Showing posts with label fly-tying. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fly-tying. Show all posts

Friday, November 30, 2012

OUT!! #17: Nature I Loved

There's always a certain quality to outdoor life stories that have us drawn in again and again and again. Not survival stories necessarily, but a good "I'm going to the woods to find out who I am" sort of story. "Nature I Loved" by Bill Geagan is just such a story. The blurb on the back of the book describes the basic plot as the following: "Badgered by his parents to settle down, find a good job, and get married, Geagan spent two years alone thinking things over. He found good solutions. Full of hunting and fishing scenes, young and old alike will identify with this heartwarming true story."

The real sticking point for me was that, as a lover of the outdoors and of Mother Nature herself, I've always been intrigued by the prospect of an outdoor life by doing a combination of self sufficient living and woodsman skills. But I always felt I fell short, either in regard to basic survival skills to the remoteness that Geagan experienced back in those days and even whether I could even undertake such a seemingly monumental task. I remember picking this book up as a freshman at Unity College and reading it cover to cover. The journey Geagan was taking seemed so distant from what my path seemed to be at the time: a college aged boy learning the skills and concepts he would need to get a job in the wildlife management field and then go on to live his life according to that plan. However recently, as I spend my days sitting and reading and thinking (my current job has a lot of down time), I've come to relate to some of the themes brought about by the author. I can relate to the sense of hopelessness one feels when they cannot find something they like or want to do as well as the societal expectations one feels pressured upon them when they can't get a job quickly enough or even one associated with their degree of study. I feel fortunate though that during the period Geagan lived in, I don't have to live under the same conditions. Having been published in the 50s, the idea of settling down with a good job and a family on the way seemed like the perfect model for life at the time. Thank goodness he took a different path. (Mind you he got "there" eventually, but by no means in a conventional manner.)

I love stories like this with their rich descriptions of nature and its wonders, but also the hard reality of the situation he put himself in so he could find his true passion in life. As I was reading over it today, I read a paragraph that reassured a position I'd held for a while, but never had the courage to hold aloft as my own. No worries though. It's not a major character issue or problem, but instead the idea of beauty vs. function when it comes to fishing flies. I'm the type of person that will use something over and over again because it works as opposed to what it looks like. This is why I prefer using hand-tied nymph flies over dries. This is primarily because dries are supposed to imitate a specific surface insect form while a nymph can be bushy, pulled loose, and wooly without the fish paying too much mind to it. It's also because I tie really crappy dry flies. What's most important however, is the motion given to the fly or lure that will attract the fishes attention, rather than size, shape, or bold and bright colors. Geagan writes of an angler he met in his first summer while chopping wood at his cabin and describes the flies the man was using as "…very large, very gaudy, and very heavily dressed wet flies tied on huge hooks that somebody had unloaded on him." While it is true that some of the most complex salmon flies ever tied are beautiful pieces of art (as seen below), as Geagan describes, they are woefully overdressed for most situations.
The Green Highlander. More appropriately designed to capture the attention of humans than of trout.
Geagan said it best on pg. 158 when he described how they were more often human attraction devices than fish catching ones.
"With the white hair from the tail of the deer, also squirrel hair, feathers from the hens, and what materials I had in my kit, I was able to turn out a large number of streamers, also wet flies and tiny dry flies. My flies were far from first class. They would never have sold in the stores. But they weren't tied for fisherman, they were tied for fish and they caught them and stood up well under the punishment. Most flies I have seen in the shops were tied to attract the fisherman. And they buy them at prices I have always thought were much too high. The flies are gaudy and usually too heavily dressed to fool fish, particularly those wise old guys on waters that are fished hard."
I'm always amazed by the simplicity presented in this book, how function generally trumps form and how a little ingenuity and thinking can yield much better results than just sticking to convention. That's ultimately what brings me back to the book over and over again. Having some different idea or concept from everyone else and trying to work it out another way rather than hopelessly grinding away at tried and worn out trails to the same future trodden on by the feet of so many others. It's exactly what Thoreau described when he explained that "most men lead lives of quiet desperation…" We all want avoid that trap, so I give you the advice of another one of America's greats, Mark Twain.
"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover."
 Thank you for reading and have a lovely weekend.

Monday, October 15, 2012

OUT!! #13: Wooden Waterfowl and Threadbare Hooks

Ever since I got my first book on the subject (a copy of Duck Hunting by Dick Sternburg and Jeff Simpson), I've been infatuated with the romance and practice of waterfowling. While I haven't gotten the chance to go yet, I hope I will be able to at some point. After getting my hunter education certificate almost two Octobers ago, I had hoped I would have gone by now, but something's has always been holding me back. Well, most things about the sport are holding me back, particularly the owning a shotgun, being able to aim at and hit targets, and having the means with which to hunt a particular area are all issues for me, but I have promised myself that it won't stop me now. Not while I still have a chance when I'm still young and have the time.

