I held the reel in the palm of my hand and attached it to my fly rod that was yearning for use. I had stored the rod, a nine weight St. Croix, carefully in its case last year; it was begging me to attach the reel.

Pflueger has always been my choice for fly fishing reels. The 1598RC is a work horse reel with no frills; it reminds me of my past. Its simple drag system is easy to clean; its exposed face easy to palm for extra drag. The reel is not flashy and makes no claims to impress the abutting flyhead you may encounter.

I smiled at Bill as I threaded the 9wfs line through the rod's eyelets. My leader, a 30lb fluorocarbon, was not tapered. I attached it to the fly line using a nail knot made with a tool purchased from Cabelas. The knot was strong and secure.

As we headed out on the water, I detected a small glean in Bill's eyes. He couldn't help it. He's a dye hard bait fisherman when it comes to fall pike; he knew I wasn't going to catch a thing with my flashy bling studded fly. I begged to differ with him but he wouldn't let me.

We approached the edge of the channel and found a stay; Bill threw the anchor overboard and tied us off. The day was cloudy but the temperature was bearable. We left the top down so I could make a few mistakes on my backcast. Bill grabbed the captain’s chair after he plunked two bait lines over the stern. One line was baited with a dough of Bill's own creation and the other was baited with last year's ocean run smelt. I knew he had the upper hand. Maybe his technique would help me. Scent is always a good way to attract Pike.

I began to cast. The fly's heavy stance and the size of the rod was a toll on me. I finally began to find a rhythm. I needed a fast retrieve to stop the fly from catching bottom. The combination of the fly's weight while being attached to a fast sinking line produced a quick sink rate; a sink rate I was unhappy with. It meant I would have to keep the fly on the move or catch bottom. Twenty, twenty-five, then thirty minutes proceeded with out a hit. Bill's posture had changed. He was up and about. We were both getting itchy and ready to move on!

We eased down stream to a spot where the channel met a small bay. Bill set anchor as I piloted us into position. He then threw his old dough ball overboard and put on a new batch of God knows what! I started to search my boxes for a marshmallow to add to my fly and came up with some Nitro Floating Gems. They would do.

I began to cast. The small piece of Nitro added buoyancy to the heavy fly. This meant I could slow down my presentation. I whipped the water, and then let my fly sink. One, two, three, four, five.....I would count between strips. One, two, three, four, five....Bill looked at me with that glean in his eye.

Fifteen minutes past. Then, I felt a jolt. It was Bill jumping from the helm. His bobber had just sunk out of sight. I watched as Bill patiently let the fish take line. It took the dough ball! Finally, it just blurted out of me "Reel, Bill Reel!" He closed the bail, set the hook and landed a twenty-four inch pike. Not bad for a Dough Boy!

I continued my casting and whipping of the water. I said I wasn't a fly fisherman. I just wanted to catch Pike on a fly rod!

The problem I have with bait fishing is that is just too passive for me. I like to move, cast and do things. But I wasn't catching any fish. I looked at his bucket of dough. And yes, I was tempted to join him. "If you want to bait fish, I've got plenty of dough" Bill smirked. "No thanks" I replied.

I looked down at my fly; I was tempted to cut it off. But it was my creation and I wanted it to work. Then Bill got another hit. As he set the hook the line went limp. I looked at him and laughed. I then saw his pole double over. It was definitely a Pike, and it headed for the deepest part of the channel. He played the fish as I readied the Boga Grip. It flashed as it came to the boat and then it was gone; it was gone to the depths of the channel again.

This time it approached the boat with a surrendering attitude. It thrashed its head as I lounged for it with the Boga. I missed! The Pike made one last ditch effort but came back to the surface quickly. I clipped on the Boga to its lower jaw. Five and half pounds the gauge read. This one was hooked a little deeper and drew blood from my hands as I attempted to unhook it.

I looked at Bill and was going to say.....but he beat me to it! "I'll set the hook quicker" he shouted out before I could begin my scoffing at him. It really pisses me off when fishermen let a fish swallow the bait if they are not planning on keeping the fish.

We resumed our game, but I switch spots with Bill this time. I took the rear and had him cast off the front. "And grab your own @X&# fish this time!" I blasted with a smile. What's a little blood among friends? "Hey, give me a glob of that stuff!" I demanded. I then proceeded to place a piece of dough above the treble of my fly.

I short cast this time, not wanting to knock the bait off my treble on a strong back cast. One, two, three....BANG! "Wow.....Wow.....Oh No" I stated as the fish made a strange circle around the boat. Suddenly, it was taking line off two poles. I looked at Bill and said "Reel or No Reel? That is the question!"

We tried to untangle Bill's line but it was too late. My line was well entangled with his. We just let it go.

