For a sport so consistently full of inconsistencies, it’s a wonder why steelheaders put so much emphasis on the perfectly sculpted Spey cast. With a variety that could rival a box of chocolates, each angler not only fishes differently but casts with their own unique flavor.
There are anglers more concerned with their cast than their hookup ratio, and those simply hoping to land their fly in the water. Then there are the rare few who excel at both casting and fishing, and the anglers who are just happy to sneak a moment out of the house!
I remember the days when I was insecure about my casting. Frustrated by a collapsed loop or a tailed sink tip, I would mutter profanities, strip in my running line, and recast it “properly.” It wasn’t until I began to appreciate my accumulated experience as an angler — rather than just a caster — that I stopped caring about the aesthetics of my yellow floating line. I let even the poorest casts fish themselves out, and naturally, my catch rate skyrocketed. After all, how is a fly supposed to catch a fish if it’s not in the water?
I’m fortunate to spend a great deal of time with other anglers. As a guide, it was my job to observe and recognize fishing patterns while spending time with my guests. But the truth is that only about fifty percent of them were competent Spey casters. Regardless, the poor casters often caught just as many fish as the excellent ones — sometimes even more! It’s baffling.
I can only attribute their success to physics. A collapsed cast often lands in a pile, giving it the ability to sink deeper than if it were cast on a taut line. This can be beneficial when steelheading. In the single-hand world, we use a cast called a ‘pile cast,’ where the line is deliberately crumbled atop the water to allow for a dead drift. While this may be considered an error in Spey casting, it’s an error that can come with a pretty awesome reward.
It would be irresponsible of me to say that learning how to cast is unimportant. A knowledgeable Spey caster is far more comfortable in tricky scenarios with pesky wind, heavy flies, overhanging trees, and riverbank obstructions. However, it’s undeniable that even bad casts can catch good fish. Often, the best casters are eager to wet a long line, so they wade out to the middle of the river and cast as far as they can. This can lead to them either stepping on fish close to shore or casting over the lies where the fish are holding. Angling downstream, they often swing their fly too far, too fast, and too unfocused to demand any attention from migrating steelhead. These are my favorite anglers to fish behind. They are beautiful to watch, perfect for learning casting tips, and incredibly courteous by leaving plenty of untouched steelhead for those of us who can’t (or don’t) cast as far.
Then there are the anglers who don’t even pretend to know how to execute a left-hand-up Snake Roll at 100 feet. More concerned with how their fly looks once it’s in the water, these anglers have put in the time to understand water hydraulics, fish behavior, and maximum efficiency. Naturally, some possess all of these great qualities, but that comes with time, experience, dedication, and a touch of natural talent.
It’s also worth mentioning that certain conditions can push fish close to shore. Colored water and poor visibility often drive both migrating and holding fish closer to the riverbank. I’ve witnessed countless occasions where an angler casts no farther than fifteen feet yet ends up being the top rod of the day.
Granted, there’s always a way to take things too far, so while I’m certainly not suggesting that anglers dump copious amounts of line into holding pools (resulting in a flossed or snagged fish), I’m very much encouraging all anglers to let a messy cast fish itself out. The river’s hydraulics and undercurrents change constantly, thus manipulating the fly differently every time. Perhaps that one bad cast will align perfectly with the current, enticing a nearby fish to take the fly.
Fish can’t see what happens above the water, but they’re certainly interested in what’s going on beneath it. So before stripping in your next faulty cast, remember: even bad casts catch truly awesome fish.
If you would like to learn how to improve your cast, be sure to sign up for my FREE mini-course by becoming an Anchored Insider here.
