Fish Flies: The Encyclopedia of the Fly Tier's Art

Foreword

—Bob Marriott Fullerton, California

There are essentially two kinds of books about fly-fishing: those that flash in the pan and then quickly fade from the scene and those that last and do honor to the name of the author long after his time. These latter books are called classics. This new book by Terry Hellekson is virtually assured of becoming an enduring classic of fly-fishing literature.

There are several reasons. Perhaps the most important one is that Fish Flies is written from the viewpoint of an insider to fly-fishing rather than a disinterested third-party. Another is that it is complete in the sense that virtually any angler, any fly fisherman can derive an honest overview of flies as they relate to the entire sport of fly-fishing, from their history to current techniques of fishing them and why.

The first part of the book deals with the beginning of the sport; explores the concepts of vision and perception of color; talks about the tools, hooks, and materials from which flies are created; discusses dry, wet and nymph flies, and takes a close look at the specific species of mayflies, stoneflies and caddisflies. The second part of the book introduces the reader to other insect orders, terrestrials and crustaceans; then delves into the specifics of streamers, shad flies, steelhead flies, and salmon flies.

What so impressed me about Fish Flies is that it is distinctively different than any other book on flies. In a sense, it is one of the few books ever published on the subject of flies that can truly be said to be reader friendly. What leads the reader to this conclusion is not only Hellekson’s obvious attempt at a definitive job of research, but also the way the material has been organized. What I like especially was the way the material is organized into two clear parts—the history, materials and corelative material used in flies and the design, construction and dressings of an enormous variety of currently used dressings. In this sense, this book could carry a couple of additional titles: Flies Made Easy and A Fly Tier’s Home Companion, both of which would accurately describe the different aspects of the book.

In this sense, then, Fish Flies will ultimately fill a role similar to that of the time honored Farmer’s Almanac by being the definitive source for accurate information, specifically about flies and how to tie and fish them. It is a book of equal value to the beginner and skilled veteran fly fisher alike. It will soon come to the attention of teachers of university and community college courses on fly-fishing and fly tying as the definitive text of a great and time-honored sport.

Fish Flies is destined to become that rarest of all fishing classics, the definitive work that comes along every once in a great while and honors its author for many generations. It is a book that belongs out of the bookcase and on the fly-tying table.

—Eric W. Peper Austin, Texas

When I first became involved in fly tying in the mid 1960s, my mind was a sponge for any and all tying information, whether it was about techniques, materials or patterns. As a result of a several-year association with Theodore Gordon Flyfishers in New York I had the good fortune to have excellent teachers: Ken Bay, Ed Koch, Larry Solomon, Eric Leiser, Ted Niemeyer, Poul Jorgensen, Charlie DeFeo and others less well known, but equally as skilled as those mentioned. I bought all the instructional books I could find, and I read and reread them incessantly. I passed quickly through the stages of creating my own patterns to recreating the standard patterns to experimentation with imitation of natural trout foods. I adopted, rejected and readopted theory after theory, from exact imitation to impressionism to use of fluorescence and a host of others.

About a half dozen years after I started tying I fancied myself something of an authority and began teaching others the basics of tying. A year or so thereafter I realized several things: 1. while I could tie a decent fly, I was far from an authority or an expert on any aspect of tying; 2. there was little truly new in fly tying, yet there was much to learn; 3. most of what was heralded as a revolutionary, new development was, in fact, something old revisited with a different material or technique.

About this same time I was working as editor for the Field & Stream Book Club, and in that capacity I got a review copy of a new book called Popular Fly Patterns by a new writer named Terry Hellekson. I was impressed with the work and chose Terry’s book as a major selection of the book club. Terry went on to make fly tying and fly tying materials his lifework, while I became involved in the emerging business of computer based education. We both remained passionate about fly fishing and fly tying.

I had thought little about the book or Terry for twenty years until the Internet reconnected us about 7 or 8 years through our shared interest in fly fishing and fly tying. We began an active correspondence sharing information and opinions on fly tying history, materials and people because we recognized through our initial e-mail communications a common thinking in these areas.

I had been frustrated for years by the periodic discoveries that were heralded in the world of fly tying to the point that I began questioning and almost immediately rejecting anything with the words new fly tying development or new, revolutionary material. Experience had led me to reduce the number of pattern designs I carried to a double handful, varying sizes and colors to achieve what I needed in the way of imitation. Retrospectively, I realize I had prematurely evolved into a curmudgeon.

By and large, I kept my beliefs and attitudes about tying to myself and concentrated more on honing my tying and angling skills rather than chasing after each new material or design that came down the road. For example, it was many years after their appearance and popular acceptance that I began using the popular synthetic materials of polypropylene, Antron or Zelon. Only in the past 5 to 6 years have any of my subsurface patterns had bead heads. And, CDC didn’t make its way into my tying kit until about 1999. I realize now that I have begun using some of these wonderful materials and techniques that I had been a bit of a blockhead!

Terry, on the other hand, has never given up his relentless and energetic research into tying and its origins or his acquisition of in-depth knowledge on and experimentation with most new developments in tying and materials. I was delighted to find he would confirm some of the conclusions I’d reached over the years, while also bringing clarification to a few other vagaries by which I’d long been bothered. When Terry asked me to write a few introductory words to his book I was both delighted and flattered.

