Fish Lies, Fact or Fiction?

After watching innumerable videos on fly fishing and listening to twice as many podcasts on the same subject, it seems I grew up under a cloud of false beliefs and ignorance.

According to a recent Orvis podcast, feeding lies, sheltering lies and prime lies refer to distinct areas where trout go to eat, to be protected and to be in an area that provides all the elements the fish needs to survive, respectively.

These definitions are radically different from what I believed growing up.

When I was younger, a feeding lie referred to the size of your fish. More accurately, it referred to the size you actually said it was. Hence the common phrase, "What's this mess you're feeding me," or some variation, which often followed such slightly altered statements of fish size.

Sheltering lies, however, often have an element of truth to them. In general, they are are statements that can't quite be quantified.

"That bass had the biggest attitude of any fish I ever caught," "that sunfish put a lot of heart into that fight," and "that was the biggest pumpkinseed I ever saw" are good examples of proper sheltering lies.

Unlike the feeding and sheltering lies, the prime lie can take many different forms. Instead of going into an elaborate detailed description of a prime lie, allow me to give you an excellent example.

I caught my first striped bass on a fly rod when I was a teenager. In fact, I caught it within the first two casts the first time I picked up a fly rod. At the time I had no clue as to what I was doing. I cast out a little weighted fly and stripped it back. Cast it out again and was stripping it back when the fish hit. I set the hook and struggled some, but managed to land it. I'd guess that it's about 14 or 15 pounds.

What makes this a prime lie is that technically, it's all true. I was 17. It was my first time holding a fly rod. Cluelessness did indeed hold me in a firm grip. However, notice the verb tense change in the last sentence.

When I caught the striper, it probably weighed in just over a pound. If the bass is still alive, though, it could very well be 14 or 15 pounds or more by now. Herein lies the quality element of the enigma that is the prime lie.

Imagine my surprise at discovering all these years later that some disrespectful fisherman changed the meaning of my perfectly crafted fishing terminology! Despicable!