April 2024

All experienced anglers have suffered serious fishing-related trauma.  The agony associated with the  dreaded skunk (aka being shut out and not catching any fish) and resulting bruised ego come to mind.  Or losing that favorite fly or lure to a nasty snag while the fish are biting like crazy but with no replacement in the fly or tackle box.  What to do?!?  Try this new, hot Band-Aid Jig Fly in an emergency…or any time you want to catch loads of fish. 

Jig flies have become all the rage in the angling community.  Basically, they are flies tied on a hook featuring a jig head. 

Jig flies are supremely versatile, able to cover the water column from top to bottom in a realistic, alluring fashion that fish just can’t seem to resist.  But the Band-Aid Jig Fly is in a class by itself.  It reminds me of the story of the eponymous Mop Fly dreamed up by famous angler Jim Estes of North Carolina for southeastern trout streams.  In the 1990s Estes walked into a Dollar General Store where he spied a chartreuse-green mop head with small spongy worm-like strands on the shelf.  He figured it looked like a fuzzy caterpillar that trout doted on in his favorite streams so snipped off one of the strands. He used it as the abdomen on a fly hook with a black chenille collar coupled with a small brass bead. 

The rest is history as trout after trout fell victim to his concoction, making it one of the most famous new flies of the 21st Century.  Mop Fly mania swept the country. The Band-Aid Jig Fly promises to be of the same class.  Here’s the creation story behind this amazing brand-new  innovation along with detailed instructions on how to tie it up.

Recently on one fine Spring Day in the Everglades, I was guiding two of my visiting college buddies Lance Miller and Joe Perez on a backcountry hiking trip in the Everglades.

Within a mile of the trailhead, we came to a hidden freshwater pond I had serendipitously stumbled onto on an earlier exploratory trip. Then I found it alive with fish busting the surface as they eagerly downed a meal.  I’d never seen anything like it in the more than 60 years I have been chasing the finned creatures, but unfortunately I had not thought to bring a fishing rod along.

Fortuitously, at the last minute before leaving home on this trip with my buddies I had grabbed a fishing rod just in case the fish were still hungry and we might be able to wet a line.  I had tied on an old-favorite, reliable lure, a curlytail plastic mounted on a small red jig head, a combo that imitates a small wriggling fish when retrieved. 

When we got to the pond, on the very first cast Lance made a hungry fish smacked the lure and nearly pulled the rod out of the his hands.  He hung on for dear life and finally hauled the truculent piscatorial prize in for a photo and quick release.  It was a feisty, chunky Oscar, a cichlid from South America that had been imported into the US in the 1950s as an aquarium fish, escaped into the canals of Miami, and has spread all over southern Florida. 

Next it was Joe’s turn.  The cast flew across the pond, and before Joe could crank the reel handle a couple of turns the lure disappeared in a giant vortex of water leaving Joe’s rod bending double.  After an epic battle that went back and forth as the fish dove for freedom under some overhanging branches, Joe muscled the finned demon to shore.

Five casts later, five more fish came to the net.  We were all ecstatic, laughing and prancing around like a bunch of teenagers, instead of the somber, serious, and wise septuagenarians that we are.  But then tragedy struck.  Joe slowed his retrieve a bit after a subsequent cast, and the lure sank deeper…right into a nasty snag of hidden submerged tree limbs. Lance and I chastised Joe severely, and I used every trick I knew to get the lure loose while simultaneously turning the sky blue with expletives.  It was the only lure I had brought with me.  I gave the line one last tremendous jerk, and voila’, the jig came flying back at me at supersonic speed.  Relying on my cat-like quickness, I ducked and avoided being impaled.  I was all grins as I walked over to pick up the jewel, but gasp when I saw that all that was left was the jig head hook—the curlytail was lost somewhere in the depths.

Lance and I fumed, toying with the idea of chucking Joe into the pond where a gator had recently been attracted by all the commotion. 

But cooler heads prevailed, mainly because Joe was stronger than us and much more pugnacious.  But now the issue was what to do!!  I started pawing around inside my daypack, hoping to find something to replace the curlytail.  Maybe I could cut some strips off an old yellow poncho I found buried in the bowels of the pack and tie them to the jig head to imitate a fleeing fish as they waved in the water when retrieved.  No, they were so thin they would likely tear off when a fish hit.  I kept digging and finally found the answer in my little red first aid kit—a band-aid tucked between the ibuprofen bottle and some little blue pills in a plastic bag.  I peeled away the outer wrapper of the band-aid, which was a monumental challenge for old fingers, and removed the sticky covering.  Next I shaped one end into a reasonable facsimile of a fish tail fin.  I then ran the hook through the cotton pad in the middle of the band-aid so it wouldn’t pull out when it was yanked into the lips of the unsuspecting fish. It wasn’t the most attractive of jig flies, but necessity has to be the mother of invention. It certainly beat nothing. Man was I in for a pleasant surprise!!

It was with great trepidation that I arched a cast with this new odd-looking jig fly on my line to the far side of the pond.  It landed right on target where the fish had been feeding with abandon minutes before Joe’s faux pas.  I paused to let the fly sink a bit so the band-aid tail would pulsate alluringly. Suddently the water erupted in a small geyser as a big Oscar pounced on it

After this test run, I cast and handed the rod to Lance and as soon as the Band-Aid Fly hit the water it was pounced on by another Oscar. Lance adroitly fought the tough cookie and worked it into the net, another victim of the enticing Band-Aid Jig Fly. 

Lance handed the rod to Joe and he was soon tusseling with another Oscar, successfully reeling it in without getting it snagged–much to our relief!

Joe’s catch would be the second of a dozen more fish that couldn’t resist the enticing Band-Aid Jig Fly. Needless to say, my buddies were smiling and celebrating as they took turns landing fish after scrappy fish.

Fast forward a few months.  On subsequent outings, the Band-Aid Jig Fly had proved irresistible to every species of fish in the Everglades, freshwater and saltwater.  Bass, snook, gar, tarpon, or redfish, it made no difference.  Now positive reports are streaming in from around Florida and beyond. Reportedly trout in Colorado and other Rocky Mountain States can’t get enough of the alluring Band-Aid Jig Fly.

Quickly the word has gotten out about the inimitable Band-Aid Jig Fly, whispered from angler-to-angler throughout the Everglades and far beyond.  As a consequence of my big mouth, I have come under intense pressure to reveal the recipe for this new creation and toyed with the idea of seeking a patent, thinking of the nice cushion it would create in my retirement funds as the money flowed in.  But I have decided as a gift to my fellow anglers I will share the bounty just as Jim Estes did with the Mop Fly and reveal the secret recipe for it as set forth below, accompanied by a step-by-step photo guide.  Just remember to take along extra band-aids on your next fishing trip as they may save the day, practice catch and release of those fish that are entranced by the Band-Aid Jig Fly, and leave no trace.  Oh, and don’t believe everything you read! Tight lines….

STEP–BY-STEP INSTRUCTIONS FOR CREATING THE BAND-AID JIG FLY

BAND-AID JIG FLY RECIPE

Hook:  Size 6-10 beadhead hook or 1/8 ounce or smaller jig head on Size 2 or smaller hook.

Hackle:  One end cut into strips and flared around the jig head.

Body:  Band-aid pad

Tail:  Other end of band-aid pinched together to form a paddle tail that will wriggle when fly is retrieved.