Tag: Destin

Tom Nixon and the Calcasieu Pigboat

May 4, 2026 / stflyfisher / 0 Comments

“A bass is a far cry from the conventional target of the long rod. So when the conventional concepts of tackle, lures, and procedures fail to interest an unconventional quarry, go it his way”.

Tom Nixon, Largemouth Bass Fly Rodder

On my 2025 trip to our little place on Florida’s panhandle, I read William G. Tapply’s wonderful book of fly-fishing essays, “Every Day Was Special”, and came across a piece about an intriguing bass fly and its innovative creator, Tom Nixon. Just beyond me as I read and enjoyed a beer and cigar, lay Horseshoe Lake, a little sweet water jewel our Beachwalk townhouse is perched on.

The view from our place of Horseshoe Lake

In that water swim abundant baitfish, bluegills, and some truly impressive largemouth bass. While I had previously caught some nice largemouth bass in Horseshoe Lake, the more I read about Tom Nixon and his unique fly, the more I wanted to get my hands on it and give it a try. So, on my most recent visit, this past April, I did just that.

Nixon was a revolutionary in our sport, though, sadly, I doubt many fly fishers have ever heard of him. What I found researching the man, dare I say legend, is that he was born and schooled in Illinois, becoming an engineer, and eventually relocating to Lake Charles, Louisiana through his professional work for the Pittsburgh Plate Glass Company. While working there, Nixon would spend most of his free time in a johnboat, armed with a fly rod in pursuit of big bass and panfish along the Calcasieu River and its many tributaries. And like any good engineer, he was constantly devising new fly patterns that might improve his success on that river.

Nixon literally wrote the book on fly fishing for bass and panfish. His seminal work, “Fly Tying and Fly Fishing for Bass and Panfish,” was first published in 1968, with a total of 3 editions thereafter. I was able to purchase a used copy – it is no longer available new in print.

The book grew from a request of Nixon in the early 1960s to teach fly fishing and fly tying to a group of boy scouts. Nixon tried to document all the various aspects of the sport he could think of, noting that most everything at the time was dedicated to cold-water trout and its flies. Failure to find sources to recommend to others led him to putting his notes into book form.

Fly fishing purists will likely not be fans of Nixon. His creations make use of spinners and plastics and all of this long before such things as the spoon fly ever took form in a vise. But Nixon’s creativity did not bother some of our sport’s greatest names. Lefty Kreh and Dave Whitlock are proud to have associated with Nixon over the years and reportedly fished his flies. Nixon was even invited as a tyer to the very first International Federation of Fly Fishers Show.

It used to be that bassing with a fly rod was wholly devoted to the popper. If bass were not taking topwater, one didn’t fish the fly rod for them. Streamers, crayfish patterns and other subsurface flies were not used for bass. That was, until the creation of the Calcasieu Pig Boat.

Nixon had friends who were into bass tournaments and used all sorts of conventional gear baits. He didn’t like getting out fished by his friends. “I was having to put up with a lot of guff from some of my heave and crank acquaintances about fly rod bass” he told William Tapply during an interview. Nixon wanted to develop a fly that would be as effective as some of the things they used. That’s how the “Pig Boat” was born, and it did prove to be one of the most effective bass flies ever developed. “Pig Boat” was the term used for German submarines in WW2, which were deadly at their ship-sinking craft. His favorite bass haunts were on the Calcasieu River in Louisiana – hence “The Calcasieu Pig Boat.”

Nixon’s creation first hit the water in early 1951. At that time, the Hawaiian Wiggler was one of the best bass lures around, and so he designed the Pig Boat to imitate the conventional lure. This fly most resembles the bass angler’s jig. Over the years, it’s not only taken thousands of bass, but it’s been equally deadly at times on brown trout, walleye and other species it was never intended for.

The Pig Boat’s overall length is two to three inches long. Traditionally, the rubber hackle skirt and the head on a Pig Boat are black with the body, composed of extra-large chenille palmered with saddle hackles in any color you want it to be. Use extra-large chenille for the body. Medium size round rubber works best for the Pig Boat’s skirt. Four bunches of legs are tied in on the near side, top side, far side, and bottom of the hook. The head is built up out of thread, coated, and traditionally has an eye applied to it. Here’s a great YouTube video of tying this great fly.

