Saltwater flies: three days around Cap d'Agde
Phone call to Matthieu: "Fancy going to cast a few flies along the coast?"
The guiding season on first-category rivers is over, and he is keen. So here we are, heading off for three days around Agde with our fly rods and a whole new world to discover. As trout river regulars, we are complete beginners when it comes to saltwater fly fishing.
The estuary
First spot: the estuary of the Canal du Clot de Malhet. The tramontane wind and 50 km/h gusts greet us and make casting tricky. We have to keep the wind at our backs and use its push to send out our streamers. Our fly selection is fairly basic: a few Deceivers, Clouser Minnows in different colors, a few Crazy Charlies (weighted shrimp imitations, designed to fish close to the bottom), two or three floating flies (Foam Skater style), and of course sandeel patterns, Surf Candy style!
The recent flooding in the Hérault has colored the water. We put our faith in flashy patterns to stand out against the chocolate-colored flow. Casts follow one after another. Night is already closing in around us, and we have not had a single take.
Fly fishing at the foot of the Agde cliffs
We change strategy on the morning of the second day. We head for the clear water below the Agde cliffs. Light and landscape that feel like the beginning of the world. We climb onto the rocky blocks to punch through the wind.
I try different retrieves and strips, focusing on the Roly Poly - I had understood that European seabass respond well to fast retrieves.
My foot slips on a slick rock and I end up with a soaked foot. I take the opportunity to gauge the water temperature. It is still very warm. Too warm? Given the lack of activity, we start to wonder. We talk to local anglers; they all agree: conditions are difficult and the fish have been sluggish for several weeks. Enough to put our inconclusive first attempts into perspective...
My new setup
The 9 ft Guideline LPX for an #8 fly line, paired with the Aura reel and a Coastal intermediate line, makes for a well-balanced outfit. Despite the gusts, I enjoy the casting. Among the rocks, my Sondergaard Coastal stripping basket keeps the line from tangling and snagging.
Meeting garfish on the Cap jetty
We move to another area, choosing the Cap jetty, and try different smaller streamers. Matthieu spots a nice garfish. The fish, incredibly aggressive, follows the sandeel pattern. It is hooked. And soon comes off... Matthieu then switches to a bit of sight fishing (a throwback to river fishing!) and works his way along the jetty. A second garfish is spotted, hooked, and comes off in the same way. Not so easy to set the hook on a fish with a needle-like beak!
Sight fishing for mullet at the harbor mouth
Third day, we head to the harbor mouth for sight fishing for mullet. We put away the streamers in favor of small, discreet flies: scuds (intended to imitate tiny shrimps), small nymphs, and bread imitation flies. To say mullet are wary is an understatement. They are downright paranoid, and the rare takes are nothing more than the lightest nips! You have to fish fine and quite far from the edge. Even so, around ten mullet fall for our bread imitation. Enough to lift our spirits a little. I try a dry-dropper rig with two "bread" flies: one floating, the other submerged. A small seabream responds well!
A seabass in the wake
But it is another fish, inside the harbor, that will leave us with the sharpest memory. Matthieu, having spotted a few garfish cruising around, ties a Surf Candy to his tippet. He casts several times and loses another garfish. On the next cast, the perch-like shadow of a good seabass appears behind his sandeel pattern. The fish follows the fly without taking it. A second time, it comes back, tracks the streamer... then disappears. A brief but encouraging apparition. It raises questions too. "What did I miss? What did I do wrong?" he wonders. "Was it my fly, my retrieve, my retrieve speed, or my silhouette too visible on the quay?"
Last casts on the beach at dusk
After a good, restorative meal in the middle of the afternoon - luckily, the seafront restaurants serve late! - we decide to refocus on seabass and try one last approach: fishing in the waves and shallow water along the beach. For Matthieu, it is the perfect excuse to get into swim shorts and put his feet in the water. He catches a weever on a small red streamer worked close to the bottom. On my side, I get a solid hit in the waves. A sudden boost of motivation! We keep at it until the last light of day; they say European seabass are more active at night than during the day. The horizon takes on an ochre wash and turns crimson, the sea shifts to metallic blue. We cast into this chiaroscuro, using the firm sand to lay down the fly line and lengthen our casts. Night settles in, and we reluctantly leave the beach and the shoreline.
These sunny autumn days, in the wind and iodine-rich air of the Mediterranean, gave us a good taste of this new playground. They also highlighted just how little we know about the environment... But that is exactly what makes the experience so exciting: rediscovering the uncertainty, hesitation, and curiosity of the early days. We are newborns in saltwater fly fishing. And we will gladly come back to cast and strip, with a few more reference points and just as much curiosity. To be continued!
- THE GEAR TESTED DURING THIS TRIP -
