Filling up fly boxes

I’ve said before that, for some unfathomable reason, I seem to have fallen out of love with fly tying.

I can’t put my finger on why, but the urge to restock my fly boxes with my own creations hasn’t entered my consciousness.

When I used to guide, I’d often get off the river, say goodbye to my guest, drive home, and tie a few of the day’s ‘must-have’ patterns.

This may be part of it, and it is also reflected in the flies I tied back then. They needed to be quick to tie, and I had to be realistic about their life expectancy too. At times, it might only have been a matter of moments.

Since I stopped guiding five years ago, the need to tie has eased off.

The other reason is that when I look at the flies that have come from my vice compared to those of my friends, I feel a little embarrassed.

Their boxes, when opened, have rows of perfect flies neatly lined up, compared to mine, which seem to evolve each time I put a hook in the vice.

I’m lucky, though. They’re incredibly generous and offer me a few now and again.

More recently, I was inspired to sit down and tie a few after reading Pheasant Tail Simplicity from Patagonia.

I was interested to see a bonefish pattern that I rattled off four of, and they were almost uniform in appearance. I went on to catch a good number of bonefish with it, despite the guides telling me it was a trout fly.

I tried to tie some more patterns from the book and sat down, but struggled to muster any real enthusiasm. After a phone call from a friend, Iestyn, who told me he’d bought the book and asked if I wanted any flies, I could only say, “Yes, please.”

So, the plan for this season is to try fishing pheasant-tailed flies and see how I get on.

I reviewed the book in the magazine and felt it was a gentle push back against all the materials we use—and perhaps I’ll have some conclusive proof very soon that we don’t need many.

I’ll report back.