It's about the journey
IF YOU'VE EVER BEEN INCLINED to scan your cable offerings in search of a flyfishing infusion, chances are good that you've come upon an intense Californian with piercing blue eyes-namely, Conway Bowman. Conway has played host on several fishing shows, most recently Fly Fishing the World on the Sportsman Channel. Most would agree that Conway's ongoing quest for mako sharks in the waters off San Diego, California, has catapulted him to fly-rod celebrity, a status that has all the gravitas in the nonfishing world of being, in his words, "the world's tallest midget." Although sharks may have placed an exclamation point on Conway's fly-fishing career, smaller prey provided an early defining moment.
"I grew up in the San Diego area," Conway began, "and my dad was a schoolteacher. In the summer months, he'd go to Idaho to fly fish, and he'd take me along. One day when I was eight, we were fishing on the Henry's Fork. My dad had waded out toward the middle of the river, as there were lots of trout rising out there. I was stuck on the bank with my fly rod, as I was too small to wade. A man with a moustache and a white ten-gallon hat walked up. To an eight year old, he looked like the Marlboro Man. 'How's it going?' he asked. 'Are you catching anything?' I was a little dejected and said 'Nope.' He said, 'Okay, tie this ant on and cast down the bank.' 'Right next to the bank?' I asked, and he said 'Yep.' I tied the ant on and on the third or fourth cast, I caught a sixteen-inch rainbow. The stranger-who turned out to be Mike Lawson (who started Henry's Fork Anglers)-netted the fish and showed it off to my dad, who came to the bank at that moment with a gigantic trout of his own. That was the first time I ever saw a fish come up and take the fly. I can still see the take, still hear Mike telling my dad about the fish I'd caught."
Summers were fruitful on the fly-fishing front for Conway, but the rest of the year was a bit lacking. There just aren't many trout streams in greater San Diego. After spending a few winters fishing for bass in local reservoirs, Conway noticed a fairly large body of water to the west and realized that it might hold promise…and that sharks were among the most plentiful sport fish off the coast of San Diego. "I bought a seventeen-foot aluminum skiff with a twenty-five horse tiller-controlled motor and a compass and handheld radio," Conway explained. "I would run that skiff so far out that I couldn't see land! There were some dicey times when the fog would roll in and I was ten miles out to sea but I made it back and look at those times as not stupid moves, but valued learning experiences. The first time I went fly fishing for sharks, I conned one of my buddies, Mike Seim, to venture out with me. We set a chum slick (a stew of yellowtail carcasses, seasoned with a few tablespoons of menhaden oil), and by the end of the day we had landed twenty-five blue sharks ranging from four to eight feet long. At that point I realized that I was onto something fly-rodding for sharks. But it took me two years to catch my first mako on the fly." (Sadly Mike, who went on to become a well-respected guide in Montana, died in 2011.)
Suffice it to say, fly fishing for mako sharks is not a dainty game. In addition to the telephone pole of a fly rod, reels are outfitted with eight hundred yards of backing, a stainless steel leader, and foot-long blaze orange flies tied on 8/0 hooks. On an average day, Bowman will motor a few miles offshore to a spot where a current moves through. The current will broadcast a chum slick, which draws sharks close because of its olfactory appeal. Sometimes it takes a while for a shark to appear, sometimes its appearance is almost instantaneous. "When you're fishing for makos, the sharks are hunting you, not the other way around," Conway said. "They're not shy; when they turn on, they're like heat-seeking missiles." Casts need not be long or terrifically accurate; the shark will generally find any fly within a five-foot radius. Once the shark chomps down on the fly, get ready: Some fish will take out three or four hundred yards of line in a run and are celebrated for their astounding leaps, which can reach twenty feet above the water!
There is a sense of bravado in big-game fishing, and the audacity to chase mako sharks with a fly rod only ups the ante. Yet Conway's eagerness to have his clients stick a shark is balanced by a great admiration and respect for these animals-and a desire to cease their senseless slaughter by "sportsmen." To this end, he's launched Flying Mako, a catch and release fly-fishing tournament where proceeds go toward shark conservation efforts. He has also tried to persuade by example.
"I got to know a commercial fisherman who caught and killed a lot of sharks with a handline," Conway recalled. "I think he thought I was one step above the village idiot, casting to them with a fly rod. One time we were fishing pretty close by each other, and I hooked a shark. It nearly jumped into his boat. He came over afterwards and said, 'Boy I thought I fished light tackle!' We moored our boats at the same marina, and he'd come over some days and ask how I did. When he decided that I wasn't a threat to what he was doing, he began to share hints about where to find the sharks on certain tides. This began to bring the mako's behavior into context for me.
"I changed marinas and didn't see him for a number of years, and then I ran into him. He told me that he'd gotten out of commercial fishing-killing makos just started to feel weird. 'I want to do what you do-take people out to catch makos so they can see what great adversaries they are, then put them back.' After his first trip, he stopped by my house to tell me about his day. 'I had two kids and a dad, and we released ten makos. I apologized to every fish before I let it go for all the sharks I killed. Seeing the look on those kids' faces when we got the sharks up to the boat-I've never had a better day on the water in my life.'"
Conway has ambivalent feelings about fly fishing on television. "It's a weird dynamic," he reflected. "A big part of the reason that I like to fish is a chance to get away from crowds and be alone with my thoughts. When we're filming a segment, it's not my space anymore, as I have all the crew along, and I need to remember that I'm not just fishing; we're making a program. But on the other hand, I love the idea that the program may be inspiring viewers to go out and do something that's brought me so much satisfaction-to go out and fly fish for carp, or a shark, or a steelhead, or a bluegill. Each fish is unique and presents challenges in its own way, whether it's a six-inch brook trout or a six-foot mako shark. I don't discount any species, as long as it's caught on a fly rod and done in a sporting manner. For me, it's all thrilling and all connected. It's about the journey."
ABOUT THE ANGLER
CONWAY BOWMAN is the owner and operator of Bowman Bluewater. He began fly fishing in Idaho at eight years old. Since then he's mastered the river, lake, and sea. He has hosted ESPN's In Search of Flywater and is now the host of Fly Fishing the World on the Sportsman Channel. Conway is the current International Game Fish Association (IGFA) world-record holder of redfish on ten-pound test-a 41.65-pound bull. He lives in the San Diego area with his wife, Michelle, and son, Maximillian.
