Interested in getting into the salt but don't know where to start?

Join me on Friday night (April 4th) and the following day for a crash course on beach fishing.

Equipment?

Check.

Species?

Check.

Where to find the fish?

Check.

We'll talk about this and more.

Give Puget Sound Fly Co. at 253-839-4119 to sign up and hear about future beach class dates.

Where: Hood Canal
When: Saturday
Conditions: Sunny, warm, fairly calm
Flies used: Cutthroat spey, chum baby, Clouser, bunny muddler
Species pursued: Sea-run cutthroat

Song of the day: "On Earth As It Is In Heaven," Ennio Morricone

"I'm getting the itch to fish and it says tomorrow's going to be nice, so give me a call and let me know if you plan on fishing and where."

I hung up and dialed Bill's number.

"I'll see you there at 8:30."

After hanging up with him, I dialed another friend.

"Okay, I'll see you at the house at 7:30."

The three of us were going Easter cuttie hunting.

The first stop, though, got us thinking about something other than fishing.

"I'm up for that--might as well make the best of a day like this."

And after a dash to the store (for some special equipment) and determining a suitable location, we had gotten entirely off track.

Can you blame us?

After all, there were ACRES of these things!

Good thing we bought that "special equipment" on the way over. ;) Photo: Don

Luckily, you can only eat so many oysters before you explode. Rather than get to that point, we thought it best to re-focus our efforts on the original goal.

Cutthroat.

You see, about this time of year, sea-runs gorge themselves on the outgoing chum fry making their way to the Pacific.

In many ways, cutties during this period are like trout during a thick hatch.

That is to say, stupid.

And reckless.

Kind of like three guys in waders walking 1/4 of a mile through sticky mud, another 1/4 of a mile on razor-sharp oysters just to eat the ones closest to the water.

Anyway...

It was off to yet another beach--it seems as if this driving around thing is becoming thematic lately, no?

And what a beautiful beach it was.

Not long after getting there, a guy walked up.

"Going for the sea-runs, huh?"

"Yup."

"Well, they're here. A school was jumping right in front of where you're standing about 1/2 an hour ago."

"Really?"

"Yeah, right when I got here, about 5 or 6 of them, pretty clos--"

"You mean like this one?" I asked, setting the hook.

He laughed.

"Yeah, like that one."

That put the icing on it. I mean, it's March for pete's sake. And from what I remember in past years, this month's usually soggy, windy, cold or any combination of the three. Just look at Sunday's weather.

Fortunately, this March's lion tossed us a day of lamb.

Where: Puget Sound
When: Saturday
Conditions: Mostly cloudy, windy in places
Flies used: Various clousers, chum baby, Knudsen spider, reduced polar shrimp
Species pursued: Sea-run cutthroat and resident coho

Song of the day: "The Sidewinder Sleeps Tonight," R.E.M

Another day of beach-hopping.

The class convened at the prescribed time, stripping baskets and rods ready.

Seven guys with the entire beach to themselves.

As I went through line handling, reading water and presentation, I noticed their eyes drifting to the water behind me.

"There's another one!"

Jumpers.

"Do you guys just want to fish?"

Their answers contradicted their body language.

"No, no, keep going."

"No, let's go over the rest."

"Uh...no, keep going."

Uh huh. I continued.

Seconds later, they did it again. I couldn't blame them, though--would you be able to listen to some guy gabbing away if you saw fish jumping?

"All right, let's go. Spread out and work downtide."

For a while, things went well. There wasn't any wind and fish were surfacing in good frequency. As the tide receded, I kept hoping that the next jump would be closer.

The fish thought differently.

It didn't matter how much beach we gained, they stayed well out of range, in the order of about 200 feet away.

Rather than waste more effort, I decided to switch up to cutties.

We agreed to work one beach and then possibly head to another one.

That plan went out the window as soon as I saw the spit. I can remember on one hand how many times it looked that good.

Not a lick of wind, good room to cast and obvious current, not to mention the fact that I caught a good number of cutthroat there last time, made the decision all too easy.

On top of all that, we would be fishing under a blue sky.

"Consider this a lucky day, guys. This beach is almost never like this."