Since this was my first time with a Pike on a fly rod, I was surprised at the amount of force I had to palm the reel with to slow the Pike's decent. When I tried to recover line, I couldn't do it fast enough. This fish made several passes as most pike do, but my fumbling with the rod seemed to make every turn an adventure.

As it approached the boat, I noticed it was thinly hooked in the lip, and said a Hail Mary while lunging for its lip. I pinched its lower jaw with my Boga and proceeded to boat the Pike. My first Pike on a fly rod and was I happy! It weighed six and half pounds. I looked at Bill and said "biggest fish today" with a smile that would have embarrassed a Cheshire Cat.

Bill looked at me and smiled back. "I hate to inform you, but half that fish is mine." I looked down to see Bill's hook embedded in the Pike's dorsal fin. "That's illegal Bill....that's illegal! This fish is all mine!" I countered. Bill replied "But Marc, you landed it legally, I'm only claiming my half now that it is on board!"

Bill looked at me and quipped "I just have one question....Reel or No Reel?"

Sometimes, the best of times, are just blurted out of you!

This Fall has been a great season for Pike fishing. The water's slow temperature decline kept Pike interested in stocking up on a few extra pounds of meat. But, the unexpecting Pike has also fallen victim to a fly. A Flashabou fly!

I created the fly on a whim. Not having caught a pike on a fly rod and not being a great fly fisherman seemed to fit. Earlier this year, I had purchased several different colors of Flashabou. I sincerely intended to tie some flies for Salmon fishing on Rangeley. But, I couldn't pull myself away from using sewn on smelt for salmon fishing. And, so the story goes, I was left with an inordinate amount of Flashabou! What to do!?

Having fallen in love with Pike fishing by accident, I decided to up the ante. Last year, I picked up a twelve and a half pound Northern Pike on a large artificial swim bait. This year???Why not a fly! And....a fly of my own creation would add mystique of the occasion.

Knowing that Pike love bling, Flashabou was a nature choice. And I had plenty of it! I tied the fly with a #4 red treble attached to three and a half inch stainless steel leader. Having bought some Real Eyes, I decided to incorporate them into the hatch of the fly.

I ended up with a rather simple looking long streamer. It had brass eyes with Fashabou on top and peacock herl on bottom. The knots were laced with super glue to give them some strength. I was so excited to try it out, I gave Bill a call. He met me at the shuttle lot adjacent to the pike. The turnpike that is!

What follows is one of the strangest stories I have countered yet! So…….see you next time on Reel or No Reel!

Mackworth Island is surrounded by the beauty of Casco Bay. Situated in Falmouth, less than a mile from the B&M plant, it is connected to the mainland by a paved causeway. Mackworth Island is unique in its history of public access, beauty and the beginnings of a strong conservationist. The Island was donated to the State in 1943 and was the childhood home of Governor Percival Baxter. Governor Baxter became an extraordinary conservationist that used his own private funds to build a conservation legacy – Baxter State Park.

Having housed The Baxter School for the Deaf since 1957, Mackworth Island has been open to the public for as long as I can remember. But its past has not been all beauty and calm. Atrocities took place at the school, and the Island has taken on a persona of its own. Good for some and hurtful for others. Many children and adults where physically and mentally abused while attending the Baxter School for the Deaf. It was the desecration of helpless humans which muddied Mackworth Island’s beauty and solitude for me. I now try to look upon the Island as a refuge, a place of healing for the mind, body, and soul. I believe Governor Percival would be comfortable with that view if he were here today. I only hope that the wrongs of the past can be healed in the minds of those involved.

Why am I mentioning Mackworth Island in a fishing blog? I mention it because fishing has always been a place of refuge for me. Fishing has been my place to contemplate, appreciate and give thanks. Mackworth Island’s beautiful shores, overlooking Casco Bay, make it a great place to do just that. A spot were you can bring your dog and relax on the rocks as you bait fish for Stripers or Blues. Bring a book, set on a rock and watch your pole while taking in the views of the bay.

I was able to make a brief stop at Mackworth Island on my way to Yarmouth last week. The island’s charm has not changed since my younger days. A one and a half mile walking path surrounds the circumference of the island which is studded with rocky overviews where one can take a break and enjoy the sights. The island can also be looked at as a memorial to Governor Baxter’s closest friends, his dogs. The island is covered with their eternal resting spots.

If you’re looking for a fishing spot with a multitude of uses and views, Mackworth Island is a spot that fits the bill. I like to begin my journey by crossing the road opposite the parking lot and walking the island in a clockwise direction. It enables me to settle down and relax quickly. If you begin the walk from the parking lot, and walk in a counter-clockwise direction, you will walk the borders of the Baxter School for the Deft first. I enjoy beginning my walk in the woods that the clockwise direction provides. I find myself unwinding faster and feeling the island’s undeveloped character.

