By Dr. Derrick MacFabe

Newcomers to our pastime are often intimidated by the supposed intricacies of choosing and presenting the right offering to their finned quarry. Most of us can't even pronounce such mouthfuls as Stenonema tripuncatum, and instead choose to supplement more descriptive four letter words best not uttered in the presence of children. We find it bizarre that trout would sooner sip tiny, rice-sized critters and snobbily turn their noses up at more meatier entrees. A "Drag Free Float" to a few of us, may even mean that you cannot enter the drift boat in your wife's dress (this last group, alas may be beyond help).

However, a bit of basic knowledge on the life cycles and behaviours of the main groups of aquatic insects, practising one or two basic types of casts, and a little stream-side observation, may be all that is needed to put you well on your way toward becoming a seasoned veteran.

As a brief review, it pays to get a basic idea of the personal lives of these critters. For the newcomer, it is not necessary to know the species, genus and phylum of every creature you find, only that you have a little brown bug about so big and that you think it might be a mayfly. However, it does pay to know a bit about the LOVE LIFE of some of these creatures. While this may seem to be a bit strange or maybe even voyeuristic, it's the amazing coordinated preparation for mating in these insects that creates the so-called hatch condition. Here, so much of one type of insect is present, that the fish will refuse all else. In many situations, trout will only feed on a certain STAGE of an insect's life cycle, because that is what is easiest to catch. Often it is not what is most obvious to us, and this fact is often the most challenging aspects of fly fishing.

Enter the Participants: 

I. Caddis Flies

With apologies to the entomologists in the crowd, let's firstly consider the life cycle of a typical caddis fly, the net spinning caddis (Hydropsyche/Cheumatopsyche species), probably the most common bug on Ontario's Grand River. Caddis undergo complete metamorphosis (remember your public school science class), hatching into an aquatic caterpillar-like larval stage, then turning into a pupa which rises to the surface to release the winged sexually mature adult. The adults are very moth- like in appearance, with no tails and tentlike wings. They are poor fliers, and hordes are often seen clinging to stream-side vegetation, or banging clumsily on the water's surface. These fellows are important to trout because they are pollution resistant, numerous, and are capable of reproducing two or three generations per year, so there are always caddis larvae in the stream.

Net spinning caddis larvae are rather interesting little beasties. Unable to swim, they live a precarious life attached to rocks in fast water. There they construct silken webs that resemble miniature hockey nets with which they filter out their microscopic meals from the current. They often become dislodged, tumbling haplessly in the current during high water flows. They also often leave their perches on purpose, usually under the seclusion of night, when they outgrow their little caddis condos or the nets become clogged with debris. It is then they are at the mercy of hungry trout. It can be seen that this knowledge may be helpful to us. 

As caddis larva can't swim, dead drifting an imitation such as a 10 to 18 olive bead head caddis along the bottom in riffles or at the head of a pool, particularly in early morning, is a good way to begin fishing a stream when nothing appears to be happening. Check the surfaces of the stream rocks to find the appropriate natural to copy. As the trout's take of nymphs like the caddis is often subtle, strike indicators help detect nibbles. For beginners, casting the imitation upstream, letting it sink and gathering in slack for line control, or paying out line for a slack line downstream presentation while watching for any abnormal jump of the indicator is a good start. For the more initiated, reach or squiggle casts with upstream mends will mean longer, more natural floats. In deeper or faster run, one or two split shot a couple of feet up from the fly may help keep it near bottom, as will an adjustable indicator.

When net spinning caddis are ready to pupate, they cover themselves with a stone and silk casing affixed to rocks, and so are inaccessible to trout. When ready to emerge, they poke out of their hiding places, and helplessly float, en masse, to the surface. Gases form under the pupa to help it float upwards and also aid in the release of the winged adult, which may occur almost immediately. Basically, caddis pupae resemble small shimmering bubbles with trailing legs, and are easy pickings for waiting trout. Browns can often be seen in tail-outs, slashing viciously around fluttering caddisflies, but ignoring adult caddis-fly imitations. The trout are often feeding on these emergers, as it is more energy efficient to grab these helpless pupae as they float upwards than to snatch a rapidly escaping adult off the surface.

