Category Archives: Fly tying Materials

Where to find them cheaply

Matarelli midge bobbin with sewing machine spool

Just a follow up on the below NYMO post

Just finished tying a few dozen Clouser Minnows using the smaller sewing machine spools and a Matarelli Midge bobbin designed for the smaller spool size.

So I don’t confuse the reader I’ll need to change the nomenclature a bit. The spools for sewing machines are called “bobbins” and we call the apparatus that holds the spool a “bobbin,” which can lead to confusion on the part of the reader. I will call the sewing machine bobbins “spools” – as in sewing machine spool, to distinguish the fly tying tool from the container holding the beading thread.

Unlike sewing machine spools, which are made of steel, the NYMO beading thread is packaged on plastic spindels, with paper sides rather than metal. While the paper thread spools work, my hammy hands and their grip on the fly tying bobbin dislodged the spool from the midge bobbin frequently. I had to change my grip a bit to make these work, and once aware of the issue I was able to make them work reasonably well.

Long Tube, Normal, and Midge bobbins made by Frank Matarelli. This shows the dimensions of the three

Unfortunately, additional definition is needed for what I am describing as a “midge bobbin.” Frank Matarelli made his midge bobbin expressly for the sewing machine spool size – and NOT for our traditional thread spools. Matarelli tools are no longer made, and today “midge” bobbins are typically smaller, lighter bobbins made for tying small flies using the conventional thread spool sizes.

Us old timers that still have a few midge bobbins remember how cone-based thread used to be a reality, and moving fly tying thread from one form to spools was not such an imposition. Naturally, this should “color” your view as to whether this smaller spool form of NYMO is worthwhile for your tying.

It’s likely that winding a rubber band onto the legs of traditional bobbin would close the legs enough for a sewing machine spool to work better. The extra tension afforded by the rubber band might make your current bobbin an option.

Heavy tension on the bobbin while tying can work the thread into the crevass between paper spool side and the packed thread itself. I didn’t get any tangles, but I did get a few turns of uneven tension as a result. When working with big saltwater flies this isn’t much of an issue, but could be if the thread sizes and flies tied were smaller.

In summary, there was a wee bit more bother using the paper spools due to the tier’s palm pushing the paper spool out of the grip of the bobbin’s legs. A grip adjustment was necessary so that I didn’t continually knock the spool from the grip of the bobbin legs. As this thread is 2/0 or larger, you will be tying flies commensurate with the thread size and force will likely cause issues. Be so advised.

Us old tiers cried bitterly on the news of its demise

NYMO was the first unwoven nylon sewing thread that revolutionized fly tying

NYMO, by the Belding Cortecelli Company, was the first nylon sewing thread that relegated all the buttonhole twists, silks, and cotton threads of yesteryear to the scrap heap. As a young tier, I marveled at its strength and how it could be spun via a bobbin into both a round small thread, and unspun to generate a flat thread that added little bulk. We gleefully spun the bobbin to produce the round variant that would knife through deer hair, and attached feathers and hackle tip wings via the flat, “no bulk”, flavor. It was revolutionary to the fly tying realm and changed our perspective of threads and their capabilities forever.

… and then came the news they were taking it away

As this predates the Internet and online shopping, a large city might have access to a fly shop, whose stock was quickly cleaned out, and the rest of us were left ransacking sewing stores, millinery outlets, and wandering around any premises that sold fabric, hoping to find a thread section.

While the thread was magical in the fly tying circles, it sucked horribly as a sewing thread. The “Use warm Iron” admonishment on every spool, meant just that … as using a hot iron would melt nylon and the garment fell apart. This didn’t sit well with the sewing community, nor the dry cleaners, so the Belding Cortescelli Company removed the thread from the mainstay outlets.

I remember spying a few spools of size “A” White at one of the International Anglers Expositions, and as I pointed a shaking finger at the treasure and fumbled for my billfold, was grilled by the proprietor as to how, ” …had I never used it before, I shouldn’t … as it was being pulled off the market.”

I was successful in laying in a small stock of Size A, in black and white, then resigned myself to the notion that on their consumption it was back to the crappy threads of yore.

Fortunately, Monocord emerged shortly after NYMO disappeared, and I, as well as my fellow fly tiers, learned that tying tiny dry flies with “000” (3/0,three-ought) was infinitely superior than the thicker, Size “A” NYMO we had squirreled away. NYMO had been available in 3/0 as well, but when the run started on its dwindling stocks, only “A” was available for hoarding.

What brought back all those distant memories was my recent discovery that NYMO has been reintroduced by Belding Cortiscelli, and is marketed as a “beading thread.” Beading thread is a heavy, coarse thread designed for constructing beaded bracelets and other bead jewelry. Most commonly used by jewelry makers in Size “D”, for strength, the venerable NYMO is available in few fly tying sizes as well. The smallest I’ve found is “00” (2/0, or two-ought), which isn’t likely to unseat our existing threads like Danville’s 6/0 Flymaster, 8/0 Ultra, or UNI threads, but it could prove economical for tying larger flies like steelhead, bass, and saltwater flies.

