As somebody with only a few months of tenkara experience I’m hardly in a position to lecture anyone about how to do it. But it’s maybe worth recording my impressions of how things work with different types of flies. I fish most of the time with a Tenkara USA Rhodo at maximum extension (supposed to be ca. 320 cm but I haven’t directly measured mine), zooming it down only occasionally due to overhanging branches. I also own a Nissin Zerosum 400 cm 6:4 but have really only fished with it briefly once. And I have a Dragontail Tenkara 360 cm Shadowfire which I fished with for an entire day before stupidly breaking the tip on a cross-stream snag (replacement tip set is inexpensive, too lazy so far to order it). I found the 400 cm rod difficult to manage on the enclosed streams I mostly fish but don’t regret picking it up – I anticipate it’ll get plenty of use in lots of circumstances going forward. I want to pick up a 360 cm 7:3 Zerosum at some point. I thought the Shadowfire was a nice rod, particularly at the price point, and it let me access that little extra water compared to the Rhodo. I didn’t have any serious problems with overhang the day I fished it, and ultimately I think a 360 rod will be my mainstay. Right now, though, the Rhodo is the workhorse. So, fishing a 320 cm rod, usually with a number 3 line as long as the rod and a ~4 ft 5X tippet (my current favourite is Scientific Anglers), here’s my experience with various sets of flies:
Kebaris
When I took the plunge back into fishing and bought James and I our rods, the only flies I had on our first outing were three sets of three different kebaris from Tenkara USA (all the kinds they sell except the big’un) and a set of three flies that came from Chris Stewart with James’s kids’ starter kit. The latter were some red-bodied kebari I don’t know the name of, an Ishigaki Kebari, and a Utah killer bug. Not really knowing what I was doing, messing around in the crowds of a Saturday morning at Richmond Springs, I tied on an Amano Kebari and promptly caught three brook trout. So if nothing else, they were the herald to my return to fishing. But it didn’t go so well the next trip, at Little Paint Creek. Here, it felt like I could do nothing in most of the deep pools where the fish were holding. I did find one nice run away from the crowds, with trout feeding in the current, and hooked and lost one and landed another tiny brown trout with an Amano Kebari. But mostly the kebari, floating or twitching in the subsurface, got ignored. There wasn’t any technique involved in catching these first four fish. I just somehow got the kebari plunked into the current in front of them and they bit it. But then again, that’s turned out to be one of my main techniques. Virtually all of the fish I catch in shallow, moving water, I catch on the initial presentation or very shortly afterward. Partly that’s because creek chub often charge anything that hits the water, but it’s true also of brown trout in higher energy riffles and pool heads. The fly isn’t in the water long before it’s hit, if it’s going to get hit. Most of my casting into even moderate energy water consists of very short drifts and lots of repetition. This hasn’t really been a conscious development, it’s just been shaped by the fact that most of the strikes come as the fly enters the water, or during a brief dead drift afterward. So the rhythm is mostly cast, one second, two seconds, cast, repeat.
I think because they’re not really appropriate for deep, slow pools (I’m sure plenty of more skilled tenkara anglers would disagree), I gravitated away from kebaris. I only really used one (again, an Amano Kebari) as a workhorse late one day on STSNBN when we ran out of killer bugs. But, you know, I caught two brown trout on it. On that day I added a second type of cast to it, treating it more or less like a mini-bugger, casting and twitching a retrieve. I also experimented a bit with letting it dead drift and sink a bit, then twitching it up. I caught fish all three ways. My impression was that as a short cast/dead drift fly for the cyprinids, it worked fine but wasn’t quite as effective as killer bugs. Then again, it did catch fish in the slower parts of pools using a twitching retrieve (wish I’d known to try that at Little Paint). The two brown trout I caught were both feeding in the evening in shallow water, and both hit the kebari soon after it entered the water.
So, my impression is that kebaris are effective flies, and fairly versatile, but that any one thing they can do, something else seems to be able to do better. Killer bugs are better on short casts and dead drifts. Buggers are better on twitch retrieves. I’m sure I’ll turn out to be wrong, but that’s how it currently feels. I fish kebaris a fair bit most trips, but they are not go-to patterns.
