Popper Fishing

poppers first, then sinking bugs

Many truly huge fish attack topwater flies with abandon, but none do it more aggressively than a hungry, angry Bluegill no wider than a large man’s hand.

Many widely experienced big fish fly anglers list bluegills among their favorites.  Watching a fish strike a topwater fly is a magical instant of fun, particularly if the fly is attached to a lightweight fly rod and the fly is the size of a bumblebee, like a size 8 popping bug.  

Books are written about flies for bluegills, and techniques for catching them “on top” are a regular topic of discussion and argument among anglers.  Flies that sink take millions of ‘gills, but they aren’t as much fun to fish with, so fly anglers usually cast them only if the fish aren’t hitting poppers.  It’s all in the strike, making the little buggers eat your fly.  

What’s offered here are opinions of a lifetime Florida Cracker bluegill angler who ties his own poppers.  Poppers can be purchased for a few bucks each at tackle shops in freshwater locations.  I’m talking here about aspects of creating your own flies, which can be far more productive and fun than those you might buy.  Reading this may help you make better selections at tackle shops if you choose to buy rather than tie.  Color doesn’t seem to be a key to success, but a darker fly on overcast days often produces when a white one won’t.  If you tie your own, paint them to suit yourself.  I tend towards froggy colors of green, white and brown,  and all-chartreuse.

Cork bodied size 8 flies are my favorites.  Cork can be sanded and shaped easily, and has a more natural look and “feel” than foam or plastic.  Far more satisfying to make, cork flies add to the total fishing experience, and that’s what I think it’s all about.  Why not enjoy the vicarious aspects of fly tying, imagining big bluegills hitting flies you create?

There are many alternatives to cork bodies.  I have friends who use small pieces of sheet foam attached to a size 10 or 12 hook with a spot of marabou feathers out the back and a strand of rubber legging material.  A lifetime supply fits in your hand and costs a few bucks.  Very easy to tie, they work, but catch a lot of really tiny fish. They’re most effective when casting close to shady Florida river shorelines where a tough little cousin of the bluegill lives, called a Stumpknocker.  “Stumpies” love the quiet little foam bugs, as do many  tiny bluegills.  While you’re catching these guys, the bigger bluegills remain less interested, aloof.  A bluegill likes something to crunch!  Tiny foam flies create the illusion of success but they don’t catch as many big bluegills, and rarely attract a largemouth bass, which is a regular by product of bulkier size 8 flies.

Another pal of mine who does not tie flies manufactures his own bluegill bugs by poking out cylinders of foam from discarded flip-flops and attaching rubber legs and strands of flashy tail materials.  He works on his kitchen table, holding the hook with a pair of vice-grips.  He uses a piece of copper piping or a piece of hollow stainless steel golf club shaft, sharpens the edges, then whacks it with a hammer to cut out the cylinders.  He can make hundreds of these bodies in an hour.  He pokes a hole in the body with an ice pick to insert a hook to which he’s attached the tail, then glues it in place.  Another poke with a large needle and he pulls a couple of strands of leg material through the body.  Fast and cheap.  Sometimes he colors them with permanent marking pens.  Nearly indestructible, these flies are very effective in size 8 and have won three bluegill tournaments for him.  When he’s bass fishing he simply pokes bigger plugs out of a flip-flop and attaches a size 6 hook, which also catches a few big bluegills along the way.

Fly tiers who enjoy making  flies almost as much as fishing with them usually end up “spinning hair bugs,” which means using a fly tying vise and considerable technique to create a popper from deer hair, almost magically creating a workable and artistic fly from a handful of deer hair.  “Spinning hair” is not easy and it takes time, probably twenty times longer than making a fly from a sheet of foam or a flip-flop.  It’s an art form that can produce very effective, beautiful poppers.  Check out a demonstration on YouTube to see how it works.

Bluegill flies must have lots of wiggle-- legs sticking out sideways-- and shimmering, quivering tail materials.  Rubber legs have been popular for years, but the new plastic skirt materials used on bass spinnerbait skirts is stronger, lighter and doesn’t get brittle with age.

Poppers shown in catalogues often feature an element called “hackle,” which is another word for “feather”, which is tied on just behind the body of the popper to create lift, to help the fly to remain flat in the water, and to add a buggy look.  Hackle moves when the bug is moved, and adds a lifelike element between the tail materials and the body of the fly.

I think hackle is counter productive unless the legging material tied off the rear of the hook is heavy enough to bring down the rear of the fly.  I don’t want a fly that lies flat on the water.  I want the rear to hang down, to make the hook more accessible and to make the wiggling tail material extend down into the water.  Often even large bluegills will rise to examine the fly, attracted by the wiggling legs.  Sometimes they actually pull on the legs, testing to see what this strange thing is, just before inhaling the whole fly.  I want it to look inviting, to welcome test bites. 

Frogs don’t lie flat on the water, and live bugs and small critters have most of their mass under the waterline while they scramble to shake off the water and get going again.  Lots of legs and twitches.

Better than a hackle collar just behind the fly body is estaz, a fly tying material that shines and quivers but also adds a little more weight to the back of the fly.  It’s also easier to attach and is more durable than feathers.

Experienced popper fisherman regularly see fish swimming to attack the fly making a bow wake like a boat, a small wave that will lift the fly the instant before the fish hits.  If the rear of the fly is hanging down there is far less chance of the wake pushing the fly away from the fish, and occasionally a fish that decides not to attack will catch itself by accident on the dangling hook.  Fishermen who toss large “dries” for trout know this phenomenon.

