Hank’s Creation (2014)
We’d just finished having dinner at
one of the wide spots of the upper Brule River, known as Big Lake. Down stream a few fisherman in canoes had
positioned themselves to wait for the Hex hatch. While we had prepared dinner for our clients
we had decided that we’d wait above a place called the Rocks to see what would
develop for the evening bite. My guiding
partner at the time, Dave Spencer, and I parked our canoes side by side so our
clients could pass the time reminiscing.
They had been fishing partners, whose time on the Brule reached back
thirty years. I’d just started guiding
on the river in great part because Dave Spencer introduced me to it (that is a
story for another time).
Neither of us were particularly
chatty that evening, so we spent most of the time watching dusk come on in the
mirrored reflection on the surface of Big Lake.
“You ever see one of these?” Dave said dragging me out my own
thoughts. Seeing the fly in the palm of
his left hand, all I could think of was “bass bug and butt ugly.”
“What the hell is that?” I asked
sounding as though I was about to retch.
“I know,” he mumbled trying not to gain
the attention of our clients. “It’s
Hank’s Creation,” he continued in a near whisper and asked me if I had ever
heard of it before.
“No,” sounding like I was denying an
accusation of heresy.
“Can you tie it?”
“Why would I want to?”
“Because they work!” That’s all you need to hear from a guide
who’s teaching you the ropes to drive the bug (pun intended) right in, but
somewhere in the back of my mind I couldn’t help but feel that I was being
played. Dave gave me his example. I told him that I’d give it a shot.
After examining it in “the light of
day,” I realized I was looking at something incomprehensibly hideous. Hold up a
Hank’s to any of the traditional patterns that have been used on trout water
over the years and one can easily see that Old Henry should probably stay in
the tackle box until needed for bass and pike fishing. Bill Stieger, fly-fishing writer and bamboo
rod fanatic, described it as “more of
a shrunken head” than a fly.
As an art form, fly tying realizes
its highest expression of the art in salmon fly tying. Brian Van Erem, a competitive salmon fly tier,
from DePere, Wisconsin, was recently asked to tie a display quality version of
the Hank’s Creation complete with shadow box for the local fly shop in
Superior. The completed project was delivered,
beautifully tied (not easy to use beautiful and Hank’s Creation in the same
sentence), with a short note:
“Forgive me father for I have sinned.”
I examined the fly carefully to
understand its construction and to catalog the materials. I still couldn’t help
but wonder, “Who the hell was Hank?” “What else could you call it, but a “creation”!
and “Why me?” At the vise, when I
finally got around to begin recreating the Creation, I had visions of
Frankenstein’s monster with electrodes sparking it to life. “It’s alive! It’s alive!”
A good fishing friend from Florida,
Ken Malmberg recently asked for “the recipe” for the Hank’s Creation. Why he wants it, I can only guess. Morbid curiosity?
The following is the current materials list:
Mustad 33903 #2 or larger (if you can find them)
#2 (or larger) Slotted tapered cork, flat-faced, painted
silver with painted eyes on the flat face (black on a red background).
Deer hair for spinning.
Red kip tail.
Red buck tail.
White buck tail.
Mallard Flank feather (gray).
The original example given to me by Dave Spencer over 30
years ago was somewhat different than the current version of the “Henry.”
The original had a wood body, flat
faced, that tapered down the shank to the tail.
The kip tail was an original material tied in bushy, 1/3 the length of
the hook shank. Onto the body three
mallard flank feathers were tied in, centered on top, making sure they followed
the taper down the shank of the hook, extending slightly farther that the kip
tail. Then clumps of stacked white buck
tail were tied onto both sides of the body at about the same line as the eyes
making sure the tips extend slightly farther than the kip tail and mallard. The
remaining gap between the buck tail and the mallard feathers was covered with dyed
red goose wing feather making sure that the feather tips pointed down the
inside center line of the fly to the tail and extended as far down the fly to
the kip tail. All the materials tied
onto the cork combined should create a paintbrush look to the tail of the fly.
Twice a week from the beginning of
the season in May through to the Fourth of July, I guided for a local fly
angler, Ray Russell. The Brule River
had been his home river for more than 40 seasons. He was in his mid-70’s at the time and
retired from the two creameries the owned in town. During one of our weekly outings I asked him if
he had ever heard of the Hank’s Creation.
