Abbie Schuster doesn’t really do “still.” As a captain in Martha’s Vineyard, fly shop owner, mom of two toddlers, and vocal advocate for conservation and community, she’s always in motion, kind of like swift-moving bonito and false albacore she guides for every fall. In a world that often underestimates women on the water, Abbie has carved out her space not by demanding it, but by earning it—day in, day out, one cast at a time. With a fierce work ethic, infectious energy, and all-around great vibe, she’s become a pillar of her home fishery and a force in the broader fly fishing community.
Abbie started her guide service, Kismet Outfitters, in 2016 out of Edgartown, before opening a brick-and-mortar shop in 2020. Since then, her store has become a place that encourages everyone to get outside and go fish. Kismet Outfitters is a space where questions are celebrated, beginners are uplifted, and stewardship is front and center. I sat down with Abbie to talk about her journey as a woman on the water, and how it’s flowed into a career of inclusivity, advocacy, and downright, damn-good fishing.
Can you tell us about your background—growing up in New England, your time at the University of Montana, and how you found your path to guiding?
Abbie: I grew up in Connecticut and started fly fishing on the Farmington River and in Martha’s Vineyard with my dad—my grandma lived here year-round, so we were out here all the time. Then, I transferred to the University of Montana for college, and that’s where I learned you could become a guide professionally. Here, I went to Sweetwater Guide School and started guiding, working in fly shops through school. And from there, I just kept doing it—I worked in Alaska and then in Seattle for Emerald Water Anglers, and it was great. But I passionately missed East Coast fishing and the fishery I grew up with. So, I came home and started Kismet in 2016 and opened the fly shop in 2020.
What makes Martha’s Vineyard so special?
Abbie: It’s so, so fun. Even though I guide here every day, I never burn out because every day is so different. We have stripers from April through November, and there are so many ways to fish for them—the striped bass in the rips versus the fish on the flats are almost two different fish. Then, the bluefish come in around the end of June. In the late summer and fall, we have bonito and false albacore. Every day is just so different and dynamic. The Vineyard is unique, too, because it’s very accessible for shore anglers. You don’t need a boat to fish it—it’s really accessible for everyone.
Have you faced any challenges as a woman in the fly fishing world? How have you navigated them?
Abbie: When I was in college and my early 20s, I felt like people didn’t take me seriously. As a small, young blonde woman, I constantly had to prove my competence. There were more women guiding out west than in the east, for sure, but breaking into the industry wasn’t easy.
Then, when I returned to New England to guide, it was really hard to break into this community. Even though I grew up coming here and considered it my “home fishery,” I didn’t feel very welcome. Clients respected me more than when I was in college—I was older at this point and more established, but it took a long time for me to earn respect from the locals, and it bothered me for so long. I was the first female captain in Edgartown in a long time, and that made people skeptical.
My strategy was to put on imaginary “horse blinders” to put my head down and cut out distractions. I worked hard, didn’t engage with drama, and let my skills speak for themselves.
Now, it’s much better since I’m more part of the community and have established myself.
Do you think other female guides have had similar experiences?
Abbie: Yes, I think women have to prove themselves where men don’t. Sometimes I still feel like people don’t take me seriously compared to men, even with my knowledge of the fishery, running boats, or equipment. At trade shows, I’ve seen people automatically assume that my husband, Justin—who’s amazing, but who’s been guiding way less than I have—owns the business or is the only one in our partnership who knows how to fish. It’s very weird.
This was a big drive for starting a fly shop where everyone is welcome and no one feels judged. Kismet is an open environment. There are no stupid questions, and I treat everyone equally. I want this to be a community where everyone can walk into the store—kids, women, old men—and everyone’s treated with respect and excitement to build this amazing sport.
Tell me more about your guiding ethos. How do you integrate stewardship into your trips, and why is that so important to you?
Abbie: On top of inclusivity, the other thing I really hammer down on is conservation. We don’t keep any stripers, regardless if the client wants to or not. At Kismet, we have a deep understanding of what’s going on in the striped bass fishery, so we can talk to clients about it. And I find if someone wants to keep a striper, all I have to do is explain why we don’t, and they’re totally on board with throwing them back. As a guide, you have a responsibility to teach the client not only how to fish, but also about the resource we’re so lucky to use, and why we have to protect it.
Why stripers, specifically?
Abbie: The striper population has fallen before, and big actions were taken. Now, there’s even more pressure since recreational fishing has grown so much, but the population can bounce back if they’re protected. My quick spiel is that one fish isn’t just one fish—it could be a mama fish that can possibly lay a ton of eggs for future generations. That includes the smaller schoolies, too—without them, we won’t have a next generation to fish at all. One fish isn’t just one fish; it really does make a difference.
When we’re guiding, we care for all the different class sizes as best as we can, and keep them wet as long as possible. If folks are taking a photo, it’s a quick two-second snap, and the fish immediately goes back in the net (you should always fish with a net so you don’t have to handle them that much).
Martha’s Vineyard is a small island—how do you stay connected to your community?
Abbie: The community here is really amazing. We try to do at least two women’s events a month, like casting clinics and fly-tying events. I wanted to carve out a space just for women since co-ed spaces can be intimidating, especially for beginner anglers. We also work with a group on the Vineyard to do beach cleanups and give back since we use the beaches so frequently. It’s a great community out here, and if you give to the community, it gives back to you.
What advice do you have for women who want to get into the sport?
Abbie: Don’t be intimidated—you have every right to be on the water or in a fly shop as much as anyone else. Find other women to get out with that you connect with and who support you. I think one of the best things about the women’s events we’ve hosted is hearing about the genuine connections women have made there. This winter, I kept getting photos of women traveling the world and fishing together with friends they met at this two-hour event—I just got chills saying that. That’s really amazing to see.
And remember to just have fun, that’s what I always tell people. We’re not doing brain surgery; we are literally swinging a stick and string in the air. Some days, the fishing will suck, the wind will suck, the tides will suck, but at least you’re out there appreciating where you are! It’s okay if your cast sucks—who cares? It’s a lifetime sport; eventually, it’s going to click. Keep getting out there, stick with it, and have fun.
What gear do you never leave the dock without?
Abbie: Fishpond bags all the way for me. I’ve had my Fishpond backpack for probably 10 guide seasons now—it’s always stuffed with extra layers since I always get cold—and I’m borderline abusive to it. I leave it in my yard, on my boat, and it’s held up great. I’ve traveled all over the world with my Fishpond duffel, too.
And then I use Thomas & Thomas fly rods. Their Sextant rod is my favorite, in a 9- or 10-weight. In the fall, I almost always use a 10-wt because bonitos and albies don’t have swim bladders, so I want to get them to the boat as fast as possible so they survive. The Sextant is super lightweight; I can cast a 10-wt all day, no problem.
In the spirit of serious journalism, if you were a fish, what fish would you be?
Abbie: Well, I would want to be a striper because they’re so poised and mature, but I’m probably more of an albie. They’re high-energy and never stop moving and are maybe a little crazy, which might sum me up more than an elegant striper.
What about a fly?
Abbie: I would definitely be a pink squid fly. They have tons of glitter and glam. I love the way they jump out of the water and rule the roost—they appear when you don’t think they should. Yeah, I’m definitely a squid fly.
Any parting words?
Abbie: Always use me as a resource, especially if you’re a woman. I think the women in this industry are great, and the big thing that’s changed is that we help each other out more rather than tearing each other down. Any woman who has questions or problems or wants help on the water, I’m here.