The Importance of Eyes in Fly Tying
By Eric Ersch
Before he proved himself to be a highly-skilled permit fly fishing guide, Jesus Martinez fed his family by fishing with his eyes. Born to a family of fishermen who survived for generations by providing food from the sea, his elders recognized his ability at a young age, utilizing Jesus as a fish “spotter” aboard their sea-going vessels.
Recently, showing me the fly proven most successful over months of guiding anglers to permit after permit on Espiritu Santo Bay, located on the Yucatan Peninsula, Jesus stressed the importance of the eyes on flies. Immediately upon the yellow eyes showing signs of wear, Jesus will cut the fly off the leader and knot on a new one with fresh “yellow eyes.” And his anglers continue to hook crazy numbers of permit.
Juvenile spiny lobsters, mantis shrimp and crabs all have notable eyes. If you have ever watched a permit swim up to your fly, give it a thorough inspection and then reject it, you have had to ask yourself why. Fly design is all about solving problems, and the eyes make a difference. By adding strike-triggers to your flies — and eyes are strike-triggers — you will convince more fish that your fly is alive and worth eating.
Few saltwater flats fish are more difficult to convince than a permit. Serious anglers have spent decades designing and tweaking their permit flies, trying to “break the code.” The weight and position of the eyes that you place on your fly will affect the sink rate and posture of the fly as it sinks through the fish’s window, making it a critical design component. If it doesn’t look real, you are wasting your time.
A couple of weeks ago, I had the opportunity to fish with permit master Mr. Lincoln Westby. He had worked closely with the late Will Bauer in designing the Bauer’s Flats Crab, a “go to” permit fly in Belize that features prominent burnt mono eyes. It sank level through the water column, with the weight on the bottom of the crab, and the neutrally buoyant eyes looking over the shallow coral flats outside of Dangriga.
Fishing a few days later in the Punta Gorda region, the habitat was completely different. Instead of the shallow coral flats on which I’d fished crabs with Lincoln, we were fishing in three to five feet of water over turtle grass. The permit were moving erratically in search of food, often changing direction before the crab sank into their window. We needed a different fly that sank faster, and I could animate it more quickly than a crab, hoping to get the permit’s attention at a greater distance. We hooked a couple permit that afternoon, and more the following day, all on the Jesus shrimp with, of course, fresh, yellow eyes.
From my time in Colorado, I worked my way through the Federation of Fly Fishers (now Fly Fishers International) instructor program and became a certified casting instructor. Casting a fly rod has always been a passion of mine since my days in high school watching my dad defy gravity with a little wimpy pole while I chucked bait with a spinning rod. As I was peddling my goods throughout California, I came across 
My start in fly fishing was a lot like learning how to drive a standard transmission. When I was 17, we traveled back to Iowa from New Jersey to see my grandmother. While we were there, we drove by a car dealership and saw the most beautiful British Racing Green 1980 MGB. I had all of my money saved up from paper routes as a kid to working nights in the bakery during high school to spend on a car and this was the one. My father drove it back to New Jersey while I rode shotgun and froze my ass off because he insisted on having the top down for the entire drive. Once home, it was time to learn to drive a stick. Dad hopped in the driver’s seat, and I was in the passenger seat. With the car running he said “hold the clutch down, put in first gear, and while you give it gas, ease your foot off the clutch.” We rolled down the road a ways while that little 4 banger wound up to the high pitched bell sound it was so infamous for, and he said, “take your foot off the gas, push in the clutch, put it in the next gear and ease the clutch back and gas down at the same time.” We drove about 30 more yards in second gear when he stopped the car, got out, and said, “You’re up.” We got out of the car and I walked around to the driver’s side and hopped in. He walked to the passenger side and shut the door. I asked “What are you doing?” (As he was still standing on the road beside the car.) He chuckled under his breath and said “I’m not going with ya.” At the time, it reminded me of all those weekends where he would hand me a fly rod and say, “You go down stream, I’m going up stream. Good luck.”
Favorite reel and why?
What is the most memorable fly fishing trip you’ve taken?
excellent hatches of the usual suspects of aquatic insects, the fish there seem especially enamored with the abundance of airborne terrestrials the high country experiences. Not least of which are ants, in particular the variety of different species of winged and flying ants that find their way to the water’s surface. One that seems particularly savory to Montana trout – and fish everywhere – is a small bi-colored model commonly called a honey ant. I honestly have no idea if it truly is a honey ant, but certainly the name has stuck. A mid-summer event in the Rocky Mountains, the reproductive flights of thousands of these juicy little critters take them over (and into) some world-class trout waters. Experiencing one of these “ant falls” is kind of like fishing a hatch…except better. Fish often lose their selectivity borne of self-preservation when flying ants are on the water – if you have the right pattern and a decent presentation, it is not unusual to hook nearly every fish that rises within casting range.
segments connected by a thin “waist”. Because the rear abdomen is often large and sits low in the water, I decided on an extended body design…but tied with what? I decided against foam, as I didn’t want this back portion of the fly to float high; and I didn’t want an epoxied abdomen as it would actually add too much weight. I knew I wanted a dubbed rear section, but how to make that work as an extended body? Finally I hit on the idea of taking a bit of dubbing and rolling it between my thumb and forefinger until it naturally twisted back on itself, creating a loosely furled abdomen. Then I simply tied this in near where the hook shank begins to curve…and I had my extended, dubbed rear body segment. The beauty of this design is that the dubbed abdomen sucks up water readily and has a realistic “fleshy” look when wet (I do not put 
Strictly speaking, the Jigster series of nymphs are not classic Perdigon-style nymphs. Though they do share some of the same features – heavy tungsten beads and UV-cured abdomens – they are also a bit different in that they have a soft tail (in place of the signature 
Last but not least, I have chosen to tie this nymph on a jig hook. I have found that, particularly in smaller sizes, I seem to hook and land more fish with this style of hook. Interestingly, I have experimented with fishing small jig nymphs under an indicator, purposefully not striking when a fish takes, and with just the tension of the indicator many fish struggle momentarily to spit the jig hook. As any successful nymph fisherman will attest, having an extra moment to react to a grab can make all the difference!
Mercer’s Jigster PMD – Recipe
Mercer’s Jigster BWO – Recipe
Favorite fish to pursue?
What is your greatest fly fishing extravagance?
If not out looking for fish, Erik loves bowhunting for bugling bulls, whitetails, and antelope, or taking his two pointers in search of upland birds in the high steppes of the West.