NYMO Thread
A cone of NYMO tying thread

In addition, the packaging of NYMO offers both “Cones” and spools designed for sewing machines, which fit the Matarelli Midge bobbin, something our current spools do not. As thread hasn’t been available in cones to us fly tiers since the late seventies, most tiers will not find the 3 ounce and 6 ounce (or 1lb) cones attractive. In the olden days, we would decant thread off a cone by placing a spool on a power drill and loading the thread from the cone onto the empty spool akin to adding backing to a fly reel. The six ounce cones cost somewhere between $22 and $55, depending on the source, and hold about 5000 yards of thread, nearly 50 – 100yd spools. The sewing machine spools are 145 yard spools (size 2/0) and range anywhere from about a dollar, to about $4.50 per spool. It pays to refine your search to get the best pricing, and you need to frequent beading and craft stores, not fly shops. Etsy and Ebay are your friends as well.

NYMO on sewing machine bobbins

I was able to secure quite a few individual spools for about $1 per spool. I grabbed some black, white, and blue, in the 2/0 size, as I am making a lot of salt water flies for a donation project I am working on. I routinely find these on Ebay, sold in various colors and sizes, in odd lots sold by private individuals. It appears they use thread colors for a specific project, then move onto other jewelry using other thread colors. Remnants of their past project are then sold on Ebay or Etsy at a reduced price.

Given the wide variety in pricing for the thread, I would only purchase it on sale or on the cone. If you opt for the cone, save empty plastic bobbins first to give you something to offload onto, as the cone is unusable until you transfer the thread to spools useful for your traditional (or midge) bobbin. Store all threads out of direct sunlight, as that is nylon’s nemisis. I am using size “A” NYMO that is nearly fifty years old, and due to dark storage, it has retained its strength without decay.

Many new colors are available that were not present in the past, so we can thank the jewelry and craft folks for insisting on all the muaves, puces, and goldenrods, we enjoy today. As a cautionary note, do not assume you are getting the 2/0 size unless it is plainly marked (or advertised) as such. The most common sizes used for beading appears to be “D”, which is considerably larger than anything we use today.

It’s nice to have a few alternatives to the fly tying brands, given how inexpensive threads are to manufacture.

Phentex Yarn

Fly tying materials in the Wild : Polypropylene Yarn

It turns out I have quite a bit of time on my hands, given my providing care for an aging parent. While that certainly puts a dent in my fishing itinerary, it hasn’t slowed me down on the fly tying front … not even a little.

Like many other fly tiers, the last person I tie for is myself. For whatever reason, I ensure all my pals have plenty, and my fly box is filled with drab experimentals or gayly colored attractors, too gaudy for even the unconventional angler.

I have been restocking a lot of materials with the plan of tying for my own boxes, and find myself alternately thrilled – when I find that missing box of Puce Guinea fowl I misplaced, and gasping … when I see the current price of what it would take to replace it.

In many cases I had the foresight to lay in a goodly supply of common items, like hooks and tinsels, but after years of tying flies, I have made inroads into that supply and need to get more, or contemporary patterns require colors I lack and failed to set aside. As I discover the current trade names, sources, and locales for these materials, I’ll be adding them here for your consumption.

To wit, today we just confirmed that our old friend “Polypropylene” now goes by a different moniker. While the old name is common in fly shops and fishing venues, most of the garment industry has attempted to move away from unwholesome synthetics in favor of more comforting names and trademarks. Fly tiers have long known of the reluctance of the fashionable types to wearing REAL furs, and how it has cut into our supply of animal parts and furrier scraps. The same is true of trade names … and the movement away from names that sound like they cause cancer, to names that sound more wholesome, natural, and socially acceptable.

Polypropylene is now called “Olefin” and those tiny three yard cards of Poly yarn that sell for three dollars each, can be purchased under the Olefin name for a fraction of the cost of retail.

Skeins of Olefin yarn will look slightly different than the fly tying flavor, but only because the yarn you purchase might be a knitting yarn, a spun four ply, versus the unspun two ply seen in the fly tying variant. Combing the yarn out and unspinning the weave yields the same material and the same coarseness of fiber. Color selection is greatly increased due to the non angling uses, and for some that may be an additional benefit. Most poly yarn is used to wing spinners or dries, and typically used in the white and light gray flavors.

It’s not surprising that most of the Olefin yarn consumed in the US originates under Chinese manufacture. As there are so many uses for the Olefin yarn, everything from heavy ropes to gossamer garments, you need to select a form that is conducive to your fly tying.

Phentex was the brand of Polypropylene yarn purchased in the late 70’s, and the Phentex company still makes the yarn in its many forms today. Phentex markets the yarn under a variety of styles and types, many of which are available on Amazon. The “Slipper and Craft” yarn is a loose Olefin weave and will likely work well for your tying.