This is a big bulky fly, so it’s appropriate to use an 8 or 9 weight rod to throw this with either a “big fly” weight-forward floating line or sink-tip line depending on the type and depth of water being fished. This fly is best fished using a strip-pause-strip-pause retrieve but it pays to also vary the type of retrieve depending upon the mood of the fish. Even though the Pig Boat was originally designed to catch big bass, it is also an effective saltwater fly. It’s reportedly been used to take big redfish in the Gulf among other species.

Over 25 years ago, when a local bass club invited Tom Nixon to participate in their tournaments on the Toledo Bend Reservoir, he accepted the chance to stack his fly rod up against their spinning and baitcasting gear. Nixon entered 5 tournaments and got one first, one second, and two third place finishes, and was disqualified from the fifth when his alarm failed to wake him in time for the start. Most of his bass were caught on just two flies – a spinner and Pig Boat rig and a yellow cork body popping bug.

Nixon fished late into his life, well into his 80’s and when he wasn’t fishing, he’d be giving programs or demonstrating his patterns at shows throughout the mid-South.

Nixon designed and tied many other patterns that are less well known than the pig boat, but also effective on bass and panfish, such as the .56%er, a deadly pattern for panfish…

The .56%er – picture courtesy of the Panfish on the Fly blog.

And so, during my recent 2026 visit, I decided to give the Calcasieu Pig Boat a try on the largemouth bass of Horseshoe Lake and adjoining ponds of the Sandestin Resort. I had purchased a bunch of Pig Boats in white and black/green color combinations. These flies sported a “mister twister” tail off the size 1 hook, something Nixon would have approved of – he was known to hang a pork rind tail off a pig boat at times and found it worked well.

A Sportsman’s Warehouse version of the Calcasieu Pig Boat

True to what I read, the pig boat performed admirably for me, tempting bass with its mass of undulating rubber legs and bulky body with the flash of chenille. I worked it in the shallows and around structure on an 8-weight floating line and sight fished it to bass staging to spawn. While I had fished a big Wooly Bugger to catch bass on previous trips, the Pig Boat has replaced the bugger as my go-to bass assassin pattern. I landed several very nice bass, including a personal best that taped out to roughly 23″.

The size 1/0 hook on this pig boat resulted in many more hookups as compared to a size 4 or 2 wooly bugger as well.

A prime example of the quality bass of Horseshoe Lake

In the end, fishing the Pig Boat on Horseshoe Lake felt like shaking hands across time, 75 years to be exact. Nixon built his flies for the dark water of the Calcasieu, but their spirit travels well — from the Louisiana bayous to a quiet Florida lake where a bass with shoulders made my day. Patterns come and go, but the good ones carry a piece of their maker with them. After this trip, I’m convinced the Pig Boat is one of those rare flies that still speaks clearly, decades after its creator set it loose. It now has a place in my box…

Ole’ bucketmouth saves the day…

March 14, 2026 / stflyfisher

The fishing was good; it was the catching that was bad.

A.K. Best

It was not a very auspicious start. The first day of the annual spring vacation in Destin was too windy and stormy for fishing the surf or bay, so an evening visit to the lake just steps off our deck was in order.

As the sun began to drop, I sight-fished the shoreline for largemouth bass and after some careful stalking took a personal best fish that jumped like a largemouth should and fought like they normally don’t (as in hard). As Kirk Klingensmith once said during an excellent presentation on fly fishing for bass, “for largemouth its all about the explosive take” (he relegated to smallmouth their rightful place as the harder fighter and no less a jumper). This largemouth bass must not have heard Kirk’s presentation.

What made that catch even more ego-stroking was the crowd that gathered as I landed it. Adults staying in townhouses adjacent to where I did battle were on their decks for cocktail hour. Before long I had a group of them hooting and hollering and raining down praise. I felt righteous, indeed. After a quick picture, I released the fish to applause and headed back to my own place with a definite skip in my step.

Sometimes a little good luck is a bad thing, at least in the fishing world. I headed off the next day, eager to conquer the salt, full of optimistic visions from my last spring trip to Destin. Surely this year’s pompano run would afford me some great action, and unlike last year, I was eager to actually keep a few of these silver bullets of the surf. Pompano are, according to many in Florida, phenomenal table fare. Their flesh is light, fair, and firm to the point where they can be grilled with the skin on.

