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The morning had gone well. We spent it sight-fishing for striped bass in the back end of a cove. The fish weren’t monsters - bass from 24” to 28”. Yet they were challenging and fun. But by late morning the tide had waned and so had the action. No doubt it was time to move on. So I slid the oars into the water and rowed us out toward the mouth, where hopefully we would find another bite.

Minutes later we approach a wide basin of waist deep water. As we drift over it, the water shifts color from the yellow of the shallow sand flats to a pale aqua-green. The increased depth makes it a good place for bass to hide at the end of the ebb. In fact the day before we had caught several stripers here at this stage of the tide. It was worth another visit. So the oars came back in and the anchor headed back out. Standing up, my buddy Phil and I scan the water for signs of life. Several minutes elapsed. Zilch. Reluctantly I’m about ready to return to the oars when I spy a dorsal fin. Lazily it zigzagged towards me, flashing like a mirror in the sun. Man what a gorgeous sight. As it drew closer, I drop the feathers ahead of it, let them settle and start to strip. Instantly the fin goes under, and now there’s a bow wake bearing down on the fly.

Suddenly the reel is screaming and I’m yelling too “ Phil yank the anchor - row!” This bass is a rocket ship. In a blur, Phil leaps to the oars. Meanwhile, way out yonder the striper changes direction, making a beeline for a neighboring flat. That’s a problem. On the far side is a deep swift channel. If this bad boy gets there it’s Sayonara. Phil rows over to the flat, and I jump ship. On foot I’m able to apply maximum pressure, and I stop the beast in its tracks. Reeling fast, I move forward to close the gap. Now the fish circles me slowly. Once, twice, three times, all the while staring at me with its saucer size eye. One more move and I’m gripping a striper of 40 plus inches- caught on 6-weight fly rod.

Yeah, you heard right- a 6-weight fly rod. No I don’t make a habit of hunting huge fish on super light tackle; this was purely an accident. When big bass are a likely bet, hand me my trusty 10-weight. But that said for the last two years I have been having a blast, fishing for school size bass and blues with a 6-weight. And those experiences proved to me that when used properly a “salty six” is not only an effective tool- it’s pure excitement as well.

Don’t confuse a saltwater six with its freshwater counterpart. A “salty six” is a different smoke. Werner Catsman, general manager of Scott Rods, put it this way. “Our saltwater six-weight is not just a souped up freshwater rod. We designed it with saltwater type tapers, thicker walls, and a wider diameter as well. It’s built to do the job.” Freshwater 6-weights are typically designed to cast short to moderate distances, and have the action necessary to protect lighter tippets. A saltwater six-weight has a good deal more backbone, and is capable of casting the entire fly line. It also is equipped for the salt scene with a fighting butt, larger guides and corrosion proof hardware.

Mine rod is an older Scott STS and I love it, but many rod manufactures build six weights for the brine. Here’s a partial list. Orvis has one in their TLS series and one in their attractive T3 series. Sage has at least two, their top of the line 697-4 TCR and their 690-4 xi2. Scott offers their fine S3s 906-4. Temple Fork’s TiCrx 609-4TX looks like a good bet for the brine. Thomas & Thomas has 6-weights suited for the salt in both their Helix and Horizon series. Winston has one in their high-tech Boron iix 6-weight, in either 9’ or 9’6”.

Unfortunately I haven’t cast all of them; so I can’t tell you how they stack up. Recently I did get a chance, however, to catch a few stripers on the saltwater version of Sage’s high-end TCR 6-weight. Like the Scott, this rod is very nice, light in the hand, yet able to fire off the gobs of line. The two rods have different actions, and are in different price ranges. I have also sight-fished for stripers with St. Croix’s Imperial Elite 10’ 6-weight. It too is fine casting machine and I found the extra length a bonus in picking up and mending line. Assuming the rest of the 6-weight pack supplies additional variety, regardless of your casting style, or your budget there is a “salty six” out there just you.

Common sense tells you that a 6-weight has some real limitations. No you can’t ask them to lift chunky critters out of the depths, nor can you go prying big fish out of a rip. Avoid white-knuckle adventures, please. As the adage goes, “use enough gun”. In fact where the water is over 15 feet deep, and wherever the current is cranking, my “six” stays in the rod tube. In the same vein, I don’t use my 6-weight where fish have to be steered away from sharp obstacles such as piling and bridge abutments. And of course, when the wind is howling, or when big heavy flies are the right medicine, the 6-weight gets left at home.

So where do you use a “salty six”? They shine in skinny protected waters where the fish are running around five pounds and rarely reaching ten. That translates into shallow bays and coves, flats, salt ponds, lagoons, tidal creeks, and some coastal rivers. All told that’s quite a bit of angling. And points out how versatile these rods really are. Given their lightweight, these rods make long sessions of blind casting a breeze; you’ll fish for hours and hours without tiring. Still blind casting isn’t their strongest suit. A “salt six” is a sight-fishing gem. A 6-weight line lands on the water like a leaf, permitting you to make delicate presentations that fool even spooky fish. Try it some time. And while I’m sure they work on northeast flats, I asked Chico Fernandez how “sixes” fair in southern salty waters. Here’s what he had to say. “Six-weights are my favorite weight rod for tailing bones or redfish with small flies and super calm days.”

