Still at the bench, sorting flies (spring is on its way)

Not much to report here, other than that the snow now comes and goes; spring seems to be peeking its head out from around the corner-bush; and the boxes are spilling over with new flies, which has left me resorting yet again to Tupperware for storage.  That’s actually not a bad way to keep the tube flies and the Intruders handy though, since neither one fits very well into your standard foam-bottom fly box.

Last week I did my yearly sort-all.

This is the time when I spread every fly I own and every new fly I’ve tied out across the tables and the floors and any and every other flat surface I can find within the house, and begin categorizing, and culling, and re-stationing them in their places for the season.  It sounds like a simple enough task, unless you’ve ever done it.  There are literally thousands of the things, ranging in sizes from upwards of twelve inches long down to #22′s that you practically need a magnifying glass just to see, and over the years I’ve been through a dozen or more theories on what the most practical way to organize them should be.  One is tempted to do it by type, and then size, and then color, or some variation of these characteristics, but in the volume that we are dealing with, what that ends up meaning is that you’ve got whole boxes filled up with flies which are more or less the same.  This necessitates allotting a great deal of space in the day-pack just to carry enough boxes for variety, and even at best there is never enough room.

Another approach is to put just a little bit of everything into each and every box, so that at any given moment on the water you’ve got handy some streamers, some natural dries, some attractors, a few nymphs, and so on, but the folly of that one is that you almost always have some idea about a particular fly you should be looking for, and invariably if you’ve taken this approach it is in another box back at the truck when you want it.  My friend Philip once suggested that I dump the whole lot of them into some sort of tumbler, mix them all around for a few hours, and then just grab out handfuls and stuff them into boxes entirely at random, making do out on the water with whatever the lottery allotted me.  I may still come around to trying that one some day.  Last year I decided to simply limit the number of repetitions in any given pattern and color that I would put in a given box, on the theory that one should not often run into situations in which they could go through more than a half a dozen, say, #2 6x Long Shank Green Giants in a given day, and that as long as the Tupperware back-ups were always at the lodge, I could refill the boxes each night as I needed to.  This worked to some degree, but there is still never enough room in the pack.  So, this year I’ve just ordered a much bigger pack…Invariably, and this is what chaps my hide the most, there are certain flies that I pull out of the boxes every year for the sorting, knowing full well that they are of a pattern, size, or style we didn’t use a single time the year before.  But also invariably, there was this one time, a few years before, when they were exactly what the doctor ordered in a certain isolated circumstance, and maybe even saved what could otherwise have turned out to be a fishless day.  The things take up space, and I know the chances are I’ll be sorting the same exact ones next winter without a single one having gotten wet, but I just can’t seem to bring myself to pull them out and set them aside for the season.  I mean, what if?  You know?

So in they go back in the boxes, neatly realigned and color/size coded – all of them except the throngs of dulled or torn or otherwise use-rendered-imperfect but still well appreciated for their excellent service recyclables (most of which do get recycled these days, into shanks for the Intruders or middle sections for three part articulated monsters), and the whole lot of it gets packaged back up into the boat bag and the day pack and even then there are boxes and Tupperware bins left unfilled and sitting on the bench, so I sit back down and tie some more.  It is as tedious as it sounds, but a good kind of work nonetheless, and I get to drink a lot of nice coffee in the process and hear good music all day to boot.The office of course requires some work as well, but as you can see I have cleverly combined the tying space and the laptop desk so that a quick swivel of the chair puts me in ready-position for either.  Only downside of this is that every once in a while when in the middle of a conference call with the Syzygy boys I get inspired by some feather just off to my right, and pretty soon I hear Steven saying “I can hear the thread-bobbin squeaking Justin” and have to swivel back around quickly enough to pretend I still know what they are talking about.  “Oh yeah, yeah, the J-query option sounds like a great fix” I say, and he groans.Everyone shoot me the news from up there when you have a chance; if it wasn’t for writing these blog posts I think I might forget how to speak English before the winter is over, and I would love very much to hear from you all.

~Justin

Tube flies – and introduction and tutorial

Most of you have probably at least heard of tube flies, but for many of my clients down here at least the concept is a vague one, and usually associated in their minds with Steelhead and Atlantic Salmon only.  Our fishery in my area of Argentina however is centered around rainbows, brookies, and browns, with the only difference between these fish and their northern-hemisphere counterparts being average size (they tend to err on the side of longer and heavier down here).  What goes along with that though is the need for us to use sometimes really big patterns to attract these beast’s attention, and in figuring out how far to push the envelope in that regard, a few years ago I started tying tube flies as a matter of convenience.  I haven’t turned back since, and now use tube flies not only for the trout down here in Patagonia but for Stripers in Cape Cod, bass in the farm ponds back in Georgia, and just about everything else streamer related in between.

For anyone who hasn’t ever seen or read about tube flies, the concept is essentially this:  Whatever pattern is being tied gets tied onto a hollow tube, generally of semi-flexible plastic or rigid metal, instead of a hook.  The tippet then gets passed through this tube, and the hook is tied directly to the tippet behind the fly.

