March 13, 2011

At Jensen Beach, Florida

The Indian River Lagoon, stretching 156 miles from the New Smyrna Beach area south to the Jupiter Inlet below Stuart, is not truly a river, but a massive estuary along the Atlantic coast, rich with fish, bird, mammal and plant species. In fact, it is one of the great estuaries in the U. S. Much of it is only a few feet deep, but it is at least a half-mile wide and sometimes 5 miles wide, a place where fresh water meets salt. I often think Marcia Lapham-Foosaner knows this long ribbon of water as well as anybody, certainly the area she most often plies between Fort Pierce and Stuart.

Fly-fishing guide Marcia Lapham-Foosaner on the Indian River Lagoon in Florida. Click to enlarge

Marcia is a fly-fishing guide, and many if not most days she is on the water in her 18-foot flats skiff, often with a client, sometimes just fishing by herself. She knows the winds, the tides, the seasons, the feeding patterns and places; she always gets fish.

I joined Marcia on the water the other day with Sam Fried, a friend of mine from Connecticut who now spends winters in Fort Pierce. The wind was a little more than we might have preferred, but the day otherwise was warm, mostly sunny, and comfortable. In other words, beautiful.

One of Marcia’s specialties is fly-casting for pompano, a species that is reasonably plentiful in the lagoon and provides great sport. Marcia pioneered fly-fishing for pompano, far as I can tell, recognizing years ago that pompano are fun on a fly rod and can be taken in shallow water, often with flies that imitate crabs or shrimp. An outing with Marcia often goes like this: she approaches a flat or bar in her boat, scanning the water for signs of fish, anchoring the boat when things look right. Now, hop out of the boat, in waders, and cast, cast, cast. Sandy, open pockets within beds of seagrass many times will hold a pompano. She’ll point them out if you don’t see them.

Everyone seems to know her or of her, and, not surprisingly, I guess, just below the Ernest F. Lyons Bridge at Sewall’s Point is a flat named for her; Marcia’s Flat. She is not only a regular on the lagoon, she is a fixture of the flats. She keeps a close eye on the health of the seagrass beds, which suffer if freshwater discharges into the lagoon are excessive, as they can be at times.

Saltwater fly-fishing guide Marcia Lapham-Foosaner and angler Sam Fried with his first pompano. Click to enlarge.

Pompano are fast fish – sometimes skipping across the surface of the water when spooked – and powerful for their size. They are oval-shaped, with a deeply forked tail, with bright silver sides and a yellow wash to the belly and throat. They are one of the most desirable food fish in Florida, commanding absolute top dollar in the fish markets and restaurants. After a half dozen outings with Marcia, my sense is they tend to run 1- to 3-pounds in the lagoon, though fish over 5 pounds are taken. On a fly rod they make powerful runs. I caught a 5-pounder last year that, when the hook was set, took off on a reel-screeching run of what had to be 20 yards, maybe more.

The three of us spent the day fishing the shallows off Sewall’s Point, upriver of one of the lagoon inlets. Sam lobbed a fly into one of those sandy pockets in the seagrass and, sure enough – wham. We ended up with about a dozen fish, mostly pompano, but some blues and jacks among them, too. Sam took two pompano home for dinner.

March 12, 2011

Pittsburg, N. H., is a massive town, the size of many counties in the U. S., among them Hartford County in Connecticut. But it is in the far north country of New England, where winters are long and severe, and a long way from metropolitan centers. It has a population of only about 850 people. Everybody assumes there are more moose than people in Pittsburg.

A section of Garfield Falls in Pittsburg, N. H. Click to enlarge.

Indeed, in the pantheon of New England destinations, Pittsburg is the antithesis of a Boston, Newport or Mystic. For all its size, it has few paved roads. What it has is vast expanses of forest dotted and laced with lakes and streams.

Fail to pay constant attention as you drive Route 3 through town at dusk and, sooner or later, it will mean an ugly collision with a moose. It is difficult to spend a week in Pittsburg without seeing a moose. Seeing a half-dozen is more likely.

Pittsburg has amenities, including some comfortable places to lodge, scenic campgrounds, a half dozen restaurants and a general store. What really matters, though, and why people visit, is that Pittsburg is woods and water.

There are great views from the summit of Magalloway Mountain, a hike that many people can do. Garfield Falls is a scenic, peaceful spot reached by a long dirt road. The fishing is terrific, attracting fly-fishers from afar.

The soul and centerpiece of the town is the Connecticut River, New England’s largest and grandest waterway. The Connecticut is born in Pittsburg on a hillside on the Canadian border, where tiny rivulets drain into a body of water called Fourth Connecticut Lake, a name that suggests something far larger than what is is – a boggy 2.5-acre pond reachable only by a trail.

Check tomorrow’s Hartford Courant for my story on Pittsburg. It is the lead article in the paper’s Life section.

Feb. 23, 2011

At Delray Beach, Florida

A green heron at Wakodahatchee Wetland. Click to enlarge

Sam Fried, a terrific birder from Connecticut now living in Fort Pierce, told me the other day of a great birding spot in Delray Beach, the Wakodahatchee Wetland, owned by the Palm Beach County Water Utilities Department. It is an artificial, freshwater wetland about four miles from the sea and created in 1996 as an end-stage for highly treated water from the county’s wastewater treatment system. The water is essentially clean, though nutrient rich. It apparently was not consciously intended as such, but the wetland, part of it a pond, has become a wildlife haven and one of the better birding locations in Florida. In fact, it is part of the Great Florida Birding Trail, a network of the prime birding locations. In any event, the water utility welcomes the public, and Wakodahathee now includes a three-quarter-mile-long boardwalk to access 50 acres of habitat.

I usually ignore man-made habitats, even large impoundments that create lakes, though I often did paddle my kayak in Lake Lillinonah in Newtown and Southbury, Ct., when I lived but a few miles away. I’m willing to make another exception here. We have to have wastewater treatment facilities, and if the end stage of the process is a useful and safe wildlife habitat, so much the better. Wakodahatchee, by the way, is derived from the Seminole language and translates as “created waters.” Nice touch.

I spent an hour walking the wetland, camera in hand, binoculars around my neck. What distinguishes Wakodahatchee is how close visitors can get to the bird life, often less than 20 feet. Pied-billed grebes were numerous, and close, as were coot and gallinule. Egrets and herons were everywhere. I didn’t keep track, but I likely saw 30 species in my brief time there. I also got a nice photo of a green heron.