In one of the hard-to-reach inner pockets in the deep recesses of my fishing vest is a box of special flies. These are no-secret creations or special patterns of modern synthetics with flash and flair. In the box is an assortment of fairly new flies tied from very old patterns in a style that is seldom used by today’s anglers.

Every once in awhile when fishing is tough, yet I know the trout are there, sometimes I can even see them feeding, I dig out that special fly box, root around inside until something strikes my fancy and tie it on my leader. Invariably, one fly or another from the selection will take a few brookies for me, often when it seems every fish in the area has lockjaw.

My unique fly box is full of wet flies. Most of the original patterns are more than 100 years old, but these are tied with modern materials. Just because a fly is fished under water doesn’t mean it’s a true wet fly pattern. Streamers, bucktails, nymphs, emergers, and buggers are all below surface performers, but each is just a modern alteration of the classic, often colorful, swept wing, short-bodied traditional wet fly. Silver doctor, Parmacheene belle, Montreal, trout fin, professor and grizzly king are but a few old-fashioned, often overlooked, wet-fly patterns that still work on new age fish.

Case in point

About two weeks ago Mike Wallace, Caston Lovely and I parked along a back road near Fort Fairfield and wandered through the woods until we were standing along a stretch of the Aroostook River. This particular run has several islands of various sizes polka dotting the water, and is always excellent early season trout fishing. Brookies ranging from 8- to 12-inches hold in the eddies above and below each island, in run-outs below a dozen sets of rips and along gravel bars at mid-stream.

The water level was perfect, shallow enough that sub-surface boulders prevented trolling, therefore no passing boats would interfere with out casting; but high enough that chest waders were a must to reach the best runs. As we surveyed the waterway for a few minutes our trio was surprised and a bit excited to see a few trout rising. Despite the late spring water level and cool Aroostook nights, this day’s late afternoon sun had promoted a small hatch.

We each started digging for fly boxes and picked out likely dry fly patterns that might match the hatch, a light Cahill, Henryville special and a gold ribbed hare’s ear got the nod. Our threesome entered the fast running river and slowly made the precipitous journey to mid-stream, where we spread out 50 yards apart to work our fly wands over likely holding runs. By the time we were each in place the hatch had picked up, and the water surface was dotted with feeding trout everywhere we looked. It was going to be an exciting evening.

Half an hour later anticipation and enthusiasm had turned to frustration. I’d changed dry flies so many times my leader tippet had to be replaced, and my fishing buddies were in the same quandary. The infuriating part was that more fish than ever were bubbling the surface around us, sometimes so close we could have touched them with the rod tip.

Between us we had offered more than 25 sizes, shapes and colors of dry flies to the furiously feeding speckled-sided beauties, but had not stumbled on the right combination. In all we had caught and released only five moderate-sized trout, the largest brookies, 16- to 18-inches and well over the pound mark were completely oblivious to our offerings.

Changing tactics

I figured the trout had to be gobbling up emergers, the aquatic version of a May fly just before it reaches the surface, sheds its casing, spreads wings and flits away. Figuring out the situation is a long ways from finding the right emerger pattern. At the end of an hour we were still buffaloed and more than a little bit disgruntled at our inability to solve the situation. It was then on a whim that I ferreted out my little box of wet flies.

For no other reason than it has always been one of my Dad’s favorite patterns for over 50 years, I picked a size No. 14 yellow-bodied, gold-ribbed Black and White. Similar to a McGinty, this fly is a dependable producer in high, clear water. I carefully waded my way to the top lip of a long swift run along an island and began making quartering casts across the current, allowing the fly to swing to the outside edge of the fast water. During each drift I applied a slight wrist twitch to give the fly a bit more of a swimming motion, plus I let it spend several seconds undulating straight downstream at the end of each swing.

Halfway through the third cast a solid strike stopped the fly in mid-drift and a few minutes later a fat 11-inch brookie slid into the net. I quickly released the fish, and refrained from alerting my two casting companions, just in case it was sheer luck. Two casts later a swirl and hard tug tightened the line and then the fish was gone. I had waded halfway along the chute when another fish rose but refused, then came back again on the second try with a solid take. Five minutes into our thrashing tug of war the hook pulled free from the jaw of a hearty 13- to 16-inch trout.

I took another step, made a cast and turned to holler to Mike who was fishing closest to me, about 60 yards upstream. In the midst of telling him to come to my spot, the rod was nearly snapped from my hand by a savage strike. The fish wallowed on the surface flailing water and showing a bright orange belly, a quick 10-yard run followed and then another surface display of thrashing and splashing – very unusual for a trout early in the fight. A few seconds later the fish was gone and I was aghast. I surmised, and Mike agreed, since he saw it all as he was coming to meet me, that the brookie was 18- to 20-inches and more than two pounds. It was the largest trout I’d hooked in several years, but at least I had the thrill for a few seconds.

It didn’t take much convincing for Mike to tie on a duplicate of my wet fly that I offered. Over the next 40 minutes we raised 13 trout, hooked nine, and landed seven between us. On the following two evenings Mike took trout on that wet fly at another location. He too is now a believer that old world patterns still work on modern day fish.

A bit of background

Wet flies are the oldest form of artificial fly, dated by centuries rather than decades, these patterns are used exclusively under the surface. Most wets are tied to resemble an immature form of aquatic insects in the phase when they move from the depths to the surface to hatch. A few patterns are said to replicate drowned adults rather than emergers, yet both are effective during various periods of a hatch.

Until the mid-1900s, almost all fly fishing in the U.S. was accomplished with wet flies. Peruse Ray Bergman’s 1938 hallmark angling publication “Trout,” to confirm the tradition and importance of wet-fly use throughout the world and its development in America. For example, almost every angler is familiar with the coachman wet fly, from which the lead wing and royal coachman were derived. It was created in the 1830s by Tom Bosworth, coachman for George IV, William IV and Queen Victoria of England. Your wet fly box should have each of these patterns in a couple of sizes.

Also in your selection should be a professor, created in the early 1800s by John Wilson, a professor at Edinburg University. A hare’s ear, a sombre pattern, created in 1831 in England and brought to America by settlers, produces more fish as it gets worn and tattered. An alder, blue dun, dark Cahill, ginger quill, March brown and a Montreal are essential to any compilation of wet flies.

I’ve always had tremendous luck with brightly colored wet flies, attractor patterns that don’t resemble any aquatic bug or terrestrial insect. On small, spring fed brooks during hot summer days, the Parmacheene Belle (circa 1878), Silver Doctor (1864) and trout fin (1849) are deadly producers day after day. Reliable, vividly hued, back-up wet flies include a grizzly king, gray hackle red, chappie and silver gray.

My special box of wet flies have seen action in Alaska, Hawaii and seven other states and three provinces. Like any other style of fly, there are occasions when wet flies won’t produce, but far more times when they will work and nothing else does. Not having a few wet flies is like not having a floating fly line, your inventory just isn’t adequate.

In a time when trout and salmon are becoming more selective, even familiar with certain styles and patterns of flies, perhaps the reintroduction of wet flies will boost your results. Wet flies are elegant to look at, simple to fish, and productive on all waterways at any time of the season. Add a bit of old angling tradition to your next outing, tie on a wet fly.

Outdoors feature writer Bill Graves can be reached via e-mail at bgravesoutdoors@ainop.com.