A caddis pupa imitation, such as a weighted antron Lafontaine pattern, is an excellent choice. The sparkling antron traps air, which the trout seem to key in on. Initially, fish it in riffles, dead drift along the bottom like the larva pattern. However, at the end of the drift, let it swing around, raise your rod tip, and let the fly rise to the surface on a tight line with the occasional tiny twitch. Fish often hit pupa imitations hard, so a strike indicator isn't necessary. Also, hold the line loosely in your fingers at the end of the drift to avoid break offs.

As previously mentioned, newly emerged caddis adults often immediately fly off the water, and the trout often ignore them. However, cold or rainy weather can slow down their emergence and an adult imitation such as an elk hair caddis, dead drifted, may be useful. The newer cripple ties representing a helpless, newly emerged adult still trapped to its pupal shuck, may work, as it looks like an easy meal. A sparse winged elk hair caddis, minus the hackle, with a loose antron dubbing trailer to suggest the dragging pupa, is worth a try.

Adult caddis returning to the stream to lay their eggs are another matter. Some approach the surface like little Kamikaze dive-bombers, smashing and skittering on the surface to lay their eggs, (I guess headaches don't hinder their love life). Others actually swim to the bottom, wings and all. All -in-all this makes for some fun fishing. Watching the water or running your landing net along the stream-side vegetation should provide you with a useful specimen to imitate. Picking them off fellow fishermen may get you strange looks.

Tying a series of elk hair caddises, from size 10 to 18, with bodies of olive, yellowish tan and brown, cover most of the caddis found in our area. To fish them, start with a dead drift, in moderate to fast currents. The deer hair wing makes them float like a cork. Toward the end of the drift, hold the rod tip horizontal and gently vibrate the rod tip. Better still, creep the line in with your stripping hand to make the fly skate across the surface to imitate an egg laying female. Alternately, sporadically pop the fly underwater and let it float back up again, finally fishing it as a wet fly at the end of the drift. Both these methods suggest the surface smashing or diving habits of the egg laying females, and often work when others fail.

Therefore, with a little basic knowledge, a beginner can fish most caddis hatches. There are other species of caddis flies, but most have larva that live in little armoured tank cases made of sticks (Giant September Sedge-Pycnopsych), or stones (Little September Sedge- Neophlax), which protect their bones so trout can seldom eat'em, but fall fishing with dries can be productive. The exception is the large brown sedge (Rhyacophila). Their larva, the predacious green rock worm, whose claim to fame is crawling around eating its more pacifistic relatives, is best imitated by a bright green larva pattern, size 8 to 14 dead drifted through fast water any time. Adults hatch sporadically so dry fly fishing is not that great. The adults of most of the other smaller caddis, down to the tiny size 20 micro caddis (Dibusa), can be fished similar to the above methods, by matching size and colour to what you find on the water. In fact, you will seldom find a day when caddis are not on the stream, so keeping these basics in mind should always come in helpful.

II. Mayflies

These fellows are the bread and butter of flyfishers everywhere, and enough has been written about them to fill up the Elora Gorge. Ranging in size from the tiny number 24 Tiny Blue Winged Olive (Pseudocloeon), to the 4cm Great Olive Spinner (Hexagenia), they are among the most primitive of insects and have a unique life cycle. Development is by incomplete metamorphasis. They all start life as an aquatic nymph, each species with its own specialized habits, but all easily recognized with their two or three tails, and a single set of wing pads. Some live on or under rocks or vegetation, some burrow deep within the stream bottom, while others are free swimming. When the nymphs are mature, they ascend to the surface. There the nymphal skin splits and releases the subimago (dun) recognized by its opaque, upright wings which make it look like a little sailboat as it floats along the surface. If the trout don't get to them, the duns fly to stream-side vegetation, where I guess they contemplate their upcoming mayfly prom. There they make their final moult into sexually mature imagos (spinners), identified by their clear wings, long paired tails and a flying style that resembles a yo yo with wings. Flying in huge pulsating clouds sometimes hundreds of feet skyward, they mate in the air, joining the Mayfly Mile High Club. Basically a reproductive system with wings, they have no mouthparts and only live for a day or so before descending to the water, wings outstretched, to lay their eggs and die. So, its dancing but no dinner for female mayflies, the cheap dates of the insect world, but its this last act of egg-laying, coined the "spinner fall", which produces some of the best dry fly fishing of all. 