Woolly Buggers
After my early experiences I was going to set off for a two night camping trip to Backbone in which I planned mainly to fish the Maquoketa River upstream from the confluence with Richmond Springs. Before going out, I ventured into the local outdoors shop for the first time. They have a pretty decent fly section, considering Iowa City isn’t really amongst trout waters. They sell Umpqua branded flies and I’ve been more than satisfied by their quality. The only downside is that while they have a full range of modern flies, they don’t seem to have restocked in ages and some popular patterns and sizes are long sold out (I cleaned them out of their #12 black woolly buggers). I don’t really know, but there might have been a wave of interest in fly fishing that crested a while ago. Still, having some kind of decent local supply is better than a kick to the head. I’d never even seen a woolly bugger, but the fishing and fly tying books I was acquiring all spoke of the pattern as a universal trout catcher (and universal multi-species catcher) so I figured it was a good starting point to start building a collection of western flies. I had breakthrough success on that trip, catching my first rainbows and discovering STSNBN, and so black woolly buggers became my go-to pattern for a while. From my current experience level, I would agree that a box with both olive and black woolly buggers has you covered on some basic level. Right now I feel like I can catch fish in all situations I’m familiar with, as long as I have one or the other.
There isn’t a lot of technique with woolly buggers and tenkara. Tenkara casting is for flies with almost no mass. Chucking weighted buggers around just involves waiting until they straighten the line out on the backcast, then tossing them wherever you want them to go. I drop the rod tip and do a fairly slow twitch retrieve most of the time. Often now I’ll let them sink on a dead drift before starting the retrieve. Trout don’t often strike woolly buggers as they enter the water. Many of the other species I catch (larger chub and especially centrarchids) will nail a bugger immediately, though, or shortly after the dead drift begins. Woolly buggers are renowned for their versatility, and at Bear Creek, where I just caught seven different species in one outing, it shows. Anything in the waters I fish that can hit them will hit them.
Killer Bugs
I had my great Killer Bug epiphany during my 180 fish day at STSNBN. I was literally catching fish as fast as I could cast. That said, that was the only day I’ve ever caught multiple trout with the pattern(s), when I caught three browns with a TenkaraBum Utah killer bug and a rainbow earlier in the day at Grannis on the same fly. I don’t think this is necessarily a reflection on the pattern, more my confidence in using it. In trouty situations I’ll currently almost always go to a woolly bugger first and foremost.
But nothing harvests cyprinids like killer bugs. It’s possible (and possibly understandable) to not get terribly excited over catching cyprinids. But on the margin of trout country, if you don’t enjoy cyprinids, you’re not going to enjoy the fishing much, because they attack the same flies as trout and they come with the territory in most streams. I don’t discriminate. The common shiners I could maybe do without – they’re small and they have issues with taking the flies deep which tweaks my conscience. But creek chub can be a lot of fun. I’ve often mistaken the larger ones for trout while they’re on the line, though I’m getting better at telling them apart (chub fight hard, but they tend not to turn and make runs as much as trout do and you don’t get the deep, willful tugs even a small trout will dish out).
My experience is that killer bugs work almost exclusively with the very short drifts described for kebaris above. I present them, wait, do a little dead drift, then immediately cast again. They are almost always taken as they enter the water or shortly afterward. If you let it go after that, only rarely will you get a strike.
I think the reason I don’t use these flies for trout is the same as for the kebaris: they’re useful mainly in water with some energy in it. And the marginal trout streams mostly feature the trout laying up in the deep stocking pools, with only limited faster holding water in between. Woolly buggers will work in most types of water, so I end up sticking to them.
Killer Bugger
I like the potency of killer bugs, and I like trying out the various experiments in blending them with other styles of fly. So I tied up a handful of killer buggers, badly (let’s not discuss the gruesome whip finish with too may turns of wire). A dark killer bug with a marabou tail, fished like a woolly bugger. I’m guilty of not having confidence in this pattern. And you have to have confidence to catch fish. I’ve tried them on several occasions, but half-heartedly. It’s kind of like Why fish something that’s similar to a woolly bugger when you could just fish a woolly bugger? But I do think there’s probably something to a killer bugger. I have caught fish on each occasion I’ve used them. I’m thinking of looking into the best kind of yarn for an olive version. I’ve fished them the same way I fish woolly buggers.
