Memory Flies

Stay with the Ones You Love

We all have memory flies and patterns we enjoy tying and fishing. I came across the flies of Tim Borski when I lived in Key West.  To me all his flies look fishy.  I tied two of his BonefishSliders one summer night, feeling that they’d catch a wary bonefish.  The next morning, wading alone in the Mud Keys, a large single fish suddenly appeared, heading my way, out about 60 feet in ten inches of crystal-clear water.  I crouched, made my first cast with the Slider.  The fly landed two feet ahead of the fish, which raced to crush it.  Fish on, a drag-testing run or two, then to-hand, maybe six pounds of a silvery ghost fish.  How can you beat that?  

Dick Brown is famous for his crab fly, the Merkin.  It’s an interesting, easy tie.  I’ve thrown it in reasonable proximity to maybe five permit in good water conditions.  No interest.  At least a dozen bonefish have turned their snouts up at it, in various sizes.  I watched one day in the Marquesas as my son cast the fly repeatedly to a slow-feeding school of permit.  They never spooked.  Finally, he gave up, exasperated.  I had faith in the fly.  Could be that Brown caught all his fish in the Yucatan, where it’s far easier than in the Keys.  I begged that fly to work. 

Fishing from the beach one calm summer morning in Vero Beach, I hooked a 100 lb. plus tarpon on a Polar Fiber Minnow with large eyes, which is my favorite snook fly.  Line and backing melted off the reel with the fish jumping for fun a few times.  With the Arbor Knot in sight I tightened down and broke the line, to the awe of a small crowd of early morning walkers.  My dachshund and I sat in shallow water for a while and thought about that one.  What, three hundred yards in a couple of minutes?  My, my, wasn’t that fine!?

On a bonefish trip to Sandy Point in the Abacos many years ago I tied a tail on a fly--one of those curly-tail plastic gizmos-- onto the back of a size six hook wrapped in chenille up to barbell eyes.  Everyone in the group ended up fishing it.  We’d never seen entire schools of bones turn and run to attack a fly.  Sometimes they nibbled the tail off, but the idea was to see'em turn for it, strip it fast and make ‘em chase it, then let it sit.  An amazing, exciting fly.  

Part of the fun of tying is remembering a fly’s successes and its personality in the water and the various aspects of “the tie” as you sit down to create one, as you search through your tying materials.  All you need is one good cast and a memorable “take” from a good fish to cement it in your mind.  Why keep flies that didn’t work?  Anyone want some Merkins? Keep only good memories in your box.