Telling Tails

Tailing trout are etched deep in Tasmanian fly-fishing lore. Dick Wigram (Trout And Fly In Tasmania: 1938) and David Scholes (Fly-fisher in Tasmania: 1961) had plenty to say about tailers under the descriptive headings ‘The Dawn Patrol’ (Wigram) and ‘Tails along the Shoreline’ (Scholes).

I went back to their early books to put my thoughts into perspective, as a reminder of the ‘old ways’. Surprisingly, I found myself adding little that they hadn’t said before. Scholes’ treatment of tailing trout, as with so many other aspects of fly fishing, could best be described as definitive.

Here is a quote from Scholes to set the scene: ‘…regardless of what food the trout seek in the shallows, there is something magical about the sight of a tail or fin, somewhat like the fascination of a rising fish, and followed by the same wondrous kind of excitement.’

TRUE TAILERS

We tend to generalise these days, putting any visible trout feeding in the shallows into the ‘tailing’ category. Scholes would have objected, and with good reason. To him, true tailers were snail feeders, heads down and tails up; then there were cruisers, shrimpers, wormers, tadpolers and so on, all worthy of separate treatment. Referring to shallow-water feeders according to diet and behaviour makes so much sense, as these are the aspects that determine fly selection, approach and degree of difficulty.

Floodwater feeders are generally on the prowl for anything and everything, hence the fly is less critical and any presentation, wet or dry, might do. Likewise frog and tadpole feeders can be aggressive, moving quickly to investigate any potential disturbance. Worm feeders in rising water will accept a range of wets in addition to chenille-style worm imitations (FL #49), though they can be tricky when water levels are receding and the worms long drowned.

In the next instalment (Part 2) I will deal with these behaviours separately in more detail, but for now I will lump those fastidious snail, amphipod (scud) and isopod (phreatoicid ‘shrimp’) feeders together as true tailers (see my article ‘Shrimps & Things’ in FL#35 for clarification), whereas the others are generally more opportunistic.

ONE EYED

True tailers tend to be ‘one eyed’ selective feeders, sneaking along through the weedy shallows, heads angled down, their tails and dorsal fins and backs occasionally breaking the surface or faintly stirring the water. When totally preoccupied and wearing their blinkers they can seem impossible to catch, and at times even difficult to spook, as they search for prey at close range, keyed in to some particular feature of movement, size, shape, colour, odour — who knows? — immune to other offerings and distractions.

As with all selective feeders, the fly has to be presented exactly, and repeatedly if necessary. These fish are most vulnerable at first and last light, and at other times when their menus are more diverse.

TAILING WATERS

Tailing trout are by no means confined to Tasmania, though so many of the Central Highlands lakes with their flooded grassland shores provide perfect tailing habitat. Adopted names like the Cowpaddock (Arthurs), Tailers Bay (Bronte), Surveyors Marsh (Echo) and the Cricket Pitch (Little Pine) are descriptive of good tailing water.

Look to recently inundated lake- shores and river backwaters, flooded tussock and grassland, swampy marshlands, shallow weedy flats and gently shelving shores, though sometimes snail feeders are also found on stony ground.

The best places and conditions are well documented and the spring months through into summer produce the most reliable action. The lowland rivers and lakes see tailers at least several weeks in advance of the highlands.

Tailing fish are most confident when lakes and rivers are rising, spilling into backwaters and covering new ground. In low light and dirty water, trout will even push into gutters, runnels and ponds well away from the main water body. Steady and even slowly receding water levels can still be acceptable in summer, although fast falling water generally discourages tailing.

Best time is dawn, with dusk second best, though in dull weather and during very cold spells tailing fish can be found throughout the day. Rain, wind and even sleet won’t deter them, but ice in the shallows will mean a slow start to the day.

FLIES & PRESENTATIONS

Scholes advocated three approaches depending on the diet and mood of the fish. Inert presentation using a ‘hoodwinker’ (Nymbeet). An ‘exciter’ drawn across the fish’s path (Black Matuka). And the last resort ‘throw-it-on-top-of-him’ wet fly method (Watson’s Fancy). Wigram adopted similar tactics, suggesting a wet fly that ‘may appeal to his appetite’, or one that provokes the trout’s ‘sense of tyranny’. He relied on a shrimp pattern and his famous Green Matuka to fulfill these roles.

The other method both recognised, of course, is to use a dry fly, though this works best when fish are ‘cruising’, ‘mooching’ or ‘prowling’ and when diet is more general — in rising water for example, when all sorts of drowned and floating grubs, bugs and spiders are on the menu. True tailers will ignore a dry fly more often than not. Your best chance, if you are quick and accurate, is to make sure the fish sees or senses the dry as it lands with a deliberate bump.

THESE DAYS

Nothing much has changed in our approach to tailing fish, though our flies of choice are a little different these days. I still have faith in the Fiery Brown Beetle and Fur Fly variants to deal with tailers. Tied properly, these are slow sinkers with plenty of inherent buoyancy, and designed to settle slowly and to rest rather than drag or bury. Rabbit fur and seals fur are two of the most ‘airy’, mobile and lifelike materials, irrespective of the fly being moved.

