Indigo Guide Service

Indigo Guides Steve Martinez and Kevin Morlock will be attending the FlyMasters of Indianapolis open house Saturday, October 24th, 2009.  We are looking forward to answering questions, tying flies and eating that great lunch.  FlyMasters is a great shop that is just stuffed with everything fly fishing and they also have a very experienced and knowledgeable staff.  If you have the time stop in and please say hello. Visit the FlyMasters site for more detail and directions.

Saturday October 24th is the BIG DAY

Beginning our 20th year in the Fly Fishing business. It is going to be a great year, come and have some fun with us in the coming year.

>>>New York Strips for the first 200 people, prime rib will be served as back up.

>>>New Rods and other fun equipment for 2010 from our various reps.

>>>We will have guides from Alaska, Great Lakes, and the Caribbean to discuss fishing opportunities near and far!

>>>Wine Tasting from 1-3 p.m. Taste some white and red wines and get ready for the holiday season.

>>>John Shaner, from Hardy, will be here on our 20th year kickoff party October 24th and will service any Hardy reels you have. John can tell you everything about your reel. It is just like the antique road show for fly fishing reels!

More details to come before October 24th. Reserve the day for yourself and have a great lunch on us!

The article "A bowfin for the books… The 30 inch bofin/dogfish is a world record" by Brandon Butler (Driftwood Outdoors) appeared in Woods-N-Water News in October 2009.  You can view the article on the Woods-N-Water News site here.

A bowfin for the books… The 30 inch bowfin/dogfish is a world record

Reaching a point of satisfaction when in pursuit of spawning steelhead is an anomaly. You don’t really want to leave the stream, but every part of your body says it’s time. Cold feet, a sore forearm and the knot on the back of your head from a chuck without the duck, are just a few of the many possible physical strains of a day spent battling silver explosives. One day last spring, I was experiencing my share of discomfort, but had no intention to pull off the river before sunset.

Standing mid-stream with a look of delirium in my eyes, my guide, Kevin Morlock, broke my trance, when he asked if I’d had enough. Snapped back to the world of reality, I politely but assuredly said "no." Like a greedy Wall Street banker dissatisfied with only 15 million, I wanted more. I’d lost track of the number of steelies hooked and landed that day, but who was counting anyways.

As a fulltime guide, Kevin has had to learn to deal with obsession. Guides with any number of days under their belt are familiar with the psychological effects fishing can have on a client. So like a doctor promising a sucker at the end of the visit if you don’t cry while getting your shot, Kevin coaxed me from the frigid river with the promise of rounding out the day on Pere Marquette Lake stripping streamers for northern pike.

With a few hours of sunlight remaining, we launched from Sutton’s Landing. Michigan is home to so many species of fish; it’s hard to say what you might stumble upon any given day. Our intentions for this trip were to try and boat northerns and possibly smallmouth on fly rods in open water. If we happened across a stray steelhead, salmon or brown trout, all the better. What we never expected though, was to catch a new world record bowfin, or dogfish.

Kevin, my wife Melissa, and I were taking turns casting along the rocky shore just east of the gigantic car ferry, the S.S. Badger. Bank fishermen were scattered about, sitting bundled in layers of clothing. Their motionless bobbers and stagnant tight-lines sat idle. The obvious contentment of these sportsmen to stare at the water as opposed to a television is a great testimony to the resolve of northern outdoorsmen. Southern bass fishermen should be forced at some point of their life to spend a few days of patience apprenticeship by northern ice fishers. Clarity can be found in long stretches of monotonous angling.

In the shadow of the enormous S.S. Badger, we were completely striking out. Across the lake, reeds extend out into shallow water forming numerous little coves. Kevin motored us over there, in part to get out of the wind, and in part to search for fish along a break dropping off a reed covered flat. First, he asked if we wanted to rest and have a snack with some hot coffee. Melissa and I said yes, so we pulled deep into one of the coves, and anchored in only a couple of feet of water. With coffee brewing in a peculator and sweet rolls on the grill, the three of us kicked back to relax.

As I stared at a log lying on the bottom mere feet from the bow of the boat, I took a double-take when its fin began to flicker.

"Look at that fish," I said. Pointing to the prehistoric, aquatic monster.

"Oh, man." Kevin said. "That’s a huge dogfish."

I removed my chartreuse and white Clouser minnow from the hook keeper, just above the handle of my fly rod. With only 8 feet or so of line, I jigged the streamer in front of the fish. No response. I then lifted the Clouser over the top of the fish, and proceeded to bounce the weighted fly on the fish’s head. It stirred.

"He’s ready," Kevin said.

I moved the fly in front of the fish’s mouth, and it disappeared. I gave a strong hook set. Then the water erupted. Bowfin can fight, and a fish of this size can fight well. I struggled with the monster for a few minutes. It took a few runs, before eventually it glided into the net.