Six-weights have long been popular rod in freshwater, and therefore not all 6-weight fly lines are made with saltwater in mind. Thirty-foot, weight forward tapers maybe fine for trout fishing, but you want at least a 40-foot taper in the brine. And opt for lines incorporating the latest coatings intended to increase distance. A floating line and a clear intermediate should suffice. Still if you looked in my gear bag, you would find I carry a spool with a sinking line. What’s up with that? There are times in shallow water when you need to deliver the fly right to the bottom. In the early spring and late fall, for example, striped bass stay low and you either deliver the goods right in their face or you don’t get a bite. With a floating line I use a 9’ leader tapered to a 10-pound tippet. With a clear intermediate I do the same but shorten things up to 7’ or 8’. And with a sinking line I simplify things further. A straight 5-foot section of 10 or 12-pound test is all you need.

Casting a 6-weight is fun, as long as you don’t tie on too large a fly. I rely on patterns in sizes 2-6, and occasionally I’ll chuck a size 1. These smaller irons hold fish very well - landed that big bass on one- and are perfect for matching juvenile forage fish, shrimp, worms, and other small prey. Yes you can launch a 1/0 Deceiver, but consider this. A 1/0 Deceiver with a small epoxy head tips the scales at about 16 grains. I tie a Deceiver almost as long on a 2# hook. And “sans’ epoxy it’s a svelte 9 grains. Smoother to cast and I can chuck it a farther too. That’s the way to go. Be very careful with weighted flies, especially if you use a 200-grain Teeny-type sinking line. Remember the first 30 feet of a standard 6-weight is 160 grains so the rod is already overloaded. A full dressed 1/0 Clouser, for instance, would add another 30 grains. Too much. A size 4# Clouser is just half that.

Fighting the Fish

In shallow water you don’t have to fight fish straight up and down, but you still have to stop fish from burning across the horizon. So you best understand how to use a fly rod effectively. Having taught saltwater fly-fishing for years I know first hand that some anglers, including some with experience - do not know how to proper pressure a strong fish even with a 10-weight fly rod. That’s not a dig; it’s just good old reality. Obviously a 6-weight is going to compound the problem. Instead of stopping a fish after one or two runs, the fish makes four or more. Now that fish is totally exhausted and difficult to released alive and well.

In my classes, we rig up a 10-weight rod and then pull out 60 or so feet of line. I tie a loop in the end of the tippet and attach a spring scale. Holding the scale to the ground I ask an angler to pick up the rod and then pinch the fly line tight to the cork grip. Next I ask the student to bend the rod as they would when fighting a fish. Many anglers invariably feel they are creating 10 pounds of force at the tippet. Imagine their faces when I tell them the scale reports under a pound. It’s an eye opener to say the least.

Here’s the problem. When fighting a fish many anglers hold the rod high, so the bend in the rod looks similar to a “J”. Essentially they’re fighting fish off the upper third of the blank. This method generates very little pressure. It may work with a very small fish, but a big fish is going to give you serious trouble. You must bend the rod through the middle; that’s where the power of the rod lies.

How do you do it? Let’s go back to the classroom example. Hold the rod at your side waist high with the tip pointed directly at the scale. Reel up any slack. Now pinch the line to the grip and without bending your wrist lift the rod upwards using only your bicep. Note the parabolic shape the rod takes on. Note too, that the tip-top and the first few snake guides are all in a straight line pointed at the fish. When done this way a 10-weight rod quickly generates 2-3 pounds of pressure and in the hands of an expert it can be made to reach 4 or 5. A 6-weight saltwater fly rod will not match those numbers, but it can create 1 to 1.25 pounds of force. That may not sound like a lot, but for fish less than 10 pounds a steady pound of pull is a workout indeed.

Lastly let me pass along a few more tips. Never set the hook with the rod tip, it’s far too light. Set the hook with the line. Next, some casters are in the habit of driving a saltwater fly rod pretty hard. Back off a bit, pushing a 6-weight wouldn’t get you any more distance and accuracy suffers. If you need more distance, try lengthening your casting stroke. A 6-weight can’t take the rough handling a 10-weight is capable of enduring. So take your time doing the normal operations such as stringing the rod it up and be sure to place it in the tube when not in use.

Secured horizontally under the gunwale, these 6-weights seem to do just fine, but in a vertical rod holder their lightweight makes them more prone to bouncing around and possibly jumping free. Securing them well. When driving from spot to spot I put rods in a rack on the roof of my Jeep. Underway the tip of a 10-weight doesn’t sway much, but the six’s tip deflects more and can whip about wildly in a crosswind. So went traveling any distance on the highway, I prefer to put the six inside the truck. Compared with its larger counterparts, the 1^st stripping guide on a 6-weight is relatively small and may have trouble passing tangles. So avoid heavy tippets, a strong fish charging off could flatten a guide. Hope to see on the shoreline.

“A Salty Six”

Fighting the Fish