Got a knotty fly-fishing problem? Drop our agony uncle a line.
DARON PARTON
Dear Doc Tangle, I was watching a guy fishing for trout on the Madison last week, and on the end of his tippet he had what I can only describe as a blob of wool tied to a hook. It didn’t look remotely like any bug I’d ever seen, or any other living thing, for that matter. Yet, sure enough, I watched a decent trout come right up off the bottom and eat the darned thing. I don't know who was more surprised — me or the guy holding the rod. So, tell me this: are trout as smart as folks keep saying they are? And if they are, why do I spend hours — days, if I'm honest — tying flies that look like museum-quality copies of every mayfly that ever hatched, when it seems I could get away with a fuzzy blob on a hook? Frank Nelson, Montana
AH ME! Oh, you! If I could explain, in a few insightful and exquisitely wrought sentences, why it is that a trout will — from time to time — pass up the opportunity of a perfectly satisfactory snack and instead avail itself of a wholly unlikely substitute, I could set the whole angling world ablaze. Quite apart from the inevitable cataract of money that would doubtless flow in my direction so as to leave Croesus himself calling in the auditors, I would undoubtedly find myself elevated to rockstar levels of celebrity and red carpet recognition. Or would I?
Others have achieved less yet found themselves elevated to such unthinkable heights that wealth and fame do not sit lightly upon their shoulders and have brought about as many — often more — problems than they solve. Could I live with the knowledge that I had casually destroyed whole industries built on the back of one of Nature's most enduring mysteries? Could I dismiss from my mind's eye the communities in Kenya and Sri Lanka and beyond, where the nimble fingers of women and girls create many of the patterns that lie in serried ranks in our fly-boxes, when their benches gradually empty and their vices stand untended as demand for their wares withers in the face of the new and chilling certainty?
Have you never gone to a favourite restaurant and, instead of ordering the same old, same old, opted for something a bit left-field?
Indeed, would anglers — finally released from the ignorance that has defied evolution since Man first walked upright to the riverbank — be able still to muster the urge to stride into new and uncharted waters with the knowledge that success was only a matter of tying on the necessary solution? If history has taught us anything, it is that we should not go about opening boxes against the advice of the gods, and that poking bears with sticks seldom ends well. However, since you have posed the question: have you never gone to a favourite restaurant and, instead of ordering the same old, same old, opted for something a bit left-field? Dropped the burger and fries in favour of the seared scallops with saffron velouté? Or perhaps swerved the lobster bisque and grabbed a pepperoni pizza instead? Of course you have. Trout aren't that smart, but they are complicated and capricious. Much like anglers.
Dear Doc Tangle, Forgive my ignorance, but what exactly is a cutthroat? Is it just another sort of rainbow trout, or a subspecies of one? And while I know only too well what a "Dolly Parton" is in Australian rhyming slang, what on earth is a Dolly Varden? Is it another trout, a char, or something dreamed up by a bloke who'd had one too many around the campfire? Clive Lawson, New South Wales
THE CUTTHROAT trout is a distinct subgroup of the trout family which predominantly inhabits the US West Coast rivers and the lakes and streams of the Rocky Mountains and the Great American Basin. They are identifiable by the distinct red/orange “slash” that runs around the lower jaw from the bottom of the gill case. Local populations have varying degrees of colouration and density of spots, but the chin strap feature is common to all. Hence their name. Like many trout — and indeed most fish — Cutthroats will grow over time depending on the extent of their habitat and the availability of food. They range therefore from palm-sized brook specimens to double-digit (in pounds) specimens. Some anglers will confidently assert that they are a more vigorous and athletic quarry than other examples of trout, but I suspect that the cutthroat soubriquet lends these fish a more dashing character than, say, their “brown” cousins, despite the fact that the latter are among the most sporting fish on the planet. Cutthroats, perhaps because of their reputation, enjoyed a period of popularity some years ago that saw them being introduced into stocked lakes. While they certainly offered an interesting alternative to the more usual rainbows, as I recall they tended towards preying on anything smaller than themselves and the experiment was discontinued.
I suspect that the cutthroat soubriquet lends these fish a more dashing character than, say, their ‘brown’ cousins
The Dolly Varden char ranges across both sides of the north Pacific and is named — on the US side — after a character from Charles Dickens' Barnaby Rudge (1841) who was a flirtatious teenager who affected gowns of elaborate green and red fabric, which colour scheme the fish adopts in its freshwater appearance.
Char migrate from the salty ocean to fresh water to spawn and are both sporting and tasty. I caught several in Alaska — more years ago now than I care to remember — when they were deemed almost a pest for interrupting the pursuit of bigger migrating salmon. However, when fished for directly with light fly-tackle, they represent an altogether different sporting proposition. We used to occasionally meet large brown bears on the riverbank though, and the locals were of the view that while a 40lb king salmon was worth the risk these posed, a 3lb Dolly Varden really didn't cut the mustard.
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