After the Clouds Cleared
Wetting the line after MCO
Brandon Ho FFI CCI
14 June 2020 was the date we decided it was time to give in to our secret desire after endless nights of fly tying. The venue has been selected and the final preparations made. Slightly before 7 am, we arrived the entrance of our fishing venue. The pond was to be open from 7am but there was no sign of anyone there. Ahead of us were several cars waiting to go in. All of them were observing the social distancing, standing 1 metre apart. As the rising sun chased away the darkness, a man on the motorbike rode up to the gate and nonchalantly opened the gate. We drove in and parked our car at our favourite spot.
The first order of the day was to berley the huge pond to attract the fish within casting distance. This is not fair game but this is a pay pond after all. Real fishing trip is still not within our reach under the current circumstances. Our hopes were high, thinking of how hungry the fish would be after almost 3 months of zero fishing pressure. We were so wrong. The only fish that entertained us were the small lampans java or Java Barb, an introduced fish from Sumatra and Java for aquaculture.
These fish thrived in ponds, preferring still water habitats rather than flowing water, eating vegetations and breeding like the proverbial rabbit. On an 8wt, it was an overkill. We were targeting the hard fighting pacu and the 8wt would give us a chance of landing these fish for a photo shoot. After landing incalculable lampans, I decided to switch to my Vision Onki 4 wt matched to a Vision XLV3/4. Now, this made fishing for them fun and exciting. With the floating bread being hammered by these fish, all I needed to do was to cast into the frenzy and wait. If the bite didn’t come, chances were the bread fly would have sunk beyond their feeding zone.
Our target species didn’t really come out until about 4 pm. The whole morning, only Nic and Clevin managed to land one each. The rest of us had to be satisfied with catching the Lampans in the 20 to 30cm range. Not too shabby considering that they only grow to about 40cm.
At 4 pm, like clockwork, the pacu came out to play. Fist sized buns were being swallowed whole and each time they roll, they grey silvery body would catch the sun’s ray. What an amazing sight. These fish were smart and would only take the buns thrown 40 to 50 feet away. As the wind blew the buns closer to shore, they stopped feeding. They are like a pack of wolves waiting beyond the perimeter, ready to pounce on anything that stray too far out.
The modus operandi was simple. Toss the buns as far as you can, usually about 40 feet and beyond. Not an easy task, more so with the wind blowing in your face. Then it is just to wait for the Pacu to arrive.
Soon, the water around the floating bun began to churn. Something large was moving, pushing the water, causing the bread to wobble. Nothing happened for the next few seconds, then the water erupted, splashing the water and when the water calmed down, the bun was gone. Volleys of bun were launched and landed within feet of the action. The fly anglers were at ready, loose line at their feet, several feet of fly line were floating on the green olive water. In a split second, they would have to launch their heavy flies more than 40 feet out towards the commotion. Accuracy and timing counts. There was no room for error and certainly not for the faint hearted. The next fly angler would be standing less than less than 15 feet away. Any mistake in the casting would result in an ugly incident. Having a #1 hook in your face is never fun.
Eyes focused on the water and at the first signs on a frenzy, flies whizzed through the air and within seconds, the white fluffy zonker landed softly on the water. A quick strip of the fly line caused the fly to gently sink. The commotion was still happening around the fly and suddenly the line tightened and shot out of the rod, burning fingers as it exited the rod tip. The reel screamed in agony but the drag did little to slow the fish down. Fly line evaporated from the reel and soon the backing was being stripped as well. Keeping the rod tip low, maximum pressure was applied to the fish and the run slowed before eventually stopping.
The reel was cranked while maintaining a nice bend on the rod. The fish seemed to have thrown in the towel but as it got closer, the fish surged away, taking off the hard earned line. After several heart stopping surges, the fish was led meekly towards the net. Several failed attempts later, the fish was netted and after a quick photo shoot, the fish was released to bully other anglers.
It was a frenzy to be remembered. Multiple hookups were the norm and we were the centre of attention. Curious passersby came up to have a closer look and some even took photos of the fish. While Clevin was fighting his larger than average Pacu on his double handed Onki rod, someone came up to him and said, “This look like fun. Can I try?”. He handed her the rod and guided her to fight the fish. After several minutes of strenuous work out, the fish was expertly landed and a celebratory photo was taken.
The group was the alumni of UPM and their passion for the outdoors brought them here for a good meal after a morning of hiking and trekking. Each of them had a chance to fight the mighty pacu and experienced firsthand the strength of this brute. Clevin explained to them the finer details of fly fishing and also talked about the reason behind our involvement in fly fishing. It seemed that fly fishing has some new fans.
We continued to fish until the final moments of sunlight. In total, close to 50 pacus were landed in the afternoon frenzy. It was an achievement of sort and a great start to the new normal.
If you see us fly fishing and would like to know more, just walk up and talk to us. We are more than happy to introduce you to the wonderful world of fly fishing.