Let's consider one of the most abundant of Southern Ontario's spring mayflies, the Hendricksons (Ephemerella rotunda). They are the first major hatch of the season, waking both trout and flyfishers from their winter comas. All mayflies have specialised life cycles, and thus should be fished differently, but the mighty Hendricksons, which hatch in early to mid May, are a good standard for the beginner to hang his hat on. 

Hendrickson nymphs, as their scientific name suggests, are pudgy (the politically correct would call them circumferentially challenged) olive brown poor swimming critters. They are mayfly couch potatoes and live among rocks in moderate currents. When nothing's happening try dead drifting a weighted size 14 mahogany nymph with a black tail over a strike indicator in the deeper runs and pockets. Polarized glasses are a real help at finding good spots. A good time for most nymph fishing is when higher water levels just start to clear. Even if they are not emerging, most bottom dwelling nymphs get knocked off their perches and into the mouths of hungry fish. Any nymph pattern, even the larger burrowing species (size 6 or 8 Hexagenias), which are normally inaccessible to trout except at emergence, will often work. As these creepy crawlies are the Olympic swimmers of the Mayfly world, try fishing an appropriate imitation, tied with a 1 cm. olive rabbit zonker strip for a tail, with little jerks and pauses, and hold on.

As hatch time approaches, usually mid afternoon in the case of Hendricksons, mature nymphs become more active, scurrying about the bottom and then rising to the surface shallows and split their skins to become duns. At the tail ends of pools, flashes of nymphing trout are worth looking for. Try letting the nymph swing around through this water of a tail-out into shallow water, to simulate the pre-hatch activity which is taking place.

Emergence of the duns is often lengthened in cold or rainy weather. Trout may be seen slashing at the surface as flotillas of duns float by or fly away. Alternatively, one may see head and tail rises. Traditional upwinged size 14 Hendrickson dun imitations floated dead drift may work, but better fishing may be had by using emerger patterns, the most overlooked method of fly fishing. It is much more energy efficient for trout to grab an emerger stuck in the surface film struggling to remove its nymphal shuck, than to snatch a dun ready to fly away (does this sound familiar?).

Some of the best emerger patterns consist of a nymph like body with a bunched wing of cul de canard (CDC). The latter are small feathers gathered near the oil gland of a duck's bum, hopefully removed when the duck does not know you're coming. This stuff is totally water repellant and represents the head of the emerging mayfly as it splits out of the nymphal shuck. It also makes the fly more visible to you. The messier you make them the better. Tie a mahogany, or yellowish-brown body with a grey CDC bunched wing on a 14 dry fly hook for a Hendrickson. CDC flies are also excellent in slow water, providing a realistic profile when rising trout can take a long discriminating look at your offering. 

Don't have any emergers? Try taking one of your unweighted nymphs and douse it and the thick end of your leader (within a yard of the fly) with floatant. Alternatively, use Krazy Glue to stick one of those coloured styrofoam beads (the kind the evil spawn fishermen use to float up their eggs) to the back thorax of one of your nymphs. This makes a highly visible and well floating emerger. Using these above techniques, you can fish emergers or nymphs well into evening, while you wait for the spinner fall at dusk.

