Renaissance Redneck: The eyes have it: Heggeli Spey Fly

By DAVID KITTREDGE
By David Kittredge

With these days as a lockdown is thrust upon us I try not to watch too much television news. Just 30 minutes a day, split between two 15-minute segments divided between morning and evening. Instead, I choose diversions to spend my time such as doing chores around the house or my go to hobby right now, tying flies. I have discovered a new master fly tyer by the name of Davey McPhail on YouTube and judging by his brogue accent I presume he is from Scotland, Northern Scotland at that, as I have denoted a slight Scandinavian accent that is sprinkled in among his Gaelic twang. Just listening to him orate as he shows us how to tie, is Cock-a-leekie soup that soothes my soul. Incidentally, Cock-a-leekie soup is merely a Scot’s version of chicken soup with leeks, as you might have guessed.

When I first became interested in tying flies for fishing, I was perusing a magazine rack in a local store when an edition of Fly Tier magazine snagged my attention with a photo of the “Montreal” wet fly on the front cover. The combination of red silk floss and gold tinsel banded body, red beard and tail, and mottled chocolate brown wing is a lure that would double nicely as a Christmas decoration. As I leafed through the publication ogling centerfold worthy beauties like the Jock Scott, the Lady Amherst and the Orange Parson, complete with recipes, I was hooked, and was immediately “jonesing” for the knowledge to craft these feathered sculptures. I knew so little about fly tying that I didn’t even realize this was not the place to start, but I dove in headlong like a giddy child who can barely dog paddle leaping into the deep end of the pool. I commenced to thrash about, buying the materials listed for the “Orange Parson” fly, gulping in my pride like I was quaffing pool water when asked by fly tiers in the local shops questions such as, “Have you ever tied flies before?” or “Why are you trying to tie a full wing salmon fly?” Unheeded, I eventually gathered the materials needed and continued my dog paddling ways until the lifeguard gently coaxed me into the shallow end, introduced me the wooly bugger, a relatively easy tie of a pattern that you can actually use to catch area fish.

But I admit, I have always had the hankering to tie the Lady Caroline — a svelte, sleek torpedo, originally tied with long Great Blue Heron feathers, that are illegal to even own anymore, and rightly so. Most feathers these days come from barnyard birds, chickens, ducks and turkeys or upland game birds such as the Ring-necked Pheasant and the Ruffed Grouse, otherwise known as a partridge in this neck of the woods. All of these fowl have fly tying feather material plus palatable meat, so there is no waste.

The other day while I was enjoying a Davy McPhail tutoring video, up popped a segment on tying the Heggeli Spey fly, an Atlantic salmon lure of Norwegian origin. McPhail explained that a body feather of the Ring-necked Pheasant could be used as a substitute for the outlawed Heron feather. The Heggeli Spey is even more beautiful than the Lady Caroline with the addition of a Golden Pheasant crest feather used as a tail and a long jungle cock nail as a cheek. Both flies have a beautiful aerodynamic or in this case, hydrodynamic shape with the wing set low. The flies are large, using a two-inch long salmon spey hook, designed to be fished in fast river water, hence the hydrodynamic design, which allows them to swim well, unlike my novice fly tying self.

Well, I have completed the tie of the Heggeli Spey fly with relative success. The wing should have been angled slightly higher, among other slight defects, but you can never tie the perfect fly, always striving to do better next time. Old Davey McPhail makes it look easy as he handles the materials with ultra-deft fingers, as I, the student, fumble along with much trepidation and angst. Fortunately, while solving the intricacies of tying flies, it takes my full concentration as I block out all the other problems of the real world.

Fly tying like most any hobby where you create using your hands can be very gratifying although at times exasperating when first attempted or if you push yourself into a new and slightly different direction involving the craft. I doubt that I will ever fish the Heggeli Atlantic Salmon fly, but I now own one for display.