An Ode to Old Fly Reels

 

 

Old Hardy Perfects and Orvis reels.

There is something about old reels that captivates me. Perhaps it is a sense of history; fishing them in honor of a time when things were hand-made by people who were passionate about their work and craft. Something that is hard to come by today outside the cottage craft movement. Skilled makers with years of experience toiled over these winches so that we could enjoy our time on the river with the best product they could produce. The craftsmen even placed a stamp in many cases on the inner surfaces identifying the maker.

 

To me this adds a sense of being involved in history. Where did these reels come from? Who owned them before me? Where did they get fished? How many stories could they tell if they could only talk?

 

There is a certain aesthetic in my mind’s eye as to what a fly-reel should look like: a classic look if you will. Early Hardy reels from England, older Orvis CFOs, even the ubiquitous Pfluger Medalist carries a certain ‘rightness’ to it.

 

Somewhere along the line the design of fly reels underwent a shift led by the look of technology, and today many reels look as if they were a part that fell off of a rocket ship, or a hubcap from a Ford Fairlane. The ‘newness’ factor became the primary selling point, as well as the drag setting that allowed the user to tighten down the check mechanism to the point where the reel broke off fish. Anodized finishes now come in red, blue, pink, and every color out there so that we can match our clothing with the reel.

 

For me, being a player in the endless timeline from the beginnings of fly-fishing and bringing a continuance to these old reels compliments the fishing itself like a fine wine brings a meal together. There is a story behind the wine, and the reels as well.

 

The CFO in the picture was owned by Lloyd ‘Frosty’ Stevens who fished Wisconsin’s Oconto, Wolf, and Peshtigo rivers back in the day. Frosty was from Waukesha, WI. The 3 5/8 Hardy Perfect is a pre-WW2 model owned by famous angler Andre’ Puyons who owned the Creative Sports fly shop in Walnut Creek California. The 3 3/8 Perfect is a unique reel as it was a special order having the agate line guard up, and was attached to the top of the rod instead of the bottom. Fascinating! The monster in the picture is a 1917 check 4 ½ inch Perfect used to balance large bamboo two-handed salmon rods. It came full circle from one owner to another back to my friend and then to me. The old Orvis Madison was made by Pfluger as an Orvis version of the Medalist reel. It also belonged to Frosty Stevens.

 

The care that went into these reels by their owners speaks to the pride they had in owning such equipment, for back in the day if you had a Pfluger reel, you were someone who was discerning. If you owned a Hardy reel, you owned the best there was.

 

They were the best, and I would argue they still are. Any reel that has all metal parts and can survive 70-100 years of use speaks volumes to the timeless designs and the craftsmen who meticulously made them.

 

A simple comparison that can be used is to fine rifles. Modern black plastic stocked bolt actions with stainless actions are more weather proof and durable than old rifles, but there is an undeniable aesthetic to rich wood and fine bluing, hand fitting and checkering.

 

Some may call these old reels and sporting ephemera ‘collectables.’ I say use them. Museums are located behind locked doors. Let them breath and get wet and full of fishy smells. Let the old ratchets sing again.

 

Extra footage from The Lost World of Mr. Hardy

The folks at Trufflepig Films were kind enough to place some video and historic footage on the Vimeo page here : http://vimeo.com/channels/mrhardyextra

Here is a sample. Enjoy!


Salmon fishing on the River Test - The Lost World of Mr Hardy extra from Trufflepig Films on Vimeo.


The Lost World of Mr Hardy (trailer) from Trufflepig Films on Vimeo.

The Perfect Perfect

Any one who knows me knows that I am a huge fan of the reels made over the years by Hardy Brothers of Alnwick (pronounced Annick). The Marquis, the St. John, the Lightweight series, the St. George, the Bougle’ and others possessed a simple utility and art that was so perfectly merged. They were not fancy, the finish was hand leaded and tended to make them look like antiques after a few years of use, but they just lasted and lasted. They may require more maintenance than modern reels, but many old Hardy fly reels are now on their third or fourth owner, having given service for multiple generations of anglers. The designs Hardy produced were copied far and wide. For a while at the end of turn of the twentieth century, to perhaps the 1930s, most reels on the market were copies, adaptations, or were heavily influenced by the reels of Hardy Brothers.