Many find spinner-fall fishing the most exciting and frustrating time for all dry fly enthusiasts. High overhead, swirling flocks of feasting swallows betray clouds of mayflies in love, so it pays to look up (maybe for more reasons than one!) Female mayflies descend to deposit their little yellow egg sacks, and then drift helpless all over the water's surface, wings outstretched. As Dr. Seuss would say, one fish, two fish, big fish, little fish all come out of hiding to feast. They park themselves anywhere, and gently sip spinners from the surface, leaving a classic ringed bubble behind. As the takes are slow and deliberate, again to conserve energy, you often can't tell a 3 inch chub from a 10 pound brown. For us, spent mayflies on the surface are very hard to see. But from the fish's eye view, a spinner's clear wings glow, advertising "free meal". Spinner fishing is more like hunting, requiring alert eyes, exact imitations, gentle casts and drag free floats. However, it is not as difficult as some would have you believe, if you use a little common sense.

As before, take the time to find out what the fish are eating. Look down low over the water, or better still try to net some of the preoccupied bugs in the air or in the surface film. Pay close attention to the UNDERSIDE colours of the insect, as this is the part the fish see. Often, you may find more than one species is present. Here, the trout may be ignoring the more obvious flies and instead taking a smaller less visible species, creating a so-called “masking” hatch. But, as said before, we are fishing Hendricksons, so use a size 14 or 16 mahogany or amber no hackle spinner with organza or CDC wings, and a yellow egg case for good luck. Use liberal floatant and extra long split tails for better floatation, and save your best tied imitations for slow water or finicky trout. In rougher water or low light conditions, try gluing a red styrofoam bead to the back of the fly, as before, for better visibility and floatation.

The best tied flies in the world are useless if you scare the fish with bad wading or casting, or the fly doesn't drift naturally on the surface. Look for rising fish, but don't wade over likely looking water unless you've covered it with a few casts. Instead, slowly move toward risers, playing close attention to those near deep water or cover, or where two currents meet. These are often the largest trout, which don't always make loud tell-tale slurps to reveal their presence. Sometimes it pays to just stay put in a good spot and wait for fish to show themselves, rather than just sloshing around scaring everything. However, by moving slowly and deliberately, it's often amazing how close you sneak up to these preoccupied fish. This is because these trout, being just under the surface , have a very narrow angle of vision. They can often only see a few inches from either side, and simply wait for food to float by conveyer belt fashion toward them.

This can be an advantage as well as a disadvantage. You may be able to get close to the fish, but unless the fly drifts right over the fish's nose, it can't see it. This is where being an accurate caster helps. Cast so the fly lands a couple of meters upstream from the fish's last rise, and if it is slightly off, gently drag it into place. There is nothing natural about a fly or fly line bonking a trout on the head. Neither will dragging the line directly over the fish. Wait until the fly has well passed the fish before gently picking it up for the next cast, making sure the leader, and not the thick fly line crosses over the trout's feeding lane. Also, casting with the rod and line low spooks less brownies.

Lastly, spinners can't swim upstream. In fact, most spinners are quite dead, although I guess they died happy. As far as I know, most dead things in water don't move unless you drag them by a rope. So, mayfly spinners, like a lot of flies that can't swim, must drift passively along with the current. This is done with a slack line without line tension, leaving no discernable wake, or drag on the fly. This is what is meant by a "drag free float". For the beginner, start with a straight or slack line cast, quartering upstream, and follow the fly with the rod tip. Short, accurate casts are better than flogging the water. Gently flip your fly line upstream of the fly, so it won't be pulled by the current and drag the fly along for the ride. Called line mending, this technique greatly increases the natural drift of dries and nymphs. More advanced reach, squiggle or curve casts, as well as brushing up on the basics, are taught to perfection in the Doug Swisher demonstration videos from Scientific Anglers and are well worth watching. 

As can be seen, a little knowledge of the private lives of these wee beasties can make you a better fly-fisher.

By knowing the basics of a common caddis or mayfly life cycle and using it as a skeleton, you can piggyback information on their relatives , who mainly differ only by the time of year and time of day different stages are available to trout. One can do no better than to read Flyfishing the Grand River by Drs. Ian Martin and Jane Rutherford, a husband and wife team who have written the Masters and Johnson sex manual for stream insects. Although it ain't exactly Melrose Place, learning the intimate lives of stream insects can be fun, and it may be all you have left when your wife leaves you after finding out that your new bamboo 4 weight cost $950!