By Paul Lebowitz

Gary Bulla discovered the fish-catching combination of the kayak and the fly rod way back in the mid-1980s. If that marks him as something of an old-timer, it also makes him one of Southern California’s true kayak fishing pioneers. 

“They don’t make the kayak I started on anymore,” Bulla said of the venerable Prism, a magic carpet ride that opened a new fishing dimension for him, saltwater style.

“I knew if I had a kayak I could get out there more, and get into places the boats couldn’t take me,” Bulla said of his personal kayak fishing revelation. Bulla fished Santa Barbara harbor a lot in those days, catching calicos and what he termed big white seabass.

“Ok, they were barely legal, but to me at the time they were big,” Bulla said with a laugh.

Chance took him to Baja; his wife’s middle school excursions to view Magdalena Bay’s grey whales. It didn’t take long before Bulla was exploring the nearby fish-filled mangrove channels. “That turned me on to fishing down in Baja,” Bulla recalled.

It proved to be the start of a second career as a fly fishing guide, custom fly tier and public speaker. Nowadays, Gary Bulla’s Fly Fishing Adventures leads groups of fly-flingers to San Jose and Cerralvo, islands isolated among the azure waters of the Cortez. The trips run in the spring and fall, when fish are plentiful and the temperatures more comfortable than the middle of a searing Baja summer.

“A lot of my clients are looking to break into saltwater fly fishing but are looking for more of an adventure than having their hands held,” Bulla explained.

It’s beach camping, but quite deluxe, with a cook whipping up delicious cuisine and a support boat on hand.

Bulla’s kayakers plumb the depths for game both large and small. Like any kayaker, they savor the rush of the sleigh ride.

“We cast right to the edge of the mangroves. It’s a lot like topwater bass fishing,” Bulla explained, describing thrilling explosive strikes from pargo, snapper and snook.

The trip-goers also chase bait balls, and stealthily troll flies through open water to locate fish (something fly fishing purists may frown on, although Bulla considers it sporting for the self-propelled). Other times, they’ll beach the kayaks and fish from otherwise impossible shorelines.

These fish tricks yield splendid variety. “We average about 15 species per trip, it’s different every time,” Bulla said. The gamut includes nearshore battlers such as rooserfish and blue water brutes like yellowfin tuna, yellowtail, and zippy black skipjack.

“We love to catch them,” Bulla said of the skipjack. “They fight extremely hard and tow us around. In a kayak it’s just a blast,” Bulla said.

Since so few people fly fish from kayaks, the perception is its difficult.

“True, it’s a little more challenging. Casting is obviously a big part of presenting a fly,” Bulla said. According to the guide sitting low to the water isn’t a problem. It’s certainly no worse than casting flies from a float tube, a small craft more generally accepted among the fly fishing community.

Conventional kayak anglers might wonder what’s different for their fly fishing brothers. Well?

“I don’t haul nearly as much gear. There’s no bait tank involved. I don’t have multiple rods or even rod holders,” Bulla explained.

Rather than fully rigging out their sleds, kayak fly guys opt for the sleek, uncluttered look. Goodness knows you don’t want any obstructions that can snag the fly line.

THE SLEIGH RIDE IN SIMPLIFIED STYLE – Kayak fly fishing breaks the sport down to its essence. No bait tank, no fishfinder, not even a rod holder. It’s just the angler and the fish. PHOTO COURTESY GARY BULLA

THE MAN AND HIS MOTIVATION – Kayak fly fishing pioneer Gary Bulla poses with a skipjack, just one of the multiplicity of species his San Jose and Cerralvo Island trips encounter. PHOTO COURTESY GARY BULLA

MANGROVE SNAPPER – A Bulla client shows off a snapper caught by tossing flies to the edge of the mangroves. Although Bulla cut his saltwater kayak fishing teeth in Southern California, it was a chance journey to the mangrove channels of Magdalena Bay that really changed his life. PHOTO COURTESY GARY BULLA

Bulla’s go-to kayak is the Ocean Kayak Prowler 13. “It’s a great, clean platform,” Bulla said. It’s so clean, Bulla strips line right on his lap. No stripping basket required.

For anglers who’d like to try kayak fly fishing in Baja saltwater, Bulla recommended a 10-weight rod matched to either 300 or 400 grain sink tip line. Suggested flies are shown on his website GaryBulla.com.

Bulla shared a few more tips meant to ease the way. Long casts make the sink tip far more effective, as the fly will remain in the strike zone longer. Bulla recommended even experienced fly anglers take a casting class if they are new to sinking line.

Landing a large fish might be the most difficult task facing a kayak fly fisher. Fly rods are long and the tips fragile. Bad form can result in the dreaded “snap!”

“We have to hold the butt of the fly rod up over our heads and the opposite side of the kayak, crossways, putting pressure on the lower part of the rod instead of the tip,” Bulla instructed.

Another caution immediately followed. Because large fish often react wildly when they catch sight of the kayak and angler, Bulla keeps a wad of extra line in his hand. “I dump it if the fish surges away,” Bulla added.

Twenty years of saltwater kayak fly fishing later, Bulla is still going strong. “I really enjoy being self-powered,” said Bulla. He doesn’t have much company out there. That seems bound to change. His chosen sport is hopelessly addicting.

“Try it and you won’t go back,” Bulla said with a smile.

Visit Gary Bulla's Fly Fishing Adventures online at www.GaryBulla.com