Category Archives: dyeing

Maple Sugar Tintex, Cal Bird's dyed teal for the Bird's Nest

Maple Sugar Tintex and dogged perseverance

The sight of a box of Maple Sugar Tintex isn’t likely to raise your blood pressure nor cause your heart to flutter, but my recent encounter was cause for an unsightly display of my version of Snoopy’s Happy dance …

Maple Sugar is a color that is no longer made by the Canadian dye maker, Tintex, and is the original color for the dyed Teal Flank that Cal Bird used for the Bird’s Nest. Maple Sugar Tintex, is also an outstanding source of imitation Wood Duck when dyeing Mallard flank as its replacement. Tintex stopped making the color nearly forty years ago without giving us fly tiers a chance to lay in a goodly supply.

After several decades of fruitless searching, garage sales, and similar venues, I’d not been able to turn up some old stock from any source.

Tintex and RIT were both consumer oriented dyes, fixed with salt, that were intended for home use, on curtains, garments, and hosiery. From the 1940’s onward, both RIT and Tintex were available on every store shelf, in every variety store, and nearly all the “Mom and Pop” neighborhood stores. Old school fly tiers, who dyed their own colors to suit local insects requiring custom colors, used both as the “go to” agent for creating materials not readily available.

Both RIT and Tintex have their fixative agent, salt, mixed into the dye powder to make the dye process foolproof. Protein dyes, more commonly used with feathers and fly tying materials, use acid as the fixative, and it is NOT premixed into the dye. Jacquard and similar companies require you to add acid, typically a 5% Acetic (White Vinegar) or 10 % Muriatic (swimming pool acid), into the dye bath to make the color permanent.

Tintex dyes are still made in Canada but many colors have changed and they are no longer in most American stores. RIT won the domestic battle, but even they are only present in a third of their former locations.

Pure stubborn mixed with an elephantine memory allowed me to stumble onto a stash of old Tintex dyes, and it was akin to Harrison Ford glimpsing the Arc of the Covenant … there, gleaming in their aging plasticine wrappers,were five boxes of Maple Sugar, which would be enough to equip a regiment of anglers with teal feathers.

Both RIT and Tintex prepacked boxes dye about a pound of material. More if you will settle for a lighter shade of the color, less if you need it darker. Five boxes means I can dye about two and half kilos of teal flank, which is enough Teal flank to depopulate the Pacific Flyway …

Fishermen are a superstitous lot, with as many metaphysical hangups and superstitions as baseball players and gamblers. NOT owning any teal flank dyed in the original color will NOT make your flies less fearsome, but as success in fly fishing is always due to the angler’s confidence in his fly, your ersatz offering might interest minnows and frogs, while mine …

… … well, I might be going home with the Prom Queen … as it’s my lucky day ..

Free Range Dubbing: Unless you’re looking at it in direct sunlight, you’re not seeing what I made for you

Free Range Label I figure my sudden foray into dubbing was like McDonald’s adding salads to an otherwise lard-based menu. How the lights abruptly dimmed and the sudden demand for lettuce left most of the country rediscovering Broccoli for their evening meal.

Like the gals and their hair extensions, I was unfazed that I emptied most warehouses of everything furry. I started with the wholesale furriers, worked my way through the local stuff and fur coats on eBay, and when I’d exhausted the obvious sources, I’d make the call to my contact at the SPCA to see what was chilling rapidly …

A couple of months worth of effort turned into the better part of a year’s worth of research, failed automation, test groups and test colors, research on color mixing, dyes … and worse, suddenly needing to find vast amounts of odd animals to include once refined to their final formula.

Failed automation meant having to do it all by hand in the kitchen. Meaning it’s been a lonely year – bread, water, and solitary confinement does that to a person …

All of this started off simply enough, a general indifference to the dubbing products available in today’s fly shop, most of which featured some sparkly synthetic as its only real quality. Absent from the shelves are the natural dubbings of the past; crafted to make it easy to apply on thread, or coarse so its stubbled profile resembles something comely, or all natural featuring aquatic mammals to make gossamer thin dry fly bodies.

