In the spirit of our continuing commitment to offer our readers the pick of high quality angling literature, FlyFish.com presents an extract from esteemed author Frank P. Baron’s highly informative What Fish Don’t Want You to Know…Enjoy!

Thinking like a fish
One of the keys to catching fish is knowing how they think. “Thinking like a fish” has become something of a cliche, but it is essential if you want to improve your results (By the way, it doesn’t help to stare bug-eyed at the water while rhythmically gulping air - I’ve tried it).

You need both general and species-specific knowledge to truly get inside their slippery little heads.

On the general level, fish aren’t much different from you and me. Our most basic needs are food and shelter. When these are met, we look at a whole range of other things to occupy our time. Fish don’t. Except at spawning time, fish are pretty much locked into the food and shelter thing.

They will find and spend most of their time in safe, comfortable places near food. To catch them, you must find these safe, comfortable places and offer them food (or a reasonable facsimile).

That’s where the species-specific knowledge comes in. A sunfish’s definition of “safe and comfortable” is vastly different from that of a 40-pound muskie. Even the ranking of safe and comfortable is on a sliding scale. The sunfish has many enemies and will choose safety over comfort if it can’t have both. The muskie fears little and will take comfort every time.

All species want food nearby.

It’s important to understand that all fish are in harmony with and finely attuned to their environments. They utilize their senses to the utmost, always aware of danger, always alert to the presence of prey. This near-constant state of high alert works against the plodding, clumsy, gravity-challenged angler. Luckily for us, though, fish aren’t particularly smart, and they’re great opportunists. That is the edge we have to exploit.

This “good to eat + can’t hurt me” thinking is the undoing of many a fish. So, in a nutshell, “thinking like a fish” means assessing a body of water, determining where your fish is likely to be, and then giving it what it thinks it wants. Let’s look at some typical bodies of water to see how this works.

Small streams
I cut my angling teeth fishing small creeks and streams for trout. Water like this is the easiest to “read” (to figure out where the fish are). Most of what follows applies to native fish, those that are born in, and that stay in, a particular body of water. Migratory trout and salmon are different.

Fish don’t like light. They have no eyelids (can’t blink) and no external ears (nowhere to hang sunglasses). They also have enemies, so they don’t want to be seen. Consequently, fish avoid light. So look for them in the deeper, darker holes, brush-covered areas, under overhangs, and deep within undercut banks.

Fish are lazy. Or, if you prefer, extremely “energy efficient.” They want food to come to them rather than to have to actually hunt for it. Aquatic insects, such as nymphs and larva, and unlucky terrestrials, like ants and grasshoppers, form the basis of their diet. As the insects hatch or the luckless ants lose their grip, the current tumbles them downstream. The biggest, most aggressive, “boss” fish will stake out the best holes in the stream; those that provide safety and proximity to a good current. Like a pizza place, the current offers free home delivery.

Being both lazy and cautious, they won’t spend a lot of time in midcurrent, but will dart out from cover to snap up a morsel and then retreat. In deep, dark holes, the depth at the mid-to-lower part of the pool provides a respite from the current, and the fish can pick and choose from the smorgasbord that comes their way.

Fish are agoraphobic (they have a fear of open spaces). You would be too if ospreys, kingfishers, gulls, and eagles had 20-foot wingspans and enjoyed eating people. Therefore, fish want a “roof” over their heads. The roof usually takes three forms: cover (as in tree roots, undercut banks, overhanging brush, or even surface foam), depth, and turbidity. Depth offers safety if predators can’t see to bottom where the fish is hunkered down. And dingy water allows fish to go about their business with less likelihood of being seen.

You will rarely, if ever, see a “boss” native fish before you’ve hooked it. It will be tucked away under the bank or under another obstruction if available. If you can see the bottom of a pool, the “ceiling” is too low for a good fish to feel comfortable. It will find a safer place. You’ll come across water that seems to fit the bill, deep holes with brush or overhangs, and catch nothing but chubs or suckers. What’s the deal? The water is probably moving too slowly, with either not enough oxygen or uncomfortably high temperatures and a poor delivery system. A nearby current flow is essential.

Exception: Occasionally, usually at night or after a rain, some big fish will visit these holes to put a dent in the chub and sucker population.

OK, you’re fishing a stream and you’ve found a likely looking hole that satisfies all the criteria. Now what? Well, if you’re a member of PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals), you take a picture and go home. But you happen to be an angler, and you want a crack at that 16-inch brown you just know is in there somewhere. Before we get too far along here, let’s take a peek at what you’re wearing and what tackle you’re using.

You have hip waders on because it will be necessary to cross the stream several times during the course of the day. Some holes can only be properly approached from one side or the other. And you’ll usually want to face the sun to keep your shadow behind you. You have a vest on with a minimum of 97 pockets, all of which are bulging with stuff you will mostly never need but that you might use one day (Besides, aching shoulders are a small price to pay for a good trout). You are wearing a hat and polarized sunglasses to cut the glare (facing the sun, remember?). These items are necessary even on cloudy days. You’re ready. And you’re lookin’ good. Maybe someone should take your picture.

You take careful aim and drop your offering dead center in the middle of a nice pool with a barely perceptible plop. You prepare to do battle. Wrong! Error! Stop the tape!

Remember the part about fish being finely attuned to their environment? Aha! I thought not. You just remembered the part about them being not too bright. In the natural scheme of things, a fish doesn’t often see worms dropping through its “ceiling.” Their food usually drifts in gently through the “front door,” via the current. OK, roll tape.

Rivers
Basic rules apply to bigger moving water; fish still want to feel safe and be near food. But they will have more choices of where to be in a larger river. Aside from the “usual” places already discussed, they may take shelter behind rocks or boulders, which provide current breaks. They will hold there sometimes, keeping their eyes focused on the sides so they can snatch passing goodies.

If you’re after migratory fish, like steelhead, some browns and brookies, or salmon, you’ll find them using the water as a highway to get where they are going (spawning beds) rather than as a home. They will rest in deeper holes, much to the chagrin of the natives, but won’t shy away from rapids, riffles, or shallower water (If you only got to have sex once a year, you wouldn’t be bothered by trifles like food or shelter either). These fish are also usually much larger than natives and not as worried about airborne predators.

So, unlike natives, migratory fish can be, and often are, hooked in water where they can be seen. You can often try to catch a specific fish, somewhat like a fly fisherman casting to where an individual fish is repeatedly rising. I still focus on deeper holes and runs when fishing for migratory fish because I much prefer the mystery of not knowing exactly what it is that takes my offering.