From “Hatch” magazine US
by Chris Hunt
(Abridged)
Like most fly fishers, I have many mentors who have helped me as I’ve pursued the craft over some 50 years now. One of those men was an older lawyer in Salida, Colorado. He introduced me to the Prince Nymph.
This venerable fly pattern remains, to this day, one of the dirtiest tricks we can play on trout. Tied with a heavy non-lead core and that trickiest of tricky materials, peacock herl, even a haphazardly tied Prince (and that’s the most generous description I can give any Prince Nymph I’ve ever tied) can muster a deepwater strike when other weighted bugs just won’t.
Tied correctly, it’s a handsome fly. With its white and brown goose biot quills and its perfectly wrapped, luminescent peacock strands, it picks up any light thrown its way, and literally shines until something can’t stand it anymore and absolutely must eat it. And, looking at the calendar, I’m reminded that the Prince, while a damn good option just about any time of the year.
As the lead fly in a double-nymph rig, a heavy, size 14 Prince tied with a gold brass bead and a thin rib of shiny lime coloured wire, should be a late-winter and early spring staple in any fly box.
Stonefly Imitation
Tied bigger, it’s a reasonable impression of stonefly nymph — I’d wager I’ve caught more winter and spring trout with a size 10 Prince than all the other winter-fished nymphs I’ve tried.
Tied smaller, say in a size 18 or even a 20 and allowed to swing out at the end a drift, and it becomes trout candy for the midge-eaters.
Tied really big — size 8 or even size 6, and it’s a serviceable steelhead fly. Throw on some rubber legs and you’ve got a favourite pattern of anglers for bigger fish like sea-run brown trout.
Despite its somewhat dastardly purpose, the fly has earned its royal moniker. Rather, like a lot of flies “back in the day,” it was named for the first guy to tie it — Doug Prince. But the first iteration of this weighted bug wasn’t tied by Prince — it was crafted by brothers Don and Dick Olsen of Minnesota, and it first came off the vise around 1930 sporting brown or black ostrich herl and bearing the name the Brown Forked Tail.
The Name
Thankfully, Doug Prince altered the pattern sometime in the late 1930s or early 1940s and attached his name to it.
We should also be enthusiastically thankful that Doug’s last name wasn’t “Szerbiak” or “Bellagamba” or something like that, for it’s not likely such a name would have inspired the same appeal that “Prince” does today, and has for generations of fly tiers and fly fishers. And we should all be equally grateful that Prince obviously had a bit of an ego and ditched the name “Brown Forked Tail,” right?
It remains today one of the most utilitarian fly patterns out there, and, while many might use it to simply acquire depth, others, like me, appreciate that it’s still a trout catcher when other bugs won’t do the trick.
Footnote: “Hatch magazine” can be subscribed to on-line.
Editor’s comment: The Prince Nymph is a top nymph anywhere and in New Zealand – I know from joyful experience on hard-to-hook trout!
On the upper Wairau fishing with an American friend, we tried every nymph in my fly wallet on a dour fish. At a loss, he then suggested the Prince nymph.
What the heck! We’d tried everything else.
The hefty fish took it first cast. Ever since I’ve regarded the Prince Nymph highly. Yes, it’s a very good pattern.
The Prince Nymph has been around for decades. It, like so many other great flies, is a perfect replica of “nothing in particular.” Some say it looks like a stonefly nymph? But to me, the Prince Nymph looks like “nothing.” Yet it works a treat on the Tongariro and Tauranga Taupo where I’ve tried it.