I will work on integrating the two sites when I return from my trip. Until then Clive might post an update or two with a few photos from the twitter feed as I update this weekend, but I’m not sure what kind of family plans he has this weekend so it might not happen at all.

This is also a good time to let everyone know that we are looking for new contributors! Send us an email with some information about yourself, where you live, and what kind of fishing or fishing related topics you would like to write about. It’s not a paid gig, but you just might end up with some sweet free swag this summer…

Have a safe and exciting weekend every one!

Hey guys,

Just wanted to send you a couple of new photos from September of 2008 from the Scugog river, and congratulate you guys on the great job you are doing on your website. I also won’t to thank you for highlighting me on the website, and the great comments. So thank you and congratulations. Here is a decent Scugog bucket and a 12lb musky my dad got into on the first week of September.

Thanks Paul, nice fish!

How do you catch fish in water over ten meters deep using a rod that does not have a reel, or even guides for your line? Simple: fashion the rod from bamboo, hollow out the centre and run the line through the middle and out the very end of the rod. Wrap your spare line around a couple of pegs at the other end, and you are ready to indulge in the traditional Japanese fishing technique known as tebane.

I first started using this technique to catch a fish known in Japanese as haze. Its scientific name is Acanthogobius flavimanus; however, there appears to be a lack of consensus over its common name in English, with references calling it spiny goby, yellowfin goby or spotted goby. For the sake of simplicity, from here on I will refer to the creatures as just ‘goby’. Gobies are a small, seasonal fish widespread throughout Pacific Asia, and grow up to 20cm in size; they favor muddy habitats and are tolerant of a wide range of temperature and salinity. The traditional goby fishing season starts in September, when the fish migrate from rivers and estuaries to the sea, in order to spawn. Boats packed with goby fans leave port early in the morning from all over Tokyo and Yokohama, and head to sheltered coves and bay areas where the gobies are known to congregate; although the general regions are fairly well known, each skipper has his own secret spot, usually well-managed and handed down from generation to generation by word of mouth. The best goby points are those that are inaccessible from land, preventing others from casting or throwing nets from the shore, and where the waters and tides are relatively calm. When I go fishing for goby, I always use the services of a boathouse called Fukagawa Fujimi, which is located in the southeast of Tokyo. Fujimi is one of the longest-running such businesses in Japan: they have been a family-run affair since before the beginning of the Edo Period, over four hundred years ago. The skipper, a lean, sun-tanned Tokyoite known to regulars as ‘Captain Beard’ due to his whiskers, is famous for both his prowess at catching gobies (which is quite fearsome) and for his no-nonsense, old school approach to not just fishing, but to life in general. Although his countenance is often intimidating to newcomers, he is always happy to take the time to teach beginners – in his thick, east Tokyo accent – the science of traditional goby fishing with bamboo rods, and as a novice I count myself lucky to be able to learn from his vast experience.

Continue reading A Different Kind of Fishing, by Adam Guy