So off I went in the morning to the surf, high hopes and 8 weight in hand. I walked out across the dunes and there it was – disappointment immediately smacking me in the face. The typically clear emerald waters were dirty and rough. A few bait fishermen using sand fleas for bait – a favorite of pompano – had caught nothing. I walked the beach, cast for a little while into some deep sloughs between the beach and the first bar, and returned home with a big skunk on my back, hero to zero.

I fished the bay, also turbid and seemingly void of fish. A conversation with the local Orvis fly shop’s fishing manager confirmed that the bay was off due to the rain and that I’d be best off to fish the surf. So with renewed hope, I returned to the surf again. The water was colder than last year and previous high winds from the south kept the surf on the rougher side, but clarity was improving and the wave heights were dropping with each passing day. I visited the beach a total of 4 times, and though each subsequent trip saw better conditions, my casts went unanswered. A conversation with a local fisherman confirmed that unusually cold weather had kept ocean temperatures in the low 60’s, whereas normally they’d be approaching 70. This would push back the fishing to later weeks in April or even early May.

Another frontal storm hit Destin on our second and last weekend there. High winds, rain, and cool weather prevailed. On our last day, Monday, the skies cleared bright blue, the sun warmed the air, and the winds abated. The beach had rip-tide warnings posted and the surf was still high, so I returned to fish the lake. We had a late afternoon flight that gave me enough time to get out one last time.

The bass were still around, though in most cases the spawning beds were empty. In some cases fingerlings could be seen in tight schools flitting about the empty beds. I sight cast to fish I saw and enjoyed the challenge of making precision casts. The smaller males guarded a few nests while the larger females hung back in the shadows of the adjacent depths. Both were cautious and spooky and not at all aggressive as they might be early in the spawn. But I did manage to get a few eats, missed a few, and landed a couple more.

One of a few to wrap up our spring trip to Destin…

One never knows what may be in store when travelling to distant places, fly rod in hand. Weather can change and conditions can deteriorate, or conditions can be great and the fish just don’t show up. The great days, the ones that make a fly fisher thank his lucky stars or kiss his good luck charm can both bless and haunt. In the end it is really all a matter of doing thorough preparation and research, damping expectations, and arming one self with confidence and a bit of optimism. Once “in country”, one must try to recon conditions, use weather forecasts and river gauging, and visit local fly shops and talk to fishermen, including the spin guys, the bait guys, and even the commercial guys. All of these sources can help one steer towards a successful trip. Obviously, a fishing destination that is characterized by one “pattern”, as in one river system or one type of fish, carries more risk of the skunk in comparison to areas where there are multiple opportunities, such as in Destin, and our own Southern Tier. I never knew it, but Destin has turned out to be a terrific fishing destination. Most times I’ll always aim first for the salt, but now more than ever, I know ole bucketmouth is always there to save the day.

Pompano on the fly…

March 6, 2026 / stflyfisher

Hey, are you Jeff Lowery? You sure look like him. He’s a fly-fishing legend around here.

Shout-out from an old beach bum in Destin, Florida

He looked like Jim Harrison, the famous writer and fly fisherman, squinty-eyed, wrinkled, and tan as old leather. It was the second time in two days he had asked me if I was Jeff Lowery.

“You asked me that yesterday”, I said with a grin. “Oh, well you sure look like him”, the old beach bum replied. “He’s a fly-fishing legend around here. He fishes from a step ladder on the first bar”. And with that he promptly moved on down the beach in his quest for the elusive fly-fishing legend.

I had arrived early with the morning sun painting the beach and dunes sugar-white and the calm surf in hues of emerald and azure. The first and second bars were clearly visible with the deep blue of the troughs beyond them. The first bar was out 25 to 50 feet. That is where I needed to wade to intercept fish that cruised the trough and crashed bait against the shallows of the bar. It was late-April and the fishing report was that the pompano run was a strong one.

permit pompano spearfishing today — A tale of two cousins…

Pompano are a smaller cousin to the permit – the saltwater fish of fly-fishing dreams and one of the three gamefish of the tropical saltwater fly-fishing “grand slam”, the other two being the bonefish and tarpon.