Most fly tiers will have a lifetime supply of Polypropylene (Olefin) yarn with only a single skein of the white and one additional in gray, I have found uses for turquoise blue, damsel dries, and brown – for Calibaetis parachutes. At six dollars a skein, you’re getting several decades of materials for the price of two of the small fly shops cards.

Jump on it.

My war against the 25 pack continues

I held my nose while ordering a 25 pack of “balance leech pins”. I needed a sample of the genuine to confirm what these really were – and from which industry they came. Possession of a 25 pack of anything from a tackle store typically requires me to blush profusely and commit the obligatory toe scuff to distract onlookers.

I hate 25 packs of anything, unless it’s Twinkies.

In fly fishing, the twenty five pack is just enough material to fiddle with and then run out when you discover some unknown yet useful quality.It’s enough to give your fishing buddy a handful, then find you only have three for yourself.

Today’s case it was enough to identify that “balanced leech pins” at $2.95 for 25, are simply dress maker’s pins – available at any fabric store for $6.95 for 750 of them. This wasn’t earth shattering as many fly tiers have guessed similarly, but as I noted the pattern recipe called for fly tying beads to balance the fly, and beads being another exorbitant 25 pack item, I thought I’d mention that standard metal beads will work better than the fly tying version – and are much cheaper.

Dressmaker pins are used as they have a flattened head which prevents our bead from slipping off the end of the pin.

DressMaker500

Solid copper, steel, or brass beads are available from Etsy, eBay, or Rings & Things and most hobby stores that cater to jewelry making. They work on barbless fly hooks with model perfect bends as they are not slotted to accommodate barb or sproat-style bends, but are sold for about $4 per hundred, versus $4.5 per 25 at the fly shop.

“Balance Leeching” is tying the fly on a 60 degree jig hook and including a bead on a dress maker’s pin to hold the fly level when suspended from a strike indicator. I had an idea this would work well on shallow weed flats for bass, and was intent on tying a couple dozen to try with minnow imitations as well as leechs.

balance_minnow600

Any chance I have to thwart the sale of a 25 pack of anything is worthy of the effort.I used some “diamond cut” 4mm iron beads to act as the balance element and tied others with dual beads so they would bang against one another (rattle) during the retrieve. Weeds are not yet available in the local lakes but they’ll show once the warm weather starts in earnest.

In Spring a Young Man’s thoughts turn to Cloudy Water

Spring is synonymous with the “Great Flush” wherein increased water levels caused by rain and snowmelt sends leaves, branches, empty water bottles, discarded Pandemic masks, and everything not nailed down – into whatever body of water is downstream.

I always seem to run into dirty water regardless of where I’m fishing and am always fiddling with flies attempting to find a solution to their visual appeal being obscured by debris and dirt.

The drought has complicated matters as well. As the water in lakes are drawn down it exposes loose dirt with little vegetation to hold it in place. Wave action caused by wind will stir that mix into a coffee colored slick that will extend it’s plume into the lake from the windward side of every point.

Wind and shallow water are common to both freshwater lakes and the California Delta. Vegetation tends to cleanse dirty water but a drought, coupled with the time of year, weeds are not available. Much of the underwater vegetation dies back during the Fall and Winter months, and the spring flush often empties into lakes whose weeds have not yet started their new cycle. The California Delta has less water level fluctuation and much more resident vegetation but is prone to wind which stirs the water in the shallows – disturbing bottom debris and sediment which quickly discolors water in the surrounding flats.

As fly fishing lacks many of the sensory elements of other types of fishing, like scent or sound, we are at a disadvantage when water conditions are less than ideal. Watching those Pro Bass shows often tempts me into using “Scent of a Thousand Nightcrawlers,” but I’ve resisted thus far only because the oily mess is likely to mat all materials and render flies lifeless and stiff.

Sound is a viable option on flies, but their method of attachment is a bit problematic. Many kinds of rattles exist for the bass jig market and might be adapted to flies with a bit of ingenuity.

The volume of rattle equipped baits on the lure and plug market suggests both lure manufacturers and anglers believe it attractive to predatory fish. As I’ve not read all the science (yet), I’ll assume the mob is onto something and all those rattle equipped lures are something more than a means to separate a fool and his money … and sound is an attribute to a fly in discolored water.

While not expert on sounds emitted by baitfish – it’s likely digestive noises and excess air are present in the innards of anything that isn’t a plant. Water transmits sound readily but I’m unsure whether “bad” noises exist and whether gastric noises or baitfish flatulence is attractive to predators. The act of swimming, either leisurely or frantically, is likely to add vibration (sound) into the water as well. The receptor on a predacious fish is likely its lateral line – as sound is likely transmitted through water as a vibration.

