Tony Capecchi

Writing about fishing is a great way to relive the glory (or process the regret) and, since age 18, Tony Capecchi has been chronicling his angling adventures for national magazines, including In-Fisherman and North American Fisherman. He has co-hosted “Live Outdoors” on WCCO Radio, worked on The History Channel’s “MonsterQuest” and served as web editor for Minnesota Bound and North American Hunter.

A Fisherman’s Once-in-a-Lifetime Moment

Posted by: Tony Capecchi under Fishing Updated: August 17, 2012 - 8:48 AM
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First comes loves, then comes marriage, then comes baby in the baby carriage … and then comes a new addiction to muskie fishing? If beginning a quest to catch North America’s most elusive freshwater fish right after the birth of your first child sounds like odd timing to you, don’t tell Waconia’s Ryan Naughton.
 
Better yet, don’t tell his wife.
 
Naughton, a lifelong Minnesota bass fanatic, caught the muskie bug bad a couple years ago after a friend took him for his first day chasing ’skis. “We didn’t see a single fish all day, and then just as we were coming off the lake a 14-year-old girl in a nearby boat caught a 45-inch hog and that fish got in my head,” Naughton recalls.
 
That winter, Naughton scoured fishing articles on the fish of 10,000 casts. Then he went on a buying spree since he didn’t have any muskie gear. He even dubbed the upcoming fishing season as his “Year of the Muskie.” But before the muskie season arrived, Naughton’s life changed forever when his wife, Mollie, gave birth to the couple’s first child in March.
 
 
William Ryan Naughton weighed 7-pounds, 3-ounces when he was born on March 16 (about a pound heavier than Ryan’s biggest bass ever). Congratulations to the new parents poured in, along with quite a few questions--mainly directed to Mollie--asking if Ryan would still be pursuing his mission for muskies in just a few months.
 
“Everybody said I’m crazy since muskie fishing is so time consuming and requires such long hours just to see a fish,” Ryan says. But when muskie opener rolled around, he was on the water for his first day of chasing muskies in his own boat with his own gear.
 
He threw on a Super Shad Rap and -- wouldn't you know it -- no more than 30 casts in he had a follow. “I watched this huge muskie attack my bait, miss, and then swim away. I was devastated and hooked at the same time.”
 
 
Welcome to muskie fishing, Ryan.
 
Only muskie fishing is a bit different as a new dad. “Fortunately, I have a wife who is very understanding,” admits Ryan, noting that he even managed to squeeze in deep sea fishing during his honeymoon in Aruba. “But I do try to leave to go fishing before she’s even awake.” After all, isn’t easier to ask for forgiveness than permission?
 
Of course, Ryan takes being a dad very seriously, too. He’s already brought William out fishing with him, and says his son loves to watch. “I already have a rod for him, so whenever’s he ready to do some bobber fishing, I’ll gladly help him out.”
 
Besides, catching some panfish might help Ryan’s fishing reputation at home. His wife is used to fishing for bass and panfish, so the fact that all of Ryan’s muskie fishing and expensive lures have yet to produce … err, well, a muskie, baffles her. “Whenever I go out and don’t catch a muskie, she thinks it’s because I’m a terrible fisherman,” Ryan says. “She just doesn’t understand the challenge of catching these fish. When I get excited about having a follow, she doesn’t get it.”
 
“You didn’t even catch one fish?” Mollie says with a laugh. “What’s wrong with you?” 
 
Ryan learned some tricks from well-known Twin Cities guide Gary Klinger, owner of Big Dog Guide Service, to help the cause in his quest for muskies..

Ryan learned some tricks from well-known Twin Cities guide Gary Klinger, owner of Big Dog Guide Service, to help the cause in his quest for muskies..

 
Ryan with his biggest bass of the season, caught on a Rapala Clackin' Minnow.

Ryan with his biggest bass of the season, caught on a Rapala Clackin' Minnow.