The Hardy reels still stood out in the waning years of the British Empire period because they had a unique feel and sound. When one picked up a Hardy reel, a glance and a turn of the handle to engage the check or ratchet, and one knew he was holding a Hardy.

The most popular, most widely produced, most influential, and perhaps still the best gear and pawl reel ever designed came out at the end of the 19th century. Designed in 1888, and patented in 1891, the brainchild of Forster Hardy was christened ‘The Perfect Reel.”
It ran on a ball-bearing race, had an adjustable check mechanism with a unique sound, and the back-plate turned to allow one to apply finger pressure to increase the drag. The first Perfect reels were manufactured by hand out of brass.

The Perfect was continually modified and improved, and by 1912, the body material was changed to various alloys of aluminum. The reel was lightened, and a new check was introduced: the famous ‘1912 ratchet.’

It is this version of the Perfect that anglers and collectors consider the ‘Perfect’ Perfect. It has a sound and power to the check that was never before or since duplicated. In fact, 20/20 hindsight would wonder what led Hardy to abandon the 1912 lever adjusted spring and single pawl.

Around 2002, or 2003, Hardy, now House of Hardy, decided to hand make a limited production run of 250 reproductions of the 1912 perfect in 3 ¾, 4, and 4 ¼ inches wide. All would be the wide drum salmon model. 200 were sold in sets of three, one of each size, and encased in a leather box, while 25 each were available for purchase individually, 25 in right-hand wind, and 25 in left-hand wind. They featured the original check or ratchet and ivorine handle, but added a faceplate that had a spitfire finish. This finish originated during the war, when materials for finishing became difficult or impossible to obtain. Each reel was finished entirely by hand, and stamped as of old, with the maker’s initials.

1912 Repro set. I took this photo of an old edition of The Art of Angling Journal

I have always wanted a Hardy Perfect reel. I came close to purchasing one several times, only to balk at the price at auction. I missed the time when a wide-drum salmon was easily obtained for a couple of hundred dollars.

Now I am glad I waited all these years. If anticipation counts for anything, my years of Perfect lust led up to obtaining more or less unexpectedly, what I consider the ultimate Perfect. Meet the 4-inch, left-hand wind spitfire finish 1912 reproduction made by Charlie S. Norris, Hardy’s head reel maker. One of 25 made for individual sale.
I will be committing blasphemy and actually fishing with it. After all, life is too short not to use the good china!
However, one of my leather reel cases will always accompany it, on the river or off. The hand finish is too easily damaged. The maintanance will be akin to a silk line, with the stripping of the line, cleaning, and drying, but all that love and attention will be worth it when this thing gets wound up by a fish.
I can hear it now...

THE check

The Lost World of Mr. Hardy DVD Review

The Lost World of Mr. Hardy DVD

By Trufflepig Films.
Buy Here

Review by Erik F. Helm

“This is history!” Says the last Mr. Hardy emphatically, as he watches a film from 1939 showing the fly-casting of a rod he himself designed.

The Lost World of Mr. Hardy is at once both an historical documentary and a requiem. An elegy to a lost time when the craftsman took as much pride in their fine hand-crafted rods, reels, and lines, as the discerning anglers around the world did in their use; an elegy to the craftsmen and women themselves who, apprenticed at 13 or 14 years old, spent their entire lives dedicated to producing the world’s finest fishing tackle. That was Hardy Brothers of Alnwick, producers of the Perfect fly reel, the Palakona rod, the Smuggler, jewel-action bait reels for Zane Grey and tackle for kings and maharajas. A family of tackle makers who spanned the 19th and 20th century.

Subtle and reflective piano music accompany the slowly unfolding scenes. Period black and white films of sportsmen decked in country dress fishing for salmon are mixed nicely with scenes of nature; the sounds of a riffle trickling or the drops of falling water. Loops unfurl over the water as herons crouch and songbirds sing.

