When I began to flyfish for trout in earnest some 40 years ago, I was living in Virginia. At that time, most anglers were fishing the dry fly, and the Catskill-style fly was the fly du jour. They were tied to imitate the emerged dun, sitting on the water’s surface, drying their wings, readying for flight.

I of course followed suit, and struggled with them for several years.  When cast, they frequently landed on their sides, rather than sitting upright. Their natural, subdued, imitative colors made them difficult to see unless they were in bright sunshine. But on the small mountain streams of Virginia, I had to contend with overhanging trees and shaded sections of water. Therefore, the flies drifted in and out of my vision, frequently leading to missed strikes.

Then, I bought my first parachute-style fly, the venerable parachute Adams. I immediately appreciated that the fly virtually always landed right side up! In addition, the white post was easily seen, even in the shade. And most importantly, my catch-rate increased significantly.

So, I pondered why parachute fly patterns are so much more effective. Is it simply that they lie flush on the water’s surface, giving the fish a clear view of what appears to be a bug’s body?  Whereas, if upright, a Catskill fly gives only a few indentations from the tail and leg-like hackles. Trout might wonder whether it is a bug or something else, not even edible, hardly worth a tentative rise?

When viewed from below, as a trout would see it, I think parachute patterns suggest further possibilities.

In addition to the full body lying flush on the surface, the horizontally tied hackle lies flush as well. Does it look like the unfolding wings of a crippled emerger? Or perhaps the flattened wings of a spent spinner? Only the trout know for certain, and unfortunately, I don’t speak troutese!

So back to the question at hand, “why are parachute fly patterns so effective”; were I a hungry trout, do I go for what might be a bug, one about to take flight? Or, do I go for a bug-like fly, sitting in a manner that imitates all three phases of a “hatch”- dun, cripple or spent spinner, two of which are trapped in the film? I’d rise and grab the vulnerable, multi-phase, parachute fly. And in my experience, that’s what they do!

So tie one on and have a good New Year!

written by Al Simpson, 12/2024.

Related blogs-

• Parachute Flies- It’s All About the Post!
• The Parachute Adams; an Attractor Fly for Everyone