The Michael Jordan of Fishing

Posted by: Tony Capecchi under Recreation, Fishing, Travel Updated: July 23, 2012 - 10:34 PM
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Name any fisherman out there, and Larry Dahlberg is better. That’s not according to me; it’s according to all the biggest names in fishing––from the top pros, to the savviest outdoor writers, to the diehard guides who spend 300 days a year on the water. I asked them all “Who’s the best in the world?” And the answer was overwhelming.

Dahlberg’s the undisputed champ not because he’s caught fish in every far-flung corner of the globe––landing trophies in more than 86 countries––but because even in those countries I can’t pronounce or place on a map (like Sao Tome, Africa and Suriname, South America) Dalhberg’s caught fish when the local guides couldn’t. No matter where he goes, he simply knows how to hook 'em.

And so, when I waited to meet the man at a muskie expo where I’d heard whispers he might appear, I expected to see a character from Joseph Conrad’s “Heart of Darkness” burst through the doors, wearing a necklace of tiger fangs or lugging a pair of elephant tusks on his back. Not so. Instead, I had to strain to see the diminutive Dahlberg as broad-shouldered muskie anglers clamored around the legend who conquers the object of their excitement, the notoriously fussy muskellunge, with a fly he invented.

He revolutionized fly-fishing, in fact, by inventing dozens of flies, the first of which was inspired by dropping tinsel while helping his mother decorate a Christmas tree.

His father was harsh. He refused to take Dahlberg fishing until the boy could cast a big muskie lure across the yard, under a bar on the swing set and into a small box eight out of ten times. After a summer of relentless practice, Dahlberg developed deadly accuracy, passed the test and was allowed on adventures down the St. Croix River … as a rower.

By age 11, Dahlberg was guiding clients and bucking conventional wisdom with his homemade flies that caught more and bigger bass than any bait the river had ever seen. In-Fisherman offered him every angler’s dream job, but he bolted to feed his insatiable appetite to chase exotic fish across the world. He self-funded the first two demo episodes of his now-famous “The Hunt for Big Fish” TV show on his credit card before ESPN picked it up 16 years ago; then Dahlberg began whipping around the world at a pace of 350,000 miles a year.

He’s caught more than 50 line-class world records, including a 220-pound Nile perch that may still be the largest freshwater bony fish ever caught on a hook and line. His daring bravado and obsessive desire to overcome insurmountable obstacles by sheer force of will beg comparison to Teddy Roosevelt. But even Roosevelt wasn’t this crazy.

Dahlberg’s tangled with tarpon off the Western coast of Gabon, Africa. He’s tamed wolf fish with a fly rod in Suriname, South America. He’s battled sailfish on the volcanic island of Principe, a 136 square-kilometer dot in the Atlantic Ocean where Albert Einstein’s Theory of Relativity was proven true during an eclipse in 1919. Dahlberg’s dramatic flair and exotic escapades inspire everyday anglers to consider the unfathomable. It is, perhaps, his greatest accomplishment. 

And yet, he remains modest––unwilling to call himself the best angler alive, but very willing to welcome me into his home near the St. Croix River to talk about fishing and faraway places. As we stood in front of his private pond, where he tests out his newest fishing lures, I asked him a somber question: Does he ever feel his life in danger when he’s in some God-forsaken country with not much more than a fishing pole? “When I’m out there fishing,” he said, “I feel invisible.”

I thought back to the first time I met Dahlberg, at Josh Stevenson’s Blue Ribbon Bait & Tackle muskie expo. When I wiggled my way to the front of the crowd to shake his hand, I couldn’t help but wonder, ‘How in the heck does this little guy catch all these colossal fish?’

“I only weigh 170 pounds,” admitted Dahlberg, a damn good guitar player and gymnast who’s caught 8-foot Amazon catfish. “You have to think like the Egyptians. Use your mind, not your muscle.” Then off he went, explaining intricate details about leverage and angles and physics to fishermen who nodded eagerly. I laughed. Physics and logic? Dahlberg defies such rules.

Apparently Dahlberg understands the laws of nature, he simply chooses to ignore them.