Pompano can range up to 8 lbs., but fish over 5 lbs., are rare. Even so, they are built for speed with their forked tail and tall compact body. Their saltwater habitat is typically inshore and nearshore warm waters (70-89 °F), especially along sandy beaches, oyster bars and over seagrass beds. Because of their temperature preferences, pompano migrate northward in the summer, and then southward in the fall. Their range extends from Massachusetts to Brazil, but they are most common to areas near Florida. Like permit, pompano feed on crustaceans: sand fleas, small crabs, and shrimp. But they also eat mollusks and small baitfish. They are a member of the jack family (Trachinotus Carolinus) and like most jacks, are very fast swimmers and live in schools. They are bottom feeders with very short teeth made for crushing and their mouths are rubbery, much like a carp.

permit-zoom — The Permit – picture courtesy of Gray’s Taxidermy

I was not sure how to fish the pompano run so I started with a small Clouser in blue and chartreuse. The 9-weight cast it well on an intermediate line and a 6-foot leader tapered down to 15 lb., test. There was little wind to knock the fly down and almost immediately I felt solid taps on the retrieve. As I lifted the fly to re-cast, several small fish came screaming by the fly. I’d deal with these feisty fish all day, dime-bright bullets with tails in egg yolk yellow.

After a few more casts to the deep blue edge of the trough I felt a soft grab, somewhat tentative, followed by a few head shakes and then the jolting of the line and bright flashes in the water. The fish suddenly “grew” in size and made off on a run that pulled my rod down to the horizon, bucking wildly, and had me doing everything I could to keep the slack line feeding cleanly through the rod guides. In no time I had the fish on the reel, the drag screaming as the fish tore off to deeper water.

At times I gained on the fish, then it would reverse and peel out. This continued for 5 minutes and then wondering and hoping it was a pompano, my first pompano, I saw its gleaming deep side and the forked tail. I waded back off the bar into a small trough and up the beach. The fish slowly tired but still fought in the surf. I walked up the beach some more and dragged the fish out onto the beach.

It was a pompano – speed demon of the gulf surf! Its body shone bright in the sun – hues of silver and light blue, its back dark gray with hints of yellow on its underside and tail. The fish had inhaled the small Clouser so I clipped the line as close as I could and released it, feeling good about catching my first pompano.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA — My first pompano on what would turn out to be one of those days to remember…

I waded back out to the first bar. The water was still relatively cool but the sun warmed me. The day brightened and the sea around me turned on with color. I now tied on a fly that imitates a sand flea, one of the principal foods of the beach-running pompano. Like permit, the pompano has a downcast mouth made for eating the bottom dwelling sand flea, among other crustaceans.

Vlahos sandflea — This sand flea pattern was just the ticket for the pompano that ran the troughs the day I fished. This fly was designed by Nick Vlahos and sold on his website (www.sandbarflies.com). The pattern I fished was sold at the Sandestin Orvis store and is called Vlahos’ Marbled Sand Flea.

I fished this fly deeply with short twitches and it wasn’t long before I was fast to another pompano. These fish are truly built for speed in the shallower waters of the surf, and it was evident why when I watched large porpoises in the outer bar that were feeding on them.

As the sun rose higher in the sky, I could see the pompano in schools cruising up and down the beach. I was able to sight-fish them, casting ahead or just short of the school. Though pompano are known for their Jekyll and Hyde feeding personality, on this day the “pomps” were turned on and lit up. Most casts I made were followed and the fly would be attacked even when it meant an about-face for the fish. While the sand flea fly was very effective, switching to Clousers and other bright saltwater streamers didn’t seem to make much difference.

The fishing continued red-hot most of the morning into the early afternoon with 30 fish landed and quite a few more lost. Quite possibly the ultra clear water conditions and bright sun eventually ended the active bite. Pompano are known to prefer turbid waters so maybe too much sun was a bad thing.

After 5 hours of epic fishing in the sun-drenched clear waters of the Gulf, I decided to give the rest of the day back to the fish. I had that good tired feeling as I walked the two miles to the beach access with the sound of a screaming reel and the sight of a deeply bent fly rod accompanying me the whole way. The pompano definitely put a smile on my face and a skip in my step and I was thankful to have met such a beautiful gamefish. I will be sure to return next spring, hoping the timing is in tune with the spring migration and maybe too, in time to meet my apparent fly fishing clone, the legendary Jeff Lowery.

Tag: Destin

Tom Nixon and the Calcasieu Pigboat

Ole’ bucketmouth saves the day…

Pompano on the fly…

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