Fly Fishing
By Bob Waite
OK, it’s six and I’m up and out the door without even a cup of coffee. I’m happy. I’m going fly fishing for the first time. I’ve fished freshwater since I was eight years old, and like the despised potential brother-in-law in A River Runs Through It, I used bait—worms, minnows, dough balls—you know, stuff I was sure that fish would eat. Stuff I cast out with my old Mitchell 310 using a fiberglass-spinning rod. Sometimes I used spinners, Rapala lures and other artificial bait, but I had little confidence in them. I always assumed that fish could tell the difference and if I caught anything using artificial bait, it had to be a really dumb fish. Yet, Gary Mauz, Delaware fly-fishing instructor and guide, talked me into going with him on a full-day fly fishing trip.
I arrive in Lumberville early. We are to meet at a spot just a little north of the footbridge. It’s foggy. Gary’s already there, standing outside his truck with, God bless him, a thermos in his hand and a couple of cups. Smiling from ear to ear, he asks, “Are you ready to catch some big fish?” I laugh. “Sure am, and even more ready to have a cup of coffee.”
After coffee Gary says, “First thing you need to do is tie your own fly.” I’m thinking I can barely tie my own shoes with only one cup of coffee, but say, “OK, let’s do it.” By the canal lock there is a picnic table where Gary attaches his fly-tying vice to the table and puts a hook in it. Always the teacher, Gary explains the difference between dry flies and wet flies, and he explains to me the three kinds of flies most fly fishermen try to imitate. Dry flies are mainly for trout fishing and they float on the water. They take some experience to make because they always have to land just right on the surface of the water with the body and wings, out of the water. I learn how to make a wet fly. It isn’t that hard. Gary directs me from wrapping a thread around the hook shank to the final flairs and feathers I put on to trick fish into thinking that what I am casting into the river is food.
Gary hands me my custom-built graphite fly rod. He made it for me a couple of weeks before our trip, and he made it just for me and no one else. It is fitted to my reach, and I chose the colors of the rod and the thread. I also had to decide whether I wanted a rod that was more for fighting fish or casting. I chose casting, which is what most people do, I believe. When Gary handed me my finished rod, I could hardly believe it. The threads that he used to fasten the eyes to the pole were wrapped so close that they looked like a solid piece. The handle, which amazingly looks like one piece, is actually made of several pieces of hollowed cork that are seamlessly put together.
After handing me my rod we walk to the river. Before my lesson on casting, Gary gives me a few pointers on wading. It is early summer and I don’t need waders. Gary already explained to me that I needed to wear something that is strong. He suggested hiking or work boots. I was ready—wearing Bermuda shorts and a pair of old work boots. I walk into the river.
Casting is the thing that scares most people away from fly-fishing. You have this idea of someone who has the line move around over his head and over the water with the grace and skill of a ballet dancer. This imaginary fly fisherman can put his fly anywhere he wishes. It is something I am sure he had to have learned as a child, like riding a bike. How could a clumsy bait fisherman like me cast a fly? Yet Gary nonchalantly says, “Now it’s time to learn to cast.” He then says, “Casting is how we present a fly to the fish.”
And so I am out on the river, Gary standing right beside me showing me how to hold my rod. He casts it out for me and then tells me to let my line out a little at a time. Then I am to pull it up out of the water and cast it back. The motion sounds easy, but a little awkward. “Pull the line out. Start slow and increase your speed and then stop. Look behind you and make sure all the line is behind you before you cast it forward.” There are several problems that Gary helps me to overcome. One is the motion itself. It seems counterintuitive to start slow and then accelerate the motion and then stop suddenly. Yet, if done right, you will feel the rod loading. Gary when he sees it up at the top will often ask, “Feel it?” The next thing to overcome is the natural tendency to look at the water instead of looking at the line to see when it is all behind me.
Gary is continually saying things like, “Look behind you. That’s right. Now cast.” Gary stands next to you and coaches you. You learn a simple but effective way to cast within a very short period of time. Gary’s coaching is like expert operant conditioning. He gives continual feedback and you learn by his reinforcing comments. He even has his own way of grading a cast. If he says “Not too bad,” you know you need improvement. “Getting better” means you are improving and “Sweet” means a perfect cast. If the cast is not at all redeemable he will say something like, “You need to look behind you” or “Bring it up in an accelerating motion.”
I am amazed. I am casting a fly rod. Those overhead swirls that you see fly fisherman doing are called faux or false casts. They look good, Gary said, but are not needed for fishing the Delaware. After showing me how he can do it like any pro on television, he says, “You’ll be doing that someday, but now we need to catch some fish.” I’m ready.