As each of us, you and I, become more involved in the art of fly tying and the sport of fly fishing, whether we want to or not we become to some degree researchers and scholars of the origins, artifacts, literature or sciences associated with these activities. The ability of our art and our sport to generate first interest, then enjoyment, then curiosity (My wife would add obsession to this list.) is I think one of the reasons we love fly tying and fly fishing. There is also a risk in all of this: the quest for knowledge can overwhelm and numb the passion that brought us to the sport in the first place. In other words, we risk becoming so introspective and analytical about the way we tie or how and where we fish, that we forget that enjoyment was the reason we started tying or fishing.

Another tendency that occurs early in the evolution of the fly fisher is to speculate that it would be truly wonderful to be able to make a living doing the things we enjoy the most, which, of course, would be something allied with fly fishing. The speculation, unfortunately, doesn’t hold up well when it comes in contact with reality, because the facts are: 1. fly fishing is, for most of us, an escape from the rigors of our real jobs; and 2. once most people begin performing an activity for the purpose of earning a living, it generally ceases to be entirely enjoyable for them.

Terry Hellekson is an exception to both these situations. He has made fly tying and fly fishing his career; yet he doesn’t for a minute let us forget tying and fishing should be and really are fun. Furthermore, he helps us remember a great deal of our fun can be derived from and enhanced by increasing our knowledge of tying and fishing. Although Terry and I have never fished together, I know from our correspondence that each day of fishing for him, as it is for me, is a day of discovery and learning and pure enjoyment.

Because he grew up in a fly tying family, Terry’s Fish Flies is the product of literally a lifetime of research and experience. The book makes order of the information chaos that fly tying has, for many of us, threatened to become. Terry is not one to mince words on subjects he knows thoroughly, nor does he accept that which has been previously written as fact. The reader expecting to find a reiteration of previously stated theories on patterns, materials and people associated with fly tying will not find it in these pages. With respect to most problems and situations involving fly tying, Terry has, in the popular vernacular Been there, done that, and has the T-shirt to prove it. Where he hasn’t been and what he hasn’t done to his own demanding standards, he’s sought out experts as consultants or as alter egos to verify and codify his thinking. In summary, much of what Fish Flies has to say is truly new.

Through our correspondence, I’ve learned from Terry that a great deal of the book’s content involves information which was not only new to him, but which in several instances was shockingly new. In other words, his research uncovered information which he either did not expect to find or which soundly refuted long and widely held beliefs. His writing says, Here are the facts as I have found them. They may be different than what you’ve been told. Nonetheless, these are the facts. Form your own conclusions or accept mine.

On the one hand, Terry holds up a few of the popular new theories and materials for scrutiny they cannot long endure, but he is also fair in giving endorsement to othernew developments which his experience has shown will benefit fly tyers and fishermen. Similarly, he is not shy in pointing to a bit of tarnish on the haloes of some of those to whom fly tying/fishing sainthood has been granted over the years, while simultaneously singling out other less well-known names for the recognition they may not have received to date but which they have truly earned. In each case, his basis for evaluation is either that which is verifiable fact or has stood the test of time as a worthwhile contribution to the arts of fly tying and fly-fishing.

The chapters on materials, dyeing and hooks alone are worth the reading. Couple this material with the chapters on fish food forms and their imitations, then add on the directory of patterns and you have a virtual encyclopedia of the fly tyer’s art. While Fish Flies will likely take a prominent place as a reference work, the book’s chapters also read well in large topical bites, providing interesting as well as comprehensive information on the subject each section addresses. Because he has traveled and fished all over the world, Terry’s work carries little of the regional bias from which some proceeding works have suffered. The pattern lists, for example, while specifically applicable in the U. S. carry an international flavor reflective of Terry’s experience and contacts.

A word of caution to the reader: any work as intentionally exhaustive as Fish Flies will be scrutinized for omissions, and because of this scrutiny apparent omissions may be found. A bit of thought will reveal, however, that while locally or fleetingly popular patterns may have been omitted from the listings, little of substance associated with the origins or techniques of fly tying has been omitted from the text. In addition, Terry tacitly asks his readers to accept his experience as their guide to the art of tying. To this extent, he also asks us to grant him the privilege of holding informed opinion. In any endeavor as highly individualistic as fly tying, personal preference as to tools, techniques and materials is certain to evolve. The reader is invited to question and to disagree with the suggestions and instruction implicit in the text. Before disregarding any suggestion, however, he or she should also consider the depth of experience on which Terry’s advice is based and perhaps reconsider, as Terry has, the wisdom and correctness of that which previously has been a standard.

What Terry has accomplished for me with Fish Flies is to highlight the importance of at least considering and evaluating each purportedly new development in tying rather than disregarding it without examination as I had previously done. Terry has also reaffirmed that the key to understanding and evaluating all that will appear in fly fishing and fly tying in the future is to know and understand all that has been a part of fly fishing and fly tying in the past.

Preface

The first fish of every fly-fishing season is always something special. That first encounter elicits a rare harmony that is hypnotizing to all of us. But soon the fantasies of the winter months begin to unravel. While attempting to beach that first fighting giant eleven-incher you hear a familiar murmuring behind you. It is your partner with those often-asked questions: What pattern are you using? Is it wet or dry? Is it a light or dark pattern? He or she is overwhelmed by your reply as you convey that it is tied dry, but you are fishing it wet, it is neither a bright nor a dark pattern, and you have no idea what it might be called.

With the variety of fly patterns offered to the fly fisherman today, one would think that most of us are ready for just about any situation on any given stream or lake. Unfortunately, that is rarely the case and it tends only to invigorate the challenge. Our quest for that perfect fly becomes further confused when you receive ten different variations of a pattern from ten different fly tiers. Some in the fly-tying fraternity pass this inconsistency off as improvement or creativity.