The bigger question is, which sounds and what pitch are triggers for large fish? Big sound, loud or soft, continuous sound or discrete notes?

I’d guess that the species and feeding behavior of the predator adds a unique mix of triggers, and Sailfish may respond to bigger sounds that would send a trout fleeing in terror. Schooling bait likely “sounds” different than a solitary minnow, so part of the mix will vary with the fish sought or imitated by the rattle equipped fly.

rattle700

Rattles exist in a number of options, most are for jigs and bait casting gear. Three basic styles are the dual harness type (XTech), the “Pepper Jig” type – whose rattles fit into a rubber harness akin to a set of Mickey Mouse ears (rattles in the box), and the fly tying rattle (Eye Glass Rattle) – which are shaped like a traditional “barbell” eye, and attached in the same way.

All of these are “dogs with fleas” for the adventurous fly tier. Both the dual harness and the Pepper Jig rattles rely on a rubber element that can be lashed onto a hook with ease. Unfortunately, rubber will oxidize and you might lose the rattle after a season or two. The basic cylinder of the “Pepper” shaped rattle is problematic and bulbous, so securing it to the shank without using the harness is an issue, both in secure attachment and in its interference in tying the actual fly itself.

The “barbell” style rattle eyes have little or no sound as the beads are so tiny, so if it’s the noise you’re after, the fly tying version are essentially worthless. As I am unsure which sounds are most desirable to Striped Bass and Largemouth/Smallmouth, and sound is the solution to combat discolored water, I choose to use the larger beads and noisiest rattles ; the double barbell and/or Pepper Jig flavor.

The physics of rattles has to be considered as well. Rattles create sound as one or more “BB’s” hit either end of a air filled chamber. Air is buoyant  so the larger rattles (containing bigger beads and more trapped air) can alter the buoyancy of the completed fly. Using a double rattle will exacerbate the issue, so it’s prudent to drop your flies in a glass of water to determine whether you’ve affected the rake or pitch of the fly in the water.

I chose to use a single rattle from the dual harness. I trim the harness at the center bulb and tie the stem portion onto the hook shank in the tail position. this allows the bucktail or marabou to flow around the rattle body and hide it within the fly.

It’s worthy to note that both the dual harness and “Pepper Jig” variants can be threaded onto the fly by simply forcing the hole in the center harness over the fly head or onto the leader itself. This offers the ability to add and remove rattles to your existing flies but relies on the elasticity of the plastic to remain securely attached. It’s plain the maker would have chosen a plastic that resists oxidation, as jigs are subject to sunlight as well as flies, but the force of casting the fly coupled with stretching the rubber ring over the hook eye will likely cause it to fail sooner than its traditional use.

645rattleBluegill

On the above “Little Bluegill” you can see the single barrel of the rattle tied in at the tail position. I have spread open the marabou to show the rattle, and when fished the rattle is not visible nor does it seem to affect the fly action. Any buoyancy issues will be overpowered by the lead eyes up front.

Mounting the rattle at the tail keeps it from obstructing the gape of the hook. Threading rattles onto the leader or eye means the barrels have the ability to dangle below the fly and may cause some issues with hook setting on smaller hooks. I trimmed the tether short to keep the barrel up tight to the shank of the hook rather than allowing it to sag to one side or the other.

Marabou striper flies fully loaded with water are already heavy things to hurl, so I didn’t notice issues with the increased weight. A fully loaded 2/0 is about as aerodynamic as a small school bus, so wear protective gear regardless.

8lbStriper700

I fished Sherman Island just after two days of blustery wind last week and managed to score a single eight pound striper. The water was noticeably dirty from all the wind activity and while I cannot say it was the rattle that seduced the slimy SOB, I’d like to think I outwitted him on his own turf ..

More testing is required to prove anything however. I am scouring the Internet to see if there is any scientific work on the subject, that can translated from Latin into English, as I am interested on how pitch and tone might attract or repel – and whether I can manufacture something suitable to confirm any theories on this subject.

In the meantime, enjoy fiddling with these options most are available from any shops catering to lure and jig making.

I plan on using the same flies for Largemouth to see if they aid in catching fish on the muddy plumes of water that come off the points in the afternoon. Wind traditionally makes an appearance in early afternoon, and my wandering about on the bank has revealed that schools of Threadfin Shad use these plumes as cover from predators, foraging with relative impunity .. Dragging my fly out of such a plume might trigger something to dine, and I do so love to share my flies with things smaller than me…

Loon ERGO Serrated Scissor Review

The pandemic has accelerated my conversion from trout fisherman to bass fisherman  due to  the unknowns associated with food, lodging and travel. I’ve shelved all the gossamer and petite gear needed for trout fishing in favor of  Styrofoam, hair,  rubber legs, and hooks capable of severing your Carotid artery with an errant cast.

