Silk Line~Summoning the Humingbird

The sounds of many rivers allow us to fall into a hypnotic state and transport our senses to a more serene, and most often inquisitive, place. If we step away from all of the digital madness in the world today and find ourselves completely alone on a river there is a very noticeable difference in heart rate, thought patterns, and levels of concentration. Most noticeable of all is that time has little or no measurable bearing. The position of our shadow, or the angle of reflection of the water, is really the only cue when it comes to relative time. The sounds that a fisherman makes are somewhat limited; I suppose that's why I come across so much shy wildlife from one season to the next. Fox, Heron, deer, the elusive badger, and turkey are all the usual suspects. This past season, two coyotes came sloshing across the river, twenty or so feet in front of me, with absolutely no inhibition. Recently, an unexpected visit from a hummingbird has kept me thinking about the qualities of silk fly line.

One morning this season, while casting in the middle of a riffle on a small stream near my home, I heard a low-pitched humming noise. The sound startled me because it came so quickly. Like an on-off switch, the hum came and went. I quickly realized I was being visited by a hummingbird. As soon as I cast, the hummingbird would come back and dance above my rod tip. So I paused for about thirty seconds, and the hummingbird disappeared. I false casted a few times, and there he was again dancing on top of the rod tip as though he was trying to summon me. I decided to pull the line in instead of casting, and the sound attracted the bird again. When I stopped pulling, he became disinterested and flew off. I’m no ornithologist, but there is obviously a sound silk makes running through a fly rod that attracts the hummingbird! I ruled out the rod's motion while casting. Again, it only danced on the tip when the line flowed in and out of the guides. Because silk line (uncoated silk) has a subtly textured surface, it acts much like a stringed instrument, such as a viola or cello. When the two surfaces meet and cause friction, a discernible sound is made.

I fell in love with silk line the first time I cast it. Over the years, I use mostly Terenzio silk lines from Italy. I use Terenzio's line to test and evolve all of my tapers, since they are true-to-weight lines that also come in half-sizes. The lines create a distinct, subtle “zipper” sound as they slide through the guides. The heft and density of the line is so slight that I feel I could never return to casting plastic lines with the same level of enthusiasm. I compare it to the sound an electric keyboard makes, rather than a real piano. Some subtleties cannot be denied. I suppose I will never know what that hummingbird was thinking. I’d like to think he could simply recognize the sounds of a well-crafted silk fly line.

The Hummingbird
by Harry Kemp
The sunlight speaks.  And its voice is a bird:
It glitters half-guessed, half-seen, half-heard
Above the flower bed. Over the lawn ...
A flashing dip, and it is gone.
And all it lends to the eye is this --
A sunbeam gives the air a kiss.