As a professional fly tier for many years, I decided to set a personal standard for the many fly patterns I tied. When a customer requests a Royal Coachman, he expects to get a Royal Coachman and not something that I have dreamed up. Furthermore, he expects to get the same pattern dressed exactly the same way each time he reorders. During the 1950s, I started collecting information on patterns and their variations in different parts of the country so that the flies I tied would be as authentic as possible. In those days I found fly patterns to be very perplexing. Because fly tying was both my primary avocation and vocation I had a tendency to take the subject much too seriously. I would get irate in finding a description of a fly pattern that specified duck for the wing. What were they thinking? I had to learn to just move on and seek another source.

One winter, Ted Trueblood was visiting my father at our home on Pine Street in Redding, California. At the time, this man was a giant in the field of fly-fishing. He wrote articles in magazines and actually got paid for them, too. I was impressed that he was right there in my own house. Ted was from Idaho and had stopped by to go through some jungle cock and other materials my father had. After he and my father had spun a variety of fish tales and had some adult liquid refreshments to knock off the winter chill, I got over my initial shyness and got into the picture. I brought in six of Ted’s flies that I tied from the articles he had written. I was seeking his approval and expecting the worst. After he looked over my creations, he kindly had me follow him out to our little shop where he proceeded to instruct me in the art of fly tying. I learned more from him that afternoon than I ever could have imagined. I don’t know just how good those flies really were, but Ted told me the following morning that I could tie just as well as he could. Naturally, I was ecstatic and those kind, encouraging comments have stuck with me all these many years.

Today, as I look back, I wonder why I didn’t listen to my father a little more closely. He had such tremendous knowledge of which I didn’t take full advantage. He was an Edward R. Hewitt devotee and he dedicated his life to wet-fly and nymph designs. I cannot ever remember seeing him either tie or fish a dry fly. He also allowed the barber and wig maker, Frank Pott, from Missoula, Montana, to influence a lot of his thinking.

When I started purchasing every book I could find on fly-fishing, which were few and far between in those days, I still felt I was missing a lot of necessary information. Some old-timers told me that what I really wanted to know was in the books that were out of print. The fact that a fly-fishing book was out of print and I was unable to obtain a copy anywhere put me into a minor state of hysteria. I was totally obsessed with authenticity and tying patterns by the book. Later I had to start asking myself the question, whose book?

My fly-tying abilities progressed through the years and I tied most of the more common patterns that were offered commercially. Then a few customers started bringing me some unfamiliar patterns to custom tie. These were extremely effective flies, but they were generally unknown and were not offered commercially anywhere. As I soon discovered, they were either difficult to tie or their materials were unusual or hard to find. Nonetheless, it resulted in a whole arsenal of good fly patterns that were available only to a few. I’ve included many of those in this book, as well as some other trials and experiments so that you don’t have to repeat our mistakes.

Today, I believe that far too many of us have become overly obsessed with some of our approaches to fly designs and patterns. Over time I realized that I did not have to stop tying a particular pattern because a dictated material was no longer available. Suitable substitute was then added to my vocabulary, but I had my own definition. Defining a suitable substitute in fly-tying materials can often take on a far broader meaning to many, but I define it as substituting a material for another material without altering the effect or appearance of the original pattern. It is as simple as that.

My definition does not include changing the color of the material or the design of the original pattern. That falls into the area of variations and it quite often results in another pattern being created entirely. This is why I have always attempted to seek out the original patterns wherever possible. I have always felt that I owe it to the originator of the fly pattern and his or her creativity not to alter their work. In most cases every good fly pattern was created for a purpose. The originators create their patterns to work in the waters they fish. Usually when any pattern proves to be successful, even its originator will be found carrying several variations. Over a period of time a single pattern, among the variations, will be used much more than any of the others. This is the one we preserve.

I’ve heard that some 25,000 or more recognized fly patterns exist today, although no one, to my knowledge, has determined just what constitutes a recognized pattern. Add to this incredible total all of the hopeful creations that come from each fly tier’s vise each year and we arrive at still another astounding figure. This large number should not dissuade you in any way; it is offered only to demonstrate to you the broad diversification existing with respect to fly patterns. It is safe to say that less than 1 percent of the fly patterns available today are used by any given angler. Each of us has to evaluate the requirements for his or her own area and use that as a starting point. I certainly cannot recommend fishing with a fly just because it might be pretty.

Here are a few brief points about fish flies that will be helpful for you to know before getting into the meat of this book. A fish fly is an instrument of deception and should be regarded as such. Our flies fall into five basic categories—attractor, suggestive, impressionistic, realistic, and exact.

An attractor pattern is one that has bright colors and considerable flash. No one has ever been able to really explain why a fish will strike these flies. Some feel they do it out of instinct to protect their territory. If that is the case, the attractor patterns probably work better with spawning fish than with those at an ordinary feeding station.

Patterns that are realistic or exact are often works of art and deserve recognition as such. If you actually put one on the water, it is much like taking a model airplane that you spent many hours building and then crashing it into the ground. Perfection can be achieved, but is it practical or necessary?

It is sometimes difficult to distinguish whether a fly pattern should be categorized suggestive or impressionistic. Both of these types of patterns can depict anything from a simple, imperfect, almost nondescript, form of fish food to a more distinct, deceptive imagery. It has been my experience that these are the patterns that take most of the fish. It is also my belief that suggestive realism is all we really need to aim for in tying our flies.

To me, a finished fly is much like a painting. There are margins for interpretation. The expression, It is all in the eye of the beholder, can definitely be applied to tied flies. I may perceive a particular wet-fly pattern as a drowned adult aquatic insect, where you may conclude it is an emerging insect. But the most important consideration is, what did the fish perceive the fly as? Did it perceive it as a caddisfly or a mayfly?