Loon Ergo Hair Scissor640

Tying flies for bass is the “Widow Maker” for most marriages, as the production of a dozen 2/0 poppers involves half a deer hide, acres of marabou and brightly dyed Grizzly hackle, most of which winds up clinging to your lap or blowing about your tying room at the whim of your air conditioning.

I keep reaching for my “trout” scissors to cut bead chain eyes and saw through Stinger hooks and realized they were better served staying in the drawer given their delicacy.  Unable to find my old serrated edge heavy scissors, I picked up a pair of the Loon Outdoor Ergo Hair scissors to replace them. At $15 per pair, these scissors are priced well considering the potential for destroying them while restocking your fly box.

Tying big deer hair poppers can shorten the life of traditional delicate scissors as there are additional pressures that go hand in hand with larger flies.

Volume: Large bass poppers require many times the materials of smaller trout flies. That translates into cutting larger volumes of material with each cut of your scissor. As leverage plays into the physics of scissor cuts – the longer the scissor the more force is applied to the fulcrum area, the small screw holding the scissors together. Stainless steel is a “soft” steel (compared to others), and the screw steel is typically “harder” than Stainless, which ensures this excess force  will eventually deform the screw hole and loosen the scissor over time.

Obscurity: Tying big lumpy hair poppers means you have an enormous wad of hair lashed to your hook prior to trimming the final shape. As the majority of the hook is hidden , it’s very easy to close the scissor on the shank, point, or eye – simply because you couldn’t see it while trimming. Whacking a hook point with your scissors is bad for the tips and for the screw area, as the steel of a hook is “harder” than the steel (often Stainless) used to make the scissor. Hook steel can easily take the points off of a Tungsten scissor, as Tungsten is among the hardest of all steels – but it is also among the most brittle.

Dirt: Carving large amounts of deer hair off of the hide is a dirty business. While animal hides are cleaned and washed prior to being parted up for packaging, there is still a lot of foreign material trapped in the hair. Dirt, debris, dried blood, seeds, and everything else trapped in the under fur will be in the path of your scissors each time you make a cut of hair, and that additional wear adds over time.

Bulk: Cutting through three-quarters of an inch of Elk hair takes considerably more effort than trimming a mallard feather, yet most tiers expect the results to be identical. Cutting large amounts of material with small scissors requires the scissor to be closed slower than when it cuts a small feather – or the screw area will suffer. This is the most common way to deform the screw hole, cutting too much too quickly, and either the handles bend as you close them or the screw hole widens to accommodate the excessive pressure. Scissors loosen as they age, but it’s actually deformity of the screw hole that causes all the extra play – rather than wear.  If you are tying a lot of large flies or the materials are quite tough it’s better to switch to a larger scissor with the backbone to sheer through the material with less strain on the fulcrum area.

Today, Bulk and habit were the root of my problems, as I kept reaching for the fine point trout scissor when I should have used a larger set with serrated blades. Serration is always useful when trimming hair as the fibers cannot slide out of the scissors ahead of the cut, the fibers tend to catch in the serration and ensures everything gets trimmed proper. Note that this is both good and bad, as the serrated scissor will grip and make absolute cuts – and you can remove too much material if you’re unused to them.

The Loon Ergo serrated scissors are a 4.5” (powder-coated stainless steel) scissor with superb tips and a light serration down one of the blades. The large finger holes, hence the “ergonomic” designator, are quite comfortable for extended tying sessions, and there is enough “beef” in the scissor frame to snap them closed without feeling the handles flex – which is a good tell that the scissor is over capacity on the cut.

At $15 the price is really cheap, prompting me to order a second set for use with conventional tackle, trimming braid and heavy monofilament where that serrated edge will prove extra useful..

As my tying room is currently bereft of carpet due to a “slab leak” and having to jack hammer the concrete pad beneath for the repair, I should mention that I managed to drop these scissors on their points and bent both tips in a dramatic fashion. Stainless steel is a soft steel, so I was able to restore the points to their original shape by dragging them across my vise barrel several times. This is not a failure of design or an inherent weakness in the quality of the product – rather this is what happens when good scissors and fine tips meet an immovable object.

Great scissor for a great price – and with the large finger holes even the hammy handed should find these comfortable.

Note: This is an unsolicited quick review of this product. The scissor was purchased at full retail from a shop.

A Colonoscopy is Better than Fly Fishing

ColonI was shocked by the violence of the outburst. How us “fly fishing guys were NUTS”, and how the speaker – a largemouth Bass devotee – would rather submit to a colonoscopy before EVER learning to fly fish.

I’m staring at an extended digit, which I assume to be the exclamation point for some hideous crime dealt by some pompous flyfisher …and the victims, the aforementioned gear-wielding bass fiends, being horribly traumatized as a result.

I could understand the vitriol if my fate was the company of fellows I didn’t care for – or the required fly fishing livery and mandatory smoking jacket were unsavory, but as I’m unsure what the source of the angst is – and whether the conversation will end in blows,  I’m  struggling  to envision what horrid crime would anger a fellow fisherman to the point of apoplexy.

