If you think it’s because of the preponderance of green, or the gold tinsel rib, or because the river’s full of them and they’re about this size, or exactly seven turns of lead, or the dark barred grizzly collar, or the sun being off the water, or whatever you insist makes your fly an absolute killer, you’ve developed an original and possibly valid theory.
… and you’ve every right to insist on respect, as conjecture on why fish ate something can never be validated via direct testimonial, and therefore remains untested and inviolate.
In all of recorded angling only a single such theory has been elevated to fact, as it can be proven without testimonial. A single theory whose outcome can be predicted with uncanny accuracy, as it’s roots are in base math – removed from fishing taint entirely.
“I caught all my fish on a #16 Adams.” ( I only carry one fly with me, it’s a #16 Adams, and it’s the only fly I tied on during the entire day, but its legendary killing power is a secret known only to me, hence my utter confidence in the fly.)
Most of your pals lose interest immediately, as your fly is at best successful only due to math, and not to any innate quality of the local insect population, or weakness of the native trout.
It’s the Fool’s Gold theorem, and any fly can be imbued with killing qualities if fished long enough. It is best practiced in the final phases of an angling career – in concert with sunlit benches and the welcome embrace of a couch.
Mostly it means the practitioner is unwilling to countenance change or variation at any level, doesn’t realize that whether the Adams chose him – or he chose the Adams, (A+B=B+A) the end result is the same.
… and he likes baseball, as every baseball fan knows …
“Never ‘fuck’ with a winning streak.”
“I caught all my fish on a #16 Adams.”
Must have been fishing the Smokies…
This issue – – an eternal mystery – – deserves a book, not a few paragraphs. Some of us, for whatever reason, don’t get out enough and revert to only one or two proven patterns out of, yes, fear. Fear of the unknown and unknowable. Example: say you’re out on one of your short, all-too-infrequent trips and fishing along with the aforementioned Adams. And picking up a few fish here and there. Risk analysis takes over: keep fishing with the Adams or risk the change to Pattern B, which might be better or, gulp, might be worse. Let’s say you are a gambler and change to Pattern B, while starting to sweat under your arms. How many fishless casts do you make before you say bad words and re-knot the Adams? Six? Ten? A hundred? Now you’ve wasted 20 minutes of your precious time on the water. Panic, fear, loss of confidence come rushing in. A few more casts? What am I doing? How could I be so stupid? All I know is that if I had more time, I’d fish a lot more flies.
Craig, you can’t have the book. Then everyone will know what you know and completly empty your stream of life. Your first assumption, relating to time: The amount of time spent fishing is not deducted from the span of your life. It merely increases the likelyhood of your divorce. Bad words are the refuge of the ignorant. You need to get edumacated. You need to hire a guide and then ask him to explain to you his decision process. No one likes to be the city boy in the woods but a guide knows when to switch from dry to wet flys and you need to know why. Is it possible that you are not buying your flys or tippet at the local fly shop, not because you need’em but because you need local knowledge. Maybe your not lookin at the rocks along the shoreline. Possibly, you haven’t turned any over to see what’s underneath. You have certainly have heard of matching the hatch, but whats on or under the water when there is no hatch,ants? When you reach for a #16 Adams… it’s only because thats what matches what the fish desire. Fly fishing is an artful display of past scientific deductions you applied to outsmarting the massive intellect of a fish. Risk analysis does not apply.
No Book, we fish different streams.
Craig has given a plausible explanation of the phenomenon – and as he didn’t start the piece with “I know this guy ..” we’ll assume it’s a true confessional.
He’s well on the path to recovery.
Igneous,
You may or may not have understood what I was saying – – I can’t tell. My point was, and to continue the mathematical bent of this topic: If you are catching a certain number fish (N) on a particular “go-to” pattern (match-the hatch, generalistic, whatever), what compels a person to change flies? Aside from a pure love of knot-tying, you change flies to, hopefuully, increase catch rate to N + Y. However, there are two possible outcomes: 1) you start catching N + Y fish, as desired, or 2) you start catching N – Y fish. Each outcome has a certain probability attached to it. If you have abundant time on the stream, you may be willing to risk that the probability of outcome 1 > outcome 2. However, if you have precious little time on your hands, then you may opt to stand pat and continue catching N fish, for fear that the probability of outcome 1 < outcome 2. This is the ultimate in risk reduction = dance wit her dat brang ya. Nobel laureate John Nash had this all worked out in game theory, although I think the fly he used in his differential equations was a size 18 PMD instead of an Adams.