I am, and always have been, a sincere believer in tying the correct size, action, color, and silhouette of my flies. I have always had the greatest success when I try to simulate the naturals. I also take into consideration the waters on which I will use my fly: the lighting, the clarity of the water, and the swiftness of the current, if any. Fish react instinctively to visual sightings; however, it is not practical to treat fish as a higher life form than they really are.

Entomology, or the study of insects, is quite a fascinating field of study. But it is so broad that it is impossible for even the experts to have a good working knowledge of all the species. They can usually specialize in only one or two orders. Entomologists still have a lot of unexplored and undiscovered areas in their field. New insects are being discovered all the time. And some insects exist only in small, pocketed areas. Needless to say, the study of insects by the fly fisherman, while he or she is out on the water, becomes an interesting challenge. Exact insect identification is not always possible, or even expected. General speculation becomes the rule. My best advice is not to get too hung up on identification if you encounter a new bug and just concentrate on simulation when you are tying your flies. Most fly-tying books stay pretty general in their descriptions and this book is no exception.

Here is the procedure I follow whenever I fish a new area. I tip over a few rocks and collect specimens from every streambed that I visit. I use a tiny, aquarium-type net for catching the bugs, and I put them in small, one-ounce bottles, with tight-fitting caps, filled with isopropyl rubbing alcohol. I label the containers with the place and the date. Light weakens insect colors, so I store them away from any light source. I have been able to preserve a good number of samples for years. You do not have to be a schooled entomologist to collect insects and try simulating them on a hook. I hope you will be encouraged to tip a few rocks on your own.

You would be surprised at the variety of food a fish has on its menu. It is just as though you or I were going through a giant smorgasbord trying to determine what looks good enough to go on our plates that day. No wonder our fish seem to be so selective. Nevertheless, I know reasonably well what I need to carry with me on a return visit to an area from where I collected samples.

If your inquisitiveness leads you to want to know more, most major colleges and universities are more than happy to assist you in identification. In fact, they will probably be elated to have someone help them with their fieldwork. I was given warm response, support, and encouragement during all of my interactions with the Entomology Department at the University of California at Davis. Here in Montana we have a very aggressive, ongoing entomology program at the University of Montana in Missoula, and I have been welcomed and encouraged there as well.

Many fly fishermen become intimidated when the insects are referred to by their scientific names. I avoid using those names in conversation and have included the scientific names in this book just for reference. Your concern should be in finding enjoyment in the sport and, if in doubt, the term bug is the best universal means of identification that I know. When I sit down to a steak dinner, I expect beef. I certainly do not care if it is Black Angus or Poll Hereford. If it looks good, I’ll eat it. I am sure that fish view their meals much as I do.

In this book I have attempted to give a complete description of each fly pattern. I believe that even the novice will be able to follow along after thoroughly reviewing the Getting Started Chapter. Where there is any doubt, I have added illustrations of a design or patterns for clarification. In some cases I have even gone against using traditional terms and used simplified terms. I know from my experience with instructing others that words alone do not always get the message across. I sincerely hope that I have contributed something meaningful to all fly fishers, including the younger fly fishers among us. May they carry on our traditions.

There is a certain feeling that I wish many more in our sporting art would adopt and I would like to pass on this message that comes from Eric Leiser’s book, Fly-Tying Materials (1973):

Without being maudlin, I like to think that the fraternity of fly tiers and fisherman is very special. A bond links us, one to the other, in all things relevant to our pursuits; and this bond should preclude the petty jealousy and envy that produce these secrets that others keep to themselves.

—Terry Hellekson Libby, Montana

Introduction

In March 1997, as I was driving east on Highway 2 out of the Idaho panhandle into northwestern Montana, I became very apprehensive as I found myself literally having to plow through the snow. Flakes as big as silver dollars fell and overloaded my windshield wipers time and time again. What a contrast from the Sacramento Valley that I had left just a few days earlier, where some of the trees in the orchards had already started to bloom. I was heading for the last best place: Libby, Montana.

My father first brought me to this part of the world when I was ten years old. We used to float the Kootenai River for days, catching some remarkable fish. Although we returned a number of times after that, it was never enough and we both dreamed of how wonderful it would be to someday come here and never have to leave. My father never quite made it, but now it was finally coming true for me.

The fishing forecast for the Kootenai River that year was gloomy. Some say over thirteen feet of snow fell in the Kootenai River Valley, to say nothing of the snow they received in Canada where the Kootenai originates. The runoff that year was as expected with that kind of winter. I was anxious to go fishing, but the water was too high and fast. I was getting a bit frustrated. Finally, I received word one day in August that a world record rainbow, over 33 pounds, had been taken by the David Thompson Bridge on the Kootenai. That got my adrenaline going! I now had a renewed excitement and I knew after seeing this magnificent country once more, I wanted to write again. However, I also realized that there were many obstacles in my path that might prevent me from doing one of the things I love.

Before I left California, I had placed my personal belongings into storage temporarily. Shortly after my arrival in Montana, my daughter contacted me to report that some perpetrators had taken all of my fly-fishing books, manuscripts, pictures, fly-tying tools, materials, and other priceless memorabilia from the storage facility. This was disheartening, to say the least, as much of it was of no consequence to anyone except me. After learning of this, I felt it would be impossible to reconstruct years of work and collecting, and I despaired of doing any more writing. One day, while I was having my car repaired, a fellow drove up and I noticed his license plates read, ANGLISH. As he walked by me I could not resist commenting on his choice of plates. On introducing ourselves, we recognized each other’s names; he was Glenn Overton of Wonder Wax fame. Although I had often purchased his wax, I had never connected him with Libby, Montana.