If one loves the traditions and history of fly-fishing as well as being familiar with, or even owning a piece or two of Hardy tackle, you may very much enjoy this film. If these conditions don’t apply, then you may enjoy the nostalgia for the first half-hour, and then simply pass out. This is a film about passion… the passion of fine tackle and its history at Hardy. If one has any sensitivity, it may bring a tear or two.

Several scenes of the historical footage are priceless. In one scene, one of the Hardy Brothers fishes a salmon river at full spate with a spey rod. After hooking several salmon, one gains new respect for the ghillie. It seems that in order not to over exert himself or get his lovely shoes muddy, Mr. Hardy would hand the rod to the young Ghillie, who would run off chasing the salmon down the river and out onto rock bars while the sport lit a cigar. The joy seemed to be in the hooking of the fish. The rest was a job for the plebs. The fact that these fish, which were up to 50 pounds were hooked and played on 8/0 Black Doctors might give us some food for thought.

Another scene showed and described the bombing of the famous London Pall Mall Hardy Bros. shop during the Blitz in WWII.

In several repeating scenes, we see auctions and large tackle sales where Hardy products of the past are featured, and prospective collectors finger tackle carefully, examining old reels and rods with jeweler’s glasses. Then we see the same tackle sold for unbelievable prices.

The film also displays the meticulous art of tying full-dress married wing salmon flies by hand and without a vise, and shows Ken Middlemist at work, the last of the Hardy fly tiers.

The stark reality of the late 19th century and early 20th century apprentice system becomes quite apparent in the film. Apprentice fly tiers would tie fly after fly on the same hook, have it critiqued, and then snip off all the fur and feathers and start again. For the first number of years, they were not allowed to complete a fly for sale. This sort of purgatory of learning also included several of the Hardy family who would constantly berate the workers, check their work, and if they found it wanting in any way, smash it to pieces in front of them. The worker would then not be paid for his work. No bangers and mash for you this week!

The funny thing about this system, which was no different than other industries at the time, was that the workers were very dedicated to Hardy’s, and all those years spent meticulously learning their trade paid off in the quality of goods they produced.

A dying tradition:

If the film is an elegy to a lost time, one may ask where did it all go? The answer is here in the film as well. Modern production methods, new materials, and a search for cheaper production costs slowly led the industry-leading company to outsource their production. Hand-made split cane gave way to fiberglass, and the young girls that sat in rows tying trout flies now sat in those same rows in Asia and Africa. Slowly, but inexorably, each of the crafts was eroded, until Hardy Brothers became a design and marketing company instead of a production company. This was not a smooth process, which the film hints at. Indeed, at several points in their later history, Hardy’s direction and product offering became rather lost. It was as if they were looking for their way in a dark room with no light. Hardy had their feet rooted in tradition and history, and were reaching out to the new high-tech market: disc-drag reels, lighter rods, etc. To give an example of the opportunities misused, Hardy may in fact be the first company to build a graphite rod, but missed out in bringing it to market like the could have.

As the film wanders to its conclusion, several elderly workers and fly fishermen reminisce about what the loss means. The term ‘bespoke’ is a British one, meaning hand made to the customer’s specifications. The bespoke industry may have gone from Hardy’s, but as the film shows, it just turned around and emerged as a cottage industry, where the craftsmen work from their tool shops in garages and produce hand made reels and cane rods to this day.

Hardy’s may have changed, and the world of the true craftsman and the gentlemen that used their tackle lost, but the tackle itself was so well made that it exists today as collector’s items or is cherished on the river.

They say that if an author’s work is read, than he or she lives on through the words. If this is true than the lost world of Mr. Hardy is not altogether lost. It can be found in that wonderful ratchet sound of their reels still heard today, crafted by men and women in a lost time. The time may be history, but the appreciation of their craft is not.

If you are a fly-fisherman and a fan of fine tackle, this film, especially its historical footage, may make a welcome addition to your collection, and serve as an inspiration much as the old Hardy tackle catalogue did to several generations of dreamers. E.H.