Got a knotty fly-fishing problem? Drop our agony uncle a line.
DARON PARTON
Dear Doc Tangle,
I was always told that, when you travel by aeroplane, you should compensate for lost luggage by spreading essentials, such as underwear, between your hold and cabin bags.
That way, if you lose one or the other, you can keep your dignity. That’s all very well for the non-angler, but for us fishers, essentials include rods, reels, lines and flies.
These are accepted only in the hold and are therefore subject to greater risk. I’d rather fish naked than arrive at my destination without my personal fishing kit and endure wasted days not fishing — often at significant cost.
I’d like to know your thoughts on this matter and whether it is possible to claim on insurance for such eventualities. Indeed, how do you put a price on a box of flies that goes missing? Simon McLeary, Dublin
SOD’S LAW, which is both universal and inevitable, states that the more important the journey, the higher the likelihood of it being screwed up by events. Therefore, the seasoned traveller will know that while pursuing the week-in, week-out grind of flying around the globe to eke out a living, your journeyings will slide along like the proverbial greased weasel. But the moment you switch to the fishing destination trip of a lifetime, every aspect of the undertaking will go to hell in a handcart.
Can there be anything more frustrating than arriving at a bucket-list destination — full of hope and feverish expectation — only to find that your tackle has been delivered to somewhere else entirely?
Actually, there is: seeing the remains of your best-loved and carefully curated rod and reel selections emerging onto a carousel looking as if they have spent the bulk of their recent flight dangling outside the fuselage before being fed through an industrial shredder.
Whoever told you to divide your mission-critical items between cabin luggage and hold luggage was quite right, and what works for jocks and socks also serves for tackle. I don't know the rigour with which your chosen airlines enforce their rules, but could it not be possible to slip a Smuggler rod into your briefcase or backpack? The Hardy Smuggler 9ft six-piece is probably the benchmark here, but there are a range of other makers and designs — and a wide gamut of prices — any of which might provide an emergency solution when you touch down rod-free by your chosen river.
I am also advised that the attachment of Apple AirTags to your essentials is advantageous. I dare say that they will help if your gear is mislaid in the airport. If you're in Patagonia, however, and your tackle's landed in Anchorage, it's more of another layer of the same problem. Still, technology is our friend, isn't it? And at least you get it back eventually.
Another approach to mitigate the risk of loss is to share your essentials across the party. It is rarely the case that the entirety of your group's equipment is lost, misdirected or destroyed. By including key elements across a selection of rod cases, reel carriers, wader bags, suitcases, duffel bags and trunks there is a sporting chance that enough of everyone's gear will get through unscathed to get everyone on the water. Divide, therefore, and conquer!
A spontaneous bout of retail therapy — the bill for which can be submitted to the irresponsible parties later — can't be the worst way to start a trip
It also occurs to me that where there are big fish, there is usually a tackle shop nearby and, for that matter, that most outfitters have a reasonable stock of gear to equip the visiting angler in case of emergencies. Enquiries made ahead of your intended visit will establish the extent of local backstops that might be available, which will set your mind at rest during your journey and leave you elegantly calm in the face of any disaster. Nanny used to say, “Time spent in reconnaissance is seldom wasted!”; and Nanny was never wrong.
Come to that, a spontaneous bout of retail therapy — the bill for which can be submitted to the irresponsible parties later — can't be the worst way to start a trip.
If you feel that fretting about your belongings will seriously undermine the pleasure to be derived from embarking on your expedition, you might consider couriering the central portions of your equipage ahead of your own journey. There are many reputable firms that might provide this service, and you will be in a position to study their offerings in relation to guarantees as to timeliness and insurance at your leisure before committing your necessaries to their care. One can only imagine the impact such a decision might have had on Tom Hanks' character in the 2000 movie Cast Away if the surf on his desert island had delivered him a selection of high-end angling equipment.
There is a final option, of course, which also serves to answer your question of the true value which might be applied to a box of favourite flies — perhaps tied by a famous specialist or, indeed, by your own fair hand — and that is to fly first-class, as the rules about cabin baggage tend to be more elastic in the sharp end.
Or better still, order up the Gulfstream VI and PJ it there and back. Then you can pack what you like, where you like and give the whole worrying issue a complete swerve.
People who tell you they're rich like to say that turning right onto an aeroplane is for common folk; really rich people know that turning left takes you to where the staff sit.
It's only money, after all, and this is fishing we are talking about. It's important.
Dear Doc Tangle,
When is a dry-fly not a dry-fly, but an emerger?
Davie Johnson, Wyoming
I CAN think of no better example of a dry-fly than the mayfly. This perfect creature has almost 3,000 variations and probably predates the dinosaurs by more years than the dinosaurs had before humans. And we're still not sure exactly how it works.
It begins as an egg that lies in the bottom of a stream having been deposited at the surface by the female following frantic fornication mid-air with a male, following which both parties expire. Their lovemaking being the bit we most often see.
In due course, the egg hatches into a nymph which spends an indeterminate time footling about in the bottom of its stream until such time as it feels the urge to mature. Accordingly, it surfaces and emerges to attach itself to some convenient herbage or perhaps a rock where it transforms into a sub-imago, which looks like a mayfly but isn't because the mayfly bursts fully and finally from the case of the sub-imago as the finished product, or imago. This then flies off to fornicate frantically before subsiding onto the water surface as a spent force, spinning into decay or consumed by a passing predator — famously trout during May, which explains everything.
In terms of artificial representations therefore, it might reasonably be said that nymphs are fished below the surface. They are wet-flies which represent the early stages of development.
Nymph: under the water; emerger: in the water; dry-fly: on the water; spinner: dead in the water
Emergers are fished in the surface. They sit in the surface tension, generally barb down and with legs dangling attractively below. I hesitate to generalise absolutely because everyone can point to an exception, but emergers are often characterised by folded hair wing cases and furry hackles. Their design tends to favour fur as a lead material. The Klinkhammer series is a good example.
True dry-flies sit on the surface. An imago representation has fully formed wings, often an upturned barb and traditional patterns make more use of feather than fur, although legs formed of bristle can be used to support the fly on the water. Wulffs, Duns and Olives are among the traditional patterns.
Finally, the spent or spinner versions revert to being once more in the surface tension, being what might also be called a “submerger”, as the post-coital cousin of the emerger.
So, nymph: under the water; emerger: in the water; dry-fly: on the water; spinner: dead in the water.
I hope that clears things up? Or at least helps!
Doc Tangle would like to answer your questions. Title them Dear Doc Tangle and send to: thetake@looptackle.se