Instead were pushed towards some glittering turd that is about as easy to dub as a Brillo pad, and sparkles like a perfumed tart.

So I brought the manicured styles back; finding in the process that few tiers are left with the skills to refine dubbing to specific tasks, fewer relay the ritual to print to teach others, and most new tiers are content with products the way they are as they’ve not been exposed to others. It’s as if the qualities of fur and the skills to turn them to our advantage are disappearing.

As mentioned in previous posts on dubbing, there are three distinct layers in a crafted dubbing, allowing you to insert distinct qualities as part of each layer’s construction. I’ve likened dubbing construction to a cigar, where the finished product contains binder, filler, and wrapper.

The Wrapper is the coarsest material, often made of animals with well marked guard hair, suitable for adding spike and shag to the finished blend.

The filler is often the coloring agent, made up of semi-coarse or semi-fine materials that comprise the bulk of the dubbing…

… and the binder is the softest component, which is often added in proportion to the filler and wrapper to hold all three layers together in a cohesive bundle.

Somewhere in all of this can be a fourth layer, not always present, that I call “special effects.” Shiny or sparkle, pearlescent or opalescent, some quality that natural materials lack which can be added to liven it with color or a metallic effect.

Free_Range_Dubbing2

The Free Range Difference

What I’ve constructed is a dubbing designed to assist both beginner and expert tiers by including specific desirable qualities that should belong in any quality nymph dubbing:

Ease of Use: The material isn’t unruly nor possessed of qualities of some Brillo-style gaudy synthetic. The soft binder layer entraps the spiky wrapper and makes dubbing the fur onto the thread easy.

Sized for 8 – 16 hooks: All the fibers present in each color have been sized to best fit your most common sizes of nymphs. That means you won’t be yanking too many overly long fibers out of your dubbing, or off the finished flies, as even the multiple guard hairs used have been chosen for length as well as coloration.

Minimal Shrinkage When Wet: The fibers of the filler layer, which comprise the largest part of the dubbing as well as most of the color, are chosen for their curl, so they will maintain their shape wet or dry, and what proportions leaves your vise will be retained when the fly is soaking wet.

Blended Color versus Monochrome: Each of the colors is the result of between 5 and 11 different materials, each with different shades and tints that add themselves to make the overall coloration. Like Mother Nature, whose insects are never a uniform color, each pinch yields a bit of unique in every fly tied.

Spectral Coloration: The special effects of each are often synthetic spectral color components, containing a range of colors that are sympathetic with the overall blend color.

Only Buggy Colors: We chose to concentrate our colors into traditional insect hues leaving the lightly used colors out of the collection. Most fly tiers have a drawer filled with colors that are rarely used, we’d prefer to focus on the “money” colors like olive and brown.

Rather than a single color of Olive, we’ll offer a half dozen olives – as they’re far more useful than coral pink or watermelon. We’ve done the same for brown and gray, and even added effects to make more than a single black.

Food-based Names: Everyone knows that colors named with food references are twice as tasty to fish. We got’em, they don’t – ’nuff said.

Twice as much: Earlier in the research phase of the project I discovered the average dubbing vendor now only gives you 0.91 of a gram with 2 grams of brightly painted cardboard. I’ll give you a couple grams of goodie, and a biodegradable slip of paper instead …

Free Range Dusky Olive

What it isn’t …

It’s not going to leap onto your thread unassisted, nor will it make your fingers less tacky and curb your propensity to grab too much. It’s not some painted harlot made gaudy by too much color. Special effects are nearly invisible to the eye, representing about 2% of the fiber, and until the fur is moved into direct sunlight, only then can you see the refractive elements that make the mix glow and sparkle.

Naturally once someone says, “ … and the trout see …” Everything past that is a leap of faith. Millions of nice fellows have roused from their cups to pound  table and insist trout love something or other. This entire collection is my sermon on colors and textures, imbued with everything I hold sacred.