Gary points out a spot where there is a sort of seam between water that is rippling and water that is still. “That’s a place to cast. Fish rest in the still water and feed on the edges of the current.” So I cast right where he points, and let the fly drift. In less than a minute I get a hit. Wow! Action on a fly rod. So I set the hook, something even bait fishermen do, and I fight this feisty smallmouth. Gary is just as excited as I am. He loves nothing more than seeing one of his pupils catch a fish. Now I am hooked on fly-fishing as much as that fish is hooked on the fly I tied 45 minutes earlier. I want to yell, but I don’t. I don’t want to scare the fish.
Seeing Gary as excited as I am makes me think. Gary is an expert fly fisherman, but he has just as much fun when I catch my first fish on a fly rod as I have when I catch it. Gary loves teaching how to fish as much as he loves fishing. He’s not a pro who looks disdainfully on the novice who gets all worked up over catching a smallmouth bass. No. He seems to experience his first catch when you catch it. When Gary was around 13 years old, a friend gave him a box of flies as a present. He looked at them and said, “What am I going to do with these?” Well he found out. “As I got older I wanted to learn about fly fishing and a buddy of mine was interested too. We started going fly-fishing all over. We went to New York and fished the Salmon River. My buddy lost interest and didn’t want to fish here, but I loved fishing the Delaware.” Gary went to fishing seminars and workshops at sporting good stores. He read about it, watched videos and gained tons of experience.
Gary also learned how to read water. He could tell whether a spot was good or not for fishing based on the topography of the river. In effect, Gary learned not only fishing the Delaware, but he also learned the Delaware itself. He had two things necessary for being a guide and teacher. He knew everything about fly -fishing and he knew where to go to catch fish. A carpenter by trade, he never thought of becoming a guide until one day he had just finished fishing in Lumberville and was getting ready to leave. He saw these three fly fishermen getting ready to fish the spot he was at just a short while ago. He said to them, “Cast out and let your fly and swing down and hold it for a little while and then start striping in.” He says, “By the time I got back to my car I heard a guy screaming, ‘I got one!’ So I thought, I got all these fly rods and if I can tell someone how to fly fish, why not teach them? It’s also when I got the idea about guiding. I could give lessons and guide at the same time.”
Gary researched this idea and even decided to see what others were doing. Some believed that a person learning to fly-fish should learn to cast before they fish. Gary didn’t like that idea. There’s no fun if you don’t catch a fish. Besides you didn’t need to be an expert caster to fish. You only needed the basics. Practice would bring you up to speed. Once you catch fish, then you’ll want to become a better caster.
I agree. Catching a fish hooked me. I want to catch more but nothing is biting. Gary tells me that when they stop biting you move. We move just a little upstream and Gary points, saying, “There’s a hole. Cast there.” I do. And bang, another hit. It is more action than the first strike. I try to pull him in too fast and he gets away. In that spot I catch another two fish. It is midmorning and Gary asks, “Are you ready to go on a fly-fishing adventure?”
“What?” Aren’t we on one now?” I ask incredulously.
Gary smiles enigmatically like he’s the Cheshire cat and then asks me to help him with the canoe. I wonder what he is talking about. He put a canoe on the riverbank before I came this morning. It was all ready, furnished with life jackets and paddles. So we gather our gear together and in no time are in the water. The fog had lifted about an hour ago and the river looked glorious. Gary calls this chasing the scenery. He tells me about a couple from Alaska who took the same trip and when they came to a spot near a small island, the woman exclaimed, “It looks as beautiful as the Alaskan wilderness!” I can’t say. I’ve never been to Alaska, but it is a remarkable vista.
We stop and fish. Gary wants me to fish without help now. He goes to get firewood, so that we can cook what we catch for lunch. And it’s fish frijitas on the menu. Wow. We eat a fantastic lunch and fish until around 4 o’clock. Then we have to get back to the truck. How, I wonder, are we going to paddle upstream against the strong current? “We’re not,” Gary says. “We’re taking the expressway.” So we carry the canoe a short distance and put it in the canal to paddle back to where we are parked. What a trip.
Gary offers several kinds of trips. You can go on a half-day trip, a full-day trip or an expedition, where you go for several days, canoeing and camping. He takes families, couples, singles, girls day out and groups. His expeditions are from overnights to four days. “Sometimes,” Gary explains, “an expedition turns into an adventure.” He has some stories of adventures, like when the park service at the Delaware Water Gap had no water for campers. “I was with a man and his two kids. We left in a canoe with only a case of bottled water. It was hot and the water was gone before the day was over. We used river water to cook and boiled it to drink.” Most expeditions go smoothly, Gary assures, with everyone having a great time camping and fishing.
Fishing trips can be, depending on the time of year, for trout, shad, stripers, smallmouth bass and other species. Gary knows where to find the fish. He has been guiding and teaching fly-fishing for 25 years. To contact Gary Mauz, call 215-343-1720 or visit www.FlyFishingGuideService.com. u
Bob Waite is the editor of Bucks County Magazine and a reformed bait fisherman.