A big ray on fly provides more than its share of white knuckle action.

It seemed like madness at first as the fly was placed in front of the cruising ray and the half grin and lifted browsaid it all as the large shadow shifted across and settled on the offering. Anyone who has ever caught an eagle or blue spotted ray will understand the term madness in relation to the act as these are the only rays to be recognised and classified as a blue water sports fish and they are rightly deserved of their rank. Surely it would not take the fly, were the thoughts echoed from those who had seen many angling moments unfold. In that instant the tranquil shallows exploded as the rays powerful wings beat a hasty retreat that lay the rod flat and made the reel howl at a pitch that seemed impossible to keep pace. In an attempt to slow the run, a well weighted palm was used in a fashion that had to be tempered so as not to burn skin. The look on the fluff chucker’s face was like that of the boy who pulled the dog’s tail only to have it reach around and savage him. Yep, didn’t expect that and what to do next were the thoughts brimming aloud as the ray powered several hundred meters across the shallow bay at a blistering speed. Amazingly enough the small reel stood fast and as hot as it was it had failed to seize which was something you would have laid good money on. For the next forty minutes or so the ray was worked towards shore before finding its head and heading seaward again. On each occasion the reel would protest with a high pitched wail that by now smelt similar to burning plastic. Even so, each dash for the horizon was becoming shorter than the last and dare to hope but it looked like the angler might actually be winning. Near on exhausted, the fluff chucker and beast were to meet in the shallows almost an hour and a half after the cast was laid in front of the ray. It was a strange moment for the captor and one marked with an air of respect at the power delivered by such a beast. At the same time an angling feat not to be scoffed as it was accomplished on a six weight rod and 4kg tippet. The kind of tackle more suited to carp and the likes than one of the fastest rays known to cruise the oceans shallows. As fishermen do, it was time to take that angling moment to the next level. And so it was the very next day armed this time with a twelve weight rod suited to smaller marlin and the like a larger ray was spied and hooked in a similar fashion. Only this time the howling run overheated and seized the reel, dragging the angler viciously across and into the corner of the boat before the line parted with a rifle shot crack. Mmmm and they say fly fishing is supposedly a relaxing form of angling practised by gentry on a finesse level to outsmart some of our more finicky fish species. I guess the extreme side of this sport is practised by those who are yet to understand where the outer boundaries of fly fishing actually lie, or even if there are any for that matter.