I hoisted the fish out and quickly recognized it to be the largest dogfish I had ever seen. It had been years since I had caught one, and none I had ever landed looked like this monster. Its fish was old and tattered looking. A hue of red mixed with yellowish-green created a unique fin color. The fish’s teeth resembled the mouth of a miniature shark, and its body a python. I was in awe of the magnificent specimen’s repulsive beauty.

Kevin asked me what I wanted to do with the fish. I never considered any option other than returning it to the water. We took a measurement-a hair over 30 inches. Kevin said that he had no idea what size bowfin would qualify for Michigan fish of the year program, but this one would have to be close. We took some pictures and slid the dinosaur back into the abyss.

The Michigan fish of the year size qualifications for bowfin are 27 inches or 7 pounds. Mine easily made it, which promoted me to explore the world record bowfin. The all tackle world record bowfin, registered in the Fresh Water Fishing Hall of Fame is 21 pounds 8 ounces, caught by Robert L. Harmon Forest Lake, South Carolina on January 29, 1980. The thing about world records though, is that there are numerous classes. I researched the fly fishing, catch and release class, and realized I possibly had world record.

My bowfin is now the National Fresh Water Fishing Hall of Fame, catch and release, fly fishing, 20 pound tippet class world record. It sounds funny to me, too. I know it’s not the true "world record," but it was a hell of a fish, and no one else has ever registered a larger one caught in the same method of mine. So I’m pleased to have the accomplishment recorded, and I’m pleased to be associated with the National Fresh Water Fishing Hall of Fame.

When I was a kid, I stood in the mouth of the muskie. For those who don’t know what I’m speaking of, part of the National Fresh Water Fishing Hall of Fame is a large museum built like a muskie. At the top of the seven stories tall structure is an observation deck in the muskie’s mouth. I was taken to the museum 20 years ago by one of the greatest men I’ve ever known, my grandfather. Logging my fish with the Hall, plays upon that memory.

During my youth, I often accompanied my grandparents on fishing trips. We regularly visited Lake Shore Resort in Osakis, Minnesota. Grandma and grandpa, and their old-timer friends would sit on the resort pier late at night filling baskets with crappie. Every once in awhile, one of them would catch a dogfish. They would tell me to take the fish to the shore, cut it open and throw it in the fish cleaning house. I never had the heart for it, though. I always took the fish to the other side of the resort and returned them to the water. I understand the damage bowfin supposedly cause to game fish populations, but even at a young age, I knew they were just trying to survive. I like to think I’ve been rewarded.

The Fresh Water Fishing Hall of Fame is the international headquarters for education, recognition and promotion of fresh water sportfishing. Our mission is to develop and maintain the Fresh Water Fishing Hall of Fame and its museum for the preservation and display of historical artifacts of fresh water sportfishing. We strive to conduct and maintain a program for the recognition of persons, organizations and institutions that have made significant and lasting contributions to the sport and heritage of fresh water fishing.  (Taken from the Hall’s website www.freshwater-fishing.org)

Brandon Butler is busy maintaining his new blog Midwest Sporting Journal. Check it out at www.midwestsportingjournal.com

Guided Trip on the Pere Marquette River, August 26-27, 2009 with Indigo Guide Kevin Morlock
Jeremy is one of my favorite people to fish with… he fishes hard all day and is always happy and upbeat.  kevin

Kevin,

"Thanks for a terrific 2 days on the water…the screams you hear in the morning will be me realizing I have to go back to a JOB instead of doing what I really want to do.  Maybe we’ll see you for steelheads!"

Jerry Quintiliani

Late summer king salmon are a lot of fun and we are literally days away from getting a big push of fish into the Pere Marquette. They're fresh out of the big lake and are the hardest fighting fish we have. We chase them mostly with hardware because they do not respond well to flies. Deep diving crank baits are typically the most effective for us. We do, occasionally, tie flies with spinner blades that also work well. Anything that stimulates their lateral line usually gets a reaction.

If you want to experience these incredible fresh king salmon, drop us a line. We have days open for late August and early September.

This is a fun video of some of the guys fishing in August a couple years ago for early kings.

Fishing for king salmon and steelhead in West Michigan on the Pere Marquette River in August. With Mark Knee and Kevin Morlock of Indigo Guide Service and Walt Grau from the Spey Rod Outfitter and Guide Service. We were casting Storm Thundersticks on spinning gear and the fish were red hot.

The article "Carp Of Beaver Island… Champagne dreams on a beer budget!" by Brandon Butler (Driftwood Outdoors) appeared in the Woods-N-Water News in July 2009.  You can view the article on the Woods-N-Water News web site here.

 

Carp Of Beaver Island… Champagne dreams on a beer budget!

Settling into my seat on the Emerald Isle, anticipation gave way to acceptance. Month after month had been crossed off my calendar as I awaited the arrival of this 4th of July expedition. In the back of my mind, I slightly questioned driving over 500 miles to fly fish for carp; the same rough fish that swim a stone’s throw from home. But I had been guaranteed by a fisherman I trust too well, that this experience would be one I would never forget. So as the ship’s engines began to rumble I took heart, yearning for the unknown.