Eagerly, they fanned out, reading the water and stripping flies through rips.

You'd never guess that the majority of this group was first timers.

Every now and then, a cuttie would jump just within reach as if to encourage them.

A few were rewarded for their endeavors, getting a grab or two.

I even got one.

Though March is notorious for being tough in the salt, I don't think it mattered to them.

After all, how tough can it be when the sun's shining, the wind's down and the fish are jumping? ;)

Bummed that the rivers are closed? Can't wait for the lakes to open? Might as well kill some time in the salt. :)

If you want to broaden your horizons to fill the void known as March, join me on Friday the 14th for a quick rundown on fishing the local beaches.

We'll cover all the basics and even take you fishing!

Interested? Call Puget Sound Fly Co. at 253-839-4119.

Hope to see some of you there!

Where: Puget Sound
When: Saturday
Conditions: Mostly cloudy, windy in places
Flies used: Various clousers, chum baby, Knudsen spider, reduced polar shrimp
Species pursued: Sea-run cutthroat and resident coho

Song of the day: "I've Been Everywhere," Johnny Cash

Things started well enough--light wind, good rips and plenty of beach.

But looks can be deceiving and as the class spread out I caught sight of the blustery clouds headed our way.

I made my way around to each angler.

"One hour. If things don't get better, we're moving."

It took less than that for the clouds and the wind they rode on to overtake us.

"So what'll it be guys? Point A or point B?"

They voted for B and we headed out.

Their judgment seemed sound upon arrival--no wind, good surface current and a few fishy looking rips.

"Work down the beach to the right, guys," I said, pointing to some pilings.

"Anything, Tom?"

He shook his head.

"Not even a bump."

I moved on to other class members.

Nothing here, either.

And then, a glimmer of hope.

Rich and I found a patch of water with good movement and we worked it thoroughly.

As I reached the edge of the rip, I heard a shout. Rich had hooked up.

Unfortunately, the fish popped off, but not before the others noticed.

As the tide neared slack, we worked feverishly to drum up another bite.

But to no avail.

Forming a huddle on the beach we faced three undeniable truths: No fish, dead water and about half a day left of fishing.

Fighting back my frustration with the less than ideal fishing, I suggested a lunch break. It was an opportunity to regroup and enjoy an otherwise beautiful day.

"So...what do you guys think? Want to try point A?"

Surprisingly, they nodded with enthusiasm and again, we were off.

I don't usually take classes beach-hopping but today was clearly an exception. I was determined to get these guys into more fish.

This time it worked out.

This time, bumps were felt.

This time, fish were landed. :)

By then, it was time to wrap things up.

We all shook hands, bid each other a safe drive and went our separate ways.

But Tom, who had ridden with me, was itching for a little more time on the water. I wasn't about to turn down more fishing so we checked a few more spots out and ran into a pair of familiar faces.

Steve and Paul's fishing report knocked the remaining bits of frustration away as they, too, reported a slow day.

"I'm glad it wasn't just us," Tom said.

So was I.

Where: Puget Sound
When: Sunday
Conditions: Sunny, slightly windy
Flies used: Various clousers, Ferguson Green and Silver, chum baby
Species pursued: Sea-run cutthroat and resident coho

Song of the day: "The Seeker," The Who

"I'll be 43 tomorrow."

"Really? Where did the time go?"

Albeit cliche, the question had a very real meaning to us.

"Well, happy birthday, man."

I had forgotten all about it.

Nearly six years ago, I remember hopping in the Ford and driving down to what was to become our favorite beach.

It was quite an adventure for the two of us--Jamie hadn't really fished for sea-runs before and I couldn't cast to save my life. Fortunately, the fish didn't hold it against us. :)

From time to time, a good day of fishing goes beyond hook sets, hero shots and bumper sticker wit.

This particular day turned into several years' worth of good fishing with a good friend.

Days like this. Sun, light wind and hungry fish! The birthday boy, late winter, 2004.

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After reflecting, I found it fitting that we were once again in search of cutthroat.

Ironically, we had to work harder for them than we did years back.

Not that it deterred us.

Here's to more years of searching for good fishing. :)