I understand it better now.

As a reward for spending the weekend waist deep in cold water with not even a single bite, I was coaxed into a pilgrimage to “Mecca”, a.k.a. the Bass Pro Shop Outdoor World Boating and Tackle Megamall.

To suggest I was intimidated would be an understatement. No sooner had I broke the plane of the entry than I was hailed by a “Walmart Greeter” in store livery, and promptly herded past the acres of checkout aisles, test kitchen tidbits hawked by sweaty fat guys, and into the throng of people headed for the Big Aquarium of Tapped Glass – which was home to numerous large (and sonically deaf) fish whose fate it was to endure children banging on the glass – hoping to startle a resident into activity.

While I’m slowing to take it all in, I realize I’m that Old Lady blocking the soup aisle while poring over the sodium levels of Bean & Bacon versus the Chicken and Rice.  I am blocking the path to the Test Kitchen and the free samples of “Gut Shot Elk Butt” being foisted on the unwary. Those same folks that wrinkle their nose at laying a lip on fish from the Wild, now squealing in pleasure as Mother Nature dipped in sugar and deep fried makes the sumbitch tastes like a Twinkie ..

I managed to find refuge in an side aisle featuring a mixture of “my organ is bigger because I kill stuff” fluorescent tees, (which all the kids were in a tizzy over) mixed with the more staid earth tones of Sherpa gear that just came off the Matterhorn, whose drab sophistication Mom and Pop found enchanting.

I found a side eddy that took me past more glittering silver and gold spinner-baits than King Croesus’s treasury, and as I slow I begin to see price tags and comprehend where I am. I’m in “SevenDollarLand” where everything large or small, glittery or drab, wiggly or inflexible – cost seven dollars each.

Like Walmart, bins of merchandise dominated by sale banners and bold typefaces ensuring us old guys don’t have to squint before pantomiming our displeasure. Suddenly that tasteful bit of tackle we’re fondling is the “dipped toe” into many hundred’s of dollars in liability, and we find ourselves cornered by an angry spouse with no path to the hordes of squeezables in the Rubber Worm Garden.

I’m a fish out of water – uncomfortable in what should have been a religious experience. Organ music and choir warble gives way to announcements of lost children, debtor’s prison, and the screams of kids no longer interested in Dad’s pending decision between Deep Fuggin Craw and Yum Yum Yello Crankbait.

I’m cheek to jowl with many thousands of folks who have no interest in any of this other than the spectacle.

The fly fishing section was framed in dark wood and dim lighting, a welcome contrast to the bustle and garish colors of the Crankbait aisle.  Large price stickers announced the fly tying section as “Threedollarland”  – where spools of tying thread were $3.19, as were the tiny bits of duck’s arse, deer fetlock, and turkey down.

I hadn’t  thought the price tag mounted on the rear of a glassine envelope to be the fly fishing equivalent of “demure”, but I understand better now.

The shock of how much a new fly tier pays for materials  caused my eyes to water. Hackle has never recovered from the heady days of hair inserts, and the White River shop brand for Bass Pro was a small (and useless) handful of neck hackle reminiscent of India capes. At $13.00 per packet, a fellow could go broke tying a dozen dries.

I was more fortunate, given it was Shad season. I picked up a few fetching colors of pink and chartreuse tinsel, a packet of pink beads, a couple 10lb tippet spools (mono not flouro) and two spools of heavy white thread – and I was out the door at $31.00.

Nine flies later I wasn’t so impressed at my acumen …

Pricing a Royal Wulff was an eye opener. $14.00 for a packet of brown hackle, $5 for the calf tail, $4.79 for the Peacock, another $3.19 for red floss, and $3.19 for the thread, closely followed by $7 for a 25 pack of hooks, meant I was into the fly about $38 by the time I had everything.

Considering the hackle as the delimiter, maybe I could tie 9 good flies .. making the cost per fly about Four Dollars Each. As Bass Pro sells the damn flies for $12/dozen, we’re not likely to see the fly tying ranks swell much …

Ditto for the Thousand Dollar Fly Rod. As Momma and the kids stroll past the fly fishing section (with prices visible from the closest three aisles) we’re sending a powerful message to our recruit pool.

Tying flies as a means of defraying the cost of buying store-bought has always been one of the reasons for fly shop visitation and our continued support even during non fishing season. Like tippet, it’s one of the most common reasons for us to visit and toy with that new rod, or try on those new zipper front waders.

One megamall does not a trend make … but as our numbers are dwindling quite rapidly, and these “foreign” venues present our craft to thousands of potential recruits, far in excess of anything our small stores can muster, I was a bit surprised at my own reaction …

… and was an eloquent depiction of why my hardware mongering bass pals won’t even consider the long rod. A lesson punctuated by airborne spittle and much finger pointing.