Until I can get some automation in place this is more a labor of love than  profit. I managed to incur some fierce loyalties to the end result from many of the folks testing, and with a new season about to debut and them tying to make up for lost time, they’re looking for me to live up to my end of the bargain.

I have 20 colors completed and am planning about 10 additional colors to fill gaps. Most of the Olives and Browns and Grays are completed already, I just need to see what I reach for that isn’t there.

Yes, we’re a bit ahead of our supply lines still, but the season starts next weekend, and I can’t have you feeling naked and resentful. I figure after a couple trips into the season I’ll know exactly what’s missing.

If you would like a sample of the dubbing, drop me a note. I’ll put something in there you’ll like and you can send me a stamped envelope to cover my expenses …

Art Flick or Roy Steenrod would’ve given away the Farm

It’s one of the necks you’ve always heard about, likely never seen and may never see. Fly shops still maintain pecking orders, some small vestiges of times past, but rare colors require blood kinship – as they’ll never make it past the avaricious mitts of the staff.

It’s the Holy Grail of fly tying and most older books devote whole chapters to the quest of securing enough dun hackle to feel contentment. As most of the old timers were conspicuous hoarders, even plenty wasn’t nearly enough.

The sample cape now dry

You’ve substituted for them since you began tying, usually with regular dun and the offshore fly tying companies have done similar. Many legendary flies are no longer true to pattern because the rarer hues of Iron Blue, Bronze, and Honey Dun, still aren’t readily available and certainly not enough to tie the legions of flies needed commercially.

An occasional cape slips into the Whiting mix, but they rarely make it to the street. Once the proprietor and his staff are satiated a rare color begats a phone call to specific patrons – alerting them to their presence.

Dun necks were dyed prior to the advent of genetic hackle. Commercial fly tiers could sort through thousands of India capes to find only an occasional dun, but white and cream were plentiful and many thousands of capes were slipped into gray RIT or TINTEX to satisfy demand.

From the earliest genetic efforts of the Darbee’s and the Catskill coven, Whiting, Hoffman, Metz, and other chicken farmers developed a plentiful supply for the standard light, medium, and dark, dun with most shops now having a regular supply in both neck and saddle.

When the early strains of these birds debuted in the 80’s, the only commercial offering was from the Metz company. Henry Hoffman was still focused on the perfect Grizzly (among other colors) and most of the Dun necks were only half Dun – the feather tips were nicely colored, but the butts were often white.

Fly tiers fought and begged for the necks uniform in color, but only 15% to 20% of a dun shipment were fully colored. The Blue Andalusian strain was also much leaner of barbule, and spreading a feather would show less barbules per inch than the robust breeds like Grizzly, Ginger, or Rhode Island Red.

Those early chickens could tie far fewer flies than those available today.

Dyeing Dun necks often yielded a superior feather, especially when light barred Grizzly or Ginger was used as the base color. Having a few darker strands in a Hendrickson never hurt much, and Metz Ginger necks were plentiful and easy to come by, they’d be last on the rack after the hordes of tiers had picked through everything else.

Those of us willing to risk the $45 were richly rewarded, as we pulled rare colors out of the dye bath, those self-same colors unavailable today.

The Contemplative Angler outlines many shades of Dun and some of the history behind all the variants. There’s little secret to achieving Honey Dun or a good bronze flavor; shell out the $85 for a nicely marked cream or ginger neck and plunk it in a dye bath.

Some of my past pieces on dyeing covers the rudiments of water temperature, color, and dye selection, the rules are the same only the dollar values increase; good preparation, a known dye, and using some rudimentary lessons from cooking school …

Chicken skin is fragile, treat it as such

A chef is trained to warm a dish or reheat an entree by using a lower temperature than was used originally. It makes perfect sense as the meat is cooked to a certain point by the initial temperature, and will continue cooking if the reheating temperature is raised to equal or greater.

Preserving those rare and medium rare cuts of Prime Rib is important given much of the cooking and preparation is done prior to the customer ordering the dish.

A chicken neck is just skin and feather follicles that have been treated and dried by the grower to remain flexible, it can be cooked further if the bath temperature is too hot.