Right away, Glenn had to show me all of the access points on the Kootenai River. It was not long before I realized why they called this one of the best tail-water fisheries in North America, and I’ve been fishing the Kootenai tirelessly ever since. While getting some great fishing under our belts, Glenn and I came to know each other rather well. As a result of our common interest and friendship, Glenn offered me the use of his extensive fly-fishing library. With a lot of hard work, I was finally able to reconstruct much of what I lost in the way of manuscripts. In many ways the whole experience of the loss of my personal library and collections might have been an awakening, as it forced me to look at my writing from a whole new perspective. And thanks to Glenn, I was able to work with a very complete fly-fishing library.

It is said that we are our own worst critics and I am no exception. I’ll be the first to say that the first edition of Fish Flies, with another publisher, was not as complete as I had envisioned and it lacked clarity in some places. Thanks to my wife, Patricia, who has devoted huge amounts of time typing at the keyboard and working with the graphics, this edition of Fish Flies is what I wanted to create from the beginning. I would still be struggling had it not been for her support, her work, and her love of fly-fishing. It is nice to have a partner who loves fly-fishing as much as I do.

I still feel somewhat guilty that the state of Montana grants me permission to fish their waters for a mere $6.00 Conservation Stamp annually. I often encounter seasoned fly fishers from many parts of North America and Europe in our little town of Libby, some of whom must pay considerably more for the chance to fish where I fish. I also feel a tiny twinge of guilt, or is it pride? when I introduce myself as a local. The looks are not just disbelief, I am sure they are of envy. I live in the most ideal setting in the world. These traveling anglers have a considerable amount to offer and I learn something from each one I meet. Some of them stay for weeks, or even months, and our daily contacts broaden all of our perspectives with regard to fly-fishing.

During the winter months, when I finally give up cleaning ice from my fly line, I stop and reflect and start writing. I wrote my first book, Popular Fly Patterns, in 1976, and I followed up with the first edition of Fish Flies in 1995. Throughout all these years, I have had an obsession to discover and write about the true history of fly-fishing and identify some of the main people involved with the sport. As a consequence of my interest in the history and the legends, I have also been able to gather and record some of our more innovative and productive fly patterns and fly-tying techniques.

As a young man, my thoughts and opinions about fly-fishing in general were often rejected. I cannot count the number of times I was told that I was too young and lacked the experience to offer such tokens of wisdom. Then one day I woke up to find that I was being told I was old-fashioned and I was not in tune with how things are being done these days. I didn’t lose any sleep over it, but there were periods when I was behind my fly-tying vise where I gave some serious thought to all of this.

This is also when I came to realize that there was much wisdom in the saying, The more things change the more they actually stay the same. There will never be a time when all that can be known about fly-fishing has been discovered. It would probably require us to develop the ability to have dialogue with the game fish that we prey upon. As interesting as that could be, man will regress to the Stone Age before he ever has more than a one-sided dialogue with those critters.

When I mull over these past sixty-five years, I am thankful that my father was such an example to me. My father first started collecting information for a book in 1940—it was never finished. I regret that he passed away before my first book was published. So much of what he taught me blends in with my own experiences and it is difficult to differentiate between the two. In addition, my many years in the fly-fishing business have brought me in contact with a great number of people who have the same love of fly-fishing that I have. I feel very fortunate that I have been able to associate with some of the most knowledgeable people in this sport. I can’t even begin to identify the origins of the many ideas I have amassed today or just who planted certain seeds of knowledge. These are people who have willingly brushed their egos aside to share in a mutual exchange of ideas.

This book is not just another vast array of fly patterns. It is a comprehensive book on fly-fishing and fly-tying history; fly-tying colors; fly patterns; and fly-tying tools, hooks, materials, and methods. It gives specific patterns for dry flies, wet flies, and nymphs; following up with a broad selection of patterns for mayflies, stoneflies, and caddisflies and depicting them in their respective cycles of life. And it continues with terrestrials, damselflies and dragonflies, leeches and worms, midges, crustaceans, streamers, shad flies, steelhead flies, Atlantic salmon flies, Spey flies, Pacific salmon flies, and salmon and steelhead dry flies. You’ll even get the history of some individual fly patterns.

I am a strong believer in experimenting with most of the newer materials; however, I try to keep it all in focus, realizing they may be gone tomorrow. I know that progress can be brought about only with our experiments—that’s part of the unending fun of it all.

It is unfortunate that more of our truly talented imaginers are seldom discovered or given recognition when it is due, so I have tried to give credit as appropriate. Equally I have tried to give the fly patterns as correctly as possible.

During the early part of the last century there was very little in print with regard to fly patterns. Fortunately there were a few professional fly tiers that were aggressive enough to publish catalogues for their flies. These were small, black-and-white publications with no illustrations. To make up for the lack of illustrations, reasonably good descriptions were given for each fly offered, consequently rendering a fly-pattern directory. Walt Dette’s of Roscoe, New York, put out a catalogue in 1935 that listed one hundred and seven dry flies. Around the same time J. Duckett, Cascade Tackle Company, Medford, Oregon, had a small directory that listed all types of flies. While reviewing these, I find it interesting to discover just how many of the patterns are still in use today. Unfortunately, some fly patterns and several of the originators of many patterns have been lost in the haze of antiquity and we will never know all with certainty.