There are ample spots to fish as the path starts to hug the rocky shore. Grab a spot, dip a line, ant take in the sights. Governor Baxter would be proud. Imagine that….a little bit of his legacy right here in the city!

Mackworth Island is also a spot that will kinder special memories if given the chance. Memories like the ones I have. Memories of being so relaxed while reading and fishing that I had to chase my fishing pole half way down the rocks after a fish hit. Memories of walking my dog during the brilliant days of Fall or memories of scraping mud off my shoes after a Spring walk A muddied walk that was one of my last walks with my good friend and childhood dog Bridge.

Mackworth Island holds a special place in my heart. Hopefully, when you find the courage to have nothing to do, and you can start creating the memories that will fondly become your past. Memories etched so vividly they will never be forgotten. I hope your memories will be as good as mine. If they are not, take a walk with a good friend to help begin the healing process, whatever that may be.

Mackworth Island…..a place of refuge.....a place for healing, Mackworth Island….not for the faint of heart!

My first annual clamming seminar was a success with five hardy individuals learning, laughing and hitting pay dirt. With all the scratching, tapping and probing, we had those clams jumping out of the flats and into our buckets.

I want to thank all for attending. I truly enjoy the outdoors and teaching people that clamming is not just an act; it is a state of mind. Last month, a good friend of mine was having a hard time finding clams and filling her bucket. I said “Diane! You just have to slow down, take in the sights, and enjoy the fresh air." Sure enough, she filled her bucket and out did me.

Like any other outdoor activity, clamming is more about the environment that surrounds you. Smell the air, watch the moon rise, feel the sand slipping through your fingers.

So thanks again you hardy clammers. And, the next time someone says something distasteful to you, tell them to "Clam Up!"

I have a good one for you.

I was doing a presentation at Hamlin's Marine when one of the fisherman showed some video of a friend trying to land a good sized Thresher. The fight had been on for well over an hour. When the Thresher hit, it was late afternoon. The guys were already tired from landing four other sharks that day. As the fight ensued, Joe was getting fatigued. He was wearing a harness that held the pole to his body.

As the video ran, you could see the Joe rocking back and forth as he tried to reel in line. Then, the Thresher would make a run, and Joe would loose all the line that had been so hard to gain. So....he tightened the drag. Mind you he was wearing a harness, but he was not tethered to the boat. The shark made a short flip of its long tail. Joe was yanked right over the side of the boat. You could barely see what was happening as the camera operator dropped the camera. I believe the camera operator was attempting to rescue Joe who was tied to the pole.

Get this. Man in water. Rod clipped to man. Lined hooked to a Thresher. Not a good thing!

The next thing you see on the video is a completely soaked fisherman assuming the cranking position he had been in before. His stance was a little lower now. Then, the person showing the video told us to take a closer look. He said "see those sunglasses Joe is wearing, they had lenses in them before he hit the water." Sure enough, the fisherman had hit the water with such force that it had popped the lenses right out of the frame.

These guys were quick and lucky. Morale of the story? If you are tide to a shark via a pole which is tied to you, make sure you are tied to the boat.

Clamming Seminar Equals Clams for Bait and Clams For Eats

I will be conducting a Surf Clamming Seminar on Saturday, November 4th, at 2:15. As of this morning, the fishery was open to the harvest surf clams in Saco Bay. We will be meeting at the "Bay View" Parking Lot in Saco, Maine. A Google map is posted at the end of this article.

I will review techniques and gear as well how to dig for them. Whether people are able to harvest clams is always dependent on the Department of Marine Resources. The Department monitors water quality to determine if the flats should be closed due to flooding or red tide. That is why it is always important to call the Shell Fish Closure Hotline (1-800-232-4733) to determine if the flats are open. Or check the Shell Fish Hot Line Web Site. This is really important stuff, because as noted in a previous post, the flats are often closed due to Red Tide and pollution!

Here is some of the gear you should use when harvesting surf clams.
First, I always recommend a good pair of boots. They can range from my wife’s pink pair

To hip waders

To chest waders

Some fishermen go into the surf to harvest, but I harvest mine from the beach, so I usually use hip waders.

Gloves are good too! They should be waterproof, this way you can pick up clams and place them in your bucket without getting your hands wet.

Another item you will need is a good fork. I’ve seen people use large forks and small forks.

I lean toward the middle of thge road and use a long handled six pronged fork.

You should also bring a bucket to load your clams into. I’ve used a plastic bag at times, but they can rip open. Large onions bags also work well, but you usually have buy large bags, fifty plus pounds, to get them. If you know a professional chef, he/she may be able to help you obtain one.

Other items to consider are types of clothing (i.e. hats, pants, coats). If the weather is cold and windy, you will want to bundle up. But it you live in Maine, you already know that.

See you there. I'll be driving a black GMC crew cab truck and will meet you at Bay View Parking Lot at the intersection of the Bay View Road. See you at 2:15.