It’s really the only mistake you can make if unfamiliar with dyeing necks, chicken skin cooks at lower temperatures than elk hide or heavier items, and when dried can shrink as much as 40% in addition to becoming brittle. It’s an imposition mostly, the feather color will be fine but the neck section will snap off the cape if flexed and you’ll have pieces of skin and feathers in the bag, versus an intact neck.

Know the dye, and get a clean color

As Gray is a relatively simple color to dye, it can be done in lukewarm water preventing both shrinkage and brittleness.

The problem with Gray is that it’s a weak black, and comprised of other dark colors which can show unbidden. It can be a “blue” gray or a “red” gray – just like black, so you’ll need to find a clean gray that is free of other tints as is possible.

Test dyeing on cheaper materials is the best way to determine the dried color. Look for a pale gray that allows you to steep the neck for a bit without turning into a shade of charcoal. I’ve found Jacquard’s Silver (gray) to be a really nice color with very few overtones.

The Process of Under-Dyeing

Under-dyeing is simply coaxing the material’s existing colors into something else. Unlike other forms of dyeing we’re not attempting to overpower the material, merely tinting it in the right direction.

Pump until no more air bubbles

Neck preparation is identical to other materials with hide attached, merely place it feather-side-down in a bowl, cover it with lukewarm water and pump the back of the skin until air bubbles cease coming to the surface. This supersaturates the material so the dye hits all the feathers and duff at the same time, ensuring the same tint to the entire neck.

honeydunWe’ll watch the top half of the hackles to monitor how deep the color will be before pulling the cape from the bath. The webby lower feather absorbs dye greedily and will darken much faster than the harder, shiny tips, often causing us to pull the cape from the dye prematurely. Hackle tips take dye slower, and we’ll pull the neck when the top half of the feather is the color needed.

This is the most important lesson of dyeing, picking the “action” area of the material to monitor for color change. Wet materials are always darker than dry, but for exacting matches – it’s the useful area that must be watched, not the webby portion.

Above is a damp Ginger neck pulled out of Jacquard Silver dye bath. I warmed the water enough to facilitate dissolving the dye, and removed the heat and added the white vinegar to cool it to merely warm. This is shown in indirect daylight to show the depth of the gray assist.

Honey_Dun The edges of the cape show the “clean Gray” color – largely absent blue or purplish tinges common to gray or black dye. The ginger center is assisted by the gray to form a really nice tint of honey or bronze dun.

At right is the same damp cape in direct sunlight, which shows the depth of the bronzing or honey color.

A cape this color is a rarity and would fly off the shelf unbidden, little wonder that flies, reels, and even split cane rods were traded for a hint of the proper colors.

The darkness of the Ginger chosen controls the “bronzing” effect on the final color. The dye merely assists the process by laying down a complimentary mask of Gray which acts with the natural color to bring out the final shade. Under-dyeing is really a tinting process designed to preserve the original color while nudging it gently into something quite different.

I still rely heavily on the dyed dun as compared to natural Dun necks or saddles. Their quality has improved a couple hundred fold since the 80’s, yet supply still seems to be an issue. Many shops have an assortment but not all colors are present in the full range of light, medium, and dark.

Ginger necks outnumber Dun by a wide margin, and sometimes I yank a creation out of the dye pot and understand why Art Flick or Roy Steenrod would have given away the farm …

Just little packets of dander

While last week was an orgy of drips, smears, and spills, it was only half of the overall effort. Testing dyes to produce the one and twenty minute shades gave me a pile of sodden colors, but it’s not dubbing until it’s teased, torn, and turned into filament.

Fabric Dyer's Dictionary Wet dyeing is a mixture of chance and things we can bend to our will, “dry dyeing” allows us to micro-manage color and turn lemons into lemonade.

It also allowed me to experiment with a fabric color bible, and their recipes for 900 different colors from component colors.

