Setting the Record
Straight
I see exact copies of my Klink and no
credit ever was given and the writer even changed the name totally. In the
past, I was furious but now I not even react anymore at all. I just ignore
it.
I like it when fly tiers are innovative and creative, but
this doesn't mean we should change the real stories behind our patterns. I
have experienced these changes with my own flies a lot. When l read
something about one of my patterns written by somebody else and put on the
Internet, I am often no longer able recognize my own flies anymore. This
has happened especially with the Klinkhåmer Special a lot. I also have seen
my Klink tied on straight-shank hooks, with tails, with different wings,
and abdomens larger than the thoraxes and the writer even proudly call it a
Klink. More often, however, I see exact copies of my Klink and no credit
ever was given and the writer even changed the name totally. In the past, I
was furious but now I not even react anymore at all. I just ignore it.
These changes create more misunderstandings, and for many years I have
received letters asking questions about this fly. I think the winning of
this contest is an excellent opportunity to correct a lot of
misunderstandings about the Klinkhåmer, I also will allow me to give you an
update about the pattern, and together we can celebrate its ALMOST 40th
birthday that will take place on 27th June next year!
My first Klinkhåmer Special landed in the surface film of
Norway’s mighty Glomma River on June 27, 1984. A lot has been happened to
this fly over the past four decades. During the last 30 years, I have read
a lot of stories about the Klinkhåmer; some were really good, but most
exhibited misunderstandings about my thoughts behind the fly. This is sad;
even when those authors gave me credit for the pattern, there were always a
lot of readers who didn't learn how to tie and fish the Klinkhåmer Special
properly. It hurts me when I see a good pattern described incorrectly. Some
stories about the Klinkhåmer described clever improvements and different
colour variations, but unless they affect the fly’s durability and
floatability, I don’t see them as real improvements. Good improvements only
will be proven by the number of catches with the improved or change flies.
Before I will take all the credit for the Klinkhåmer
Special, you should know that I wasn’t the only one who struck on the idea
of designing surface-hanging, parachute-style flies. Unknown to me at that
time, Tomas Olsen, a famous Swedish fly tier, had created a similar pattern
just one year before I did. And in the United States, Roy Richardson
developed a similar emerger in 1986 without knowing about our flies. Mike
Monroe, also from the United States, tied a similar fly even four years
before any of our patterns existed; at a time, that we hardly knew what was
happening at the American fly-tying scene. Mike called his fly the
Paratilt, and he published an article about his new design in the summer of
1979. All these other tiers deserve as much credit for their creations as I
have gotten for my Klinkhåmer Special.
What’s In a Name?
The name of the Klinkhåmer Special is
often misspelled; I have no idea why.
The name of the Klinkhåmer Special is often misspelled; I
have no idea why. In Germany, they call it the Nordischer Hammer or Klinki.
In the United States, anglers seem to prefer calling it the Clinck. And I
often get questions about all kinds of Hammers, most I have never heard of:
Pinkhammers, Yellowhammers, Bluehammers, and many others.
Curiously, there is a large mountain in Sweden called the
Hammer close to where I used to fish, and some anglers said that the fly
hits the water like a sledgehammer. None of these things have anything to
do with the name of the fly. The original name for the fly was the L.T.
Caddis; it was just one fly from my large L.T. series of patterns that I
developed in Scandinavia between 1980 and 1990. Hans de Groot, Franklin
Moquette and Ton Lindhout changed it to the Klinkhåmer Special, probably
after some drinks, when they edited my first fishing stories that I wrote
for the Dutch Fly Fishing Magazine. I was fishing in the UK when they
edited my story during one of these great editorial staff meetings I
couldn’t join.
If you are tying a Klinkhåmer Special, you should know
the real thoughts behind my pattern. It was easy for me to find my totally
free and own way in fly tying because we had no fly fishing history in
Holland at all. It was Kenneth Boström’s fly called the Rackelhanen that
set me free from old tying traditions, my numerous fishing in Scandinavia
in combination of my new way of tying made me more innovative and allowed
me to think totally differently than most other fly tiers did. The
Rackelhanen is still very popular in Scandinavia, but worldwide this fly
has never got the attention it surely deserves. I have no idea how my
fly-fishing would look today without discovering the Rackelhanen, but that
wonderful sedge imitation gave me enormous confidence and inspiration to
start a completely new way of tying flies better known as parachute flies.
That happened in the early 1980s.
