Recently I have realized that I cannot relate to the fly-fisherman of 2020. Maybe I simply refuse to accept the direction the once deemed “quiet sport” is headed or already has found itself. Aside from the gruff, uppity stiff and abrasive past where only those worthy enough to engage had the bank roll to afford the finest tweed, Tonkin cane rods and silk lines while only fishing swung flies for salmon and dry flies fished up stream to rising trout, one I could not relate to, and never agreed with, flyfishing was never just the “cool” thing to do. Today, I am beginning to wonder if that was a good thing.
I’ve never thought of myself as a crowd follower; always seemed to enjoy specific things but in my own sort of way and on my own terms. Maybe my childhood without any siblings is to blame, but I’d like to think my personality had more to do with that than anything. Impulsive was never an adjective that described my character, unless it involved something I was highly interested in or found extreme pleasure in doing. I gravitated to flyfishing in general not solely for the pleasure of catching fish, but primarily because it got me away from the bullshit surrounded around people and the rules put in place by society involving human interaction. A reprieve from community and the constant chess match of wit and wonder which has become increasingly more exhausting in this world we live in of unrealistic expectation, instant gratification, incessant fighting over who’s right and smoke and mirrors. Disconnecting with people for a small or large dose of nature has been something that I now realize, has grounded me entirely, recharged a drained set of societal batteries and made me think much more clearly.
For those of you out there who can relate, I think we all would agree that it has become harder and harder to escape the masses and find that solitude we all crave. The “new” demographic of angler seems to desperately be trying to change the landscape of our sport. Flyfishing is no longer considered the quiet sport, it has become a “community”, a constantly and ever increasing in your face race to outdo one another in a quest to explore and spread the stoke of that “epic” adventure with some sprinkled in and cleverly placed “branding” of the coolest new stuff. It is sad to say, but we are one giant infomercial and that infomercial has infiltrated every aspect of our lives. The lines appear to be blurred, and now it seems nothing is out of the realm of possibility regardless of whether it is considered a detrimental decision. People in general cannot get enough information, constantly craving the next tidbit to the point of being downright unnerving and rude. Maybe the answer is to fully disconnect from technology and become a hermit? Post a picture of a fish, within minutes someone is asking a detailed description of precisely where you caught it. Post a fly pattern, and in minutes someone wants a tutorial, step by step or video. The sense of adventure and exploration seems to be gone along with that token phrase the quiet sport; all to be wiped from history as if they never existed.
At times I realize that my fondest memories aren’t of what I was doing and with who, but more or less in line with where I was and what I witnessed. Selfish on face value, but candidly true in nature. Although I do fish with a select few people, which I’d like to think most would say they do the same. We don’t get after it to provide that next “piece of content”, we get after it because we enjoy every aspect of what we are doing for similar reasons and respect the resource the same without any ulterior motives. I am saddened to say that the face of the Flyfishing “Community” has lost its transparency and appears to have taken a turn down a long winding road of disingenuous rhetoric. We preach conservation in one breadth and push harder into the little that is untapped with camera crews, drones, and all the “cool new gear” to scratch that insatiable itch without true regard for the impact we potentially are putting on the wonders we have witnessed that this planet has to offer. The argument to that is always that if a place isn’t highlighted, it can’t be protected. Should those precious things be shared to everyone, or do we leave them be only to be found by those who are willing to explore them without turning them into the next business venture and marketing them to the masses? Admittedly I struggle with this daily, and do not know the answer; a conundrum of the highest level.
That’s why I say your “community” is bullshit, and is the farthest thing from what was the draw to this wonderful sport. This “community” is overexposing the things we love at a cost that is unmeasurable, and that no likes on Instagram can justify. We as people are better than that, and I know that I am not alone with what I’ve said. Leave some things for exploration, cut the informational pipeline back a little and let people figure some things out on their own; we have all created this mentality that many have now grown up with, and we can change it too. There is absolutely nothing wrong with sharing information for the growth of the sport. Save the term “community” for when we are all off the water, with friends discussing the activities and experiences of the day over our favored beverages, or those gatherings where the conservation of a resource we hold so dear is in peril and like minded people can come together to ensure it is protected for our children’s children. That is the only “community” that should be associated with Flyfishing, and I for one am taking a stand to not be a part of the “community” that is increasingly giving the sport that I love to my core, an unnecessary black eye.