I picked up the Fabric Dyer’s Dictionary ($16.29) from Amazon.com, figuring fabric and its rough weave might approximate dubbing colors fairly well. This particular book isn’t as useful as I’d hoped as it’s limited to the fiber reactive liquid dyes used on vegetable fibers, like soy, hemp, jute, silk, and cotton.

Sample page and color measurement

It does list the components of each hue – which may be enough for the casual colorist to get within striking distance of the color desired, but you’ll have to develop a conversion from liquid measure to dry, or convert your powdered dye to squeeze bottles as they suggest.

As the liquid phase of the project was complete, I’d need to convert their teaspoons and tablespoons into pinches of dubbing.

Mixing dry dubbing to yield new colors

A couple of dog brushes, a gauze mask, and elbow grease is all that’s required, that and plenty of fur in as many colors as possible.

You can’t use blenders on fibers that are measured in microns, this is more of the Singlebarbed’s Whizbang Dry Fly dubbing and the average fiber is only 12 microns wide – about one-thirtieth a strand of wool fiber, it’s gossamer and sticks to everything – and will only bind into clumps with blender use.

Tearing the fibers between the grooming combs aligns them in parallel and starts the blending of color.

All fibers pulled parallel to one another

Now it’s only a matter of how complete of a color blend you want. As an impressionist I’d rather have some streaks of the components available as it allows me to fine tune the actually fly by selecting a bit more yellow or a bit less, ditto for the gray.

About four mixing passes to reach this blending

Considering that you can do the same with existing packs of fur you’ve purchased from the fly shop, dry dyeing allows you to build custom colors unique to your fishery with little mess.

The above yellow-gray blend has been through about four blending passes to achieve this level of mix. Each pass was scraped against the other repeatedly, then lifted off the bottom comb by scraping the top “with the grain” and towards you, then laid down again on the bottom comb to repeat the process.

This is about as far as I’ll take each blend. It gives about four shades of color from a single clump, depending on whether you take the fur from a yellowish area or a predominantly gray section.

final color with its components

The final blend with its component colors – the flash has lightened the original gray measurably. The color is a good muddy gray – liable to be someone’s secret color somewheres.

Considering the ultra-fine filament size necessary for a good dry fly dubbing, the rending process will have particles in orbit all around you. If you’re sitting down to a extended session wear a simple mask to avoid inhaling the bunny, beaver, or filament you’re tinkering with, it’s only prudent.

The first batch of colors

It doesn’t take much to yield a spectrum of colors suited to your watershed – and contrary to vendor offerings, you’ll have few wasted colors, and they’ll be complex blends – none of the drab monotones that dominate commercial dry fly dubbing.

I’ve concentrated the colors above in the olive and brown range, giving me 10 shades of each, plus 5 shades of gray, and a quick spectrum of warm colors suitable for most of the common California colors of mayfly and caddis.

This is just a start however, as I’m building a comprehensive selection to replace all the odd packs of vendor dubbing accumulated over a couple of decades.

Fly-Rite, Spectrum, Hareline, and all the traditional flavors just cannot compete with a naturally floating filament measured in microns. They’ll be relegated to a dimly lit drawer once I’ve matched all the remaining hues needed.

The color syllabus can only be used as a hint for the colors to clump on the combs, but as dry dyeing offers you complete control – you can add a pinch of what’s missing and match an exact color very quickly.

Something for you to tinker with while waiting for the creeks to subside.

Tags: bulk fly tying materials, dry fly dubbing, dry dyeing, fly tying blog, fly tying, fabric dyer’s dictionary, Hareline, fly-Rite, Spectrum, fly fishing, dog comb,

Labels and reference color hide a rainbow of sins

dye_fiddling Call me a slow learner, but the aerial display of the fourth will have nothing on the fireworks tonight …

I Figure 26 colors run through the same sink, tracked across identical linoleum – each with a 100% chance of a gaily colored spill outlining big hammy footprints headed toward the Man Cave …

Naturally I’ll spring for roses and chocolate hoping to confuse Miss White Glove, but even with all the innocent looks and promises of romance her spider-sense is liable to tingle.

