Opinion

The Big Eddy Drifter

By V. Paul Reynolds

Izaak Walton in his iconic angling book “The Compleat Angler” made the observation that even if you spend a lifetime casting flies upon the water, fishing and fish behavior can never be  “fully learnt.”

Persistence and patience will not deliver full mastery of angling success and a total understanding of trout psychology, but it can shorten the path.

Full disclosure: A patient angler I have never been. But a number of years ago on a famous Montana creek, a four pound Cutthroat Trout that was fanning just below the bank in the upstream current of gin clear water, got my adrenaline flowing in a way that gave me a staying power that I did not know I had.

For at least 30 minutes, I drifted dozens of different flies inches above the snout of this slobber knocker fish to no avail. A few times the fish looked over my hackled offerings, but each time brushed it off and then continued fanning back in the current.

It was high noon and the relentless Montana sun beat down from a blue, cloudless Western sky. Still, quitting that fish was not an option. As my fly choices got progressively smaller and the retied tippets smaller that were barely visible to my own tired eyes, the reluctant Cut showed signs of wearing down. I could tell. That big fish, despite its better instincts, had a feeding proclivity: it wanted that artificial fly to be the real thing.

“Presentation!,” I scolded myself. “Focus on presentation, if you want to seduce this fish.”

Presentation: Another name for drift. You gotta get the drift perfect in this fast moving water. The slightest drag or “V” ripple behind the fly and the fish says, “No way, Bub. That bug ain’t real.”

On that special day, that still occupies my angling scrapbook of memories, the Big Ole Fish slowly but inexorably arose from its bottom brooding and gently ascended and sucked in my #18 Parachute Adams. Finally, a hook up! And a deep feeling of satisfaction that every angler knows who has ever seduced an especially stubborn fish.

Flash forward. June The evening rise on the salmon pool at the Big Eddy on the West Branch of the Penobscot River. For years, I have been going there with my sons just so that the river salmon can make a fool of me, and prove how inept even a seasoned fly fisherman can be. My stern man, eldest son Scotty — the airline pilot with 20/15 vision — has the knack though. He seduces these recalcitrant uppity salmon when nobody else is doing so, including me.

What’s the secret? Well sir, a big buggy indicator fly on top with a small dropper. A Nancy’s Prayer dropped beneath a small yellow bellied Hornberg works well, thank you very much. But, and this is the take away, Amigo: the aforementioned lash up is only as good as the presentation. Watch Scotty. The white foam on the edge of the seam is the target. And lots of slack line. He can see that fly, while I rarely can. The drift. He never takes his eye off that indicator fly and monitors the drift, keeping it with the current and in the foam seam. Smack! Fish on. Over and over. It only works when the drift is right, fly size or color be damned.

Many of the most respected fly anglers and writers over the past century have argued that presentation outweighs pattern. Some of the giants of fly fishing have said it in different ways:

  1. Charles Ritz famously wrote that presentation is everything. 
  2. Lefty Kreh often told students that getting the fly to the fish correctly was far more important than having the “perfect” fly. 
  3. Gary LaFontaine, after years of underwater observation, concluded that a natural drift was one of the strongest triggers for trout. 

Why does drift matter so much?

A fish has only a fraction of a second to decide whether to eat. Before it analyzes color or fine details, it notices something much more obvious:

Is the insect moving at the same speed as everything else in the current? 

Is it floating naturally? 

Is it swinging unnaturally or skating? 

Does it suddenly accelerate because of line drag? 

Lesson learned. Getting that perfect drift on fast moving water ain’t no easy thing, but getting it right is far more important than mulling all of those assorted fly choices in your fly box.

The author is editor of the Northwoods Sporting Journal. He is also a Maine Guide and host of a weekly radio program “Maine Outdoors” heard Sundays at 7 p.m. on The Voice of Maine News-Talk Network. He has authored three books. Online purchase information is available at www.sportingjournal.com, Outdoor Books.

Get the Rest of the Story

Thank you for reading your4 free articles this month. To continue reading, and support local, rural journalism, please subscribe.