“Yes,” the distain in his voice was
obvious. “It’s one of those night
fishing bugs!” He said “night fishing”
as those he were trying to clear his throat of cat hair. His love of dry fly fishing was made fairly
obvious to me as well when he launched into a half-hour rebuke of all other
forms of fly-fishing, other than the regal dry fly. Night fishing in Ray’s opinion was especially
odious. “The dry fly is the only fair
way to take fish from this river. That
Hank’s Creation is nothing more than a Cal-Mac knock-off. Just a lousy popper used to catch bass! It’s a slippery slope when you start using
that type of artillery.” He made it
sound as though even touching one put you in the same category of loathsome
character that would use slack lime, dynamite, and gill nets as a means of
taking trout. “Nothing but meat
fishermen those night fishing characters!” I didn’t tell him that I was tying
them on the same vise that produced his beloved Rat-faced McDougals.
Hank’s ancestors originate from a storied corner
of bass fly angling history. In the
early 1900’s, wood bodied poppers were used to fly-fish for bass. Cal
McCarthy produced the famous Cal-Mac.
Introduced in 1910, the Cal-Mac was the forerunner of the commercial
popper. It’s flat face and forward
facing painted eyes with miniature broom tail with hair wings swept back over
the hook became its signature look.
Eventually, the South Bend Bait Company, South Bend, Indiana, commercially
produced a fly rod popper using the Cal-Mac design.
Vintage South Bend Cal-Mac Wood Fly
Rod Popper Red Painted Eyes
Hank Denney, a grocer in Brule, developed Hank’s Creation for
night fishing the Brule. The original
example I used was tied using a balsa wood body flat faced and bullet tapered
down the shank. On my first run of
Hank’s, I stuck to using the wood body.
Drilling them out and shaping them by hand was very time consuming not to mention fraught with peril. Using X-acto
knives and drilling small pieces of balsa wood can lead to small cuts and holes
in fingers. A poorly aimed drill bit
destroyed many nearly completed bodies.
Getting the straight shank to stay glued to the wood, even when using
chenille, as underlayment, and epoxy, made me appreciate the ingenuity of the
grocer from Brule, Wisconsin. One of my
first modifications to the original Hank’s was to use cork popper bodies and
specialized hooks, which eliminated the time consuming process of carving and
drilling the bodies.
A first, I questioned the whole
enterprise as more lure making than fly tying.
Now, more than 30 years later, I’m wondering why I ever leaned away from
truly calling it a “fly.” The materials
used in patterns across the spectrum of tying today have crossed over boundaries
that were nothing more than thinly veiled biases wrapped in the honorable
mantel of tradition. Last year I caught
a nice brown on a foam bodied, sulpher spinner that had not a lick of natural
materials.
Within a week, I reproduced the
Hank’s Creation and gave Dave his original back with a half dozen newly minted
friends. In a few weeks, the phone calls
started. River gossip is swift. The calls would begin something like
this:
“Hey, Steve.”
“Ya?”
“You ever hear of a fly called a
Hank’s Creation?”
“Sure.”
“Can you tie them?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll take dozen. ASAP!”
“How about six?”
“O.K. When can I get them?”
“Who am I talking to?”
“Hey, Steve. I heard from Wes that you were tying Hank’s
Creations. Could I get….”
“Somebody told me that your were….”
I hadn’t even wet one before I had
tied two dozen. In short order the same
anglers were asking for more. I felt as
though I were dealing heroin.
Tying just one Hank’s Creation is not very practical. Wood or cork popper patterns have to be tied
in steps. Painting the body, gluing the
body to the hook shank, filling in the hole in the wood or slot in the cork,
painting the slot and eyes, all require time between steps. For the modified version, using cork, spinning and clipping the deer hair body behind the cork was an added step. Adding some deer hair to the tail of
the fly served two proposes. The first
was to fill the space behind the cork body and the long shank length of the
Mustad 33903. This hook style is longer
than most cork bodies available. Deer
hair provided additional flotation when coated with Dave’s Flexament and helped
create a more pronounced paintbrush effect to the tail.
Spinning
the deer hair.
Painted bodies ready to be jointed to the spun deer hair and kip tail
Bodies glued in place ready for trimming.
Trimmed deer hair, slots filled, repainted, coated, eyes painted and ready for the over
wing.
