November 19, 2004

A Connetquot Slam consists of landing all three of the trout this fantastic spring creek holds; a rainbow, a brookie, and a brown.

What and where is the Connetquot? Picture this: Protected water, finicky browns, bruiser rainbows, and opportunistic brookies. Fly fishing only, barbless hooks, catch and release, half of the water is designated as No Wading. Sound like any place you know? It does to me too...but then again, it's probably not what you were thinking either. I was thinking Heritage Trout waters of Pennsylvania—Slate Run, Little Lehigh, etc. But Long Island?

The day began a little earlier than I had wished. I still needed to get a New York State Non-resident license and the Walmarts in that area didn't open until 7:00. The ESCTU chapter members were going to meet at the main gates at 7:30, and I'm sitting in the parking lot of a Walmart in Hempstead, NY, about 25 miles away, at 6:30. A long story (too long to bore you with here), and three Walmarts later, I had my license. It was now 9:00, and I was finally pulling through the gates of Connetquot State Park after battling relentless traffic.

Fishing the Connetquot is a bit different than most people are used to. The river is divided up into 30-some beats which are chosen by draw if you're part of a group, or, if fishing on your own, on a first-come, first-serve basis. Showing up an hour and a half late, I didn't receive a Beat, but, after the first hour, it doesn't matter anyway as you're allowed to seek out action on other beats. Etiquette does rule here though. Don't step into someone's beat who may be fishing it on another part of the stream. Connetquot's rules state that no only one "rod" per beat at a time. Chances are, however, that you would probably be able to fish whatever beat you wish—patience will dictate.

I worked my way downstream (or, up in ascending numerical order), fish everywhere. I began watching their behavior and noticed that were at least feeding, be it nymphs, emergers, or pupae. The porpoising I witnessed gave no doubt that there was something prompting these fish to come up off the bottom.

Having heard that a pink scud/shrimp is the "go-to" fly on this water, I tied one on underneath of a foam indicator. With water so clear that you can watch the trout's every move, I was miffed that not a single fish moved towards the fly, more specifically, they moved away from it. I switched to more traditional searching patterns to see if I could elicit some sort of a reaction. The foam indicator on one setup seemed to be the most effective, a little brookie came up and in one swift move, took it under and straight to the bottom. The one fly I did deem effective even without an effective hook-set, was a brassie. I tied a couple of different versions of this, both seemingly equally effective.

Before frustration kicked in full force, I gathered my gear and kept heading downstream, where I stumbled up Beat 11, one of the beats that my friend, Tom, had recommended. Just about every beat on the Connetquot has a dock that extends into the river enough to allow casting to several areas...but not all areas. Having a quiver full of "special" casts will greatly increase your chances in hooking a fish here. At bare minimum, you should be proficient in roll casting. My first fish, a nice and fat rainbow, was caught roll casting a brassie to a cut along the opposite bank.

Beat 10 had opened up downstream and the water looked very nice—lots of visible activity, though no visible hatches. I tried prospecting with a scud, again with no susccess. I pulled out my fly boxes and started rummaging around, when I came across an Al's Rat. Well, it worked so well for me yesterday on the Little Lehigh, who's to say that it won't here? On my first cast, I let the fly swing right in the middle of the current when a little brookie shot up from the bottom and took it without abandon.

This scene repeated itself for another six or seven times, not realizing that I was starting to get tired of eight- to ten-inch fish. The Rat worked as well here, and I should say, even better as some people I believe get a little too fancy with their choice in flies here.

A bit downstream from where I was wading, there was more visible activity. I had tied on a large stimulator with a Rat underneath. Holding tight to the bank were a string of fairly large rainbows, one of which took the Rat as my line made its way downstream. The fish started tearing around the river and had just started pulling line off the reel when the hook pulled out of its mouth. After checking the fly, the knot and the line, I started casting across the current again. The brookie that hit this time took the dry. Now things were looking up!

I proceeded to catch a couple more in the same manner when I noticed some unusually large splashes 60-70 feet downstream. I positioned myself in the middle of the stream and began double-hauling my casts to get them close to the action. I missed the first set then after a couple of more "repositioning" casts, had a definitive take that woke me up a bit. This was by far the biggest fish of the day. After about 5 minutes of peeling line from the reel, I finally got it into the net. This is what I was hoping for, a hefty, healthy brown. As you can see from the photo, it was in beautiful shape, and a gorgeous golden color.

Satisfied for the day, I wanted to get back on the road before the traffic got too bad. Note: the traffic on Long Island and Staten Island is ALWAYS bad unless it's unusually early or late, so, STAY AND FISH until it's time to leave).

I met up with a couple of the ESCTU members in the parking area, exchanged stories, and showed them some of the photos on the camera.

There was an older buck hanging around the lot, observing with caution, pausing to nibble on whatever was underneath the leaves. I made a clicking sound and held out my hand to the deer, who came within a couple feet—close enough to see that I didn't have anything to offer him. I opened up the truck and pulled out the box of Wheat Thins I 'd bought for the road trip. This time, he came right up and took it right out of my hand. I managed to get a photo of him taking a cracker from me. An interesting way to end an interesting day...aside from the 5 hour ride some in bumper-to-bumper traffic. Oh, yeah, I'm on Long Island.