It’s just a simple fact of life. You are either born with a big silver spoon in your mouth, or you are, like the majority, duped into working to scrounge a living for yourself. I fit neatly into the category mentioned in second standings, but I have gotten lucky. I work in a fly fishing shop in downtown Toronto and when I’m not there, I’m on the water. Usually by myself, but on occasion, I’m with guests who have taken an interest in what I do.

“What does this guy doe exactly?” is what most are generally asking themselves at this moment. I guide around my local stomping grounds in southern Ontario. Not for Brown Trout, Steelhead, or Salmon, though I am a man who can certainly accommodate those needs, but the quarry is much bigger, much more technical and much greater challenge. The quarry I chase is Carp.  By now, you are asking yourself if this fellow is for real. I assure you that I am. Carp on the fly is the name of the game and there are few who chase them via fly rod, and even fewer who would readily and openly guide for them.

So while most are out in pursuit of Pike, Trout, or some other “traditional” quarry, I’m out at “The Office” sealing deals with Golden Bones from April to September. This story is all about one of those particular days.

As the sun drifts lower on the horizon, it’s now clear I only have one, perhaps two hours of good light before it’s game over and I’m sent running to the car for bug spray. With my Ross 9wt in one hand, and my #8 Dirty Damsel in the other, I squint into the murky water looking for any movement at all. Even with the water clarity being less than 10 inches, you can still see the dark shadows cruising slowly along the invisible rocky bottom, looking for anything that dares to make an escape attempt.

It certainly doesn’t take long to find them either. At two o’clock, I have four fish sitting still. They are right next to the drop-off into 8 ft of water and looking skittish. At eleven o’clock, there is five fish… maybe six. They are moving along the rocks slowly and despite the butterscotch hue to the water, I can visibly see the front two fish opening and closing their mouths against the bottom. Targets in sight and preparing to engage. I slowly strip off about twenty feet of line and brace myself for what is one of the most challenging aspects of fly fishing I know.

I false cast twice, point to my target, and the fly is there. It hits the water and the fish don’t spook. Eight out of ten times when the fly lands in the water, you will see what seemed like a lazy fish come to life as it heads for the safety of deeper water, leaving you on the bank wondering what the hell just happened. But these two stayed put. The fly, being heavily weighted, shoots to the bottom, sending a puff of silt up around its point of impact with the bottom. The first carp pays no attention, as the fly landed about 14 inches away from its face. As for the second carp, the fly landed an estimated eleven inches in front of it. Exactly enough to get the job done. The second carp makes a quick B-line for the fly, opens wide, sucks it in, and closes up shop. Without even making a second thought, I set the hook. As the old saying goes, “it’s on.”

Before I can react, I’m already into my backing. This fish, like all the others, means nothing short of straight business! He finally stops to rest, so I pick up as much line as I can, and play him back a little, but it is not long before another run follows. As we do battle, I think to myself  “I’ve seen my backing more fishing for carp, than I have in my entire life!” After 10 minutes of tug of war, he comes to shore, and to hand. A beautiful fish measuring around 34″ long. Not the biggest out there without a doubt, but good enough for tonight. Unhooking the fly its from lip, I lower the heavy-set fish into the murky water. Fully submerged, he bolts and is never seen again, just the way I like it.

The sun is out of sight and the wind has called it a day, as should I. I pack up shop, and move towards the end of my night. Satisfied…the ultimate feeling after an evening on the water, chasing an untapped resource. There’s truly nothing like it!