The Lost Salt Flies: Kreh to Wejebe
Words by Sam Wike
I was standing in the remnants of an abandoned “saltwater” fly shop in Craig, Montana, at least 600 miles away from the nearest salt.
On one wall was a 42-inch TV, an early version of a flatscreen. Scattered below were DVD’s, including many forgotten saltwater classics, such as Black Tailed Devils, Drift, Running Down the Man, and Providence. Slatwall hung on another partition and was filled with thousands of saltwater flies, many of them (by the looks of it) having been there for a decade or more.
That may sound interesting to you. It was especially intriguing to me. See, I’d just bought The Trout Shop in Craig, which came with that abandoned “saltwater” collection. When I saw all those flies, I felt a moment of panic, realizing they were an undisclosed part of the deal. And now I needed to sell them.
The flies had been repackaged by the previous owner, with loose or nonexistent descriptions accompanying them. I was starting from scratch and a bit overwhelmed, but my mindset quickly shifted from panic to curiosity and told me, Maybe I shouldn’t feel overwhelmed. Maybe, instead, this was an excuse to delve deeper into the saltwater game, to embrace research and see if those flies had stories to tell.
It wasn’t a difficult ask: I’m enamored with saltwater fly fishing, including its history and innovative fly designs. I’ve lived in the north my whole life and although I’ve been lucky enough to fish many famous saltwater destinations, I still consider salt as an unexplored frontier, offering a never-ending bucket list of opportunity.
Embracing that idea, I gathered those flies and brought them to a small study at my house so I could bring their stories back to life. I discovered thousands of stories by matching those flies to photos in Google images, scrolling through old forums, making phone calls to industry friends, and buying old books off eBay... all with hopes of discovering little pieces of history that never made it to the internet.
In an effort to name each fly, a number of stories stood out, including some I’d never heard, some that finally tied a whole story together, and some that may be impossible to ever figure out.
Following are a few of my most noted discoveries:
Lefty Kreh’s Deceiver (or is it?)
We have all heard of the Deceiver, and most of us know that Lefty’s name is attached to it. However, another legend of saltwater angling, a guy from South Florida, claims the pattern was “stolen”.
That guy? Norman Duncan.
Duncan moved to South Florida in 1945 and although he claims to have never wanted the spotlight, he got there.
After serving in the Army he returned to Miami to build skiffs for the Glenncraft Boat Company. He also embraced invention and some of his claims to fame include the Inside/Outside Fly (I assume this is what he called the Deceiver before it was called the Deceiver), the Mutton/Cockroach Fly (one of the top tarpon patterns of all time), the Puff Permit Fly, the Twenty Times Around knot (now called the Bimini Twist), the Duncan Loop Knot, boat side curtains, and several rod blank designs.
If that weren’t enough, he also claims he contributed to making the first sinking-head fly lines, red bandanas, of all things, and the first fiberglass push pole.
What?
First of all, the Deceiver is Lefty’s most famous fly and, some might argue, the most famous and productive baitfish pattern ever created, although Bob Clouser, and many other anglers, might make the argument for his Clouser Minnow.
During a 2021 interview with Andy and Nicky Mill (Millhouse podcast) Duncan may or may not have used the word “stolen” when talking about the Deceiver. But Duncan’s demeanor makes me curious: What does he really think? During that interview Norman said Lefty once wrote, “Norman Duncan invented the fly (Deceiver) many years before.” Duncan was pointing out a 1972 Saltwater Sportsman article referencing, of course, the fly pattern now known as “Lefty’s Deceiver”.
Chasing this story reminded me that many fly patterns, most in fact, are simply adaptations inspired by previous creations. And it makes me wonder, Is there a line in the sand? And if so, where is it for each of us?
Jim McVay’s Gotcha
The only time cigarettes provided eternal life was for a man named Jim McVay and his revered bonefish fly, the Gotcha.
As legend goes… Jim McVay was on his way to the Andros Island Bonefish Club when he saw some “shrimpy” looking carpet in a taxi cab, and clipped off a little “keepsake” for future use. That chunk of carpet became the wing for the first Gotcha fly ever tied. McVay used the mylar from a pack of cigarettes as the body.
