Years of hard work only way to earn fisherman’s `easy life’

Contrary to a sign common in camps and other sportsmen’s sanctums – “A fisherman is a jerk at one end of a line waiting for a jerk at the other end” – most disciples of Izaak Walton are dedicated individuals whose abilities to observe, analyze, and innovate are as sharp as bait needles. Now, don’t think mention of those instruments won’t have streamer fly purists reaching for the Rolaids.

That condescension, however, doesn’t cause any backlashes among bait fishermen. They claim that as long as there are fly fishermen there will always be fish. ‘Course the fact of the matter is there are times, soon after ice-out, when landlocked salmon aren’t at all choosy in making hit-and-run attempts at streamers or sewed-on smelts. Let’s face it, either method provides sport, not to mention poached salmon and fresh peas smothered with egg gravy, if you’re so disposed.

So, allowing that it’s a matter of personal choice, which do you prefer, fishing fast or slow? To take up any slack left by that question, understand that streamer flies are trolled fast, baits are fished slowly. Trained eyes, therefore, can tell by the speed of fishing boats whether the stowage is fly books or bait buckets. To untrained eyes, however, fishermen appear merely as outdoorsy characters cruising along in boats with lines dragging behind them. But because you can’t judge a book by its cover, let’s take a closer look at those characters who seem only to be soaking up fresh air and sunlight while sipping coffee or cold drinks.

Granted, from a distance it appears that flies are quickly tied on and tossed overboard. Not so. Serious “feather haulers” are more than fastidious in preparing their offerings. Many use neatly coiled clinch knots and modifications thereof, while others use knots that form loops at the eyes of hooks instead of snugging tight. Theoretically, the looped connections allow trolled flies to wiggle fish-like. Earnest streamer fishermen also soak their flies thoroughly, stroking and arranging feathers, herls and hair into streamlined profiles that will swim upright. Often, two or more flies are tied to a leader, thereby creating a school of phony baitfish.

At the risk of drawing disparaging glances from canoeists and kayakers, streamer fishermen pray for wind to churn a lake into a “salmon chop.” It’s no secret that the ideal time to troll flies along rocky shores and points is when the lake is ruffled with whitecaps. Chances are nonfisherman won’t notice the zig-zag, cover-more-water course of the boat, either; or the pumping action of fly rods that, along with the chop, makes flies scoot and dart like spooked smelts.

Never let it be said that fly pattern doesn’t make a difference. Years ago, the late Blaine Darling and I were fishing in the Spencer Bay area of Moosehead Lake. Our tackle was nearly identical and we were both trolling Gray Ghost streamers, the only exception being that Blaine’s fly had a sparse throat of red hackle. Practically every time we passed a small point he had a rod-bending strike. I couldn’t buy a fish – until we exchanged flies. And there you have the reason why fly-tier fishermen are constantly altering patterns.

Careful consideration is also given to lines. Some streamer fishermen prefer monofilament, others favor braided silk or synthetic products and there are those who fish only fly lines, full-sinking or sinking-tip, of course. For the obvious reason, forget floating lines for trolling. Again, it’s a matter of personal choice: one Sport swears by a line that keeps his fly close to the surface, even skimming now and then. His fishing partner, however, is convinced that streamers work best when trolled a few inches beneath the chop.

You can bet the distance a fly is trolled behind a boat is also more choice than chance. When a fisherman consistently hooks keeper salmon on flies trolled practically in the motor’s wake, nobody’s going to convince him that 60 feet back will provide more opportunities to wet the landing net.

You may know that, nowadays, innovative fishermen are trolling streamers behind “Dodgers.” Word is that varying the lengths of leader between the flashy attractors and flies creates actions that salmon find irresistible – well, at times, anyway.

Why are baits trolled slowly? Because they are intended to represent injured fish. Additionally, too fast a pace may tear and mutilate a sewn bait. Although smelts and shiners are trolled in the same locations as streamers, salmon often take sewn baits in water that is too calm for fishing streamers. While most bait fishermen troll smelts just under the surface, others offer the salmon’s preferred forage behind a color or two of lead-core line, especially early in the season.

Now, if you think sewing on a bait isn’t serious stuff, you haven’t spent much time in fishing boats. Make no mistake about it, rigging a smelt so that it rolls and wobbles slowly and enticingly is an art that isn’t mastered quickly or divulged readily, even among friends. For example, a now-departed fishing partner of mine – and a hell of a fisherman, too – would turn his back on me while he threaded a single, snelled hook through a smelt. Eventually, though, he mellowed with age and showed me his “secret” method.

Although old-school fishermen still prefer sewing baits on, the sliding-hook rigs common today have all but replaced bait needles. In fact, a few years ago two young fishermen watched intently as I sewed on a smelt after a lunch break on Green Lake’s sandbar. I couldn’t believe they’d never seen it done.

Dedicated individuals, fishermen, and acute observers, analyzers, and innovators. But therein lies the magic of the sport – trying this, that, and the other and all the while waiting for that jerk on the other end of the line.