sensitive lateral line, including the vibrations of footsteps on the bank.  Those bushes and that high grass you curse for snagging your fly are your friends during your approach to the water.  If cover is sparse or low, or fish extremely wild, you should crouch or even crawl into casting position.

Wear clothes that blend with your background.  Pale colors that would fade into the backdrop of sky were standard when I began fishing, but I quickly abandoned them, even resorting to dying beige vests dark green or brown.  I do not want to be silhouetted against sky if I can help it.  I want my fish unsuspecting and gullible.  I’ve even resorted to camouflage in some situations, despite the very odd looks I get from other fishermen.  Keep backcasts low and false casting to a minimum.  Long fine leaders are usually helpful.  Be wary of floatants, sunscreens, or insect repellent that has a strong odor or leaves a telltale oil slick on the water.  Play fish quickly to hand and remember to rest the water after releasing a fish.  One heresy I often commit when stealth fishing is dropping my terrestrial directly over the fish’s head.  An undisturbed fish sees that as natural behavior for a terrestrial, and has to make a quick decision to take it before it floats behind him.  Frequently this quick decision is a reflexive yes.

Sometimes I cut the leader back, or use a short one with a rapid taper, and crawl through shrubbery to dap flies over trout that can’t be reached any other way.  This is a very effective and exciting technique, requiring  a slow quiet approach in tight cover, but I’ve taken sophisticated trout from the Little Lehigh and the Yellow Breeches this way, on some very unlikely flies.

I fish from the bank wherever possible, remembering the speed of sound in water and how sensitive fish are to vibration.  It’s impossible to wade without shifting rocks or gravel and sloshing a bit.  When you wade, take it slowly, watch for good footing, and be mindful of your overhead cover.  A wading angler is more likely to be visible than one hidden in the clutter of bankside vegetation.  It’s especially important to plan your approach to each target carefully and rest the water once you’ve reached your chosen position.  My early discipline for curbing my eagerness was to not tie on my fly until I was in my casting position.

Anyone who has fished stillwater from a boat or float tube is aware of the curious fact that fish seem unafraid of boat keels or dangling legs invading their world. I think it’s because of the silence with which boats and ‘tubes move. I’ve given this a great deal of thought, because it reveals just how much fish depend on their lateral line for sensory input.  Fish cannot detect airborne dangers by vibration and tend to use their vision for that, focusing on the surface and what’s beyond it.   But their sensitive lateral line is their guardian against underwater danger while they concentrate their vision elsewhere.  Confirming this theory is the fact that the least noise from a boat, foot-shuffling or equipment carelessly banged against the hull, will scatter fish that were unalarmed by the sight of the boat.

Unfortunately, it’s not just your stealth that will affect your fishing.  Other anglers and wildlife can spook your target fish and ruin a good stalk.  Not much can be done about waterfowl, birds of prey, or aquatic mammals, but other fisherman are another story.  This is where we begin to see there are very practical reasons for traditional stream etiquette.  If you are too close to another angler, the fish may see him even if it is unaware of you, and thus be on the alert.  A passing fisherman may walk too close to the bank, and you may be tempted to respond to his cheery Any luck? with:  Yes, until your elephant-footed stomping scared every trout in the county!   Not much you can do about this, except try to choose vacant pools away from convenient trails.  This is practical for you and has the added benefit of being courteous to others who may have put as much effort into stalking fish as you do.  Stealth fishing is courteous fishing.  Practice it, and you’ll find more and more good anglers choose you as their preferred fishing buddy, and pick up good fishing etiquette from your good example.  You’ll also enjoy less frustrating and more successful fishing.

--Rabbit Jensen--