Fly Fishing for Stripers: Tips from the Montauk Masters – On The Water

The fall run in Montauk is one of legend. It’s on the bucket lists of anglers around the world and has etched memories of a lifetime for those who have experienced it. Acres of blitzing stripers popping up here, there, and everywhere alongside false albacore, whipping the water to a froth as they decimate schools of bay anchovies. It spikes one’s adrenaline before a line is even cast.

It’s how that line is cast that makes for two completely different experiences. To date, the dozens and dozens of stripers and albies I’ve caught while running and gunning has been on a light spinning setup deploying Deadly Dicks and epoxy jigs of all colors and sizes. It’s hard to think that something could top a screaming drag and bent-over rod under a brilliant blue fall sky. However, ask a fly caster or guide fishing those same waters and blitzes, and they will swear there is.

Proof that it never gets old exhibited by Paul Dixon after an epic bite in glass water.

Trying to throw a fly is a humbling experience for beginners. Fighting muscle memory and being in contact with the line throughout the cast aren’t easy hurdles to overcome. I’ve been lucky to meet and become friends with many fishermen over the years, and a few prominent guides and fly guys have taken me under their wing.

The guide/angler relationship is very similar to a caddy and golfer. The scorecard may say 150 yards to the green and have you reaching for a 7 iron, yet the caddy hands you a 9 iron. He knows the pitch at the end of the fairway, and that the green doesn’t look downhill but is. Go ahead and hit what you want, but the club you’ll be reaching for on the next shot is a sand wedge to get out of a brutal bunker at the back of the green.

Let me introduce you to a few of these anglers who pioneered this disruption of sorts in the fishing world and a few that have taken the ball and are running with it.

John Abplanalp

“Draw on past experience”

John learned to fly fish in the late 1960s after taking his first casts in freshwater streams and lakes on a preserve his family owned some 200 miles northwest of Montauk. It was vastly different from the offshore fishing in the Florida Keys he enjoyed with friends. As thrilling as chasing marlin and other pelagics was, the inshore flats of the Keys became his passion. Some 20 years after casting his first fly for pike and trout, spotting stripers on the flats of Gardiner’s Bay on a flight to Montauk changed everything with his fishing.

More of a pioneer than a guide, John and friends stalked spring bass cruising the flats, going through trial and error with the flies they used to entice a striper to bite. He saw the similarity between trout and striped bass being opportunistic feeders, which translated to a wide array of flies that could “match the hatch.” The most effective was a crab fly thrown using floating line. Not being able to cover enough water when wading, he became one of the first anglers to begin poling a flats boat in the shallow waters of Montauk’s north side. However, there were more bass, and bigger ones, in waters that wouldn’t mix well with the bow of a flats boat.

John Abplanalp was one of the first anglers to use a flats skiff to fly fish for stripers in the shallow waters of Montauk’s north side.

In 1994, he heard about a skiff for sale that had a bow rail. This feature would expand the waters he and his friends could target on the south side of the lighthouse. The seller was Paul Dixon. There was more talk of fly-fishing strategy than there was negotiating, such as the art of casting, the grind of practicing that art on grassy fields when not on the water, the crucial observance of what bait species were being fed on by stripers. As John and Paul’s friendship started, so did the rise of saltwater fly fishing in Montauk.

Paul Dixon

“Practice”

Considered one of the Montauk OGs, Paul has been fishing since the late 1980s, applying techniques used when fishing the flats of the Florida Keys. Both John and Paul began fishing the flats around Montauk, Orient Point, and Fisher’s Island. Flats fishing remains possible in the fall, but is most productive in the spring when clear days and brilliant sunshine expose bass working the shallows in gin-clear water. Spring or fall, they found that the most effective fly was a Clouser Minnow mimicking a shrimp or crab profile.

Once fall rolled around and the blitzes began, the most effective flies got smaller to match the hatch of anchovies, spearing, or whatever else was present. Today, Paul doesn’t leave the dock without several options—from his line selection to fly selection. Spending just about every fishable day on the water from late April through November, it’s what he’s seeing that dictates his strategy for a trip.

Top guides and captains always come prepared for changes in weather and bait patterns. Sporty conditions like this often end up being some of the fishiest days.

The monster he helped create often rears its head as the first word of blitzing fish makes the rounds. On a brilliant fall day with plenty of bait, bass, and albies, you’ll lose count of how many boats are running and gunning around the point. That’s when Paul likes to find his own fish and not follow the crowd. One aspect of Montauk that makes it an angler’s paradise is its structure. Boulder fields, peninsulas, and coves rarely fall into a black-and-white explanation for how water moves on the flood or ebb tide. Baits get pinned in areas and boulders block the fiercest flow of a moon tide, giving shelter to stacked-up stripers waiting to ambush passing prey. Paul’s ability to set up a drift that could be a half mile long just to get a few casts for a minute or two of that drift has been a huge part of his success.

While Dixon is prepared for all scenarios, the ones with a novice at the bow include a fly rod with floating line on it. He doesn’t rely on his fishfinder very much because once you’re marking fish, you’re past them, or they’ll have moved by the time you circle back. In the 20- to 30-foot depths he often fishes, it’s very common for bass to be feeding in the top third of the water column.