Write comment (0 Comments)So to appease the smaller streamer crowd, I figured it would be a good time to show the tying sequence for the smallest version out of the Masked Avenger series. In todays video I demonstrate the flies construction which is rather simple, discuss the 3 favorite sizes I tie and fish, the minor tweeks to each size variation in materials as well as the sizing for each.
This particular fly is one that I fish under the current water conditions on my local river; lower and clear. If you enjoy fishing streamers and miss the bite in higher water, this little guy can fill that void when the water is lower. You can also fish this tandem or as a dropper fly with a larger streamer and as you'll quickly find out even though she's smaller, she still attracts the larger fish too. So sit back, give the video a look and then go tie yourself up a few. Oh, and this video is rant heavy this week, sorry not sorry.
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Some of you have heard me talk about my respect for local fly tyer and once shop owner, David Goulet. Dave was the owner of Classic and Custom Fly Shop which sat in close proximity to the Farmington River in New Hartford just upstream of Satans Kingdom for several decades. The doors closed in 2009 and it was a sad state of affairs for many of us who frequented his establishment; not just because we wouldn't be able to chat with Dave and buy those needed materials, but mainly because the amount of knowledge he had was no longer a short drive from home.
I spent many a days time in that shop after fishing the river, and I learned a great deal about fly design and the subtleties of what creates a sound fly pattern. Dave's sarcastic and witty humor always helped too as he was always quick to a punch line and was the king at breaking balls. Rumor has it that over the course of his 40+ years of tying commercially he had tied some where in the realm of 1.2 million flies, an astonishing number to say the least, but what was much more impressive was his level of consistency and attention to detail. I can still see him at his Danvise perched on his stool behind the counter of his shop with a coffee cup at his side, a pile of size 30 hooks as he was turning out parachutes that were quickly amassing on the corner of his desk all while his Blues music was playing on the radio.
One of the most memorable interactions I had with Dave was when we had a great discussion about Atlantic Salmon fishing, which by far was his favorite thing to do. Dave at the time, and still may to this day own property on the Mirimachi River and would go there every year to chase his favorite quarry. The stories he would tell about the fishing, and of course other things like when his canoe was stolen (if you knew Dave he was one of those guys who always seemed to have an affinity for unfortunate things happening to him, yet he would always make light of it in a humorous way). Well on this particular day, the shop was empty and in the middle of our conversation I asked him what was the biggest Atlantic he ever tangled with at his camp. Dave then disappeared upstairs for a couple of minutes and then came back down with a rather large roll of paper that looked like some sort of ancient map rolled up for an adventure. When he unravelled this scroll on the shop counter my jaw dropped. Dave explained that this was the biggest fish taken at his camp and he had traced the outline of the fish to store it into his memory bank. The tracing was unbelievable to say the least, if memory serves me the length of the behemoth was in excess of 50 inches considerably with a tail and a kype that only dreams are made of. Dave wasn't a braggart by any means, and the fact that he shared that little memory with me is something that I am grateful for to this day.
Dave was a man of few words to most, but his actions outside of the spotlight were beyond noteworthy. The Farmington River Anglers Association is credited with the many years of hardwork in cooperation with the Connecticut DEEP in establishing what is arguably one of the best trout fisheries in the northeast. A great deal of that success is largely attributed to countless amount of behind the scenes work that Dave poured into that endevour. Dave's insight and direction are what steered all involved parties into establishing many of the regulations that helped produce the fishery we have today, and the fish that inhabit its every pool, run and riffle. His level of professionalism, and sheer humbleness in all of this are what truly set him apart from the pack. He never once cared about any accolades, he always put the river first and foremost and the sport we all grew fond of.
So to honor everything that Dave has done for the sport and the river that I call home, I felt it fitting to keep his work live by doing a series of videos on some of his patterns. I will do my best to stay true to the pattern recipes that he laid out, but I am sure that there will be some substitutions in materials here and there. Today, I will kick things off with a streamer of Dave's, which for me is only fitting. This particular fly is much more than a streamer, as it is a very versatile pattern that can be fished as a wet fly, and I can almost bet that is how Dave would have fished it.
The Moby Dick streamer is one of Dave's more well known patterns from his earliest of years as a shop owner. If you were to talkt to anyone when I was a kid who fished the Westfield River System, this was a fly that would come up in conversation as a staple in your fly box. So sit back, grab a beverage of choice and join me as I tie this wonderful fly.
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