Spring has finally arrived in Virginia after a winter that just wouldn’t quit. Ospreys are nesting, dogwood trees are blooming, and shad are likely running up a river near you. Shad are members of the herring family and mostly feed on plankton at sea; for this reason they are often thought of as a bait fish. However, when they gather to swim up freshwater rivers and spawn, they present an excellent fly fishing opportunity in some of America’s most populous areas. Often lauded as the “poor-man’s tarpon,” shad put up a spirited fight for their size, using the river’s swift current to their advantage or leaping across the flowing stream to shake the hook.
The excitement begins when water temperatures start warming enough to trigger their instinct to return to fresh water and spawn. That may be as early as February for states in the South or as late as June for New England. Here in Virginia, late March through April has been the consistent peak. The epicenter of shad fishing in my hometown of Richmond is the Interstate 95 bridge crossing the James River. On a nice spring day, a cluster of boats is always visible to the office-workers downtown. One of my favorite things about this fishery is the urban scenery – crumbling brick factories and granite railroad bridges contrast with new steel skyscrapers and concrete floodwalls, showing the great progress Richmond has made. But the landscape is ultimately dwarfed by the river carving through the city, playing host to the enduring springtime shad ritual.
Boat fishing is the best way to cover the water; access is available for motorboats on the southside at Ancarrow’s Landing and on the north side at the 14th Street Takeout. However, a variety of stone outcroppings along the river afford shore-bound anglers an opportunity to get in on the action. A number of these spots are easily accessible (read: they are often overrun with spin-fisherman slinging lead and chunks of gizzard shad out into the river for catfish). Try to get away from the crowd by finding some empty jagged boulders to scramble across, because why not mix in parkour with fly fishing? A great walk-in spot is in the shadow of the Southern States grain tower just downriver from the 14th Street Bridge in Manchester. The catfishers are usually further downriver, and the nearby jogging path lets you show your angling skills to that Lululemon cutie walking her golden retriever. Just watch your backcast.
1200 Brander St, Richmond, VA 23224
Richmond, VA 23219
This whole area is the fall-line for the James, demarcating the transition area between riverine and estuarine environments. After tumbling through numerous rapids and waterfalls, the river abruptly reaches sea level and the softer coastal plain sediments where it begins to lazily meander to the Chesapeake Bay. After traveling through tidal waters, the shad stage here for their upriver journey. Although they are primarily planktonic filter feeders, they will strike a fly out of aggression. Just as a beautiful brook trout is complemented by the elegant Royal Coachman, the modest shad is so complemented by a functional, no-frills shad fly. A shad fly should do two things – sink and flash. The fish are often lower in the water column, and the stained water conditions that prevail during the spring necessitate the flash. A size 6 hook with small dumbell or bead chain eyes, flourescent thread, and flashabou is all it takes to fool a shad. From there you can vary the materials, adding a sparkly wing or a flashy overwrap. I had great success several years ago with a Halloween Clouser – size 1/0 with black and orange bucktail and copper flashabou. Not only was it deadly on the shad, but I also netted a striped bass and a smallmouth bass with the Halloween Clouser.
Whatever fly you choose, it must be fished on a sinking fly line. Popular sizes range from 5 to 8. I’m sure battling a shad on a 5 weight in the current is a blast, but I use an 8 because you can sometimes find striped bass spawning in the same waters, and if you hook one you’ll be glad you brought the 8. The idea here is to get the fly down the water column fast, before the current sweeps it downstream. A shooting head type line is ideal here, because of the all-day repetitive casting. Also, it affords the shore-bound angler a way to really launch a fly where long backcasts may be impossible. After anchoring up, I make 90-degree casts straight towards shore, give a quick mend, and slowly strip the fly back to the boat. They will strike all the way to the boat, so keep the fly in the water as much as you can. The fish are usually down deep and it’s a risky game to get that fly down to them without snagging some sort of river junk on the bottom – branches, rocks, shopping carts, whatever. A thin wire hook can flex and allow you to retrieve a snag, but also may bend open when you hook a big one.
Recreational shad fishing is a relatively new pursuit. Commercial harvest decimated the fishery by the late 1800s. Comebacks began in the 1980s as water quality improved and dam removal began on several major East Coast rivers. Virginia does not allow possession of American shad. Hickory shad can be kept, but their bones make them infinitely more difficult to filet than a trout or bass. They are best cooked in a smoker where the flesh flakes off the bones. My grandmother has told me stories of cooking shad on a plank in the oven for so long that the bones soften enough to be eaten. I make room in my fridge for something else and simply enjoy my shad on the end of the line.
Put away your winter boots, grab some friends, pack some bites and brews, and get down to the river for a leisurely day of shad fishing. There’s no getting up early, no drifts ruined by a phantom micro-drag, and no snobs bragging about their 15x tippet and bamboo rod. Just enjoy catching a fish that’s made a stellar rebound and instilled an angling spirit into the heart of downtown Richmond.
