Guide to Fly Fishing for Carp
Casting a fly for carp is like dragging a piece of fried chicken through the local seniors' center. If it looks good and moves slowly enough, something will eventually try to gum it to death. Oddly enough, fly fishing for the toothless common carp is hot, a long-simmering trend that's grown dramatically over the past three years.
Carp are wary and smart and frequently hit 20 to 30 pounds. They sometimes feed in clear, shallow water, where they can be seduced with flies similar to those used for trout. There are now carp-on-the-fly fans from Washington state east to New York and Massachusetts, as well as in Europe. Books and videos on the subject are starting to appear. The staid International Game Fish Association now keeps fly-rod carp records. This is the next big deal.
Sure, you might tease one up now and then, but your chances of spooking the fish (even suspended fish) are far greater than hooking up unless that fish is already committed to eating on top. And we all know a spooked carp is not only a lame target, it will put down an entire school around it. The rises are often mere dimples and depressions on the surface and hard to spot. But they happen more often than you think.
Just as with trout, carp like to feed where the food collects. Those bubble lines and hard seams are food magnets. Watch EVERY seam you see carp under for five minutes, or until you see them eat (staying low, in the shadows, and out of the carp's view). If all the ingredients are there––a seam, food, and at least one fish in the zone––I'll sometimes wait 20 minutes or more to see if something happens before moving on. But I won't cast until something does happen.
Carp are extremely sensitive to noise and vibrations, and you cannot help but cause those things when you get in the water, so cast from the bank if you can. I also like the angle from the shore better. Even if you make a great cast straight upstream, the leader and such floating down on a fish are often problematic.
The ideal cast is one that lands only a few feet upstream from the target (softly) and only the fly drifts into the feeding zone. The best way to pull that off is with a 45-degree angle shot, either from downstream or upstream (but it rarely works from upstream if you are standing in the water).
In other words, use the reach cast, where you sweep the rod tip upstream (or up-current/upwind if you are fishing a lake or pond) right as the fly line extends at the end of your cast, and before your bug hits the water surface. Sloppy, splashy mends on the water, even if you do them in the perfect trout style, are often deal killers.
I know that's harder to turn over and cast straight, but it's worth working on, no matter what species you chase. In fact, if you get so you can do all these things, your trout dry-fly skills will increase exponentially. Even more reason, in my mind, why that old carp cruising around in the pond or river near you right now is worth paying attention to. —K.D.
Early mulberry imitations were mostly made of spun deer hair, but with the rise in carp fly fishing popularity, creative tiers have concocted fresh berries out of modern materials like foam and epoxy. Some of these flies—like Pennsylvania carp guide Nick Raftas’s Berry-U-Sucka—are so realistic, you might mistakenly drop a handful on your Wheaties.
That level of realism serves a purpose. When mulberries are falling hard and working carp into a frenzy, any pattern that loosely matches them in size and shape—even a pink salmon egg—usually gets eaten. When only a berry or two is dropping here or there, carp may take more time to study the fly, in which case, closely matching each juicy dimple matters. But according to Raftas, the first criterion to consider when choosing a mulberry is audible appeal, not looks.
Wait for a Breeze Before You Cast
Carp may plod along very slowly, but these big-shouldered fish have serious speed and power once you swing that fly rod and set that hook. And they fight dirty. These four tricks will improve your chances of getting a bruiser suckermouth into the landing net.
Since carp eat small flies and can be very line shy, light tippets are generally required for scoring a take. When you first set the hook, the fish will often not move, which is like pulling against a cinder block, or it will take off like a jet fighter the second it feels the sting. In either case, if you swing with all your might, you’re going to break the tippet. A gentle lift is all it takes to plant the hook in that gummy mouth.
If there is any structure in close proximity, count on the carp to run right for the nastiest option. They’ll do their best to wrap and snap the leader. The trick is to keep their heads up. A high rod angle will make it harder for a carp to dive or slide under structure.
A carp’s first run is typically the most powerful. If you survive it, you’ve greatly increased your odds of landing the fish. However, that doesn’t mean you should take it easy if the fish acts like a dead weight. Keep the pressure on, because it doesn’t take much slack to allow a tiny hook barely in the skin of a carp’s mouth to fall out.
Many carp are lost right at the net. That's because the angler assumes the fish's energy is sapped, but when the net splashes, the fish suddenly wakes up and thrashes or runs. When the battle is coming to an end, I'll lay the net hoop in the water at my feet, gently steer the fish over the top of the bag, and raise the net in one quick swoop. —J.C.
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