Although some of the fly patterns I have given are not on our top ten list today, they were productive in their time, and it is necessary to list them for historical purposes. They are the foundation for many of the flies we tie and fish with today.

The Beginning

The search for the first fly fishermen is one that will never be concluded. To even think that we might find that particular era we could call first would be improbable. Ancient angling literature has not been all that forthcoming and much has to be presumed from other historical documents. To fully know the extent of fly-fishing in older times and in older literature, the English-speaking world will just have to patiently wait for translations to come forth. However, as we shall see, sport fishing has been a part of many time periods and segments of human society.

The Earliest Fly Fishermen

In Rome, the rhetorician Claudius Aelianus wrote of the Macedonians’ methods of fly-fishing in his book, De Peculari Quadam Pisato indu Macedonia. Their stream was the River Astraeus, located between Thessalonica and Boroea. They cast feathered hooks intended to represent a Hipporous, an insect similar to a bee or a wasp. Aelian has been recognized as the first to record the use of artificial flies. Although he did not personally witness this form of fishing, he described it in his chapter, De Natura Animalium (On the Nature of Animals or On the Characteristics of Animals), which was dated about A.D. 200. The following are excerpts:

"These fish feed on a fly which is peculiar to the country, and which hovers over the river. It is not like the flies found elsewhere, nor does it resemble a wasp in appearance, nor in shape would one justly describe it a midge or bee, yet it has something of each of these. In boldness it is like a fly, in size you might call it a bee; it imitates the color of a wasp, and it hums like a bee.

They fasten red wool round a hook and fix on to the wool two feathers which grow under a cock’s wattles and which in colour are like wax. Their pole is six feet long and their line of the same length. Then they throw their snare, and the fish, maddened and excited by the colour, come straight at it, thinking by the sight to get a dainty mouthful; when, however, it opens its jaws, it is caught by the hook and enjoys a bitter repast, a captive.

Granted, this was not fly-fishing as we practice it today, or was it? Obviously the fish saw the fly from the same viewpoint then as they do now, only the delivery system has changed. From Aelian’s writings, it appears that these imitations were at least floating or presented in the surface film. The tackle, a six-foot pole and line, gives us even further clues, especially in the limited presentation by the angler. Obviously the only feasible method was to dap the fly on or in the surface film of the water. You can’t do much else with such a short pole and line. From the viewpoint of the fish, if it floats and looks edible, that is sometimes enough. And, judging by other hints Aelian gives us in his writings, the quarry appears to have been a species of trout. We also don’t know much about other fly designs, other than those that happened to be recorded. But it is possible that use of the floating fly may well antedate such early efforts to match the hatch.

It is not clear from the account whether the Macedonians were fishing for food or for sport, although we may infer it was for sport. Food fishermen, such as those in the New Testament of the Bible, like Simon Peter of Galilee, always went for quantity and used comprehensive equipment, such as a net. The rod, the line, and the artful lure generally are indications of an angler in the patient exercise of his craft, seeking to deceive a single fish. In any event, Aelian’s Macedonians of about A.D. 200 are certainly the first fly fishermen of record.

Of fishermen before the Macedonians we have tantalizing glimpses, but no coherent history. We know, however, that the angler’s tackle—rod, line, and hook—has an ancient heritage and that it appears among the earliest evidence of human society on earth. Archaeologists at the site of Ur in the valley of the Euphrates unearthed fish hooks dating from 2600 B.C., well made and not unlike those in use today.[¹] The Egyptian tombs at Beni Hassan depict fishing on several wall murals and history tells us that it was a leisure sport among the wealthier Egyptians of the Early Dynastic period about 4000 years ago and subsistence was not the only reason for fishing. Additional proof that it was a leisure sport among the nobles was that kings did not eat fish, due to their religion, and therefore probably angled for sport.[²] Only the poorer subjects ate fish. Most pictures during this period illustrate nets and fishing rods being used to catch fish. One of the oldest known wall murals of fishermen using a rod was found at Beni Hassan (Tomb of Khnumhotep).[³] The Saqqara tombs of the Old Kingdom depict fishing as a recreation along with other murals of wrestling, swimming, and various sports.[⁴]

Beni Hassan, Egyptian fishermen circa. 2000 BC

The prophet Isaiah said: The fishers also shall mourn, and all they that cast angle in the brooks shall lament and they that spread nets upon the waters shall languish (Isaiah 19:8). Hooks, spears, and nets, but no mention of the rod or pole.

Plato and Aristotle also mention angling in the centuries before Christ and Mestrius. Plutarchus, known to history as Plutarch, (45–120 A.D.), was a Greek writer and

lecturer and gave some fishing advice in two of his writings, De Industria Animalium and the Life of Antonius. The line should be braided horsehair, he says, and that used next to the hook should be taken from a white horse. He believed a stallion’s tail hairs were the strongest and the best, the gelding’s next, and the mare’s least effective because of the weakening effect of her urine upon them.

Izaak Walton in his book, The Compleat Angler (1653), gives directions for making a line and for the coloring of both rod and line. He tells of Plutarch’s observations about the sporting barbell fish and how it likes to break the line with it tail. Walton states, And he that reads Plutarch, shall find that angling was not contemptible in the days of Mark Antony and Cleopatra, and that they in the midst of their wonderful glory used angling as a principal recreation. In a history of Mark Antony, it is said that Cleopatra laughed at Antony’s fishing skills and said Imperator, hand over thy fishing rod to the fishermen . . . thy sport is the hunting of cities, realms and continents.5[⁵]

A likely assumption about sport angling in that time period is that it might have been confined to the higher echelons of society; those privileged few with wealth, leisure time, and confidence that their next meal would arrive promptly.

