Making Sense of Fly Patterns

It seems to me that there are two things that, more than anything else, conspire to produce most of the apparent complexity of fly fishing—the study of aquatic insects, and the myriad of fly patterns that imitate them.  Some people manage to pretty much dodge the whole entomology thing by fishing attractor and generalist patterns rather than making any attempt to hatch-match.  But if you’re going to fly fish, you can’t evade dealing with flies.  Unless, of course, you are so Zen in your approach that you can happily fish nothing but a size 16 Adams (or substitute the fly pattern of your choice).  Few people have the temperament for it.  All it takes to scuttle that approach is to be fishing on a day when your favorite isn’t working and someone else’s is.

First of all, let’s define what a fly “pattern” is.  It’s basically a recipe for an artificial fly—a certain set of materials (fur, feather, hair, and/or artificial fluff or flash, etc.) tied to the hook in a certain fashion to produce something that will induce a fish to attempt to eat it.

Each pattern has a name that may come from the pattern’s inventor (Royal Wulff), the materials from which the fly is made (Gold-Ribbed Hare’s Ear), or some more fanciful source (Warden’s Worry).

Fly patterns fall into three broad categories.  First are the imitators, flies that are designed to specifically imitate a certain species of insect or other food item at a particular stage of its development.  These are the flies most often used for serious hatch-matching.

Second are what I call suggestors.  These flies do not imitate anything specific, but by virtue of their size, shape, and/or and color may suggest a number of different food items.

Finally there are attractors, flies that tend to be brightly colored and look very little like any fish food that lives in or is likely to fall into the water.  These are really fly rod “lures,” and function much like a spin fisherman’s lure does.  Fish are thought to strike at these things out of curiosity, aggression, or just raw predatory instinct.  The fishy thinking might go something like, “It’s moving, it’s small enough to fit into my mouth, maybe it’s food.  Let’s eat!”

Well, that’s the easy part.  Those three big divisions.  Fly selection can be kept pretty simple if you stick to suggestors and attractors.  But as soon as you start talking about imitation, i. e. “hatch-matching,” things get seriously complex.

No one wants to hear this, but there really is no completely logical, methodical way to approach the study of trout foods and all the flies that imitate them.  The study of the natural foods is overwhelmingly complex all by itself.  Even the scientists who study aquatic ecosystems invariably have a narrow specialty and don’t command the whole subject.  The issue of fly patterns is even more bewildering. There are thousands and thousands of fly patterns out there, and more are invented literally every day.  When you take into account all of the variations in color, materials, etc. the number of possible patterns is virtually infinite.  Hatches and the flies that imitate them pretty much have to be learned on a case-by-case basis.  This is definitely one those areas of study where the more you know, the more you realize you don’t know. 

So how does the beginner proceed?  One of the most common ways is to get hold of someone’s list of must-have flies.  There are plenty of those out there, and although they can differ considerably you will find a few patterns that turn up on most lists.  Those flies that show up over and over are probably not a bad place to start.

But I think it’s a far better idea to do this whole fly acquisition thing gradually.  Go to a fly shop near where you’re fishing and buy two or three each of three or four patterns the staff recommends as effective at the present time for the water you’re planning to fish.  Do this each time you go fishing and you’ll soon amass a good, useful collection of flies.  You’ll also very quickly develop your own preferences—certain flies will look good to you and others will not.  Go with those instincts as soon as you feel them.  Confidence is very important.

For most beginners, however, as flies are acquired confusion soon begins to set in about what is in the inventory, what the names of the patterns are, what they are meant to do and how they should be fished.  If you are the type of person who will be frustrated by not knowing the names of the flies, the best remedy is to have a reference collection.  Every time you buy flies, get one extra of each pattern and set it aside, labeled, so you can go back and use it to identify the others of that kind that may remain in your working fly boxes.  If you have the patience for it, you might also want to take a few notes about each fly and it’s recommended use—how, when, and where to fish it.  You can use a fly tyer’s pattern index instead, or even the color plates of flies in mail order catalogs.  But seeing the actual fly with its name will produce faster results.  And eventually, if you fish enough, you will begin to commit common fly patterns to memory and recognize them on sight.

Always bear in mind, however, that the fish don’t know the rules by which they are supposed to play.  They don’t know the names of the fly patterns either, nor do they care how someone intended a given fly to be fished.  Sometimes doing something completely off the wall will produce results far better than doing it by the book.  So never be afraid to think outside the box.  The conventional wisdom can be a useful tool, but never let it become a cage from which you can’t escape.

-- Mary S. Kuss --