An Angler Most Blasphemous
By Kevin Fancy
From Fly Fishing Canada, Published by Johnson Borman Publishers
I am a heathen among fly fishers. Yes, to some I am a sinner
of hell-bound proportions because, despite tradition, I will
use any legal fly-fishing method to catch fish. Is this morally
wrong, or am I just an opportunistic angler with some mighty
powerful techniques under my fishing vest? I prefer to think
I'm simply versatile, with a few years of logic and experience
on my side, but other anglers have been less kind.
My first experience with nonconventional fly fishing was,
coincidentally, my first fly-fishing experience. It was a
fine spring day when I was taken to the backwoods by a fishing
buddy who goes by the moniker of "Mac" (this because he has
one of those old, oddly spelled Scottish name that no one can
pronounce without someone offering to perform the Heimlich
Maneuver). At Mac's suggestion, I had armed myself the day
before with a brand new 8-weight rod and a sink-tip line.
Our destination was a small lake, maybe 1-2 miles (1.6-3.2km),
west of Ottawa, Ontario. Our quarry were the elusive (or so
I was led to believe) brown trout. We slipped our boat into
the water around 9:00 A.M. only to find a couple of others had
beat us to this remote lake. By 11:00 A.M. there were six boats
stirring up the lake, including ourselves.
It is a well-known fact that while hunting the wily brown in
The East, there is no need to get up early as they seldom bite
before 10:00 A.M. As I recall, the occpants of two boats were
trolling gangs, one with minnows, the other with worms. Anglers
in two other boats were still-fishing in likely areas with
unknown baits, and the other boat was drifting as its two
occupants works plugs willy-nilly.
We all bucked and weaved, doing our best to offer space to
each other, and when the opportunity arose to survey the luck
of each other, we did so as friendly anglers do. We discovered
that by high noon, none of the others had managed to bag more
than a few sunfish. Conversely, Mac and I, who were trolling
flies, had taken our first trut around 10:00 A.M. - an
eye-pleasing brown of 3 lb (1.4 kg). By 11 we had missed several
strikes but had boated another brown almost identical to the first.
About the time the sun hit its apex, the mini-armada started
closing in on us. Having noticed our luck, they watched what
we were doing, trying their best to find out what kind of bait
we were using. There was nothing secretive on our part; we were
simply so busy catching (and missing) fish, we didn't take time
to explain.
Soon, a line of boats was trailing us like a string of baby
ducks following their mother. Some drew so close to our stern
that we knew they were riding directly over our flies. It didn't
matter. In full view of everyone, Mac and I nailed two more fish,
one right after the other. That seemed to be the proverbial
straw, for the other boats pulled away one by one and headed
for shore.
We followed soon after so we could grab a bite of lunch at the
truck. Only one other boat remained in the water when we arrived,
for the others were all being packed out. While our boat was
pulled onto shore, there was quite a commotion as 11 curious
anglers descended upon us like black flies to see if we were
willingly share our secret.
We showed them our fish, the flies we had used and the way
we rigged them. We even offered some of our more successful
patterns for them to try, for the true spriti of good sportsmanship
is helping out others whenever you can. Only two anglers took
us up on our offer. They immediately launched their boats
again, and, in full view of everyone, proceeded to catch a nice
brown not 50' (15 m) from shore. After that, our fly boxes
were quickly picked clean. We prudently kept our best patterns
for the day, offering our doubles or whatever other patterns
the anglers thought might work. Later as we sat in the shade
and ate our lunches, the newly initiated anglers gathered
around us while Mac and I lectured them about the acquistion
and various uses of flies.
This happened 20 years ago, when the art of trolling flies
seemed to have been forgotten by all but the most seasonsed
of fly fishers and was against everything fly-fishing purists
held sacred. Today, fly trollers are still looked down
upon with disdain by those in tight rubber suits with frozen
nether parts and wet feet. However, a wise man once said,
"Necessity is the mother of invention," which is why I troll
flies and still spread the word today.
Although Canada has thousands of streams and rivers which can
be plied the "acceptable, old-fashioned way," it also has
multitudes of large lakes holding big fish which can't be
caught using traditional fly-fishing methods. Not one to miss
good fishing opportunities because of archaic traditions
instituted 200 years ago and on another continent, I use what
works. And trolling flies for lake-drwlling trout outperforms
standard methods hands down. ~ Kevin Fancy
|