139 Yards of shattered glass

It was one of those rare opportune moments where a simple resupply of “frog” yarn revealed something really useful at a compelling price … even better …ample tonnage remaining to satisfy any fly tier’s ambition to lay in a goodly supply.

Bernat Boa is a synthetic polyester ribbon yarn that’s strong enough to use as hackle, has enough structural integrity to use as streamer wings, can be wound closely to make 3D shaped minnows, and can be knotted and teased into any number of fish killing uses.

I use it consistently in Shad flies, bass flies, and anything requiring saddle hackles, because the edge binding the polyester fibers is thin enough to wind, and can be tied off securely without inducing weakness due to bulk.

As each skein has three or four colors, it becomes really cost effective due to the additional colors that can be harvested from its “camouflage” coloration.

Yarns that are in consistent demand typically introduce new colors (and retire older non performers), and as I refilled my dwindling supply of Shad “pink”, I noticed new colors that made the material doubly compelling.

Bernat_Holidays_Label

Apparently for Christmas 2014, Bernat introduced a series called, “Bernat Boa Holidays”, that added three additional festive solid colors;  Santa Suit (red), Holly Green, and Blizzard (white).

The white caught my eye immediately as I was tying some minnow patterns that needed a light colored body, and something about the original photograph suggested these filaments might be a form of Antron.

After I took delivery I was pleasantly surprised. This is a much softer and finer tri-lobal filament that has the “shattered glass” brilliance of Antron, but can be dubbed onto a dry fly.

Bernat_Holidays1

Where this material truly shines is when it is clipped from the yarn base and mixed into a natural fur blend to offer a sparkle akin to  baby seal. This “shattered glass” effect is great for a medium (trout) sized fur blend, and given polyester dyes readily, additional colors can be made from the white to suit more “earthy” sparkle effects.

Bernat_HolidayGrass

Holiday yarns tend to be limited release but I’ve not seen any mention of these being pulled post holiday season.

Do not buy these colors on eBay as they tend to range in the $6-$8 range per skein. Instead get them from YarnSupply.com or Knitting Warehouse – which has Blizzard on sale for $3.69 per skein.

These are often found in KMART stores as well, but holiday colors are typically swapped quickly to seasonal favorites shortly after the festivities are over.

139 yards per skein makes an awful lot of streamers or dubbing blends, I think you’ll find a multitude of uses quickly.

My struggle with diaphanous

While much of the struggle involves spelling the damn word correctly, the remainder of my frustration is having to refine the fly tying equivalent of , “less is more.”

diaphanous

Fly tying being the art of “taming cowlicks”, wherein us tiers deploy spittle, cement, and thread to lash as much as possible onto the hook, and anything we can’t dominate with finger pressure or more thread gets trimmed away…

… yet, I’m on the converse of that road, attempting to invent transparent by adding materials versus subtracting them, and it’s an unmistakable sign the idea was sound but the execution is likely flawed.

Much of what the local bass are eating are minnows. Observation of what few I could see near shore suggest there is a mixture of opaque and diaphanous qualities to the fish. As most of my traditional minnow styles are not working, despite my best attempts at matching colors and sizes, suggests something else might be the issue.

I’ve been fiddling with colors and visibility, but to date that has been fruitless. A few fish follow the imitations, but none have taken the fly. Contrasting the gaudy strumpet I am towing through the water with the natural suggests I need tone down both glitter and bulk.

Bulk is not easy to remove, given how water tends to flatten and streamline dry materials, and lightening bulk typically results in diminishing the profile of the fly – making it more like a pencil In the water than the traditional “pumpkinseed” minnow shape.

While struggling with a lot of other issues I did manage to come up with an elegant solution allowing me to remove bulk without sacrificing the fly shape.

Using a #4 kirbed (point offset) streamer hook, I built a small bulwark of chenille halfway down the shank, after first sliding on a small brass cone.

diaph_cone600

After whip finishing and adding a drop of cement behind the cone, I retied the thread onto the front of the shank to add a bit of ribbon yarn. I picked a light pink to correspond to gill coloration, and took a couple wraps of the material in front of the cone.  The brass cone flared the material further adding a more pronounced 3-D cone shape to the fly.

Diaph_gill600

This “spread” effect of the underbody will cause any material added onto the fly to spread further, giving the proper silhouette without relying on bulky materials for form.