Although my first variations of the Rackelhanen did
extremely well, I wasn’t really satisfied with them. The reason was simple:
I didn't know Kenneth Boström at that time, and I made some essential
mistakes when tying his fly. My error prevented the pattern from floating
properly, and my copies did not always land correctly. I did some research
many years later and discovered the problem: I tied them with a single and
much longer wing so they sometimes floated incorrectly and lost most of
their effectiveness. I also used too much floatant and in a wrong way. Fish
rose to my flies like crazy, but I missed too many takes; I probably landed
only three out of 10 fish. I only got into my problem when I had lost all
Rackehanen given to me and tied my own copies. To solve the problem, I
added a hackle around the wing as I had seen in a book written by Eric
Leiser in his chapter about Parachute flies. That’s how my first parachute
pattern was developed and created. After this improvement, the fly floated
as I wanted, but this wasn’t the only reason why I stayed with parachutes;
around this time, I also discovered that flies that floated deep in the
surface produced more fish than patterns that drifted high on the surface.
Learning From the
Fish
The iceberg shape of the fly solved the
problem ……
The Lady of the Stream—the grayling—brought another problem
to my attention. At that time, I still used hackle-collared flies a lot,
and I tied many with nice strong tails and solid hackles. I liked the way
they floated on the surface, and I could see them very well. I loved seeing
grayling come up for them, but then, one day, I noticed that aggressively
striking fish often pushed the flies up and to the side.
Today I know a lot more about grayling. Most of the time
these fish feed on the bottom; their mouths are built for it. This is the
reason I missed so many grayling using my collar-hackled dry flies.
Grayling can rise at very high speeds to take flies from the surface, but
because of her protruding upper lips, they are perfect bottom feeders.
Those lips are ideal for picking up snails and larvae from the bottom, but
grayling have found a beautiful way of rising to floating and emerging
insects; sometimes they even jump out of the water and take their prey from
above. I have seen this hundreds of times. But I believe that it is a
combination of the shape of the mouth, the speed of the rise, and way of
taking the fly that causes a grayling to push away a regular floating
pattern. That’s probably also why very light dressing often works a lot
better for Grayling too. A parachute-style dry fly reduces this problem,
and an emerger that hangs deep in the surface works even better. I proved
this theory many times after I had designed my Klinkhåmer Special. The
iceberg shape of the fly solved the problem, and I solidly hook eight or
even 10 out of 10 fish, mostly in their upper lips; typically, I hardly
miss a fish with my Klink.
When we tie imitations of insects, only a few points seem
important. We consider the size, shape, colour, and mobility of the
naturals, and replicate these in our patterns. But I think there are more
points of interest, and I search for them every day. For example, in the
1990s I started thinking differently about fly design, and today I teach my
fly-tying students to consider the silhouette a fly produces instead
looking at the shape.
Tying Problems and
Misunderstandings
We are now coming to the main reason for this little update.
I have seen too many mistakes in other articles about the Klinkhåmer
Special, and I want to clarify how to tie this pattern. Not everyone will
accept my explanations, but I will try to show why I still use the same
materials as I did 40 years ago, and why I prefer them above all the
others. I have tried to make dozens of improvements, but only a handful of
material changes was able to improve the original design.
The Hackle
A proper parachute hackle also requires more than just two
or three wraps. Use a long feather so you can make a lot of wraps.
Depending upon the size of the fly, you might make seven, eight, and even
more wraps. Placing a fly in a dish of water will tell you if you are doing
it correctly. Even after tying thousands of parachute flies, I still use a
dish of water because I want to see the results and how long my flies will
remain afloat.
And finally, use oversized hackle for your parachute dry
flies now and then. I have tied a lot of Klinkhåmers with what seemed like
oversized hackles, and I can assure you that they worked well. I don’t know
why they work so well, but when compared to other parachute patterns, mine
always seem a lot larger.
The Wing
When I started using the Klinkhåmer Special, the visible
wing created an unbelievable benefit for catching grayling that suck the
flies from the surface without leaving a trace. The same happened with
Atlantic salmon, and some trout and char. As soon the big white wing
disappeared, I knew a fish took the fly. I landed hundreds of fish this
way. The fish I call suckers.
The wing must be lighter than water, not slippery, and allow
you to pull the hackle wraps far into the material. When you tie a lot of
parachute flies, you will quickly notice that the wing, hackle, and tying
thread must cooperate in perfect harmony. If the thread or hackle slips off
the wing easily, the parachute won’t last long. The biggest mistake people
make when copying the Klinkhåmer Special is not using the correct yarn for
the wing. I have seen huge Klinkhåmers tied using wing material that sinks
almost directly to the bottom. If you use big hooks like me, you can’t
float the fly when the wing and dubbing aren’t lighter than water, and when
not using a good floatant.