Yesterday morning a friend reported that he’d had five bluegills strike, but didn’t land any of them.  Having seen his flies, size 6 plastic bodies that float high, with hooks that were too small and short--not offering enough hook exposed--it was easy to imagine the problem.  The approach of the fish created just enough movement to push the fly away at the last instant, causing the fish to miss the hook.  The small hook allowed the fly to ride flat on the surface.  Better would be a hook a little longer that changes the angle of the fly in the water.

There are a number of fine bluegill flies that rest on the water, appearing like ants and other tiny critters.  Because they’re so small and the object is to have them rest on the surface film of the water, a small hook suffices.  The fly is swallowed before the angler can react with a strike, and the tiny hook lodges itself easily in the fish’s mouth.

Poppers need larger hooks than you might be thinking.  Take a look at established, long-selling poppers sold in tackle shops, and you’ll see that they all have rather large hooks.  A larger hook adds weight and pulls the rear of the fly down, and it will catch more fish. (Wapsi, a supplier of fly tying equipment, sells foam popper bodies with separate hooks that are appropriately sized.  Just cement the hooks and you’re ready to attach other materials.)

I know what you’re thinking:  that when the fly lands on the water and you let it sit, the rear will hang down.  Isn’t it supposed to lie flat while you wait a long minute for the rings made on the water to subside, before you twitch it?

There is a long-popular notion that admiring the fly as it sits on the water is a good thing.  I can hear a fly tying guru in my fly fishing club instructing a new angler, “Cast it out and just let it sit there.  Do not move it.  Wait.  When you can’t stand it any more, give it a small twitch.”  I suspect that he’s more of a fly tier than a fly fisherman who uses poppers often.

That advice is bad.  Bluegills face a lot of competition for food.  The big ones got that way by eating often.  They are the most aggressive.  A bug landing on the water is a natural thing.  They don’t want it to get away or get eaten by one of their pals.  An astute angler will let the fish see it and get excited about it, then he’ll threaten to take it away by moving it. Then they’ll bust it! (It’s not unlike the car salesman who comes back to tell you that they only have one left in the color you like, and someone else is about to buy it.  He’s using what’s called “the takeaway” technique.)  Keep the fly moving, something like this:  When the fly lands on the water get your line under control while  counting one thousand one, one thousand two, then snap it good so it pops, making that bloooping noise peculiar to poppers, move it a few inches and twitch it again, then let it sit for a second or two, then pop it again.  No hit?  Pick up the fly and put it in the next good looking spot.  Don’t fish it all the way back to the boat.  You thought the fish was more likely to be where you cast it in the first place, not next to the boat in the middle of the canal/pond/lake/river.

It’s very important to move the fly only by jerking your fly line--fast-stripping the line through the guides.  Always keep the line pointing directly at the fly.  When a fish strikes do not raise the rod and pull back to set the hook.  Instead, make a long strip, tightening the line to set the hook, then raise the rod to control the fish.

Rather than the fly sitting in one spot, you’re moving it, making things happen, and you’ll cover far more water and catch those fish that hit the fly the instant it lands, the really compulsive ones that seem to see the fly coming through the air, which is always a good sign to a popper fisherman.  Bluegill greed is good.

And while you’re moving the fly for another cast try to avoid casting into those wonderful small pockets of clear water under trees or back in the lily pads, unless you are a truly expert caster.  Sure, it’s fun, but the odds are against you.  Get tangled in the tree and your fly is not where a fish can eat it.  You lose time getting the fly back by using the trolling motor to go and retrieve it.  While it’s important to be near “cover,” you don’t really know if a fish is there waiting for your fly, and your fishing partner is sure to be annoyed if he’s constantly having to position the boat to retrieve your poorly cast flies.  Make sensible casts to reasonable spots and you’ll end up catching more fish.  You’ll still catch your share of snags.

Don’t forget that flies tied with weed guards catch fewer fish.  The average caster uses a fly with a weed guard too aggressively, throwing it into dense brush, where it will occasionally get stuck despite the guard.  Catching the fly in the Vee of a big lily pad means motoring or paddling to get it loose.  More time lost, or maybe a fly broken off intentionally if it’s too hard to get to.  If you really want to fish heavy structure--pads and dense grass--use a casting rod.  Even if you hook a decent fish with a fly rod in that scenario, you’ll have problems getting it out of the grass, using time better spent on another few casts.

Watch professional bass fishermen.  They keep the lure moving, making hundreds of casts per day.  Those who fish heavy cover do so using 50 lb. braided line, so they can pull loose from any hooked brush or rocks.  They fish the odds, making sure the lure is where a fish might find it.  They keep it wet, not stuck in the bushes.

The perfect fly rod for bluegills varies depending on where you’ll be fishing.  I favor 3 or 4 weight rods.  Fishing from a boat a seven footer is fine.  When I’m wading I like a nine foot rod to help get the fly above tall grass on my back cast.  Most bluegill fishing calls for short casts, though if your companion is hogging the bow position with the trolling motor, casting to the best areas before you can cast to them, you may be required to make longer casts. (I recently purchased an outfit from Cabela’s called a Wind River Combo, a four weight graphite rod with a reel loaded with line and backing, for the amazing price of $69.95.  If you become a bluegill addict, which is easy to do, you’ll want at least three outfits for a range of fly sizes and wind conditions.  No need for fancy   rods with fast tips.)

Buy your poppers if you must.  Don’t let ‘em sit still.  Strip strike, don’t raise the rod.  Make sure the hook’s big enough and there’s plenty of wiggly stuff hanging down.  Fry ‘em if you like.  You’re allowed to keep a bucket full.  I returned a few hundred to the water last year, and on the May full moon I’ll be wanting to hold them in my hands again and look into their beautiful shiny eyes.