Water Gremlins  

Some experts would have you believe that fly-fishing mishaps and ill luck are due to your own inadequacies. After painstaking research spanning over three decades, frequently aided by the chemical enhancements of ethanol, I can state without fear of contradiction that this is not true. For the first time, I am releasing the shocking preliminary results of my research. The faint of heart may wish to stop reading now and go on to the next article.

Over sixty years ago, World War II military experts discovered the existence of entities bred (perhaps purposely, by the enemy) to perform sabotage. These versatile troublemakers, code named ‘gremlins’, were deemed responsible for every malfunction from squeaky cockpit seats to aircraft carriers running aground. At the end of the war, not one gremlin was apprehended. Instead, there is evidence they went feral; Breeding, thriving, turning their malevolent talents towards civilian targets: Fly-fishers.

Several breeds have evolved to cause specialized kinds of mischief. Here are a few I’ve identified over the years:

Geoloobs – The first breed I discovered, inspiring my research. These are much like clinging nymphs, but larger. They crawl over stream rocks, leaving a snail-like trail, a bodily secretion that is one of the slickest substances known. In areas of high geoloob population, which include all rocky trout streams and most other rivers, one can scarcely wade without slipping and falling.

Wader Worms – Not really worms at all, these are specialized bacteria that eat rubber, neoprene, vinyl, and modern waterproof synthetic fibers. They bore microscopic pinholes in waders, especially during storage, sometimes even before they are first worn. Little is known of how they spread or procreate, but statistics show they tend to infest the gear of the same anglers over and over again. Are they a parasite using fishermen as carriers? Further research is indicated.

Monobats – These flying creatures with unusually long, strong digits are dangerous to anglers at two stages of their lives. As adolescents, the males attempt to attract mates by feats of speed and agility. They hover over streams, and when fly-anglers false-cast, fly parallel with the airborne leader, tying knots in it with their nimble, incredibly swift toes. Occasionally one is not quite quick enough, is snagged by the moving fly, and agilely seizes the tippet and breaks it. Their interference thus causes flies snapped off on the back cast, as well as so-called wind knots. (More properly, they should be called ‘monobat mating knots’, giving rise to the expression ‘tying the knot’.)
Once mated, the female monobat has a strong nesting instinct. She clings to branches above and alongside streams, where she uses those quick, clever toes to snatch passing tippets and fasten them to twigs and branches as the foundation of her nest. Monobat nests can be found at any popular fishing spot; Look for them, and confirm for yourself that monobats are both widespread and prolific.

Anthropomoths – These insects lay their eggs in fly vests. Whenever an infested fly vest gets close enough to the water, the eggs hatch and the nymphs fall into the water, where they exude strong pheromones that inhibit fish appetites. The nymphs emerge in 24 hours and fish behavior returns to normal. This accounts for the ‘you should have been here yesterday’ phenomenon, and its corollary, the ‘after you left it was like someone turned on a switch’ phenomenon.

Snaggs – The second, less common, species of bottom-dwelling gremlin, snaggs secrete a mortar-like substance, fastening themselves in their hideaways. They lurk in deep water, under logs, in rock crevices, and around man-made structures, including litter. Young snaggs live in mats of water weeds before seeking the dark deeps. But from the moment of hatching, they need vast quantities of iron, so their preferred prey is fishhooks. Spinning lures are their favorites, but they also take jigs, flies, and the occasional bait rig. With jaws like pit bulls, and anchored immovably in their lairs, once they latch onto a hook, they usually win. All an angler can do is break off and yield them their prey.

Magnofrogs – Comparatively benign, these sluggish reptiles cannot help the fact that they generate powerful magnetic fields. They sit on stream banks, unaware of their effects, but their influence attracts fly hooks and drags our back-casts low, resulting in short casts, tailing loops, and outright catching of weeds or shrubs on the back-cast. Magnofrogs outside of the direct line of the cast, or several frogs with interfering magnetic fields, cause inaccurate casts, hinging or puddling leaders, and can drag flies into reach of nesting monobats.

Tattlers – Insects, smaller than Tricos, whose eyes make up fully half of their body mass. Fish almost never eat them, so I assume they are unpalatable. Surely it can’t be true that they refrain because tattlers warn them of danger. But I have observed that, in waters with high populations of tattlers, no fly catches more than a single fish, then subsequent trout that see it ignore it. And the tattler spread rate, historically, is identical to the amount of time it takes a ‘hot pattern’ to stop working. Surely, this is just coincidence. There is absolutely no evidence of communication and cooperation between two such diverse species.

Borrowers – Familiar household gremlins that often take up residence in fishing vests, fly-tying desks, tackle bags, and equipment storage areas. Their forte is moving items from one place to another. That missing reel, the 6X tippet spool that somehow found its way into your bass fishing chest pack, the 3-weight rod you could have sworn you put in the car, the shambles that was once an orderly fly-tying area; These are all the work of borrowers.

Kamikaze hooks – Not gremlins in the strictest sense, they are leftover guerrilla technology from a recent war. Like virii, they exhibit characteristics of both living and manufactured things; One theory, as yet untested, is that they are cyborgs. These hooks are irresistibly attracted to human blood. Even before being inserted in the vise they may assault fingers. Although clamped securely, they sting during the tying process, and again when extracted from the fly box and tied to the tippet. In use, they attack, often at high speeds, any part of the angler’s anatomy they can reach. As insatiable as killer bees, they’ll sting again and again until either the angler bleeds to death or they are eaten by a snagg.
These are just the most prominent of many species of water gremlins. Extending my research beyond the animal world, I am now studying the water gremlins of the plant kingdom. Among the fauna, I have discovered fly-eating trees that actually move, which I call insectovorents; Water plants that swim through the water to ball around hooked fish, flies, lures, anchors, and boat propellers, which I call smotherweed; And streamside brambles adapted to catch and eat fly anglers the way Venus fly traps eat flies, (name unprintable).
It is obvious that this is a fertile area for further research. I encourage all my colleagues to seek out and study these fascinating creatures, and would be glad to hear of any encounters you may have, especially with new species. Whether water gremlins are malevolent, or convenient excuses, is a subject for future articles.

--Rabbit Jensen--
Autumn 2007 Issue