By Timothy Kusherets
Posted Thursday, July 28, 2005
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Most Steelheaders run a 14:12 or 10:8 mainline to leader setup when drift-fishing; setting up your mainline and leader strengths backwards is something I call "terminal-polarity" drift-fishing. It’s an especially effective technique that works "best" when the pressures of combat fishing put fish off the bite during the fall and winter runs. Ordinarily the leader is supposed to be weaker than the mainline, by a couple of pounds, so any snags you get hung up on will cost you only the leader; but what if the fish are on the far side of the river and there’s no way to get to them because the casting distance is simply too far? Terminal-polarity drift-fishing is the option you’re looking for; however, the chances of losing more gear than usual but it does work.
"Boy, you’re going to lose all your stuff! I know what you’re thinking about and all you’re going to do is put line in the water and lose it! Don’t do it man! It’s a waste of time to fish like that. Why don’t you just come back in a boat another day? I’m telling you you’re going to regret it!" I had gotten to a familiar river I scout out every year, fishermen had lined the riverbank forcing most all the fish to the far side soon after dawn. After deciding that the best fishing positions involved getting shoulder-to-shoulder with a few guys I began to fish. Now and again I would hear my compatriots lament about the fish they could see off in the distance.
"Dude! Did you see that one? God that was big!"
"Man…would you look at the size of that one?"
"Son of a gun! What was I thinking not taking out the boat?"
After a couple of hours it was clear all the fish had moved out across the river; it was time to go.
I had broken down my gear and was headed back to the car when I stopped and thought about the dilemma. I knew that the line I had was too heavy to get all the way to the other side. I thought about what it would take to get to them. The line-test that it would take to make the cast would have to be incredibly small, but that wasn’t the problem. Casting with light line as far as I needed to cast I new losing it to snags was very real. I would run out of line in no time at all; but the biggest problem was that I didn’t even have the line to begin with so I called it a day. As I got into the front seat I looked over the river and could see the fish. It felt as though every minute between the time I decided to go fishing to the very moment I was looking out over the river had been wasted. It was on my mind as I headed down the highway and pulled into a gas station. After I filled up I went into the store to look at tackle that was sure to be hanging on the back wall. I was browsing when I saw some 6-pound test; it was then that I got an epiphany. I hadn’t traveled too far from the river and home was still two-hours away. I had scheduled the whole day to fish and decided that I would go back and give those fish the what for. In a rush I scooped up every spool of line took them to the counter. I couldn’t get on the road fast enough.
When I arrived back at the river most of the other fishermen had abandoned the prospect of fishing, with the exception of a couple of guys. They had sat down and were both chastising themselves for even making the trip. They had some things to say as I passed on by. They could see my newly bought light tackle.
"What in the heck do you think you’re doing?"
"Boy, you’re going to lose all your stuff! I know what you’re thinking about and all you’re going to do is put line in the water and lose it! Don’t do it man! It’s a waste of time to fish like that. Why don’t you just come back in a boat another day? I’m telling you you’re going to regret it!"
I understood they meant well but the only thing keeping me from the fish on the other side was that kind of thinking. I intended to break from that pattern.
I was done setting up in about 15 minutes. The mainline was 6-pounds while the leaders were 10-pounds. I used a double-swivel snap-setup for the terminal gear with a 2-ounce magnum slinky in the hopes that it would snag less and cast far. I waded out to a boulder and got on it, which gave me a good 2 foot height advantage. With my 10.5 foot rod I drew back and cast out. It looked as though it sailed for about 70 yards. I watched as it arched and just before the terminal gear hit the water I flipped the bail over. The, fishable, slot poured into a pool and the pool into a tailout, where the fish were holding. As it went through the riffles I watched as the line stopped, when the line neither pulled nor strained harder I knew it was a snag. I had to break off. I wrapped the mainline around my left hand and hoped. As I pulled back there was a snap that no fisherman wants to hear. The mainline had broken right at the tip of the rod. Half the spool was gone and to make matters worse the other fishermen had been watching. The rain of insults I received was intense and vulgar but what they didn’t know was I had already accepted the possibility that losing line and setup was going to be part of the program.
I stood there on the boulder and brought out another reel from the back of my vest and retied. Though it was clumsy trying to tie up on a boulder with a rod over 10 feet long I was ready to fish in about 7 minutes.
I cast out again. The leader hit the far side of the seam and headed downriver to the tailout. As the mainline approached the area where I had lost the first setup I flipped the bail open and let the line free-bail past the snag; as it did I flipped the bail closed. The mainline had just passed the snag when it stopped. I waited and then felt the kind of "tick" a small trout might make. I set the hook and a huge bright hen jumped out of the water! It was all over the place! It was the kind of fight that winter fishing could warm frost bitten hands. The steelhead swam towards the riffles that were below the tailout where the water picked up speed! I put the tip of my rod in the water, making sure not to bump any boulders, and flipped the bail for the third time. A belly formed in front of the fish tricking it into thinking that the pull was coming from downriver making her turn around and head back upstream. I was sure that it would work but I had never dreamed that it could happen from so far away! I made sure that she had made substantial progress upriver before I flipped the bail closed and reeled in the slack. By "thumbing" the spool for a few seconds at a time I was able to maintain the full six-pounds of pressure for the entire fight without snapping the line. The tactics worked perfectly. As I was standing on the boulder when I could see her flashing to the side now and again, after about fifteen minutes she was ready to come in. Holding her in the water and looking at the nearly perfect shape of that beautiful chromer I removed the hook from her mouth and put her back. I fished for the remainder of the day. I lost a lot of line, but I also landed a mess of fish, which I was sure to show to the fishermen that had been haranguing me prior to using the polarity tactics. From here out, there’s no such thing as too far where casting is concerned.
This awesome native was hooked from over seventy-yards out.
Reversing the mainline and leader allowed me to cast towards
steelies that had been pressured into moving to the other side
of the river.
Using the Terminal-polarity technique I was able to hook into
this native salmon when other fishermen just weren’t hitting
anything while using six-pound test for the mainline, and ten
pound test for the leader. The method really takes the pressure
off fish, but you have to be sure to play each fish out with the
lighter mainline.
Article courtesy of Timothy Kusherets , Visit Timothy's website at Top Fishing Secrets
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