What attracted me to the technique initially was the ability to stack any number of flies I wanted onto the tippet in front of my hook, and as such, the ability to effectively change the overall length of a streamer at any time without having to have separate flies tied at every length I might want to fish in a given situation.  This allowed me to set up over working fish and experiment with gradually increasing the length of my streamers in between catches until I had reached the “size limit” at which the fish stopped taking my flies.  As it turns out that limit was a whole lot bigger than even I had imagined, and the average weight of my catches increased in proportion to the length of my fly as I went up.  Nowadays, most of the time when I hand a client the first fly of a trip he looks at me like I must be joking, and often as not when I tell him I’m serious he asks me if he can borrow one of my nine weights to throw the thing.  That’s another advantage to the tube fly system though, the ability to add a lot of length and bulk to a fly without necessarily increasing its weight by too great a margin.  Many of the patterns I frequently fish that are significantly larger in length and profile than say, a Galloup’s Sex Dungeon, can comfortably be thrown on a six weight by most competent casters.

Another often quoted advantage of tube flies is that since the hook is not an attached part of the fly itself, in the event that it gets dinged on a rock, or rusts, or bends, you’re not in the position of having to accept the loss of the entire fly and its materials; you simply change out the hook and keep fishing.  Considering the cost in both money and time that goes into some of the patterns we fish in these larger streamers, that has come in handy already on a number of occasions.  Additionally you can experiment with hook size for a given pattern without tying several examples of it in order to do so.

Storage also becomes easier with tube flies.  Since they are hook-less until rigged for fishing they can be carried in just about anything, even a Ziplock bag in your vest pocket, which leaves the only necessity for a fly box being a very small one in which you can keep your selection of hooks.  I actually carry my tube patterns in a sort of envelope which was made for the storage of CD’s, allowing me to flip through the selection like a book.  And since there are no hooks in this container, re-storing wet flies there when the time comes to change patterns is never an issue.

One of the things that surprised me most though, when I first got started, was how much the spatial geometry of the tying process itself was changed by the removal of the hook bend and point from that equation.  It was like suddenly going from trying to row through a narrow canyon only two inches wider than my oar-span, to being in the middle of an ocean with a motor on the boat!  All 360 degrees of the space around the fly-center was available for the manipulation of thread and materials, with no sharp or obstructive objects in the way to impede my fingers or my imagination. It took me a little while to get rid of the ups and downs in my concepts of what a streamer should look like, but when I did, things came full circle, so to speak.   And the results that rendered on the water spoke volumes.

So – what does this all look like?  Basically the parts and the process are like this:

Tubes:  The tubes themselves come in a variety of materials, diameters, and configurations, and a decent selection of these can be found on websites like Canadian Tube FliesFly Fish USA, and TubeFlies.com, among others.  I prefer the semi-rigid plastic tubes which I can cut to any length I want and then prepare for tying by burning them slightly on one end to create a “lip” for the thread to sit up against like a stopper at the flies head, where you eventually whip-finish or cement when done tying.

Dowel or Vise Adapter:  There are a number of “setups” for converting fly tying vises into tube fly tying vises on the market, but after having purchased and discarded several now I offer the following simple, cheap solution.  I use allen-wrenches of various diameters (matched to the inside diameters of the tubes I am working with – see photos below for what this looks like), which I then wrap in a layer or two of tying thread.  This solution prevented me from having to purchase a special steel pin in every diameter I might tie tubes with, and also solved the problem of “freeze” that can occur when you’ve tied a tube fly with a bit too much thread tension and then find that you can no longer remove it from the dowel.  I’ve never had that happen with the thread-wrapped allen wrench solution, and find that the ease of use offered by the ability to just clamp a new allen wrench into my vise without the need for an adapter any time I change tubing diameters saves me a lot of time anyway at the bench.

Materials and Patterns:  Beyond the basic set-up, much of the materials used to tie tube lies are the same as for their corresponding patterns tied on hooks.  A variety of cone and bead heads are available that can be slipped onto the tube and seated up against the burned lip for forward-weight, or else a lead or non-toxic wrap can be run up the shank before the flies body is added, just like when tying on hooks.  Pretty much any existing pattern can be tied as a tube fly, but I am unsure of the advantages (if any exist) of trying to create smaller dries and nymphs this way, and as such tend to limit my tube-tying to streamers.  Patterns can be found online through a variety of websites with the obvious search criteria, but tend to focus mainly on salmon and steelhead patterns still.  With just a bit of creativity though, you’ll find that any of your favorite patterns can be tied as tubes, with the added advantage of stacking-scalability and better symmetry added into the mix.

What follows are some photos of a few of the patterns I’ve worked up over the last few days getting the CD cases ready for opening day on November 1st, and a single thread of step by step photos showing the process of what it looks like to create one of these buggers.  I hope you all enjoy!  Feel free to write if any of this happens to pique your interest and you have questions.