Posts Tagged ‘fly tying’

I’ve been looking at some of the newer (and very expensive) fly boxes that are now available. It’s seems funny to me that many of them are being sold as if “waterproofness” was a big deal as far as fishing flies. One company says of their boxes,

“These boxes have an absolute airtight seal with a recessed silicone gasket and postive locking system. They will NOT leak!”

I’m not too worried about my fly boxes “leaking.” They are seldom filled with water in the first place. But perhaps they mean that these boxes won’t leak in. But so what if they do? I’m going to be taking flies out of the box anyhow, and putting the fly in water. Sure, it will dry somewhat if I give the fly a few quick casts in the air before returning it to the fly box but it will still likely have some moisture on it – and now I’m putting it back into a “waterproof” box? For what purpose?

I suppose if I drop the fly box in water, I don’t want water getting into the box. However, the odd time I have dropped a plastic fly box into the water, I was able to grab it in time as it floated before much moisture got in to it. If I’m fishing situations where I can’t get the box because the current is too fast, I’m unlikely to ever see that fly box again anyhow, waterproof or not.

How often do you drop your fly boxes into the river?

Another company says this about their waterproof fly boxes:

“Moisture proof so flies stay dry”

Huh? Are these flies you are planning on using for fishing?

Here’s the thing: If you are using a waterproof box – unless they have come up with some new waterproof breathable material for fly boxes, once you shut that box, there is no evaporation or air flow going on. Put a slightly damp fly into a waterproof box, it has less chance that it will completely dry in a waterproof box than one that is not waterproof.

As far as long term storage, I’m not too worried about humidity getting into my fly boxes and ruining the flies. When I went to visit the Canadian Sport Fishing museum in British Columbia some years ago, they had a collection of Alexander Haig-Brown’s flies on display – and they weren’t kept in any waterproof fly boxes. They seemed quite fishable to me after all these years, too.

I have a collection of nymphs and other wet flies in fly boxes that my father owned. When he passed on, I inherited the boxes. The fly boxes are not waterproof and I know my dad fished those flies – getting them wet. I’m sure he did not dry every single one of them carefully before returning them to the fly box – and guess what? After more than ten years, those flies are still quite fine!

Personally, I think you risk more damage through material rot and rusting of hooks when using a waterproof box that does not allow for evaporation and airflow. If I were to have waterproof boxes that I used regularly, I think I’d probably drill a few tiny holes in it.

What’s your opinion? Worth the extra money to get waterproof fly boxes or do they really serve a purpose worth the extra cost? Tell me in the comment section.

David, my “wee man,” has come down with a bit of a bug and Colleen (still seems weird at my age to call her my “girlfriend”) is visiting her mom in Nova Scotia for Christmas.  So, I’ve been tying flies.  David came down with a cough, a bit of a fever and was feeling lethargic all day.  One of his gifts was a new bobbin for his fly tying as well as some other new materials, and I let him open that gift this evening.  I thought a smaller bobbin in his hands might be easier for him.

When he opened the gift, he thanked me like I had just handed him a million dollars! When I asked him if he wanted to try out his new bobbin, he replied, “Maybe later Dad.”  He then promptly crawled back under the blanket but tried to reassure me he was “feeling fine.”

I also decided to pick up a new bobbin for myself – a “rite™ bobbin” which I’ve heard some guys talking about. I’ll post a review of it shortly. I’ve been using it this evening but can’t say I’ve exactly put it through its paces.

I’ve got this interest in chironomid fly patterns as well as scuds lately. Tonight, it was scuds, and I decided to tie some olive ones. I’m not sure how poor they are yet – I’ll have to give them a try sometime. They are quite basic – used Olive Uni thread, medium olive dubbing for the body, gold wire for ribbing, and clear plastic bag trimmed to fit for the back. I tied them on a Knapek scud hook, size 8 – a bit too big but the only scud hooks I have at the moment. And at that size, I think I need to dub a bit thicker around the middle body area.