During that trip McVay was being guided by legendary Andros Island bonefish guide Captain Rupert Leadon who yelled “Gotcha” every time they hooked up on the fly.
The Gotcha, one of two of the most important bonefish flies ever developed, had proven its worth.
But wait, there’s more . . . Charlie Smith, creator of the other most important bonefish fly, the Crazy Charlie, along with Ivan Neymour, and you guessed it, Rupert Leadon, are considered the pioneers of Bahamas bonefishing on the fly. A new version of the Gotcha has emerged from Rupert’s son Nick Leadon. That fly is called the “Super Gotcha” even though it’s been popularized on YouTube as the “Andros Island Gotcha.”
Leadon’s Super Gotcha?
The Gotcha saga continues. One thing is for sure, if your Andros Island guide's family name is Smith, Neymour, or Leadon, you are in good hands and a part of the Gotcha story.
Gary Merriman’s Tarpon Toad
Do you know what a Merkin is? Do not Google it.
If you’re a Floridian, we know how you feel about outsiders. That’s why you might consider it a living hell to learn that a man from California invented the Merkin, a pattern that many anglers believe to be the most iconic and productive permit fly of all time . . . a fly that eventually evolved into, possibly, the greatest tarpon fly of all time.
The story gets better . . . the late Del Brown, a Californian, developed the Merkin Crab from rug yarn, chicken feathers, rubber bands, and lead eyes, and landed many of his former record of 513 permit on the fly, on his own creation.
Here’s where the Florida crew enters the scene. After noticing that large bonefish were focusing on toadfish, Captain Harry Spear adapted Del’s Merkin Crab to more of a swim-style fly so he and his clients could effectively strip the fly for those big bonefish. He named his “new” fly, the Tasty Toad.
A client of Spear’s, Gary Merriman, who was familiar with the Tasty Toad’s success, took it one step further when he had this epiphany: Tarpon don’t want a fly to bounce or jig; they like it suspended, demonstrating natural movement, just like a live baitfish.
Gary deserves all the credit for this fly but the evolution of it gives it soul.
So we must continue.
Gary showed his secret “poon” fly to Captain Tim Hoover who was guiding Gary on a regular basis. At the time Hoover was developing a similar fly called the Tweety Bird. When Hoover saw the poon’s reaction to Gary’s Tarpon Toad he made the switch.
Soon after, Hoover became Andy Mill’s guide. Mill is the best tournament tarpon angler of all time. Together, they decided to change the bunny strip on the back of Gary’s Tarpon Toad to marabou, which effectively eliminated any issues with the rabbit strip fowling around the bend of the hook.
Together they won five gold cups, with their variant of the Tarpon Toad being at the center of attention during many of those triumphs.
Today you can buy that version of the fly: it’s called the “Millhouse Tarpon Toad.”
Jose Wejebe’s Spanish Fly
This one is elusive.
If you, like me, are a millennial and grew up watching fishing shows, you likely remember Jose Wejebe’s Spanish Fly.
Wejebe was born in Cuba in 1959 and immigrated to the United States in 1961. Wejebe is a legend of South Florida fishing circles and was famously known by the name of his boat, Spanish Fly, a name developed by Wejebe’s mentor, Stu Apte (who invented Key’s style tarpon flies altogether).
What’s maddening is this: there’s nothing to be found about Wejebe’s flies or his fly tying in general. Stu Apte mentions he was a great fly tyer and that, in his younger years, he often tied flies for Apte and Flip Pallot.
Unfortunately Wejebe died on April 6, 2012, when his ultralight plane crashed in Everglades City, Florida.
I had never heard of Jose Wejebe’s fly designs, but as I was standing in our new “saltwater shop” in Craig the name Wejebe’s Spanish Fly, which was printed on a sticker on a pile of packaged white colored snook flies, got my attention. More research is required on this one, but finding these flies, and trying to put the pieces together, is leading me on a serious path of saltwater discovery. And, if you look closely at your flies, and wonder how they came to be you, too, are sure to learn some interesting stories along the way.
**Note: If you would like to learn more about Jose Wejebe, including his fishing exploits, TV career, and the tragic end to his life, visit the Jose Wejebe Foundation and consider making a donation to his continuing cause.