 

Dahlberg and metro guide Josh Stevenson caught 100 muskies while fishing together in just 1 year alone (nobody said life was fair). “Larry thinks on an entirely different level than other fisherman,” said Stevenson (www.mightmusky.com). “He has unmatched fishing experience with an incredible ability to compare bodies of water from around the world and understand fish movements better than anyone.”

Dahlberg and metro guide Josh Stevenson caught 100 muskies while fishing together in just 1 year alone (nobody said life was fair). “Larry thinks on an entirely different level than other fisherman,” said Stevenson (www.mightmusky.com). “He has unmatched fishing experience with an incredible ability to compare bodies of water from around the world and understand fish movements better than anyone.”

 

Dahlberg and his fishing buddy, metro guide Josh Stevenson, caught 100 muskies while fishing together in just 1 year alone (nobody said life was fair). “Larry thinks on an entirely different level than other fisherman,” said Stevenson (www.mightmusky.com). “He has unmatched fishing experience with an incredible ability to compare bodies of water from around the world and understand fish movements better than anyone.”

Fishing with Dad

Posted by: Tony Capecchi under Family activities, Family, Fishing Updated: June 14, 2012 - 12:17 AM
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Of all the ways a boy can learn to fish, nothing beats a father. And yet, the earliest memory I have of fishing with my dad is painful.
 
I was at the age when chasing minnows in a bucket was endlessly entertaining, and we were fishing from shore at a neighborhood pond when a bumblebee landed on my thumb. A second later, a sunfish yanked my bobber underwater. I set the hook, and the bee promptly stung me.
 
I turned in tears to my dad, who, as always, had a remedy to make me feel better. We spent the afternoon trapping bees between pieces of bread we brought to feed the ducks. In the end, revenge was ours.
 
And from then on, I knew: In fishing, as in all of life, my dad had my back.
 
That’s the only time I’ve ever cried while fishing, though a few muskies that got away have brought me close to tears. Dad, too. He always wants me to be the one who catches the trophy; such selflessness prompted him to bait my hook and give me his pole whenever he hooked a good fish for more years than I care to admit.
 
His desire for me to catch fish and be happy––after all, the two go hand-in-hand, right?––is also the driving force behind his obsession with landing my fish. Dad leans so far over the boat when netting any big fish I’m reeling in that I know it’s only a matter of time before he falls overboard.
 
I can’t tease him about his gravity-defying acrobats, though, because one day a 45-inch muskie I was fighting spit the hook just before I brought it within range. Dad lunged out and miraculously netted it in the split-second before it could swim away.
 
But for all our memories of monster fish––we’ve evolved from bluegills and bass to 40-pound catfish, 60-inch sturgeon and Alaskan king salmon––it’s the other moments we cherish the most. Early morning sunrises in the Canadian wild without another boat on the lake. Dense fog in the river valley forcing us to navigate by memory rather than sight. Sneaking up behind a moose as it snacks in a weedy bay, using our trolling motor to inch so close we could practically poke it with a 7-foot rod.
 
 
This year will mark the 10th consecutive year we’ve spent Father’s Day on a Canadian fishing trip at Fireside Lodge. We’ll never forget the year a black bear watched us as we caught a muskie 30 yards from shore. Or the time Dad set his fishing pole down in the boat and accidentally knocked it into the lake (to this day, he claims a fish pulled it overboard). Or the June day that was so windy nobody in camp dared to go out fishing … except for us.

Fact is, we don’t go fishing for fish. We go for the experience. Because when your best friend, father and fishing partner are one in the same, it doesn’t really matter how they’re biting.

 

My dad and me (far right) at Fireside Lodge with the owners and another father-son duo we met at the lodge 10 years ago on our first trip. Their annual trip is always the same week as ours, so we've become fishing buddies.

My dad and me (far right) at Fireside Lodge with the owners and another father-son duo we met at the lodge 10 years ago on our first trip. Their annual trip is always the same week as ours, so we've become fishing buddies.

 

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