Woolly Worm and Woolly Bugger variants are also well suited to the job, relying on body hackles and marabou to provide posture and movement. But those tempted by more realistic scud and snail imitations have to be careful that appearance doesn’t override function. A perfect imitation lying on its side or lost in the weed is not much help.

The main deterrent to moving the fly in shallow water is getting caught up in weed and rubbish. Brett Wolf’s Snail Thong (FL#14) and Craig Rist’s derivative Emerging Woolly Bugger (FL#61) minimise this problem by staying afloat at the head and keeping the fly out of trouble. My father experimented with a foam-headed nymph he called the Damp, and family friend Brian Viney used a neoprene-headed tadpole. All this might seem new and innovative, but Wigram (1938) stakes a much earlier claim: ‘Eventually I hit on the idea of dressing the fly with cork in the body so that it would be buoyant and inclined to rise to the top… the buoyant shrimp.’

TIMING THE STRIKE

Perhaps ‘strike’ is overdoing it. Let’s say lifting the rod or tightening on the fish. Regardless, timing is everything. The dry fly or the ‘floating’ wet flies mentioned above offer the added advantage of a conspicuous surface take to seal the deal, but if like me you prefer a conventional ‘hoodwinker’, fished more or less inert, you’re going to have to know when to set the hook.

You know the trout is there, you know your fly is in the right place, you sense the fish has seen the fly and moved on it, the water stirs, you lift the rod and set the hook decisively. Easy! Though perhaps a long apprenticeship of early mornings at Little Pine Lagoon and truant days in the Western Lakes does help.

Keeping everything floating to within about 40 centimetres of the fly is a good idea. Often you will see the leader move, but not always. The modern answer, of course, is to use an indicator: a pinch of wool or perhaps a small dry fly dropper. No doubt if the fish takes your hoodwinker well, you’ll see the indicator move. But so often it’s too late. The fish can mouth the fly and reject it without moving forward.

Dick Wigram is nodding in agreement: ‘The brownie is very cunning. He may appear to follow, when he really has the fly in his mouth. If the strike or tighten is not made at the right moment, he will open his mouth and allow the fly to be drawn away without the angler even knowing he has it.’ And Scholes questioned the wisdom of anglers tempted to use two flies (a dry with a wet fly dropper) in the sticks, tussocks and weeds of early morning: ‘…unless the shore is reasonably free of obstructions, they’re sure to lose a lot of flies and trout.’

TAILING TIPS

Wear dull clothing and warm, dry and flexible waders.

Don’t fish too light. Use 5/6-weight rods, 5/6 lb tippets and avoid long leaders in the sticks and tussocks.

Match the fly to the conditions and to the behaviour of the trout (more details next issue).

Fish with your eyes, and resist casting blind.

Skirt around the margins rather than barging along the shore.

Tread lightly. Wade like a heron. Sneak, crouch, crawl, squat.

Be patient and wait for the fish to show itself before casting.

Keep casts short and precise. Presentations can be more aggressive in low light and rising or dirty water.

Be assertive when setting the hook. If the fish moves to the fly and shuffles, swirls, bulges, stops, winks, turns or twirls, set the hook!

If the trout fails to respond, only recast when you are sure it is well clear of the line.

Respect other anglers and leave them plenty of water.

So, relying on strike indicators is problematic. You don’t need distractions, you have to focus intently on fish and fly, and read every available imprint of weed and water movement. If you don’t trust your eyes or if you lack confidence in the fly, any hesitation while waiting for indicator movement, or any tentative drawing of the line to ‘feel’ for the take, is likely to result in a lot of near misses.

TAKE CARE

While it is tempting to rush in and fire a cast in the general direction of a tail or disturbance, it pays to take just enough time to determine the trout’s path and rate of travel. Otherwise you’ll have the fly in the water and spook the fish, or get caught in the weeds before the fish has seen the fly. So often this is one chance fishing, with the first cast carrying with it the greatest likelihood of success.

Trout often work a beat, rewarding patience if you are prepared to sit it out, literally, usually crouching or kneeling in the shallows waiting for the fish to return.

Direction of feeding can be determined by the orientation and movement of the tail, back or dorsal, and by any subsequent surface bumps, swirls and twirls the fish leaves in its wake. These signs can be subtle, more so in wind-ruffled water.

Again, spotting fish in marginal conditions is about concentration and systematic scanning in the direction of best visibility, then zeroing in on any anomaly in the overall surface pattern.

It’s important to stay well clear of the water, at least initially, and I don’t have to tell you to keep low when approaching a fish. Use available cover, stoop and squat as necessary, moving forward only when you know it is safe to do so — preferably when you are sure the fish is heading away and not towards you. By keeping back you can scan large areas of shore for signs of distant fish, then skirt round and sneak in where you’ve seen a likely disturbance.

Patience is a virtue. Resist barging along and prospecting if you want the full experience. And be mindful of other anglers. It’s not a race.

I will let David Scholes have the final say: ‘Sometimes these Scud-feed-ers may tail at your feet, whereas at other times they charge away terrified while the line is still airborne — there is no telling, but whatever their attitude they provide wonderful days.’

Rob Sloane’s instructional books Fly Fishing Fundamentals and The Truth About Trout Revisited are available at www.flylife.com.au