Hello again, fellow fishermen!

Although I said when I started writing this column that I wouldn’t make it just for elite fly fishermen, that didn’t mean that I would not occasionally geek out on you and go into the more esoteric aspects of fly fishing. I think I’ve been pretty good so far, so please indulge me.

Global warming is real, and it’s affecting how we fish in Maine. High water caused by more significant rain events, followed by periods of dry conditions, is becoming more and more of the norm. Except for those of us who only pound streamers or fish nymphs regardless, there is nothing better than casting to rising trout and salmon during a hatch. An example is Maine’s so-called “Green Drake” hatch that (to be scientific) is actually a hexagenia limbata mayfly hatch. These large mayflies hatch out in the evening on many northern (and some central) Maine ponds around the Fourth of July. Perhaps the most famous one is on Nesoudahunk Lake on the border of Baxter State Park. Before these bugs fly off, they sit on the water for a couple of minutes waiting for their wings to inflate, and they are easy targets for the trout. On an evening when there is an abundant hatch, they can bring up every fish in the lake – the biggest ones included. Water temperature affects how fast nymphs mature (think heating degree-days and your oil bill) and last year’s late spring and ice-out delayed many of the hatches. This can be really disappointing when you have scheduled a trip up state to fish a specific hatch – and it doesn’t happen, or you only see weak hatches. Fishing partner Gene McKenna and I were up on Pierce Pond a couple of years ago in early July and thought we had nailed the hex hatch – we did and we didn’t. As is sometimes the case with hatches, the fish had been feeding on something else and even though we saw literally hundreds of bugs come off that evening, nothing touched them. The fish had not gotten on the hatch yet. We had other plans for later in the week, so another one “so close yet so far.”

The moral of this is that we are going to need to expect more variation when we see hatches. Sometimes this may work to our advantage, but too often…

One other thing I’d like to mention. Most serious fly fishermen depend highly on “Hatch Guide for New England Streams” by Thomas Ames, available at L.L. Bean and most anywhere that sells books on fly fishing. I’ve encountered large mayflies at different times of the spring and summer in different parts of the state. A bunch of folks, if you ask them what a certain bug is that you see sometime in May, will say “March Brown” if it is dark, “Henrickson” if it is a lighter bug. While these can be good answers if that’s what’s hatching, often that’s not the case. It can affect what you tie on and how receptive the fish are to it. In a couple of cases, I saw bugs that folks were calling Hendricksons, but they sure didn’t resemble the pictures with their dun bodies and speckled wings – no hint of the pinkish tones associated with Hendricksons. Fishing partner Gene says that they are callibaetis or speckled duns, a bug that Tom Ames does not cover in his book. These are larger relatives of the blue wing olive mayflies many of us see on moving water, especially on the cloudy, drizzly days when these little guys tend to hatch out. Like BWOs, speckled duns tend to hatch two or three times during the summer, and tend to vary somewhat in size, so if you have been puzzled by a hatch (early or late) this could be what you have been seeing.

Another mayfly that has multiple hatches is the isonychia or leadwing coachman, but that discussion will have to wait until another column.

Time to at least check your gear – even go try it out.

Steve Heinz is an avid fisherman who lives in Cumberland and is Conservation Chair for Sebago Chapter of Trout Unlimited. Comments and questions are welcome at heinz@maine.rr.com.

A hexagenia mayfly waiting for its wings to inflate.