Speaking of dubbing, I recently managed to get my hands on the complete 48 colour series of “Traditional Irish Dubbing” by Frankie McPhillips. If you like to experiment with a lot of different shades, you might want to give this a try. I haven’t counted up the different shades of olive that are available, but quite a few. There’s even a “Cow Dung” colour in one of the boxes. Not sure if there is anyone in North America that carries this dubbing, but I got mine from Stevie Munn in Northern Ireland.

Bed time for me, and hoping the “wee man” is feeling much better!

Merry Christmas to you all, too. I hope you have a great holiday.

Last week, I wrote about David tying up his first Woolly Bugger (sometimes called a Woolly Booger). This evening, David wanted to do some more tying so I thought it would be a good opportunity to review some basics with him and see what he remembered.

Before we started, he successfully named the parts of the hook and could identify the area where the “head” would be. He then recalled from memory what materials we’d need to tie an olive woolly bugger – thread, chenille, marabou, saddle hackle, lead wire and head cement and retrieved them from his fly tying kit. I was impressed! So instead of letting him watch the video instructions, I wondered how much of the directions he would remember on his own. But first, we practiced starting and wrapping thread around the hook shank. David did a fantastic job and had it nailed immediately. I was impressed with his neatness.

With little help from me, he had the hook shank wrapped with thread, the lead wire attached and secured, and the marabou wetted with his mouth and correctly sized for length. He did need some help holding the materials to the hook shank “just above the bend, right Dad?” and getting them secured. But after that, he recalled all the correct steps and in order. If he keeps this up, we might have another A. K. Best on our hands! I’d like that – if he can tie up all the flies I need that are smaller than a size 14. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves at this point.

When he had completed all the steps, he very carefully applied head cement to the head after I tied it off. He did find out how sharp a dubbing needle can be though, with a minor “boo boo” – but no complaints from him.

When the head cement dried, it was time to put the newly tied Woolly Bugger into David’s fly box beside the others. As he always does when he opens his fly box, he exclaimed, “I just love all of my flies, Dad!” And he looks at them admiringly and tries to remember what each one is called and asks me when he forgets. “Right. I knew that,” with a big smile on his face after I remind him of the name of one he’s forgotten.

He wanted me to take a photo of him with his fly box:

As you can see from the smile, the “wee man” is very proud of his fly collection so far, and he indicated that he can’t wait to catch a rainbow trout on one of them next year with his Snowbee Junior fly rod. Lord knows I’m hoping he will finally catch a fish with that that fly rod and reel outfit I got him for his birthday this year, too! And I’m glad that he’s still thinking that far ahead right now, with weather warnings about a big snow storm coming our way, he’s also looking forward to some cross country skiing as soon as possible.

As David went through the fly box, he asked about a couple of different patterns and one caught his attention – probably because he had seen me catch a number of fish with it in the past couple of years while stillwater fly fishing. The Copper Oval Tinsel chironomid. He asked what it was supposed to look like to a fish.

So, we went through the life cycle of a chironomid and how the eggs hatch at the bottom of the lake, and the pupae and larvae stages they go through before becoming a tiny small black fly often called a midge. David was quite impressed and compared this to what he knew about caterpillars and butterflies.

“Do you remember when I caught some fish using this chironomid, how I told you we had to fish it very slowly?” We then got into a discussion about how chironomid pupae and larvae don’t have tails, fins or muscles to propel themselves through the water quickly and depend on other factors to get them to the water surface – often very slowly, and meanwhile are good sources of food for fish.

David then disappeared from my office, only to reappear about twenty minutes later with this drawing I’ve had scanned:

David explained to me that this was his drawing of the life cycle of a chironomid (he forgot one of the stages, but that is ok). On the left, the eggs at the bottom of the lake. Then follow the arrow – the pupae stage. Floating at the mercy of the currents in the lake as it makes its way up toward the surface. When it finally gets there, it becomes a midge – and David decided to add his view looking down upon the water surface too.

Hmmm.. maybe not another A. K. Best, but an entomologist on my hands!