Redfish on Tenkara

I have, over the years, landed a broad range of species on tenkara rods. Everything from carp to trigger fish. I have been told by many that I probably hold a world record for the most species caught by this method. The challenge has become a bit of an obsession. Redfish have long been on my radar. They are abundant in a number of lower US states but for some reason, until recently, have alluded my fly fishing travel plans.

This past October I was scheduled to attend an AFFTA Confluence in New Orleans. This presented a perfect opportunity for me to book my stay long enough to arrange for some extra fishing days. Redfish were finally within my grasp and to my delight, October was prime time for targeting them.

I reached out to a fantastic guide, David Phelps, owner of Southbound Fly Expeditions, who I had fished with at Rapids Camp Lodge in Alaska this past August. He was from Louisianna and when he wasn’t there, he was back home guiding for redfish. Luckily David was available the days that I would be in New Orleans and we made fast arrangements for him to pick me up at my hotels in the French Quarter. David was there on the dot at 6:00am. From the hotel on we drove about 45-50 minutes to Hopedale where we would launch his flats boat and start our redfish adventure.

The day was bright and cooler than I expected it would be. I was glad to have brought a jacket. There was a steady wind blowing which would add challenge to the day but would not be impossible to cast in. Over the years I have resolved myself to simply accept the wind. It seems to always be present when it comes to fishing trips. We rode through canal ways and channels for about 40 minutes lined by grassy banks and the occasional alligator quietly resting half hidden in the swallow water. Finally, we reached our first stop to look for fish.

The water was murky. Murkier than I expected. David said high winds churned up the water for several days prior and that stained water was common in the area due to the grassy, muddy island banks that were always releasing a certain amount of sediment into the water caused by tides and currents pushing and pulling against them. It made sense.

The cloudiness of the water often made it difficult to tell how deep it was. In some areas you couldn’t see more than a few inches down, in others you could barely make out the flat bottom. David said we would spend the day on the boat since most of the area was un-wadable.  I was a bit relieved to hear this since the air had a chill in it. In general, the water was between 1 and 4 feet deep and yet, getting a good visual on fish was tough. If they were tailing or making a nice “V” on the surface of the water, we could easily spot them. But often enough we’d suddenly see a big mud “puff” right next to the boat and knew we had just blown up and spooked a fish. The big bulls were another story. These you could see tailing from a long distance away.

Occasionally we would turn a bend or enter a “pond” where the water was very clear, I suppose more protected from the current. This is when we’d scan the surface for yellowy, red blurs slowly moving under the water. They were not particularly shy but would still spook from the boat, a noise or a fright. A cast that put the fly about a foot in front and a foot past them was the mandate – just far enough away from the fish’s nose to get one or two solid strips in their line of sight would do the trick.

Redfish I found, were not picky eaters. If they could see it and it moved, the redfish generally ate. I also appreciated that they didn’t play with their food like some fish species do that bump, nibble and mess with the meal rather than just taking a bite of it. Redfish have good, healthy appetites and are void of any eating disorders like permit and trigger fish tend to have. I liked that.

We used a 9wt and had a 10wt too. 50lb test and small tarpon-like fly patterns in the brown, gold and orange color wheel were our poison. Sometimes with a little sparkle. If placed accurately in front of the fish, “pattern” and color seemed fairly unimportant though. Redfish for the most part, were indiscriminatory and willing eaters. I liked that too.

When targeting a new species, I aways like to get a few in the boat on a reel. Just to get a sense for what I’m up against and how the fish will behave. This is also effective at calming my nerves. As David poled us around one small pond area mud puffs were coming up all around us. Fish were definitely there. But by the time we saw them, they were so close that getting any stripping in was next to impossible. Finally, spotting a slight disturbance in the water, I was able to cast to fish a little farther away.  Although I was satisfied with my casts, I got no takers or even interest and figured the fish might be struggling to see the fly, like we were struggling to see the fish.  We decided a closer cast was necessary and strategized that risking bopping the fish on the head was better than the fish not seeing the fly at all. The strategy worked. I quickly landed a few and felt confident I could manage the fight on my Zen Kyojin Tenkara Rod. Probably even my Taka or Suimenka too.

We rigged up the Zen Kyojin with a 28ft Zen Fusion Line/Big and about 9 feet of 25lb test leader. I rushed back onto the platform and started scanning the water surface for fish. Several were spotted but we quickly realized that the 28ft line was way too long for this scenario. We couldn’t see fish 35-40ft away. We could only see them in closer, so we made fast work to switch out the line to a shorter 16-foot length and also took 2 feet off the leader. Immediately I had several follows and then a hit. I was on!

The fight was relatively short. About a minute and a half. The fish took two run attempts but was kept under control by steady pressure and some quick maneuvering along the length of the boat. The ability to wade always makes these tenkara landings much easier, but since I was not able to get in the water, moving up and down the length of the boat was all the movement that I could manage. It seemed to be enough. Steady pressure to the side, lowering the rod closer to the surface of the water when the fish tried to run, and accommodating the fish’s desire for movement, with my own movement, seemed to be enough to manage these slot sized redfish which run from about 18″ on up to 28″.

Suddenly, we spotted two fish to the port side of the boat about 20ft away. They were a perfect distance for the setup I had in hand. I made a cast – a perfect cast quite honestly, of one of the fish took it. As it went for the fly and broke the surface of the water David and I realized this was a bull red, about 45″ long and thick like a submarine. It hit my fly like a tank. I simultaneously let out a “word” and braced for the rod to explode. It did not. I actually held onto the fish for a few moments. Long enough to feel the fish’s great strength and power. Long enough to feel the rod bend and flex and its strength and power. And then, PoP! Not the rod though, instead, the 25lb test leader broke right below the knot and the fish was gone.

The fight lasted only a few moments. A short fight, but still a fight. Losing a fish like that is always sad. Even though when I saw just how big a fish it actually was, I knew I’d lose it, I had to wonder, “What if I had been on foot wading? Would I have been able to run and hold it?” Thoughts like that never leave me even days, months and years later. I still ponder, “What if?”

In the end, I was super satisfied and very proud. The 25lb leader broke, not my tenkara rod. That alone is huge. And for the few moments we were connected, I was able to feel the power and muscle not only of the fish, but also of the rod. A proud moment indeed. I landed redfish on my tenkara rod. Slot size. I hooked a few Alligator gar and landed some pretty sweet bulls on my rod and reel too. And I liked all of it.