Carl Hansen was a fly angler from St. Petersburg, FL. He is known nationally as the inventor of the glass minnow pattern. Carl fished the saltwater flats near Tampa Bay, and had a unique approach. Envision a Tampa Bay fly fishing club outing. O dark thirty, and about 50 guys with the latest incarnation of graphite rods, Abel reels galore, and flats boats warming up at the launch ramp. Everyone up the night before tying the latest trendy fly patterns. Madness and mayhem as everyone headed out to be the first one on "big snook flat" or wherever they thought they needed to go given the tide, temperature, barometer, season, and latest guide reports.
Carl would sit there at the picnic area, wait for the sun to come up so he could tie up a few bend back glass minnows. Aluminum foil, mono overwrap for the bodies, a bit of bucktail, and red thread for the heads. No cement, a cheap vise that probably came from Herters in 1955, and I think he did own one pair of sewing scissors. He would then string up a 7 foot cane rod (a three weight, no less) with a reel that I believe was made in 1917- the year may not be right but it was given to him as a kid and he was about 80 years old when I knew him.
He would then wade out in front of the picnic tables up to his knees, and no deeper. He would then cast back to shore. Although he could cast like no one else, most of his casts might be 30 feet. Each cast would last a couple minutes and he would move the fly continuously in little twitches or with a hand twist retrieve. In 2 or 3 hours he might move 30 feet. About noon, all the young guns would come flying back to the launch ramp for the picnic, and you know how this ends. Carl would have caught more fish than the rest of the club combined. His explanation was simple: his fly was in the water, and the glass minnow moves exactly like a real baitfish. Predators move, so most of the snook, seatrout, and redfish in Tampa Bay would pass by him at some point in the morning, and would encounter a fly that looked and moved naturally that was actually in the water when they cruised by.
Carl was an amazing guy- he and his wife Esther had a casting clinic that met once a week at their house for over 30 years, and historians will correct me that its tenure may have been much longer. He did get some recognition of his skills, and was often asked to tie flies at Florida heritage festivals. He could put a fly in a teacup at 30 feet every time you asked him to do it. No BS, every time, and none of this false casting to get the distance right. And this was not hyperbole. The club had casting contests, one of which was a teacup at 30 feet. I saw it. He fished until the very end of his life, and when the end came he went out like the man he was. He told his family and friends that he did not want a funeral. He said that anyone who gave a damn about him should take a child fishing.
The glass minnow:
Use a pliers to bend a hook bendback style. Most people bend it too far. Don't.
Wrap a bit of foil around the hook shank below the bend.
Take a piece of 8 to 12 lb. mono, and wrap it over itself using a snell knot. It takes some practice, but you will end up with shiny foil body protected by mono wraps.
Tie in a sparse bucktail wing. I think that white over greenish blue was Carl's favorite, but he also felt that any color would work. It has to be sparse. Carl would have corrected my wing as resembling a feather duster.
That is it.
Fish the fly over any seagrass bed, bottom discontinuity, or structure. Move it slowly so it crawls along through the water column just above the grass. Expect the unexpected.
Carl would sit there at the picnic area, wait for the sun to come up so he could tie up a few bend back glass minnows. Aluminum foil, mono overwrap for the bodies, a bit of bucktail, and red thread for the heads. No cement, a cheap vise that probably came from Herters in 1955, and I think he did own one pair of sewing scissors. He would then string up a 7 foot cane rod (a three weight, no less) with a reel that I believe was made in 1917- the year may not be right but it was given to him as a kid and he was about 80 years old when I knew him.
He would then wade out in front of the picnic tables up to his knees, and no deeper. He would then cast back to shore. Although he could cast like no one else, most of his casts might be 30 feet. Each cast would last a couple minutes and he would move the fly continuously in little twitches or with a hand twist retrieve. In 2 or 3 hours he might move 30 feet. About noon, all the young guns would come flying back to the launch ramp for the picnic, and you know how this ends. Carl would have caught more fish than the rest of the club combined. His explanation was simple: his fly was in the water, and the glass minnow moves exactly like a real baitfish. Predators move, so most of the snook, seatrout, and redfish in Tampa Bay would pass by him at some point in the morning, and would encounter a fly that looked and moved naturally that was actually in the water when they cruised by.
Carl was an amazing guy- he and his wife Esther had a casting clinic that met once a week at their house for over 30 years, and historians will correct me that its tenure may have been much longer. He did get some recognition of his skills, and was often asked to tie flies at Florida heritage festivals. He could put a fly in a teacup at 30 feet every time you asked him to do it. No BS, every time, and none of this false casting to get the distance right. And this was not hyperbole. The club had casting contests, one of which was a teacup at 30 feet. I saw it. He fished until the very end of his life, and when the end came he went out like the man he was. He told his family and friends that he did not want a funeral. He said that anyone who gave a damn about him should take a child fishing.
The glass minnow:
Use a pliers to bend a hook bendback style. Most people bend it too far. Don't.
Wrap a bit of foil around the hook shank below the bend.
Take a piece of 8 to 12 lb. mono, and wrap it over itself using a snell knot. It takes some practice, but you will end up with shiny foil body protected by mono wraps.
Tie in a sparse bucktail wing. I think that white over greenish blue was Carl's favorite, but he also felt that any color would work. It has to be sparse. Carl would have corrected my wing as resembling a feather duster.
That is it.
Fish the fly over any seagrass bed, bottom discontinuity, or structure. Move it slowly so it crawls along through the water column just above the grass. Expect the unexpected.
I used to go to Bill Jackson's and have Carl teach and tie me a few bendbacks. You'd get a few more if you brought along your girlfriend/wife. I still have quite a few of his originals in shadowboxes. I loved his minimalist style and still only use short, straight mono leaders (just like he told me) much to the chagrin of my ff knot snob friends. Greatest influence on my fishing after my father.
ReplyDeleteEd M. (Clearwater, now Ormond Beach)
I used to fish with Carl as a teenager in the 70's, learned to tie fly's sitting at his kitchen table when I was 13 and learned to cast in his front yard. I joined the USAF in 1980 and left the area. In the 70's Carl had people coming to him from around the USA to learn to tie fly's that they could use in places ranging from streams in Yellowstone to catching Bonefish on the flats in the Keys. As I sit here watching these yahoo "pro-fishermen" on WFN flailing the water with their high dollar fly rods I remember Carl chastising me for moving my arm too much or the time I showed up with an 8' rod and Carl showed me why you never needed all that rod. In those days we used to catch more Tarpon in Cross Bayou than they catch these days under the Skyway. A lot has changed in the area, the Tarpon are not nearly as thick in Cross Bayou anymore because of all the blocked tributaries and concreted creeks with spillways but everytime I drive through Pinellas Park on 82nd Ave I think of Carl who lived just a couple of blocks over.
ReplyDelete