I have seen wings of various lengths. Most examples in the
articles had rather short wings, but I work the other way around. A wing
that turns out to be too long can be easily shortened, so I tie longer
wings.
Poorly Floating
Klinkhåmers
Some people will discover problems in keeping their
Klinkhåmers floating. The main reason is because the original polypropylene
yarn absorbs water. Polypropylene yarn is indeed much lighter than water,
but after it absorbs moisture, the hook easily pulls the fly down. When
fishing, always apply floatant to your polypropylene wings to keep the
flies afloat, and also apply floatant to the hackles of your slim and
normal-sized Klinkhåmers. One word of caution: Do not use floatant on the
bodies (especially on small sizes) because it can prevent them from
breaking through the surface of the water. This is extremely important to
the success of this unique pattern.
The Body Material
I usually use two kinds of dubbing material for my parachute
dry flies. For normal and large flies, I have found nothing better than
extra-fine Fly Rite Poly Dubbing and Kapok sold by Semperfli. The solid and
perfect mixtures of blended colours from Fly Rite will help you imitate any
insect body on the globe. With Kapok you can blend your own colours as
well, and the material is lighter than water so you can easily use heavier
hooks.
Just a few months after tying the first Klinkhåmer Special,
I discovered that a peacock herl thorax makes the fly a lot more effective.
Proven it by got much more caches. At first the herl seemed very fragile,
but I found a good solution to improve its durability. Some people twist
the peacock before winding, and this increases the durability. I prefer
pressing a drop of thin varnish into the base of the wing to secure the
yarn, thread, and thorax at the same time when I finish the fly. A mixture
of cellulose lacquer diluted with acetate (a 50/50 mixture) is perfect for
making the most durable fly. The best substitute for natural peacock is
Semperfli’s black Straggle string.
Hooks
I know everybody has his own preference for hooks; mine is a
hook with a wide gap and fine wire. My first Klinkhåmer Special was tied on
the Partridge K2b, better known as the Yorkshire Caddis Hook, and at that
time it was available in a much finer wire. However, when Partridge changed
that hook—they started using heavier wire and added a turned-up eye—I
changed hooks. I wanted straight-eye hooks, especially when tying
parachutes. I also wanted fine-wire hooks. I wasn’t able to find the hooks
that I needed, so I designed what was called the Partridge Klinkhåmer
GRS15ST, later renamed and redesigned as the 15BN and 15BNX. Sadly, the
15BN and 15BNX were also changed quite a bit from the original shape and
wire.
I eventually worked with Anglers Sport Group, who
distributes Daiichi hooks. When we set up our new partnership, we agree
that the Daiichi Klinkhåmer hooks would follow my exact design from the
1980’s. In amazing short order, the first prototypes of the new Klinkhåmer
hook passed all my field tests and were an exact copy of the original
design from the 1980’s. They are on the market in sizes 20 to 8 in two
versions: bronze (Daiichi 1160) and nickel (Daiichi 1167). The new hook is
most suitable for tying Klinkhåmers, emergers, and special nymph patterns.
Many companies have copied this exact size again and also made them
barbless.
Spiderweb Thread
and the Tie-off Technique
The greatest problem with my first parachute flies was that
I was not satisfied with the durability of the hackles. Although I fished
intensively for grayling, I hooked trout. Those trout often destroyed the
parachutes, and from that moment my interest in making more durable
parachute hackles became my highest priority. It took me a whole winter
season to find a technique that protected the hackle against sharp teeth.
First, Danville’s Spider Web is the best thread for securing
and tying off the parachute. I use Spider Web to prevent trout teeth from
damaging the hackle quill or thread windings.
I looked for an easier way to tie off a parachute hackle.
Most people tie off the hackle at the eye of the hook. Using this method,
you have to first pull away the hackle fibres, which makes tying off the
feather more difficult. I also tried adding extra windings through the
thorax before securing the hackle; this makes the hackle more durable, but
it makes tying the fly more complicated.
My idea for using Danville's Spider Web to secure the hackle
is probably new. This method makes winding a parachute a simple operation
while forming an effective, durable fly without damaging any of the hackle
fibres; you’ll never get the same results using regular threads.
After 40 years, I still tie the Klinkhåmer Special. I have
used this pattern around the world with great success. I am pleased to show
you the correct way for making this terrific pattern.
Hans van Klinken
February 2023
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