Their durability became another issue when it became apparent
they were a “go to fly” for night fishing. We all accept that a good fly can fall apart
after a couple of fish. Especially those
delicate ties like quill-bodied dry flies.
A popper should last awhile. Hank’s
Creation attracts the attention of nocturnal feeding brown trout. The take of these fish can be very
aggressive. Trout do crush large prey
before they reposition them in their mouths to move them further down the food
chute. Teeth, especially the teeth in
large browns, tear a fly up when the fly is set in the lower jaw. On the first few runs of cork bodied Hank’s
the more aggressive browns would tear the cork off the shanks. I started using an epoxy that would penetrate
the slot and fill small spaces in and around the double humped shank
completely.
When the thread would cut and unravel, I started tying the wing
and buck tail onto the body by saturating the tying thread with super glue as
it was spun around (be sure to wear safety glass and latex gloves). Coating the body and the face of the fly with
a gloss coat lacquer gave durability to the paint as well.
The modified version also replaces the red turkey wing with red
buck tail. The red turkey wing would
split and tear off after one fish. The modified Hank’s could take a beating but still ends up showing battle scares and eventually goes the way of all flies “that work”: retirement.
Modified Hank’s Creation in the vise.
Battered
face of a veteran Hank’s
After many
toothy encounters, this veteran Hank’s shows his scars proudly, threads
intact.
Tom Heffernan, a long time friend and fishing partner of mine
uses a battle hardened veteran Hank’s whose Buck tail and mallard flank over
wing dressing has been reduced to a shredded mallard feather and a few sprigs
of bent buck tail with very little of the paint left on the body. He says it fishes well and in general, “Hank
fishes better after it he’s been beat up a bit.”
Hank’s Creation
works well in still flat water, slow moving calm water as well as swift
water. It cork body keeps it in or
barely under the surface. The design
utilizing the paintbrush tail puts, an undulating disturbance in the “V” wake
created by the flat face. Red and white
are great attracting colors. The silver
paint in the body might reflect a little light or give the fly a little silver
flash. The disturbance in the water is
the key to their effectiveness.
Hank’s Creation has been the source
of many fishing tales on the Brule River.
Until she passed away, Hester Holbrook, whose family has lived on the river
for over a century, reminded me that her “monster brown” was caught on “that
Hank’s you tied for me!”
One of best night fishers I have
ever had the pleasure of bringing down river lost a Hank’s Creation to an
enormous Rainbow in one of the big pools of the upper river. Jim Flathers had fished the Brule at night
for most of his adult life. He had
forgotten his night fly box with his Hank’s Creations tucked inside. He asked if he could borrow one of mine. After a few drifts, that rainbow took the fly
hard midway through its swing. It surged
back up stream then broke water in a cartwheeling jump. The fish broke the heavy leader as it drove
for the rocky bottom of the pool. Two nights later while out with a friend,
that same fish was caught and released, mangled fly still in its jaw. Jim apologized for losing the fly. A number of years after his passing, I
learned that he had never broke-off night fishing.
Note that in the photo this version of the Hank’s uses the
traditional turkey wing cover (what’s left of it). The buck tail replacement material in the newer versions provided
better coverage and was more durable. (Yes, it is “Jim’s” recovered fly)
Most Hank’s addicts refer to Hank
as a living entity. The late, Rick
Mosse, fellow guide and talented artist, insisted that Hank’s didn’t work
unless you verbally abused it with some colorful profanity.
Good friend and fellow night angler,
Mark Sullivan, won’t allow the light of day to shine on a Hank’s for fear of
losing its charm of summoning large brown out of the depths. One of the largest
browns I have ever witnessed Mark Sullivan hook and land happened on a single
cast into a small back eddy under over hanging cedars. The fish took the fly without a sound. Mark’s swift and sure set was the only
indication that he had a fish on. One
cast, one fish.
Late one July night nearly thirty
years ago, I guided a dentist from the Twin Cities down from Stones
Bridge. We had been having a fairly good
night catching about a half dozen browns, two of the browns pushed twenty
inches. Close to midnight and with the
moon starting to peek over the treetops to the east, I pushed Bill Berge down to
the last good spot of the night. The moonlight hadn’t touched a shallow spot just
off a little side chute in the river.