British Fly-Fishing in the 1400s

The first encounter of fishing for sport in English literature is a full description of a rod for angling in a remarkable essay entitled A Treatyse of fysshynge wyth and angle. It is part of the second edition of The Boke of St. Albans, printed in 1496 in England, and written by Dame Juliana Berners. It is interesting that a woman is considered by some as the fountainhead of fishing wisdom. Also interesting are the recurrent efforts to try and prove the author was a masculine Julyans Bernes or Barnes.

Dame Juliana Berners deals at length with the fishing rod, but perhaps the most fascinating of Dame Juliana’s instructions concerns artificial lures. She had observed, or learned, that the insects which swarmed over a stream, came and went according to a consistent seasonal cycle. It followed that there was a relationship between this cycle and the feeding habits of fish and that the successful angler would be the one whose lures most closely approximated the insect in season. In other words, he or she who could best match the hatch would take the most fish.

Interestingly enough, the fly Dame Juliana Berners describes first is the same red hackle that Aelian’s Macedonians used on the Astraeus. She is most specific in recommending a body of roddy wull and wings of redde capons hakyll. It is most effective, she says, at the begynning of Maye.

To match the hatch more carefully, Dame Juliana Berners developed a set of twelve fly patterns to be used in different months of the year. Her descriptions are precise enough that copies can be readily tied today. The Angler’s Club of New York has a set of the famous dozen tied by Dr. Warren Coleman and mounted by William Vreeland of the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Dame Juliana described her fly patterns as follows: These are the twelve flies with which you shall angle for the trout and grayling; and dub them like you will now hear me tell:

March. (1) The dun fly the body of dun wool and the wings of the partridge.

(2) Another dun fly, the body of black wool; the wings of the blackest drake; and the jay under the wing and under the tail.

April. (3) The stone fly, the body of black wool, and yellow under the wing and under the tail; and the wings, of the drake.

(4) In the beginning of May, a good fly, the body of reddened wool and lapped about with black silk; the wings, of the drake and the red capon’s hackle.

May. (5) The yellow fly, the body of yellow wool; the wings of red cock hackle and of the drake dyed yellow.

(6) The black leaper, the body of black wool and lapped about with the herl of the peacock’s tail: and the wings of the red capon with a blue head.

June. (7) The dun cut: the body of black wool, and a yellow stripe after either side; the wings of the buzzard, bound on with barked hemp.

(8) The maure fly, the body of dusky wool, the wings of the blackest male of the wild drake.

(9) The tandy fly at St. William’s Day, the body of tandy wool; and the wings contrary either against the other, of the whitest breast feathers of the wild drake.

July. (10) The wasp fly, the body of black wool and lapped about with yellow thread: the wings of the buzzard.

(11) The shell fly at St. Thomas’ Day, the body of green wool and lapped about with the herl of the peacock’s tail: wings of the buzzard.

August. (12) The drake fly, the body of black wool and lapped about with black silk: wings of the breast feathers of the blackest drake, with a black head.

The other English writers who followed Dame Juliana Berners made small contributions, but by and large were content to rework or plagiarize her work. And it wasn’t until the last fifty years that records of fly-fishing in other early cultures have been discovered.

European Fly Fishermen

In 1958, historians discovered a manuscript from 1624, El Manuscrito de Astorga, by Juan de Begara (Vegara) in Madrid, Spain. It listed philosophies and detailed the dressings for fly styles unknown in England. The flies were given according to the seasons, month by month, and essentially suggested angling methods on the surface of the water.

More recently, there has been evidence of fly-fishing being even more widespread over the European continent. It appears now that our earliest known documented evidence comes from Germany where catching trout and grayling with a feathered hook (vederangel) was mentioned around 1210.[⁶]

British Fly-Fishing in the 1600s

The next notable contribution was made in 1613 when John Dennys wrote The Secrets of Angling. This has become a significant book in fly-fishing history. It contains the first illustration of a fishing fly (Bark 1992).

In 1651, Thomas Barker wrote Art of Angling, which dealt with the English streams and flies of greatest creddit. This too has become a notable book in fly-fishing history.

The first edition of The Compleat Angler by Izaak Walton was published in 1653. Most of his advice had been gleaned from earlier English literature on the subject.

Strangely enough, he himself did little fishing with flies. However, he does write like a true worshipper of nature and he goes through an impressively wide range of questions with which a sports fisherman ought to be familiar. He also tells the reader how to braid, knot, and prepare a horse’s tail in order to make the best possible line. In 1676, when Izaak Walton was eighty-three, the fifth edition of The Compleat Angler was issued with a new section entitled Instructions How to Angle for a Trout or Grayling in a Clear Stream. It was written by Charles Cotton, Walton’s old fishing companion for many years, and concerned the use of artificial flies. Cotton gave a list of sixty-five named trout flies.

The Upside-Down Fly and Other Designs

Another figure in fly-fishing literature is the Cromwellian soldier, Colonel Robert Venables. Venables had been less than successful in a campaign in the West Indies in 1655. Oliver Cromwell, British Lord General of the army, expressed his displeasure, labeled Venables a deserter, and put him into the Tower of London without a trial, where he was kept for an unknown period of time. Venables was one of the leading fly fishermen of his time, and while imprisoned, he wrote The Experienced Angler (1662). Here is what he had to say about the first upside-down fly design:

If I turn the feathers round the hook, then I clip away those that are on the back of the hook that so (if it be possible) the point of the hook may be forced by the feathers (left on the inside of the hook) to swim upwards; and by this means I conceive that the stream will carry your Flies wings in the posture of one flying; whereas if you set the point of the wings backwards towards the bending of the hook, the stream (if the feathers be gentle as they ought) will fold the points of the wings in the bending of the hook, as I have often found by experience.

