The old story is that a fly reel is just a place to store line. I once bought into this theory, playing fish off the reel and stripping them in while the slack line piled at my feet.
If I hooked a big fish that ran and I found myself playing it on the reel, I’d palm the rim of the spool to slow the runs down until I could work the fish to the net.
That worked pretty well. I’ve caught a lot of fish, including some decent sized trout, with the old palm-the-spool method. But being cheap is really it’s only advantage the old click and pawl reels have over the modern disc drag reels on the market today.
Reel technology started to take off in the ‘80s. In Southern California, Steve Abel applied the tools of his aircraft parts manufacturing business to his hobby, fly fishing. Abel machined bomb-proof fly reels that could handle the saltwater game fish that had become his obsession. I worked at a fishing magazine at the time and joined Abel on a couple of trips out of Ventura where he was trying to set a new record for mako sharks on a fly rod.
Abel’s early reels were in some ways crude by today’s standards, but they set a standard for a butter smooth drag that many manufacturers are still trying to match. The good news is that today there are quite a few options for quality disc-drag reels that don’t require bank loans to purchase.
The exposed spool rim that used to be a required feature of any decent fly reel is no longer necessary. Even mid-priced reels now come with smooth disc drags that get the job done. I now make it a point to get the fish on the reel as quickly as possible, and then let that drag do the work.
Big fish make this easier as their initial runs usually clear the slack line at my feet. I’ll sometimes try to get smaller fish on the reel as well, but this can be counter productive, especially with barbless hooks. The smaller fish don’t pick up slack the way the bigger fish do, and while your fussing with the reel trying to pick up your loose line you can back off the tension enough to allow the hook to slip free. Usually, I just strip the little guys in as quickly as possible.
The other development that elevated fly reels from mere storage device is the large arbor design. The inside diameter of these reels was expanded, resulting in a reel that picks up line more quickly and comes off the reel in more relaxed coils that straighten and run through the guides cleanly. The first examples of large arbors sometimes went overboard. I’ve got an old Orvis from the ‘90s that is as big around as a salad plate. It picks up line faster than any other reel I own, but it’s bulk and weight makes it a little awkward, even on my 10-foot nymphing rod. I’ll retire it as soon as I can afford a replacement.
One final note about reels: weight is important. But that doesn’t mean the lightest reel is always the best. An ultra light (and ultra expensive) fly rod will usually benefit from a reel that is equally light. But my 10-footer, for instance, is a little heavier than my dry fly rod, and of course it’s a foot longer. When I mount my lightest reel on that rod the balance point is about a foot in front of my grip hand. A heavier reel better suits that longer rod, pulling the balance point back to the grip. It feels lighter when casting despite that extra weight at the reel end.
To check the balance of your outfit, mount the reel, but leave the line spooled. The balance point should be about where your thumb rests at the end of the grip. If the balance point is out ahead of your casting hand, your reel is too light for the rod. If it’s behind your hand, your outfit will probably benefit from a lighter reel.