As the two-hour, thirty-two mile ferry ride closed in on the tiny town of St. James, I realized all I knew about Great Lake Islands would not summarize this place. Beaver Island’s weathered old lighthouse greets travelers much like a great-grandparent too feeble to rise from his rocking chair, but happy to see you nonetheless. The harbor moors only a handful of boats and the pier at the marina looks as if Roosevelt commissioned the Civilian Conservation Corps to modernize the Island.

Kevin Morlock is a well known salmon and steelhead guide on the rivers of western Michigan. Kevin and I have fished together numerous times, and I have come to respect his wealth of knowledge, but when he told me he was designing a flats fishing boat to target carp around the islands of Michigan’s archipelago, I thought maybe he’d finally spent one two many days in the sun.

Keeping within the boundaries of simplicity I had elected to leave my tent at home in favor of a hammock. Hung between two trees where the wind would rock me to a serenade of waves. My weary fisherman’s body rested well at the end of a hard day’s night.

Carp fishing improves as the day grows warmer. There’s no reason to get up early, leaving plenty of time to lounge about sipping morning coffee. Making for a great start to a relaxing day.

With the sun high in the bluebird sky, Kevin and I launched his boat; a brand new, 17 ft. deep-v, with a 40 horse. The real kicker though, is the rear mounted platform and the twenty foot push pole. Like most of us who harbor champagne dreams on a beer budget, I have longed for the Caribbean since reading my first flats article, but have never come close to saving enough money to go. Diapers and milk, you know. So the idea of a steelheading maestro, perched atop a platform, pushing me around in search of tailing carp in the northern most reaches of America, was somewhat of an obscure realization of a dream come true.

We took off from the eastern shore of the island and headed for the southern tip. We wanted to go where the waves would push into small bays. The water temperature reading on the main lake was in the low sixties; a bit too cold for aggressive carp. Kevin knew the water would be warmer in the south bays, causing pods of carp to gather in the shallow water. I never anticipated this trip would change my perception of a species I knew so little about, but as we spotted carp after carp cruising the outer edge of the flats, I began to accept my new found respect for these fish. Many people back home shoot carp with bow and arrow and simply throw them to the wayside as if they are worth nothing more than a moment’s excitement. How the carp ever came to be such a disrespected game fish is beyond me, but I now believe the first time any consummate conservationist sees one of these finicky feeding, beautiful beasts cruising crystal clear water in search of forage, their perception will be forever changed.

We moored the boat in a few feet of water and began a stealthy approach to the shallows. The water temperature in the bay we were stalking was 75 degrees; perfect for feeding fish. Stalking fish with a fly rod, in essence allows me to combine two of my greatest passions; fishing and hunting. I slipped up behind a large boulder, positioning myself 50 feet or so from a small pod of a half-dozen carp. Fly placement is crucial when fishing carp. Their eyesight is poor and they’re not aggressive chasers. It’s essential to present your fly within an area the size of a basketball hoop in front of the fish you’re targeting.

Assumptions are always dangerous when lacking proper research. Based on sheer numbers alone, I figured these fish would be easy to catch, but they are not. I worked this little pod for nearly an hour, before finally, a fish took. The moment is still fresh in my mind. I was growing anxiously annoyed, when I targeted a carp on the outskirts of the pod. The cast was a few feet beyond the fish, perfect for allowing my goby imitation time to sink the necessary two feet. As I strip-strip-stripped the minnow along the bottom, allowing for a pause just in front of the fish’s face, I watched with amazement as its bugle-mouth opened and inhaled my fly. Somehow I kept my excitement in check and executed a solid hook set. The fight was on.

As the thirty-inch fish ran for deep water, I slightly tightened my drag. We struggled back and forth for a good fifteen minutes before I finally brought the fish to hand. As I cradled the

fish, I realized never before in nature had I physically experienced a lesson of ignorance so profound, so obviously wrong. Carp are amazing. I released the fish back into the aqua waters as carefully as I would have a 25 in. Au Sable "Holy Waters" brown trout.

A nearby boulder begged me to take a break. I saddled onto the rock, realizing that in no direction could I see the hand of man. The only sounds I could hear were the waves breaking on the shore behind, and the wind whipping across the endless water. In search of carp on a fly, I found a paradise on Beaver Island.

For more information regarding travel to Beaver Island, contact the Beaver island Chamber of Commerce at (231) 448-2505 or view their website www.beaverisland.org. Travel to beaver Island can be arranged through the Beaver Island Boat Company by calling 1-888-446-4095 or by visiting their website www.bibco.com.

Brandon Butler is a syndicated outdoor writer from Bloomington, Indiana. He may be contacted through his website www.driftwoodoutdoors.org.