About a week before a client had moved a large fish it that spot. With moonlight already illuminating the other
side of the river, working that spot would be our last chance at a good fish. Holding the boat in the run opposite the side
chute, Bill cast his Hank’s into the darkness hoping to catch a seam between
the side chute and rocky shallows. After
about five casts, Bill was ready to head for the landing. I wasn’t hearing the Hank’s hit the water the
way I expected it and the way that the fly swung out from the chute told me he
wasn’t getting the cast in far enough.
Bill adjusted his cast by adding three feet of line. The fish blew up on the fly so hard you could
see the take through darkness. Bill,
always strong on his set, moved the canoe as he set a number of times, the
large brown thrashing in the shallows.
The line shot off the reel when the trout headed down the riffle into
the deeper water below. Bill reeled up
on the fish only to have it race down the full length of the deep pool and
clear the water in a jump that had hung time an NBA star would envy. The fish in the bright moonlight, the water
drops, silver pearls in the cool blue light still are etched very clearly in my
memory.
Bill Berge
“moonlighting” on the Brule
On the last day of the season, a number of years back, a long
time client of mine and I were closing in on midnight. The season would literally be over in a
little less than an hour. We had fished
the best water of the upper Brule and had fair evening of fishing. A few years earlier, Carl Nelson started a
new job after working many years for Honeywell in the Twin Cities so he hadn’t
been on the Brule for a few years. This was his big outing of the year!
My approach to guiding is that every trip could be the last
time this fisherman is on the Brule so give them the best trip that my efforts
can summon from the available conditions and time. I create memories.
His fatigue showed as we shared a cup of tea. I told him we were going to fish the run just
across the river from where we stood.
“We can skip it and head for the
car, I am beat.”
“We have a shot at a lake run brown
in this hole,” I urged trying not to be too pushy.
“That’s, O.K., Steve, we can it skip
for another time.”
Generally I don’t push when a fisher
wants to call it a night. Yet, I knew
this run was ready, it had to have a good fish in it, and I really wanted Carl
to hook a memorable fish. I just wasn’t
going to let Carl miss a chance at a big lake run ready to rock.
Reluctantly, Carl agreed and
promptly put his first back cast into the trees. It took us the work of a few minutes to get
old Henry out of the cedar behind us. I
checked my watch: 11:40. With his
reluctance newly restored, I had a hard time coaxing Carl out on the river for
another chance at the run. Three casts
later Carl was into one of the largest lake run browns I have ever landed for a
client. After we released the fish, Carl
sat back in the front seat looked at the bright stars and said, “That was
great!” After paddling fisherman for a number
years on the Brule you can read in the set of their shoulders and from how they
carry themselves in the front seat, how they may be feeling and what they may
be thinking. Carl is not a chatty
fisherman. The rest of the trip was
filled with the sounds of traveling the river at night. As I paddled us down river looking at the
moon lit pines and star frosted sky, I was guessing that Carl felt a little
less tired and his thoughts were on the fish he hooked, fought and landed, and
perhaps he felt he was reaching out into the night sky. I know I was.
Hephaestus, Greek god of metalworking, depicted as swarthy,
heavily bearded and hairy. The reaction
he received from his mother, Hera, at his birth, was to be thrown off of Mount
Olympus resulting in his being crippled.
I think we can take that to mean that she didn’t find him an attractive
child. His personal story is always one
of being at times marginalized and ridiculed for his looks but lauded for his
cleverness and thoughtfulness. I think
that if the Greek gods fashioned flies for trout fishing, Hephaestus would have
made something like a Hank’s Creation.
Not very appealing, but very clever.
All of what we do in fly fishing
distills down to a moment where an object, most of the time smaller than your
thumbnail, sparks the attention of a creature we have given so much energy. Even though our encounters with them are relatively
brief, the meaning we derive from these encounters can last a lifetime and can
be so personal and so affirming that we have trouble putting words to them. Hank’s Creation has turned many an evening of
sliding down a dark river, staring into the darkness hoping, into one filled with
illumination and wonder. My initial
rejection of Hank’s Creation has been replaced with admiration and respect. Hephaestus’ charm was in his thoughtfulness
of his creations and what they could do.
Over time Hank’s utilitarian value has helped mitigate his lack of
aesthetic appeal. After all, my
motivation in tying my first Hank was because “they work.” They work their way into our night fly boxes, and they work into our affection as well.
Keep a tight line and an open mind,
Steve Therrien