Bug man holds entomology clinic for Kennebec anglers

Saturday, June 18, 2005

If you were floating the Kennebec River from Solon to North Anson last Saturday, June 11, and some folks were doing just that, you might have noticed a strange sight.

A dozen, grown men in waders stood in the somewhat heavy current, but none of them had fishing rods or vests. The small group circled a man who resembled a college professor from an Ivy League college, and the listeners looked ever so attentive to his every word.

The dapper-looking gentleman was Tom Ames, the author of "Hatch Guide for New England Streams" (Frank Amato Publications, Inc.,Portland,OR), and he was conducting a seminar on aquatic-entomology in salmonid habitat. Each member of the party cared enough about learning this discipline to spend $100 for a day on the water with the man. Bob Mallard, at Kennebec River Outfitters, in Madison, hosted the event, and participants were clearly excited about such a learning opportunity.

While Ames held a huge seining net that covered at least nine square feet, his audience pushed close with craning necks to scrutinize the contents in the mesh. At first glance, the wet screen showed nothing but half-rotted vegetation, gravel, mud and occasional twigs, but close observation quickly revealed wiggling movement here and there — insect larvae. The more the wiggling the happier the crowd. Some critters looked like colorful worms and others such as dragonfly, stonefly and mayfly nymphs resembled creatures from a sci-fi flick.

Ames would poke around the seine at each creature. He possesses an eye for intricate detail, a man meticulous to the core. Through intense study and practical experience, he has accumulated a vast amount of knowledge about aquatic entomology and passes it along to anyone willing to listen.

I teach seminars and use a sale's gimmick in my ads that works perfectly to describe Ames' seminar. In one day, Tom can get a novice three to five years into the science of matching the hatch and fly presentation.

Throughout the day, participants would stand upstream of Ames and kick their feet around the bottom, digging their toes into the substrate three or inches to stir up insects. The whole mess drifted into the waiting net.

At other times, we picked up rocks and water-soaked wood from the riverbed and scrutinized the underside of them.

Each submerged rock or stick sitting loosely on the bottom had larvae clinging to them.

When fly rodders can determine which insect is the most prevalent and active on any given day, they can then use that knowledge 1) to match the natural bug in size, color and silhouette and 2) to imitate how the insect moves. If streamside observation fails to enlighten us on the second part, we can find the info in Ames' book.

In short, uncased olive caddis larvae might be active and bouncing along the bottom. Fly rodders who establish this fact with a seining net can imitate the caddis worm in size and color and bounce it along the bottom a la natural.

Inevitably, if fly rodders come up with the right forage imitation and duplicate its movement, success is almost a guarantee, so anglers become the master of their fate rather than the other way around.

Not to belabor the point, but last Saturday, a cream caddis was emerging. However, when these little critters broke through the surface film, they flew off so quickly that even an astute observer could miss the bug. A few of the emerged insects were flying in the air, though, and my seining net managed to catch one swimming beneath the meniscus. The solution for catching fish became obvious. A cream Elk Hair Caddis in the right size and stripped beneath the surface did the trick.

William Clunie, an outdoors writer from Dixfield, took Bill Sheldon, an outdoors writer from Rhode Island, and me in his drift boat, a rubber raft with a rowing frame. William also guides on the Androscoggin and wanted to polish up on his entomology, which he felt would make him a better guide.

As the day began, Clunie lifted a rock that exposed a cluster of tadpole eggs, which quickly earned him the nickname "Tadpole Willy."

That's the way the day went with lots of joking and great camaraderie.

This was the second Ames' seminar that I have attended, and like the first one, Tom emphasized that he aimed his presentation at the correlation between insects and fly fishing. In a nutshell, identifying every species is not crucial for catching fish.

He explained that species identification often requires a microscope, making it a job for the laboratory, not streamside.

However, he pointed out that knowing Latin names for at least the genus might be important so fly rodders can ascertain whether the bug is — say a swimmer, crawler or clinger. With that knowledge, fly fishers have an idea of how to present the fly. They can either strip it through the water to imitate swimmers or drift it naturally at the same speed as the current to simulate a crawler or clinger that the current has lifted from the bottom.

Here is a crucial point that Ames makes: We can never assume that an insect species will be the same size and color from water to water because different habitat creates variations, which makes an important case for matching the hatch via eyesight with the size, color and silhouette routine.

Ames referred to Ephemerella subvaria (colloquially called "red quill" or "Hendrickson") as a perfect example. This species is so widespread and abundant that most fly rodders can identify it on sight, but E. subvaria on the Sheepscot looks different than the same species on the Kennebec.

In the evening, Sheldon, Clunie and I were working our way downriver to the take-out point and passed a man and his daughter, fishing from an anchored canoe.

The dad asked how our fishing had gone that day. I briefly explained that we had fished a little, but we were really part of an entomology seminar.

We heard the girl whisper something, and the man said, "My daughter wants to know why you're studyin' insects?"

"It helps us catch more fish," I said.

As we moved away, the father said to his daughter, "You see everything's always about fishing."

A thought surely on target in a state like Maine.

Ken Allen, of Belgrade Lakes, is a writer, editor and photographer. To reach him, send e-mail to KAllyn800@aol.com