Grampa Gets To Pass On His Fly Tying Knowledge

When one of my three granddaughters, after watching me tie several chironomid pupa patterns, asked, “Grampa, will you teach us to tie flies?” I was amazed and delighted.

Amazed because the three girls could have been sunning themselves on the clean sand within yards of where I was tying or exploring around Haystack Rock at Cannon Beach along Oregon’s coast.

Delighted because they had shown interest in something that I was doing and wanted to try something that seems to most youngsters to be difficult, dull and boring. Naturally, my answer was, “Which one of you wants to tie the first fly?”

My wife and daughters had made arrangements to rent a two-story house on the beach for a few days and the families had settled down to enjoy the constant, subdued roar of the ocean breakers, relax on the clean sand, poke around the rocks during low tides and stroll through the long, narrow village of Cannon Beach.

My granddaughters are bright, inquisitive girls who are wise beyond their years.

Genni, 20, a University of Washington junior and one-time page for former House speaker Tom Foley, is vivacious, smart and compassionate.

Lindsay, 15, a member of the Ferris High School drill team, is more reserved and outspoken than her sister and is fashion-conscious.

Rachel, 7, a second grader at a Tacoma grade school, has a vivid imagination and a mind as sharp as one of my laser-sharpened hooks. She plays the violin, can identify and cite the life histories of more than a dozen dinosaurs and draws delightful cartoons of animals.

The three were ideal candidates for a brief fly tying course. They hadn’t heard that fly tying is supposed to be difficult, which it isn’t, and they assumed that tying a fly that would catch fish would be fun. And fun it was.

Genni, eager to try something new, volunteered to be the first to attempt to tie a fly. I had been tying black Swannundaze patterns on No. 14 hooks. The Swannundaze is one of the most popular chironomid pupa patterns in the Northwest.

For a few seconds, I contemplated selecting materials for a pattern that would be simple to tie because I didn’t want the girls to lose interest, but decided that they would be capable, given their intelligence and eagerness, of tying the small, somewhat complicated pupa pattern.

Beginners quickly learn that their fingers can get in the way of one another, that spider web-thin 8/0 thread breaks easily when too much pressure is applied and that tying some materials on a hook requires patience and practice.

Because I had intended to tie only small patterns during the vacation, I had put only the fine 8/0 thread in the kit. All three girls quickly learned how much pressure they could use to tie materials on a hook without breaking the thread.

The Swannundaze pupa pattern isn’t the easiest fly to tie nor is it the most difficult. However, a tier must use several of the most basic tying techniques to produce one.

All three girls watched me closely as I tied in a one-eighth-inch-long white tail, wound on black plastic material for the body, tied a dozen or so fibers of pheasant tail for the wing case, wound on peacock herl for the gills, tied in a bunch of white fibers near the hook’s eye and then tied down the pheasant tail fibers over the herl and white fibers.

As closely as they watched, each girl fumbled with the materials. Genni’s long fingernails got in the way more often than her fingers. Rachel had more trouble attaching material to the hook than any other operation. Lindsay’s fingers just wouldn’t do what she wanted them to do.

But each girl produced a pattern that closely resembled a standard black Swannundaze pupa. As they tied, they became more proficient. And all three wanted to tie another fly.

The next day I chose a Woolly Bugger for the second pattern. It’s relatively easy to tie and it looks buggy. It’s also one of the most popular patterns with the region’s fly fishers.

With a little coaching, the girls quickly turned out presentable Woolly Buggers.

They tied Brown Hackle Peacocks and Girdle Bugs on the third day. By the time they produced the rubber-legged Girdle Bugs, they were almost comfortable at the tying vise.

And they wanted to tie more flies.

The girls proudly showed their flies to their parents and carefully stored the patterns in empty film containers. They had accomplished something that few youngsters achieve. They didn’t let the seemingly intricate fly tying operations deter them.

As for me, well, I didn’t produce the five or six dozen patterns I had intended to tie, but, seeing the delighted expressions on the girls’ faces as they admired their flies was worth the loss of my fly tying time.

I assured them that their flies were so good that I’d be willing to use them. And I meant it.