The Feather Thief

Johnson focuses on “a small community of obsessive men addicted to rare and illegal feathers: practitioners of the Victorian art of salmon fly-tying” (54). Fishing has been a human activity since ancient times as attested by the occurrence of fishhooks in ancient Greek cemeteries. Fishermen believe that some fish, especially those that consume insects, are more easily caught when the hook includes a few feathers. This practice of fly-tying extends back to Roman times, although the practice disappeared during the medieval ages.

Its resurgence dates to 1496, when Wynken de Worde, a Dutch printing press owner operating in London, published a book with recipes for different kinds of trout flies. Worde designed these flies to mimic actual insects. In fact, many fishermen believe that they can only catch trout with realistic looking flies. These flies required common, cheap materials such as wool and chicken feathers.

In stark contrast to trout fly-tying, flies for salmon are more elaborate. While fishermen can catch salmon with similar materials as trout, the Victorian aristocratic anglers created ornate flies for “the ‘king of fish’” (57). Individual aristocrats and private fishing clubs soon developed their own salmon fly patterns. They created patterns for different rivers. These ties required feathers from rare birds, such as the Amazonian Macaws and Indian blue Kingfisher.

The first book to document detailed recipes for the creation of salmon flies was William Blacker’s Art of Fly Making (1842). For those who could not afford the rare feathers, the book included recipes for dyeing everyday feathers. However, many practitioners believed a dyed feather was subpar to the real feather.

Johnson notes how salmon fly-ties became more elaborate towards the middle and end of the Victorian era. George Mortimer Kelson, who was from the upper echelons of society, helped turn this practice into an art form. In his book, The Salmon Fly (1895), he details recipes for 300 different types of salmon fly-ties, each of which required multiple unique specimens, including rare bird feathers.

Fly-tying died down in popularity through most of the 19th century. Creative fly-tyer Paul Schmookler led the practice’s re-emergence in the 1990s. His ties include upwards of 150 different materials, including mink and polar bear fur and wild turkey feathers. Some sold for $2,000. Schmookler published several coffee-table books, further turning salmon ties from something functional to art.

Men interested in creating similarly unique fly-ties ran into immediate challenges, including lack of supplies and laws prohibiting the sale of endangered or threatened bird feathers. Some were able to purchase Victorian hats from estate sales. The fly-tie community idolized individuals with access to rare feathers.

Johnson describes Edwin Rist’s childhood, especially how he became interested in fly-tying. A video called The Orvis Fly-Fishing School, which included a segment on trout tying, captured 11-year-old Edwin’s attention. He soon became obsessed with fly-tying, a hobby which his parents nurtured. Edwin learned the basics of fly-tying from the video and subscriptions to Fly Tyer magazine. His brother, Anton, also became interested in fly-tying.

The boys began taking lessons at Don Travers’ fly-fishing shop. Since trout flies require easily accessible materials, they are cheap to make. Evolutionary biology professor George Hooper was the boys’ first instructor. While Edwin did not know how to cast, he was talented at creating fly-ties. Hooper encouraged Edwin and Anton to enter fly-tying competitions.

At one such competition, Edwin saw his first Victorian salmon fly-ties, which were created by Edward “Muzzy” Muzeroll. Edwin soon lost interest in trout flies, wanting to learn how to tie salmon flies. Muzzy tutored the boys. The boys began learning to tie these flies with substitute feathers rather than the rare feathers called for by Victorian era recipes. After Edwin tied his first salmon fly, Muzzy gave him enough Indian Crow and Blue Chatterer feathers to create two flies. Johnson notes “the feathers were legal but rare and prohibitively expensive to a thirteen-year-old” (73).

Edwin and his brother continued refining the art of salmon fly-tying. Through hours of practice and trial and error, Edwin mastered this craft. He was initially not satisfied with his progress, however, because he had to use substitute feathers.

Muzzy encouraged Edwin to contact John McLain, who sold all kinds of feathers on his website FeathersMC.com. McLain taught Edwin how to access feathers on a limited budget. Master tiers, such as Luc Couturier, also started to send Edwin a few feathers to help him complete particular ties as his reputation grew in the fly-tying community. Edwin spent his free time fly-tying. Both Edwin and Anton became master tiers in 2005.

Johnson ends this chapter by noting how Edwin had other things going on in his life besides fly-tying. Edwin was still mastering the flute. He also had an internship at the American Museum of Natural History in New York City. His parents also started their own business breeding hypoallergenic Australian Labradoodles. Edwin helped create the website for their business. Especially pivotal to the story, Edwin was accepted to the Royal Academy of Music in London in 2007. He would live near the London Zoo, which housed Wallace’s Birds of Paradise from the Malay Archipelago several centuries earlier. His goal was to play for the Berlin Philharmonic.