It’s why I save all those extra Fly Shop ziploc bags, the lecture on “How much fly tying stuff do you need” carries less penalty than the “you dribbled Olive crap all over the living room” variant. By witching hour, all two and a half pounds of dry fly dubbing, plus those sixteen animal hides will be packaged neatly, allowing me to look appropriately shamefaced while she administers the former – rather than the latter, while I distract her with dinner and a glass of fine red.

I was working colors mostly, a new set of dyes and a new vendor always requires an exhaustive trial to see how labels and reference colors stack up to the end result.

I use the “21” method for evaluating new dyes, as the range of payload color can be fairly drastic even among the lightest tints. Take two identical hanks of material, soak one in the bath for one minute – soak the other in the bath for twenty minutes, dry and compare.

Twenty-One Method of Dye evaluation

The upper row shows four colors dipped for just 60 seconds, the bottom row shows the same dye bath after 20 minutes. The rightmost “Maize Yellow” produced a Golden Amber with an extended dip – yet the label reference showed the light maize variant. The leftmost color was “Safari Gray” – a color similar to Khaki, but the extended dip became nearly brown.

The rust brown and dark olive (two middle colors) were labeled as the bottom row, both dark colors – and quite vibrant in intensity. The one minute colors yielded a sage green and a creamy orange – with the cream-orange a huge bonus as it’s used extensively in most of the watersheds I fish regular.

This is why it’s so important to test dyes before using them on precious materials, sometimes the reference color is one minute – other times it’s gained only after the long steep. Knowing which yields what minimizes mistakes and the unforeseen colors.

More colors

Here’s another four dyes with similar issues. The leftmost medium gray and rightmost khaki are only true to the label color after a one minute dip – after that they darken incredibly fast. The center two, medium olive and brick red match the label only after a twenty minute soak. The one minute olive is also a huge color, it’s the Pale Morning Dun pale olive – something I thought I’d have to craft, versus just dipping it in a jug of nymph dip for a minute.

Each of the dyes shown was measured identically, one tablespoon of dye and three tablespoons of fixative, each used identical amounts of water.

Each dye is capable of three distinctive colors, the 1, 20, and 11 minute shade.

A canny fellow looks at the colors available and the 1, 11, and 20 minute results and can exclude certain colors from purchase. Most browns have only minor adjustments in red or black pigment, having it steep longer will match a russet or dark brown which you won’t have to buy.

The above picture is 13 dyes yielding 25 colors – not to mention the most absolute black and bright red I’ve ever seen.

Get Out of Jail Free Card

The Before As no points are scored for being banned from the kitchen, it’s important that the how to make a complete mess is tempered with how to extricate yourself from a screaming and angry woman.

It’s like watching all those crime shows and getting pointers on how to hide the body.

At left is the corpse after three days of desiccation. “Her” corn grabbers being the blunt instrument we need to cleanse – as well as the assortment of  ugly gray, red, and yellow driblets that line the strainer area. Each capable of bringing the Wrath of The Gods onto your narrow shoulders.

Soft Scrub, Get Outta Jail At right is the Righter of Kitchen Wrongs, cleanses fingerprints, restores the Pristine to the porcelain, and is capable of making you innocent of all imagined crimes.

… and don’t nod your head like you knew it already, this is the Goods, Babe.

Lay a generous dollop onto the porcelain and cover the afflicted area completely, give it 10 minutes to work magic, then rinse.

… and don’t buy the lemon as it coagulates in the jug rendering the contents useless. Unless you like driving to the store – blowing through all them red lights.

Along with pink fingers, the immaculate sink is the only means of extending your dyeing career, providing enough cover to enjoy a second or third session …

The immaculate porcelain

The pot scrape remains but all coloring agents are scoured from the surface. The shine has been restored as has the ability to see one’s reflection.

This corpse is buried deep.

Note the replaced strainer from my earliest attempts. All chrome with no tell tale rubber gasket to stain. It’s the perfect crime.

Tags: dyeing fly tying materials, dye reference colors, chrome strainer, dye stains, soft scrub, 21 method