Squirmy Wormies
My recent trip to Bear Creek elevated the squirmy wormy on my list of options. When I ran out of olive woolly buggers, the trout went nuts for pink weighted squirmy wormies. I’d used them earlier in high turbid conditions and caught some fish, but nothing like the action I got recently. If only I’d thought to sink some deep when I lucked into that stocking day at Bear a month ago. Ah well. So the upside to this pattern is that trout seem to love it. The downside…other species aren’t really into it. Larger chub will hit it, but not at the rate they hit other patterns. Admittedly, I don’t have a lot of data to go on here. But if all I cared about was trout, or in a pool with multiple trout, this might be a go-to option. I’m certainly going to tie up a bunch more. They worked so well that I’ll probably switch back and forth to them when I want to work a pool for trout lying deep. I probably haven’t given the micro-chenille San Juan Worm an honest chance. But when I did fish it and the squirmy wormy in close succession, the squirmy wormy seemed to be much more effective. I have half a dozen San Juan Worms tied, but until some turn of events yields some kind of revelation, I doubt I’ll use them much.
I tied my second wave of squirmy wormies using a fair amount of weight, and it’s possible this was part of why they were so effective (the first bunch I caught some fish were unweighted, according to the recipe I was using). There wasn’t much technique. Just get them straight down to the bottom, then do a molasses slow rise and retrieve. They got hit a couple of times on the descent, but the most common strike came after a pause on the bottom, as I lifted them slowly up. The first one that went in had five trout competing for it, and I’m pretty sure I caught all of the competitors one after another in short order.
Nymphs
I haven’t spent a lot of time nymphing (and a bendy tenkara rod isn’t necessarily a great nymphing platform) but I’ve had success every time I’ve tied one on. I got a store bought selection of some of the standards: gold ribbed hare’s ear, pheasant tail, copper john, and beadhead prince. I’ve hooked brown trout with a GRHE and a copper john, though landed none of them. I’ve caught a brook trout on a copper john. I know it’s not really how you’re supposed to do it, but I’ve used nymphs mainly in deep slow pools when the trout are camped out at the bottom (maybe it’s inexperience, but in the marginal streams I’ve been fishing, I just don’t see trout holding in typical faster nymphing water; actually I don’t see much typical fast nymphing water, either). The technique that seems to work is to get them down to the bottom and, well, wait, with the occasional glacially slow brief rise and drop. The most difficult thing I’ve found is actually figuring out when the nymph is being sampled. You generally can’t feel it. So I used to kind of look quizzically at the whole strike indicator thing, but now I understand a bit more. I’ve found that the end of the level line makes a pretty good strike detector. If you watch it like a hawk you’ll see little twitches. Even though you can’t feel anything, if you just lift the rod there’s a good chance you’ll have set the hook. This is how I’ve hooked the handful of trout I’ve managed with nymphs. It’s not really all that hard, but you have to work on a kind of sixth sense or heightened awareness of the muted takes. I plan to explore the fuzzier brown/gray nymphs in a lot more detail, because both the GRHE and the pheasant tail work pretty much as well as a killer bug for cyprinids, so it would be possible to stick with them for long stretches. The one day I was trying this I only had two of each pattern and I lost them all. The only downside is that even I can tie a presentable killer bug, but the nymphs are works in progress and given the attrition rate on things bumped near the bottom, not cheap.
So nymphs are still in the learning stage, but I’m encouraged. Soft action tenkara rods are probably actually a good thing for the zen-style strike detection (I’m just not interested in systems to make strike detection easier, I like the direct connection between fly and angler), but not so much for setting the hook on the very subtle strikes. I bought James a Dragontail Tenkara Tatsu for his birthday. It’s a clunker as a tenkara rod – way too stiff and the heaviest rod I’ve held in my hand since resuming – but I keep meaning to give it a spin on a nymphing day, because its extra length and stiffness would lend themselves better to the technique.
