Casting About: The “Eighty-Eight”

Ed Mitchell with a landlocked salmon before release.

For this issue I had planned to take us up to the Deerfield River in Massachusetts and had lined up a guide to help us understand the fishery. Seemed like a solid idea. First, the guide became unavailable. Next, the weather intervened. Flooding in Northern New England was again a problem this summer. And then New England got walloped with the leftovers from Florida’s hurricane Debby. All of this going to prove the old adage: Into every life some rain must fall.

Given the circumstances, I had to shift gears. Now hang on, we’ll get to the Deerfield River and other northern rivers, I promise. But for now, we’ll try something different. I’m going to introduce you to an effective fly that I doubt you have ever heard of, nor are you apt to find it in any fly-tying book, fly-fishing catalog, or in any fly shop. It’s called the Eighty-Eight.

Originally designed for trout and landlocked salmon, the Eighty-Eight was likely born over sixty years ago in the Great North Woods, which, as you may know, was the location of a renaissance in streamer flies going back to the 1920s. With that in mind, I figured what better way to present this forgotten fly than to tell you about my introduction to it on the headwaters of the Connecticut River. So, buckle your seat belt, we’re heading north.

Years back on a sunny June afternoon, I was fishing at Lopstick Lodge in Pittsburg, New Hampshire. Within shouting distance of the Canadian line and above the 45th parallel, Pittsburg is squarely in the Great North Woods and more than halfway from the equator to the North Pole. If you would like to learn more about fishing this wonderful part of the Connecticut River, I covered it last year in the Fall 2023 issue of this very magazine.
While seated at a picnic table outside my cabin sorting through my fly tackle, I looked up and saw Tim Savard walking toward me. At the time he owned the lodge and was a registered New Hampshire fishing guide.

“I need a break. How about I take you fishing for an hour?” Tim said with a shrug. Smiling, I gave him an instant thumbs up. “Well, grab your gear and meet me at my truck,” he added. “I know a spot where we might find some landlocked salmon.”
I had never fished with Tim before and recognized this as an exciting opportunity to learn more about the river. After throwing my stuff in the back, I jumped in the front seat, and off we went. Miles up the road, Tim pulled off. Getting out, I assembled my fly rod, and we both donned waders. Waving for me to follow, Tim took off into the dense forest following a moose trail that led toward the river. Minutes later we stood alongside a glistening riffle with thousands upon thousands of acres of undeveloped forest stretching to the horizon. A stunning backdrop; an outdoor enthusiast’s dream.
“This riffle is loaded with small native brookies, take every dry fly you throw at them,” Tim laughed. “But let’s fish from the far side,” he suggested, pointing to the opposite bank.

With that destination in mind, we waded across in the early-day sun. Once there, we were finally ready to fish. After taking a moment to scout the water, Tim offered a plan. “Tie on an Eighty-Eight,” he instructed. Sheepishly I had to admit not only did I not have one, I had never heard of it. Smiling, Tim opened his fly box and handed me one.
“Put this on and cast it to the far side of the current. Let it settle for a moment, and then retrieve it in short pulls,” he advised.

Following my guide’s advice, I was instantly met with a solid strike. The rod bowed and a beautiful landlocked salmon leaped skyward into the blue. I was thrilled. After releasing that fish, I looked toward Tim. “Cast again,” he shouted with a grin. The next cast didn’t produce, but within a short time I caught two more nice salmon. Yeah, the trip had been a roaring success. On the way back to camp, I thanked Tim for his generous help, and for introducing me to the Eighty-Eight, a fly that has been with me ever since.

The Eighty-Eight is a relatively slim, lightweight, flat wing streamer, intended to match small baitfish in cool water streams. Easy to tie, it is also easy to cast even on a light fly rod. Why red and green wire on the hook shank? Well, the wire does add a bit of weight, but there is more to it. The red matches the belly on some dace, and the green imitates a touch of the dace’s gill plate. Back sixty years or so, fly tyers living in the Great Northwoods had few fly shops nearby and no internet, so they used whatever materials were at hand. My guess is the original red and green wire came out of a discarded phone cable. Yes, fly tyers are notoriously resourceful. Today, thankfully, we can substitute a host of newer materials.

Why the flat wing? Many anglers assume that flat wing streamers are a saltwater creation—not so. Flat wings were first developed long ago for landlocked salmon. Joe’s Smelt fly is a great example. What’s the benefit of a flat wing? Landlocked salmon, and trout for that matter, tend to sit deep. Seen from below, a flat wing streamer moving over head provides an enticing silhouette.

How to Tie the Eighty-Eight
Pick a streamer hook of your liking. My preference is a Mustad 9575 in size 6. I love its looped eye which never interferes with your leader knot and provides a solid platform for the head of the fly—and the Limerick bend is very strong. Secure it in the vise and find your thread. The original pattern called for brown, but I use red thread.