Fly Tying, an Optimist’s Pastime

I was thinking the other day about fly-tying. It was the pesky article about “Yobs with Blobs” and the comments from other fly fishermen that started me mulling it over.

Here is the thing; every fly we tie is imbued with the hope that it is the killer, the irresistible, the one that no fish can refuse.
I have yet to take a fly out of the vise with out feeling a little bit of hope; maybe optimism is a better word, that this is the fly that will make my season.
-

-

I first started tying flies close to thirty years ago. It goes through phases but basically now I’ll just tie what I need for a trip, usually the night before.
I have my favourite patterns minimized to a point that they are virtually unrecognizable to other fishermen. Mind you, if I am tying to give some flies to another fisherman I will follow the recipes exactly, but for myself- not so much.
-

-
As an example, knowing a certain river has a run of salmon that favour the colour yellow, I will tie a handful of Blue Charms but substitute all of the blue bits for a bright, lemon yellow.

-

-

-

-

That is because I like the way a Blue Charm fishes but know that for whatever reason, yellow will elicit a strike where the blue gets looked over, even followed, but strikes are seldom immediate.

The funny thing is that I say this stuff as though it was 100% true but I don’t really know. Is it apparently true because I fish as though it were true; or is it really true, about the yellow bits I mean?

Does that make any sense? Who knows? What I do know is that everyone who ties flies stops at some point and thinks,” This might be the one”

Fly Tying Bench Therapy

 Well its dark and cold and time to start the struggle against my usual winter blues.

 I’ve been thinking a lot about salmon flies lately, so will get set-up to tie a handful of Blue charms. This is one of my favorite flies to tie, probably because it is one of my favorites to fish.

In the last couple of years I’ve been tying it in all sizes from # 16 to # 4 but the one that works best for me on any given day is a sparse #12 with a couple of strands of crystal flash in the wing.

I first saw the flash added to conventional flies during a trip Gander a few years ago.

 It changed our trip from average to outstanding. Since then, if I’m tying up a handful of whatever pattern I’ll always add a bit of flash to two or three of them.

I did some research on the Blue Charm out of curiosity, to see where it came from and who originated it but so far am no wiser.

 It is one of those patterns that just seems to have always been around in one form or another.

 I did an experiment last year where I tied a couple of Blue Charms in every colour of floss I had in my kit. I followed the recipe exactly but changed the body colour.

Another variation is tying the classic pattern but with different coloured tags. The resultant flies are very pretty but I have not used them enough to announce a new killer Salmon pattern.

I can say with confidence that a Blue Charm tied with a red body and two strands of crystal flash in the wing is a phenomenal trout fly for fast water. That aside, the idea behind changing the body colour was simple.

 I was fishing not long ago on a local river when a fellow hollered across the stream to his buddy, who was fast into a grilse, “ What are they taking?” The reply was, “Anything yellow”.

I could digress into a great fishing story here but I’ll stick to the point. Part of the lore of salmon fishing is the colour preference different runs on different rivers have. It is part of the precious local knowledge that strangers usually have to learn the hard way.

They don’t call salmon, “ The Fish of a Thousand Casts” for nothing.

I have in the back of my mind the rivers and their colours and can rhyme off an ever-increasing list: The Medway - orange, the St Mary’s – green, the Phillip –yellow and so on. The colours sometimes change from spring to fall, from year to year and even from grilse to salmon. Heck, it may not even be true but I try to match the preferred colour for the river, run and season when putting my first fly through a pool.

 Now, with that in mind, another thing I think is that certain fly patterns work better than others just because of the way they are designed and built. The Blue Charm is one of these.

Putting these separate trains of thought together, it makes sense to me that a fly design that is proven but tied in the particular, preferred colours of the run you are fishing should have a pretty good chance.

In my mind there will come a day when a fresh run of fish has just hit the pool. Nothing seems to work until one of us remembers that the fish on this river prefer a particular shade of chartreuse that I just happen to have because of this wacky experiment. Well, one can dream.