Taking about 35-40 strands of white marabou – I spread them out along a “dubbed loop” – with about 3/4” of the butts on one side of the loop, and the remaining tapered tips on the other. When spun, the butts (with their thicker stem) add bulk to the area containing the pink ribbon yarn, and the less numerous tips add a bit of color behind the fly, without adding opaqueness.

diaph_marabou-hackle600

Add three strands of original holographic green flashabou to the top of the “marabou hackle”, and then add about 20 strands of gray marabou in a clump onto the top of the fly.  The gray marabou should be about 1/2” longer than the white, and the flashabou should be the longest of all, just peeking out from the other mats to make an enticing flash behind the fly.

diaph_grey600

Add five strands of a Montana Fly barred Ostrich plume (sexy looking but nosebleed expensive @ $9.00), to the top of the fly to add a bit of coloration.

daiph_dry600

The result is an amorphous lump of materials that will lose opacity when dampened. The bulky area around the bead will retain its mass and color akin to the real baitfish – but the nether underbelly will vanish as the grey marabou, tinsel, and ostrich is longer than the white, making it appear diaphanous and transparent.

diaphdamp600

The final effect when wet is light and airy with the bulk up front. Note that instead of slimming down to nothing the fly retains the all-important  minnow shape.

The local fish inhaled it with great gusto this weekend, but the unsavory brutes that haunt the local creek would have been just as eager to inhale the twist-off cap from a Budweiser … so additional research is needed.

The Unnecessary Drought in Fly tying

Ever watch someone attempt to match a bug in the wild? Minimalism usually overrides complexity as tying while traveling restricts the fly tier to a small subset of the materials than are available at home. Little packets of dubbing compress nicely, and a half dozen necks covers just about everything fished dry.

As your pals cluster over your “canvas” insisting, “ …it was a bit more brown” – and how, “…the ones near me were about a size 12,” invariably the resultant bug when duplicated enough to quench demand, is always dry.

Not the “dry” of dry fly, rather the dry of the desert … bone dry, the opposite of damp.

As the only “fish” able to survive out of water are Snakeheads and our prehistoric ambulatory ancestors, the inconvenient truth is fish live in water and to catch them your fly must get wet. As simplistic as this sounds, this notion eludes most fly fishermen, as attempts at imitation are done using dry materials, under bright lights, rather than wet materials under the dim light of dusk, or under refracted conditions.

Dry_62

The Bad News being that under morning or evening conditions, damp flies change color drastically, and while our painstakingly crafted imitation was anatomically correct and the proper color, its damp, darkened variant may only catch smaller fish forced into the unpopular lies, and the desperate fish that rushed to the bait regardless of its color.

The magic of realistic imitation is a mixture of known and unknown, which makes the topic complex and the outcome so varied. On the one hand,  our quarry cannot be queried as to what it just ate, and if it doesn’t, we assume it “smart” – able to count the extra six legs our hackle contained. On the one hand fish are  stupid, and any object carried by the current and resembling something living, is eaten without hesitation.

Due to the cost of our tackle and collective ego, fly fishermen insist their quarry is an agile, canny, predator – that can only be seduced by a similarly gifted angler. The reality of “pea-sized” brain and the “instinctive eat” is dismissed as belonging only to drinking buddies or the angler’s offspring.

In actuality, flies are darker when wet than when dry. Fish are likely to eat them, but may not eat them with the gusto reserved for the predominant hatch, and refusals can be more common than a properly colored imitation.

This darkening effect is enhanced by many factors, most important being the underbody and the thread color used to construct the fly. Attempts at exacting imitation of form or color must include an understanding of how thread colors influence the fly when fished.

wet6

To illustrate the phenomenon, both of the above pictures were taken of the same flies under marginal light conditions. The “dry” picture flies look reasonably identical other than the bits of thread color showing at whip finish or the post of the parachute wing.

After immersion in tap water, the bugs tied with darker thread reveal their true colors – which no longer resemble the coloration of the original pattern,  and in this case, only the yellow and tan versions remain unchanged.

Dry flies are much more vulnerable to the bleeding through of thread colors due to their light coloration and sparse dressing. Fur absorbs water, and most tiers attempt to reduce this absorption by minimizing the amount of fur used in the body.

Nymphs have less exposure to this issue – but are not immune by any measure. Most nymphs tend to tied with darker colors, and thread to match making their color less susceptible to the skew induced with dampness.

Tying flies with neutral colors may not be as fashionable, but they will preserve the intent of the dressing better versus adding unforeseen consequence.  For flies dressed in the warm spectrum of yellows through brown, tan thread will neither add color nor darken noticeably, it is the preferred neutral “warm.” For light dun through the olive spectrum, a light gray thread is the preferred “cool” neutral.

Underbodies and the controlled visibility of their thread color is a powerful tool to assist a tier if the effects are planned and understood. Buffering a bright underbody with external fur can yield a “gelatinous” coloration that due to visual effects adds dimension as well as color just like the real bug.

As beginning fly fishermen we are destined for numerous stages to our fishing careers. Choosing to tie flies being one, awareness of our prey and its favorite food groups being a second. Discovery that angling theory is a mix of myth and word of mouth – inevitably leads to entomology and the scientific process … and the desire to imitate versus attract. In our maturation as an angler, it’s inevitable that precise color and exacting imitation will become a dominate chapter, one of many phases we’ll endure in our journey to “Opinionated Old Sumbitch”, the Jedi Master of fly fishing.