Terrestrials
So everything I read about fishing midwestern spring creeks in the dog days of summer speaks highly of terrestrials. I’ve no reason to doubt that, but I’ve had absolutely no success with hoppers so far. Not that I’ve tried that much. But it doesn’t take a lot of watching a big hopper float merrily over trout with no reaction to dim one’s enthusiasm. Periodically when I get in a position where I know there are interested trout in a pool I’ll try something new, so that I’m putting the new pattern or style in a position to succeed with my limited skills. Hoppers just haven’t worked yet. Of course, I don’t find myself in open grassy pastureland much. I simply haven’t tried the beetles or ants yet.
Dry Flies
Back in the mists of time, I was exclusively a dry fly angler, catching arctic grayling hand over fist with the Royal Coachman. I didn’t know, and didn’t want to know, about other forms of fly fishing.
Things change. Now I almost exclusively fish subsurface. It’s not that I have anything against dry flies, it’s just that I don’t feel like I get much opportunity to use them. In my resumed career I’ve encountered exactly one significant hatch (that I could recognize, anyway), a blue-winged olive event on Little Paint Creek. It was sort of magical, but the trout weren’t exactly going nuts. I see sporadic rises on the streams I fish. I don’t know what’s getting eaten. I love catching fish on dries, but I think you’d have to really love it to commit to it on the marginal waters I call home. That’s not to say I haven’t had any success. When some planter rainbows were fairly steadily rising in a pool at Richmond Springs, I caught two on a size 14 Elk Hair Caddis. I think that’s basically it, though. Since then I’ve tried Blue Wing Olives (the only other pattern I had until recently) when I see decent isolated rises, but they’ve always been ignored. I recently tried to expand, as I think a lot of the rising might be for midges. So I now have some size 18 and 20 Griffith’s Gnats and some 16 and 18 Adams. And out of nostalgia I got some size 12 Royal Coachman as a searcher/attractor pattern. I really haven’t committed to trying it, though. Chucking buggers around doesn’t feel as aesthetically developed as casting dry flies, but I just can’t help but feel it’ll catch more fish. I want to be wrong, and I’m going to push ahead learning to tie classic dries and working toward fishing them more.
The other concern I have is just how suitable tenkara is for fishing dries. Yes, you can get lovely drag-free drifts. But you’re also in far closer quarters to the presentation than I’m used to from my western fly fishing days. Spooky trout are a fact of life on tiny Iowa streams. Subsurface fishing mitigates this to a degree. Fishing dries seems to exacerbate it. I want to be wrong, and I’ll keep at it.
That Which Doesn’t Work
One thing I’ve really come to believe since taking up tenkara is that there really is something to the presentation versus imitation thing. If you have confidence in a fly, you can catch fish with just about anything. Just about.
I tied the above Rick’s Caddis as part of working my way through Skip Morris’s classic “Fly Tying Made Clear And Simple” (I’ll start half-assedly reviewing books, including this, soon, but for now know that this is classic for a reason, gets my highest endorsement). It’s the very first fly you tie and consists of a hook, thread, and some dubbing. I don’t even know if there are green caddises in the streams I fish – based on results I suspect not. But boy howdy, I tried these out and it turns out you can’t catch fish with just absolutely anything. Not even a shiner was interested, nothing, nada. I’m hurting as a fly tier (note the svelte one, the portly one, the unruly loose dubbing) but I catch at least some fish with just about anything I plunk in the water. These look like killer bugs, just green and brown. Nope. Nobody’s buying. Again, I don’t think this has anything to do with the proven-effective pattern, I just don’t think the local fish recognize it as anything that might be food. Among the many things on the fishing list is getting some kind of grasp on stream ecology and what is actually present in the water I fish. Maybe that will help clear it up. The only other things I’ve tried without a shred of success are hoppers (definitely on me; they’re well thought of on Iowa streams) and chenille San Juan Worms (haven’t been given much of a chance, probably not going to get one given the potency of the squirmy wormies).