Because the restoration of the Stuart Monarchy occurred at the time Venables wrote his book, he became what some have called a casualty of the period. Due to Venables’s earlier failure in the West Indies, which was considered a major military setback for the Commonwealth and an embarrassment for Cromwell, the public’s opinion of Venables was lessened and had long-lasting effects, thus his imprisonment. Upon Venables’s release from the Tower, he played no further part in public life. Since that time, a number of British fishing experts have concluded that Venables was more knowledgeable than Charles Cotton. However, Venables’s book was written for a different purpose than Cotton’s—to describe fly-fishing techniques. Cotton listed named trout fly patterns while Venables listed none.

Venables’s upside-down fly

Fly tiers both in Great Britain and America have revisited Venables’s upside­down theory again and again, each time discovering that the weight of the bend of the hook cannot be successfully overcome by redesigning Venables’s original creation.

American J. L. Mullaly patented his version of the upside-down fly. Mullaly was granted patent number 139,180 on 20 May 1873 for his improvement in angling flies. It reads:

A fly thus constructed will be found more deceptive and consequently more serviceable than those commonly employed. The hook being concealed will be readily and unsuspectingly taken by the fish. The wings will form a sort of float and the hook operates as ballast, so that the fly retains its natural position on the water, and even if it should become inverted it will right itself readily.

More recently, Gary LaFontaine introduced his own upside-down Dancing Caddis design in his book, Caddisflies (1981). And in England, Brian Clarke and John Goddard created their Upside-Down Paraduns.

By the time R. Brookes published The Art of Angling (1770), the designs of the flies were beginning to show some of the features of the flies we take for granted today, not just isolated innovations. The picture on his title page has been used in modern British and American fly-fishing literature a number of times, often though, without indicating the date, and with the names of the flies blanked out. However, the Ant Fly tells us that anglers were aware of the terrestrials and were tying flies in their likeness. The Great Dun and the Palmer are without question forerunners to our Bi-Visibles, to say nothing of the Woolly Worms.

Frontispiece from The Art of Angling, Brookes, London 1770

English author George C. Bainbridge, wrote The Fly Fisher’s Guide in 1816. Here is what he has to say about the dry fly and the Green Drake in particular: This fly should be thrown directly over the fish, and so managed, if possible, that the wings not touch the water. To my knowledge, this is the first specific recorded reference to the floating fly. He further expressed a desire that his book would become an inspiration to someone more competent to write a complete work on water insects.

Early Fly-Fishing in America

In North America, the use of fishing flies to capture fish goes back before recorded history. Archaeologists have been able to determine that fishing flies were used here in North America long before the first white settlers. Crudely fashioned fishhooks have been identified in Native American ruins on both sides of the continent. Their use is particularly evident in the Pacific Northwest and in the New England states.

The early colonists brought the sport of fly-fishing with them. They also witnessed a form of fly-fishing being practiced by the Native Americans. Deer hair and feathers from local birds were quickly adopted into the colonists’ creations. The fly-fishing sport followed the migration westward. It seems that wherever the wilderness had been pushed back far enough for settlers to relax a little, fishing for fun became a pastime.

The Schuylkill Fishing Company was founded in 1732, the first of a number of recreational groups which sprang up in Pennsylvania. However, this movement was not true sport fishing with a fly. True sport fly-fishing only began gaining acceptance through its popularity with notable people. Daniel Webster as a youth was active in his recreational fishing at his favorite stream, Punch Brook, in New Hampshire. And in later years he went after the big trout of the Cape Cod area. It was reported when he lived in New York that directly after church services on Sunday morning, the whole congregation followed him to his beloved river to watch him in pursuit of a giant brook trout. This incident was apparently commemorated by Currier and Ives, years after the fact, with a lithograph depicting him in the pursuit of his giant brook trout. Henry Ward Beecher, an incorrigible clergyman, was also an enthusiast. Patrick Henry had an excessive appetite for the leisure life and spent much of his time fishing, hunting and exploring.[⁷] A biographer lent charm to his picture of the youthful Patrick Henry by describing him as a frivolous type who could be found over the brook with his angle-rod. Fly-fishing tackle of the celebrated Americans such as Daniel Webster, Samuel Morse, Andrew Carnegie, Ernest Hemingway, and others, can be viewed at the American Fly Fishing Museum in Vermont, which also includes old literary works and significant fly-fishing memorabilia from American history. Interestingly, it was Hemingway who used trout fishing as a literary device in some of his works.

Daniel Webster with brook trout

In America the pipeline for British products was cut off for a long time after 1776 due to the Revolutionary War; however, the only real tackle item of interest was fish­hooks, and these were available from the French, Dutch, and other sources. Although the Loyalists left behind thousands of acres and many miles of favorable fishing streams, the utmost priority of the new country was to resettle the land and expand even farther west. Hooks to the settlers were almost as important as bullets for their guns. They were more concerned with their larder than with sport fishing. Fly-fishing as we like to think of it today had yet to really be born in North America—it was awaiting a healthy economy and a new culture, which was in the making.

According to the angling historian Austin S. Hogan, the earliest written reference to fly-fishing in America dates from 1775. Fly-fishing was known before this time, but the documented records begin there. The first real interest in sport fishing came in the 1830s on Long Island and in the Adirondacks, when anglers started to be intrigued with trout.

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