The reality is, I’ll have to tie a few more this winter because even though I have not had the chance to try many over salmon, salmon fishermen really seem to go for them.

Fall Salmon Fishing in Nova Scotia Means Big Fish

There is nothing like bragging about a big fish to almost guarantee getting one-upped.

Check out these pictures from H.R. Dobson of a fall–run salmon. This fish was caught last year.

Big Nova Scotia Salmon

He is holding the fly in his right hand but it is suspiciously out of focus. I can just make out a yellow tag but can’t see what the fly is. Darn. I’d be working like a demon at the tying bench this winter to put a handful of those in my kit.

A few days after he told me he’d caught this phenomenal salmon, knowing there were big fish in, I headed to the river.

None of the usual suspects could get away so I went alone. As usual I started fishing far above the pool, working the undercut banks. Taking a couple of casts then a step I worked my way along toward my favourite pool.

Fish on!

I was using the same rod and line set up I’d last used on a trip to Newfoundland earlier in the year. I was even using the same fly, still tied on from the last cast of that trip.

I know, I know; I should have tied on a new leader or at the very least checked all of the knots. I was just too impatient to get on the water.

So instead of a #4 Cardinal or Ally’s Shrimp, I was casting a #12 Blue Charm with just a couple of Crystal Flash fibers tied into the hair wing.

Within minutes I was firmly into a two sea-winter fish. I got one other as I approached the pool.

There were a few fellows working slowly into the main holding area so I just walked around them and went back into the river about a hundred yards past the pool.

The water was deep and fast as I gingerly shuffled along the bottom. I was searching with my feet for the submerged gravel bar that angled across the river making it possible to wade to the other side and fish the undercuts on this bank.

It was getting pretty deep.

As I became more buoyant my footing became less secure against the pounding current. I looked back to see if I had reached the point of no return or should retreat.

At that moment, out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw the back fin of a large salmon about five feet away, slightly above and in back of me.

I wasn’t sure it was a fish but I unhooked my fly from the keeper and with the just the line hanging out of the rod tip flicked the fly over the spot.

The fly landed sloppily and didn’t move more than a couple of inches when an enormous head poked out of the water and slowly took the fly.

Nova Scotia Fall Salmon

There was no turn or slashing strike, it simply engulfed the tiny fly then sank from sight. I couldn't believe it had really happened.

I didn’t set the hook, just held the line in positive contact with the fish.

I was in a bad situation. Barely able to keep my feet and Jimmy-legging my way along the submerged bank until mercifully, the water began to get a little shallower.

I was holding light pressure against the fish, feeding line as needed. As I felt my weight come back on my feet I re-tightened my drag and started looking for a place to play what had looked like the fish of a lifetime when he took.

About five feet from the shore with my feet well set on gravel I deliberately set the hook. Then remembering I was using a tiny fly compared to the usual fall rig, I set it again.

That’s when all Hell broke loose. The salmon roared up out of the black water and thrashed in mid-air before falling on his back with a tremendous splash.

His first run was short, ending in another nerve shattering jump. The fish played in short, powerful runs all ending in spectacular leaps. He never took me into my backing.

The runs gradually slowed. The leaps had less and less height until they were just swirls and boils on the end of the line.

I really didn’t have clue how to land this fish. I’d never tailed a lunker like this single handedly.

It turned out to be fairly straightforward. As soon as I got his head up I just raised the rod bringing the fish towards me like a torpedo. As he turned away from me I slid my hand along his back and the wrist of the tail was too big for me to miss.

The problem then was that I couldn’t reach the fly to un-hook and still hold his tail. I ended up having to grab the leader and pull the fish towards me until I had the fly in hand. A quick twist and he was gone.

I don’t know how big that salmon was, probably not as big as I think but it was an amazing experience. I climbed out of the water, vibrating with excitement and walked back to my truck.

That was enough for the day. I love Fall Salmon fishing in Nova Scotia.