Someone who has been putting in the time on the beach or a grassy field, not just casting but working on line management (which Dixon says is the most important thing), will have the greatest shot at success when presented with an opportunity off Montauk. The best anglers never lose contact with the line and never have to grab at it.

Showing up after practicing casting and being ready to trust the voice behind you while on the bow is what makes for an epic catch. As Dixon says, “If you get invited to play Augusta, wouldn’t you be hitting buckets of balls as much as you can before the actual tee time?”

As much as the practice and eventual proficiency is vital, you still have to listen to the guy at the wheel. Bass attack a fly in certain ways, and Paul’s decades of learning that behavior is evident in the directions he barks to the bow.

“I’ve learned more about how to feed fish from sight-fishing than anything else, and it all applies to big fish.”

Tim O’Rourke

“Master the mindset”

Captain Tim O’Rourke, like John Abplanalp, had his first experience in fly fishing in fresh water, upstate near Syracuse. He’s mastered not just the technique of fly casting but also the waters around Montauk, though he’s still learning. O’Rourke views fly fishing as a sport and says, “Never stop learning or getting better, like any other sport.”

Likening the stance and motion of a cast to that of a lacrosse player, it’s a visual that’s one of his most important tools with a novice on the bow. Out on Montauk’s waters, there’s a peace that embraces you if you let it. Taking a breath and clearing your head is what Captain Tim says is one of his most effective tools for beginner fly-fishers looking for the first step in getting on a fish.

Once a newbie is in the right frame of mind, things always fall into place with O’Rourke’s deep, soft, gravelly voice directing casts from 9 o’clock to 3 o’clock, with the bow being 12 o’clock. For a setup, he believes a rod like a Sage Maverick is one of the easier rods for newcomers, but the line he uses reinforces to a beginner—through a visual—that drives the idea home. An intermediate line is his go-to as he feels it helps develop and improve casting. Using Rio Stealth Flat Pro, the colored line segments are quite effective in seeing how much line is out in order to start a cast and gives instant feedback on how far a cast has gone.

When Tim O’Rourke is teaching a beginner how to achieve the proper mindset for fly casting, he recommends a deep breath, an athletic stance, and visualizing the cast.

It does take more than breathing exercises, though, to get those casts into waters with stripers. When asking Tim what he’s looking for in deciding on a spot to fish, he compared scouting fly-fishing grounds to the same scouting a surfcaster does: water movement and the structure that’s responsible for it. The hard structures all around Montauk are a constant versus the moving sands of the open beaches. Just as I carry a tackle bag with a dozen offerings for different bait profiles and conditions while surfcasting, so does Captain Tim.

Many of the flies he ties himself, and the essential fly for him is a Clouser. Armed with different sizes and color schemes, he says it’s the most effective fly anyone, including beginners can use. “You’ll catch more bass on a Clouser Minnow than any other fly. It’s the bucktail of flies.”

Craig Cantelmo

“Slow down”

The oversized smile and boisterous voice of Craig Cantelmo is hard to miss. Mainly known for his role as the face of Van Staal, he’s also one of the top fly anglers and guides around.

As serious as he is about the brand that’s the standard for surfcasting, so too is he about fly fishing, fly tying, and growing the pursuit and passion in beginners. It’s not a fishing method you can just show up for, and he calls it a disservice to the angler himself not to have put the time in to be able to throw a 40-foot cast. He points to warm summer days as a perfect opportunity to walk the beach and practice casting.

Sight-fishing the flats of Montauk and surrounding gin-clear waters by fly rivals just about any fishery up and down the East Coast and beyond.

Crucial elements of the cast for him include starting with the rod tip low and not parallel to the water. While he points out the double haul as a vital skill to develop, it’s also the water haul that’s necessary in the process of learning the art. This is when a cast starts with the fly in the water, which forces the cast to start with the rod tip low. The pressure of the water on the fly activates the rod and gives that instant feedback of feeling the rod loading.

The biggest fault Craig finds in those new to the sport is their speed, not the lack of it. Whether it’s in the casting motion itself or once landed, a fly is often stripped entirely too fast. He points out that when working a blitz of feeding fish, ripping a fly through them is a fool’s errand. There’s only about 30 to 40 feet you’ll have to work, and ripping the fly through that zone in short time will never allow you to land a fish with anything more than dumb luck.

The slow and calm motion, connecting with the feel of the rod, is what gets new fly casters to progress. Floating line is Craig’s first choice in the fall as most takes are near the surface, though conditions and ability often call for intermediate line. He pointed out to me that once you have some proficiency in casting, rarely does the angler have the same proficiency in strip striking. A common beginner’s mistake is to raise the rod high in the split second after a bite. What should be happening is to point the rod at the fish and make a sharp tug of the line in your stripping hand. Once the line has cleared the deck and any other obstacles, you can slowly raise the rod. If everything goes right and the fish gods decide to smile on you, you’ll land it and many more.