The first rule of successful fishing tackle
retailing is – first catch your fisherman. Saw far too many illustrations
of the truth of this rule in my years in the tackle business to
argue against it.
This rule is based on a simple premise – the
better a lure or fly looks to the angler the more likely it is
to be bought. The paint jobs on some lures are so good you could
swear they could be floured, battered, fried, and served with
chips. But what is eminently edible to our eyes is not necessarily
mouth-watering to a fish.
Most store-bought flies are overdressed. Bit like
wearing a ball-gown to a barbecue. Nearly all flies bought from
a store have far too much fur and feather on them. This is to
make them more attractive to the buyer’s eye. It is actually
harder to tie a fly with less fur and feather. A quick fix to
the over dressing problem is to glue a small strip of Velcro onto
an ice-cream stick, and rub this over the fly to rough it up and
pull out some of the fur and feathers.
It is also important to remember that a fly or lure
does not rely on its visual appeal alone to convince a trout to
bite. The action of the fly or lure (how it moves in the water)
and the movement of the materials that make up the fly or lure
can also be extremely important. Roughing up a fly can give the
fur and feather more natural movement underwater.
Roughing up a fly has another plus. Many nymphs
collect air bubbles around their bodies, legs, or head to help
them on their journey to the surface. Roughing up a nymph or fly
can help to trap air in the fur and feathers to further help in
imitating the real thing. This may also explain why the addition
of gold beads to the head of some nymphs is so effective –
they look like an air bubble.
A couple of years ago I tied up five or six smelt
imitation flies. All much the same – a small clump of white
bucktail for a body, a couple of short peacock herls for an over-body,
and two strands of pearl Krystal-Flash down each side. A tuft
of red wool under the throat, some red nail-polish to seal the
head binding and they were finished. Not, as I am aware, a pattern
that has yet graced the pages of a fly-tying book, but it is probably
in one somewhere.
All these flies caught fish – but soon fish
and snags reduced my flies to just one. It continued to catch
fish, and with each fish the fly got skinnier and skinnier. Bits
of bucktail pulled out or broke off. The peacock herl reduced
to a scraggy tuft behind the head. The Krystal-Flash was reduced
to one strand down one side. Still it caught fish.
It still catches fish. Two years on and skinnier
still – it goes on catching fish. When I finally lose it,
or it is down to a bare hook I will have to try and replicate
it. If I don’t discover it in a fly tying book I think I
might call it ‘Ruffazgutz’.
Take the minimalist story a little further, and
to just about its logical conclusion, and you end up here. In
many lakes around New Zealand there is a small skinny worm that
forms a significant part of a trout’s diet. It is the Bloodworm.
Well named. At up to two centimetres long and skinny, it is the
colour of bright-red blood. The worm moves to the surface in a
frantic twisting and curling motion.
One day in Just Fishin’ (my tackle shop) a
customer of ours was buying a packet of small bright red Gamakatsu
kirbed Suicide-pattern sea hooks. Now I knew this customer was
a trout fisherman who never went fishing in the sea so I asked
him what he wanted with these hooks.
"Best bloody Bloodworm imitations I have ever
used", he replied.
"What do you dress it with?" I asked.
"Nothing", he replied, "I just use
the bare hook. Because it is kirbed it twists and turns just like
the real thing as I retrieve it."
Despite the high ‘oh yeah right’ factor
I tried the bare bloody hooks down at Lake Aniwhenua and Lake
Otomagakau and they worked. So I tried to sell the hooks to fishermen
who were going to lakes where there were Bloodworms but they would
not have a bar of it – the ‘oh yeah right’ factor
just too strong.
So Mark Kitteridge who worked with me back then,
tied a single turn of peacock herl just behind the head of the
hook, and a few turns of red thread around the body – and
they sold. As my American friends would say, "Go figure."
In fact to go figure some more, I have tried fishing
a hook with just a gold bead on it and caught fish. So has a hook
with two or three brightly coloured glass beads threaded on the
hook. A mate of mine fishes with a bare gold hook behind a weighted
nymph with success. Another mate, (one of both of them –
some say), uses a pattern that is just copper wire wrapped along
the hook shank.
It is not just flies that can do with a touch of
alteration. Metal lures can sometimes do with a bit of modification.
Some metal lures can be bent. Some plastic lures are supple enough
to bend, others can be bent by gently heating them in warm water.
Sometimes subtle changes to the way a lure moves in the water
can increase its efficacy. This can be especially true of jigging
lures. Adding to, or putting in a small bend, can increase the
‘fluttering’ action and more closely resemble the action
of a crippled fish. This is especially useful when jigging in
shallow water.
If you are using trolling lures of the winged Tasmanian
Devil type, the first thing you should do is get rid of the wire
gizmo that is threaded through the lure to hold the hook. Instead
thread your trace through the lure, thread on a bead, and then
tie on the hook. This will greatly enhance the action of the lure.
Don’t be fooled into thinking that a beautiful
paint job is the key to fish catching nirvana.
I still have a very battered jig that I had custom-painted
– half black, half gold. This jig has caught literally dozens
of fish. But it is a black and gold lure no more. It is now a
bit of black, patch of gold, some of the underlying original chrome,
and other patches of grey from the base metal showing through.
Still it catches fish.
At the same time as I had this lure made up I had
several more made at the same time. These all catch fish, but
none as regularly as the scruffy jig. Yet all the jigs came out
of the same mould, and all had the same original colour scheme.
I owned a little Rapala bibbed diving lure. This
lure started life with a superb paint job that would have made
Renoir proud – a near perfect imitation of a little rainbow
trout. Boy, did this lure catch trout. Put it in the right place
when trout were about and I would back it against all other lures.
In a short time the battering the paintwork took
from trout teeth reduced the paint job to a shadow of its former
glory. But still it caught fish. Towards the end there was so
much of the balsa-wood body showing through I tried to repaint
the little beaut back to something like its prior brilliance.
I failed utterly. But still it caught fish.
Finally something too big for my skills took the
lure away. I have purchased several of the same lures, visually
at least, exactly duplicating my favourite, but none have achieved
the success rate of that battered beauty.
The only variable I can put my finger on, for both
the paint job stories, is the varying actions of the lures. The
original lures simply sent out better ‘eat me’ signals
that had little or nothing to do with their visual appeal to our
eyes.
I guess what it boils down to is that the store-bought
gloss and floss does not always translate into making a trout
open its mouth and munch on your offering. The way flies and lures
move can be as important as colour, and in my experience, probably
more important.
Their actions are more important than their appearance.
And there is a bit of a message about life, the universe, and
the whole damn thing in that last sentence.