Matching this snail hatch was not an option. 20 Black Gnat that I cast at Smoky Mountain rainbow trout. No fly on Earth does, except for maybe a No. I feared that these micro-crustaceans were the breakfast entrée, and I sure didn't have a fly in my box that came anywhere close. It looked like salt and coarse-ground black pepper, the pepper being the tiniest of tiny black snails. I figured they were scrounging up nondescript little somethings from the sugar-white sand, so I stooped to sift the stuff through my fingers. 6 and 8 Gotchas and Charlies, Angie and I were suddenly being snubbed by schoolies-something rumored to never happen in the Bahamas-perhaps because the tide was dropping as fast as stock prices in a bear market. Their fluttering, translucent tails and dorsal fins looked like little Saran Wrap jib sails catching a breeze.Īfter a couple of hookups apiece on No. The water was ankle-deep, so the fish swam on a tilt, backs out, tacking right, then tacking left. She was tiptoeing like a heron so as not to put the bones on notice. I doubt there were two blades of grass between me and Angie Chestnut, some 50 yards away.
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