The Nugget Newspaper - News and Opinion from Sisters, Oregon

We could see the fish through the grass and bushes. He was right in front of us - so close his spots and fins and even the pupils of his eyes were plainly visible. Every so often he would move up and slide out of sight behind a grass clump, but in a couple minutes he would come back to his station opposite us.

His food was drifting on the slow backwaters of the eddy. We could pick out the individual caddis and small yellow mayflies that were trapped there. We watched as they came into the fish's range.

He moved in a leisurely manner to intercept, tipped gently up, sipped them down and slipped quietly back to his station a few inches under the surface.

There were trees overhead and brush all around. There was no room for any kind of conventional cast.

"How am I supposed to cast in there?" my client asked.

"You're going to have to dap fish it," I answered.

Dapping uses the rod as nothing more than a cane pole to place the fly on the proper current. You fish with nothing but leader, or, at most, a few inches of fly line out through the top guide.

The challenge is figuring out how to weave the rod and line through the surrounding brush. It is a slow, deliberate approach that involves careful stalking and quiet placement of the fly.

It reminds me of when I was a young boy and we used to drop live hoppers and worms into the placid pools of Hop Brook.

To be a good dap fishermen you must move quietly and hone your powers of observation. You should spend as much time spotting fish and their probable lies as you do actually fishing. In very tight situations, it may take several minutes to patiently work the fly around the overhanging tree limbs.

Wind gusts often lift and swing the fly as you move it into position. This can be used to your advantage. By waiting for a gentle breeze to lift the fly out you can place it exactly on the water by nothing more than the swing of leader.

Though you must be patient, the rewards of dap fishing are enormous. Seeing the fish so close up, being able to watch the fly on the water, and seeing the approach of the fish are all very exciting. Even the fish that are not hooked and landed - the ones that approach and tease, or the ones that take the fly but are missed on the hook set - will leave an indelible impression.

The other day we found a very nice fish, an 18- or 19- inch rainbow, under a tree, working an eddy pocket. We drifted a fly to him using the dap method. It was very slow and tedious. The fly seemed to be suspended forever as it drifted toward the fish.

We saw the change in body posture when the trout first spotted the fly, but he did not move toward the fly immediately. Finally, when it was right above him he turned gently up and sipped it down.

The wait proved too much for my client. He overreacted. He set with a rip-roaring strike worthy of a trophy bass. He broke the trout off right on contact, but it really didn't matter; he was still completely thrilled by the whole affair.

"Did you see that," he stammered. "That's the most exciting fish I've ever hooked."