It's pretty fair to say that I idolize waterfowlers. This might seem like an overstatement, but they are, at least in my opinion, some of the most courteous, conservation-driven, and hard-working men and women in the sporting world. Within their sport exists a passion for quest and quarry that can easily be compared to other forms of hunting like deer, small game, and pheasant. But instead, it has the air of a distinctly American heritage that isn't seen in other sporting cultures around the world such as the private land shoots of European aristocracy or the safaris of Africa and India.

Hand-tied flies are always a joy to see and use.
What initially attracted me to the idea of going out waterfowling was the same thing that had attracted me to fly-fishing; it was the art and craft of making one's own tools for use in the field. In the picture to the left are three streamer flies, two nymphs, and three dry flies that I have tied within the last two years or so. The first thing that jumps to mind is their scruffy appearance which, to the eye of an expert, might put them off and refer to them as an amateur's attempt at trying to copy a natural form. But one has to keep in mind that fish, being wary but fairly simple creatures, tend only to care if they can eat something that fits easily into their mouths. The very earliest flycasters used hooks with barely any feathers and thread and still managed to catch fish, so I'm trying at the very least. Ultimately, when you see at something that you created, catching some finned denizen from a pond or stream, the pride that is felt is enormous. After catching a few panfish on my modified Brassie nymph (the small, brown, fuzzy-headed one with the thin, gold body), I caught a few more with my Fur Ant (the even fuzzier, black one above it). Such good times and yet, I want to go further.

A folksy sort-of attempt at a winter plumage Spoon-billed Sandpiper.

I want to make and hunt over my own decoys. I certainly have the ability and the means to do so. As the photos on the side attest, I have at least mastered the basics of carving and can paint a decent decoy, but I want to excel to something much trickier and that if put to proper use, would be way more rewarding.

A sleeping juvenile plumage Spoon-billed Sandpiper decoy.
Earlier this year I received probably two of the most important inspirations that have spurred my renewed interest in hunting waterfowl. The first was the discovery of Jeff Coats' channel on YouTube. The man has an immense passion for hunting sea ducks and Brant (Branta bernicla) in Maryland, as well as other waterfowl in other parts of the country like the southern bayous or the Pacific coast. After watching his documentation of Pat Vincenti's method of making Susquehanna Flats style Surf Scoter (Melanitta perspicillata) decoys as well as his own videos on how he makes working decoys for his guiding business, I was blown away by the dedication the man had to his sport and to his craft of decoy making. Seeing someone willing to put the time and effort into building and maintain their own "blocks" was a real inspiration to me. With that spark, I set out to look for other sources of inspiration. I'm pleased to say that I wasn't disappointed.

Earlier in the summer, I got the opportunity to visit the Ward Museum of Waterfowl Art in Salisbury, MD, a museum dedicated to exhibiting the craft and art form of working and realistic waterfowl decoys, as well as other bird carvings. Some of my favorite pieces came from the namesake of the museum, the Ward brothers themselves, in an exhibit which contained a detailed replica of their workshop down to the paintbrushes, blocks of wood, and carving tools they used to make it all happen. Like most famous decoy carvers, they were originally hunters who carved their own flocks of birds to hunt over. Other famous area decoy makers include Robert F. McGaw, Samuel T. Barnes, and the revered R. Madison Mitchell, who with their own unique carving patterns and styles, maintained a presence in hunting culture within the area. Today, many of their works are considered to be collectables and are prized possessions to many a modern collector.

With all sorts of inspiration around, I recently got down to the how-to of decoy making. After recently finishing of my Hooded Merganser (Lophodytes cucullatus) decoy (needs eyes however), I'm feeling ready to start my flock of decoys. Turning to my beaten up copy of the aforementioned "Duck Hunting", I looked into what supplies I would need to start learning the right skills of the sport I have been reading about all my life. Because I'm interesting in hunting for food, I'm going for dabblers, with some of the better tasting divers like Ring-necked Duck (Aythya collaris) in mind as well. As such, on the list of decoys to make are the following:

10 Mallards (6 m/ 4 f, 2 feeders)
4 Black Duck (2 m/ 2 f, 1 feeder)
4 Wood Duck (2 m/ 2 f)
8 Scaup (4 m/ 4 f)

I'll have pictures of my progress up as I go along, but for now I'm just planning. It's time to make this dream a reality and I will make sure that I achieve it. Let the good times roll. ^_^