By Paul Lebowitz

Fly fishing guide Mike Allen was sitting quietly on his kayak on the wide open waters of Mission Bay, fly rod in his right hand. With his left, he periodically twitched the line, causing the tiny pink fly unseen at the end to dance along the bottom. Suddenly Allen drew the rod back, and his face lit up as he whooped in delight. A spotted bay bass had snapped up his imitation ghost shrimp. Typical for the species, the small fish was putting up a spirited fight.

Allen’s fishing partner and fellow guide Dennis Farrier watched from nearby. As the battle continued, I remembered what Farrier had told me earlier about fly fishing. “You can’t fish a fly rod like a conventional,” he’d said. Fly fishing is a finesse game, a struggle on even ground. The tackle is matched to the quarry so fish can’t be powered in, but must be carefully played, making each catch a satisfying accomplishment.

Wearing a broad smile on his face, Allen scooped up the 12-inch long spotted bay bass. It was far from the largest fish he’d ever caught on the fly, yet it didn’t look as if Allen could be any happier. That could be because he’d just proved his point that Southern California’s bays offer fine sport for fly casters. It’s a backyard opportunity that some area fly fishers overlook in their zeal to hunt trout up in the Sierras or some other prime high country fly water. The better fight is right here at home.

“To me there is no comparison between saltwater fish and trout,” said Allen. “Saltwater fish are like trout on steroids. Their life is eat or be eaten, they’ve got to be pretty tough.”

The local bays also provide a gentle introduction for those taking up the sport. A precision fly cast isn’t required. In most cases all you have to do is hit the water. Working the wet flies used for the local saltwater bass and halibut isn’t overly technical either.

“It’s actually easier than fly casting in the Sierras,” said Allen. “The fish are at home on the bottom. Once you get the fly down there, all you have to do is move it along the bottom by drifting or striping line.”

Fly Fishing Kayak Style
Fly anglers can float Southern California’s bays on boats, or patrol the shoreline shallows in pursuit of fish. Allen prefers to use his Hobie Outback. Fly fishing the bays from a kayak is “gorgeous, stealthful, quiet, beautiful, we love it,” said Allen.

“You can catch anything from a flyrod, and just about anything from a kayak,” chimed in Farrier.

Other than the aesthetic reasons, the obvious advantages of fly fishing the bays from a fishing kayak are the low cost and maintenance load relative to owning a boat and the ability to access skinny water. But the fly angler will most appreciate the stealth factor. No craft is quieter.

There are a few downsides that must be accommodated. It is more difficult to spot fish from the low vantage of a kayak cockpit. Casting from the seated position takes some getting used to. Boat control can be frustrating, because most kayakers can’t hold position against current or wind. Allen solves that problem by using a pedal-powered Hobie Mirage Drive kayak. Instead of putting down the fly rod and picking up the paddle when he drifts off a spot, Allen just kicks lazily to remain on station.     

Managing the loose line stripped from the reel while working the fly can be an issue. The coils are prone to snag on seat hardware, rod holders, paddle keeper clips, and other deck clutter. Allen says most kayak fly anglers keep the deck forward of the cockpit as clean as possible to prevent problems. Rod holders, and you’ll need at least one specifically designed to hold a fly rod, should be installed out of the way behind the cockpit.

Casting a fly rod from the confined seat of a kayak can be tough for those still developing that illusive perfect form. According to Allen, turning the problem on its side vastly simplifies the issue. Instead of facing forward, sit side-saddle with your legs dangling in the water. Scoot forward a bit. Strip line into the empty seat. Hardware in the way? “Lay a beach towel over it to lessen the chances of snagging the line,” advises Allen.

Basic Tackle for Fly Fishing the Bays
Allen uses a 7-weight fly rod in the Southland’s sheltered saltwater.

A 6 or 8-weight will get you by. Allen’s bay rod is the typical 9-foot model.

Like virtually every other bit of gear pertaining to the rod or line in fly fishing, sinking line or tippet carries a numerical rating. In this case it indicates how quickly or slowly it sinks, expressed in IPS or Inches Per Second. Allen normally uses 4 to 5 IPS tippet. Consider the implications. After making a cast in 12 feet of water, Allen has to wait about 30 seconds for the fly to hit bottom before he can start his retrieve.

The fastest sinking tippet generally available is 7 IPS. The maximum practical depth to fish bottom or structure-hugging spotted bay or calico bass in the bays is 25 to 30 feet, dependent of course on favorable wind and current.

Between the fly and the sinking tippet or line you’ll need a leader. In the bays, where the fish strike hard, Allen doesn’t bother with the gossamer-thin 7X threads typically used to target wary trout. Those have a breaking strength of only 1 to 2 pounds. With a breaking strength of 4 to 5 pounds, 3X to 5X leaders are a better choice. Perhaps the best bet is to go with conventional leader material. Allen uses 6-pound test fluorocarbon in lengths of 5 to 6 feet.  

Most flies fool fish by replicating the natural forage. In freshwater, bits of feather and tufts of fur and fluff are often tied into tiny lures that resemble minnows or aquatic insects. The minnow masqueraders carry over to the saltwater that fills Southern California’s bays.

For an example, Allen points to the various Clouser patterns in blue or chartreuse and white. In the salt, the analogues to the insect imitations are flies that look like shrimp or crabs. Here reds and oranges are common.

Cast your fly towards a likely area, and then count it down to the bottom. Once it is there, the action to impart depends on the type of fly used. Allen makes short 5 to 6-inch strips every few seconds when he’s baiting a shrimp imitation. Minnow imitations like Clousers are pulled in faster with long strips of a foot or two. The erratic action mimics an injured baitfish.

FLY GUY – Kayak fly fishing guide Mike Allen loves to fish the bays, where the “fish are like trout on steroids” and where “total fish contact, catching fish after fish” is a distinct possibility.

BEGINNER FRIENDLY BAYS – Southern California’s bays are a forgiving setting for beginning fly anglers. If you can hit water with your cast, you’ll catch fish. Here first-time fly angler Drew Clark, a Hobie Kayaks pro staffer, shows how easy it is to look like an accomplished caster.

TASTY FLY – The flies of choice for fishing Southern California’s bays imitate baitfish or crustaceans. Since the saltwater fly scene is still something of a frontier, there is a lot of room for innovation. The pictured ghost shrimp imitator is a perfect example. Known as the DUI, it was originated by Doug Uyematsu of the Long Beach Casting Club.

FLY SADDLE – Casting a fly rod from the confined space of a kayak takes some getting used to, especially if your kayak is loaded down with equipment and accessories. According to Mike Allen (pictured), turning 90 degrees and sitting side-saddle will take most potential obstacles out of play. The empty kayak seat makes a good striping basket, which is a place to store loose coils of fly line.