Roughly two years ago I received a package from Castaway Customs. Based out of coastal Florida, they specialize in SeaDek fabrication and installation for boats. Basically, they help protect your boat while keeping you safe and comfortable on the water.
I don’t have a boat. But I did request the package.
Inside was a handful of stickers and a gray rectangle the size of a paperback book. The stickers quickly found their way onto the side of a Yeti. They assimilated into the fly fishing collage on the big cooler. The gray rectangle would need more consideration. It was also a sticker, but it had as much function as it did form. It was a Flybrary.
The Flybrary Project was the invention of Larry Littrell. Certainly there have been other communal lure exchanges in the past, but Littrell and his podcasting compatriots from Tailer Trash Fly Fishing kicked off a minor movement. It started with stickers. But what began as chronic gas-pump defacement in Oak Hill, Florida spread across the country.
This fly-focused take on “take a penny, leave a penny” is a tangible initiative in a world of hashtags and heart-click platitudes. It got people sharing. It got people thinking. It got people getting creative. It got people – and you can’t underestimate this one – smiling.
Stumbling out of the underbrush on a river in Central Virginia late in 2019, I came up behind a kiosk adjacent to the parking lot. The day was cold and the trout weren’t too cooperative. I went to the car for some coffee, and turned around to read whatever information had been posted about the river. On the bottom of the board there was a Flybrary. I walked up, added the few flies I had drying on my pack, snapped a picture, and went on my way.
I’ve come across four or five Flybraries in the wild. Each time, I smile. A few times I have found a fly that catches my interest. I’ve always found something to leave behind (the effectiveness/quality of said flies is debatable). But the real joy comes from the fact that someone out there is invested, even in a small way, in cultivating some sort of community on their local stream. Like the little front-lawn book cabinets found in neighborhoods, a little initiative and generosity can go a long way.
I settled on affixing my Flybrary on the back of a kiosk off the Merrymeeting River in central New Hampshire. It isn’t my favorite river or even the closest stream. There are resident warmwater species, but the real draw is the annual salmon run. The strong fish run out of Lake Winnipesaukee and can be targeted with flies. I chose the spot because of all the conversations I’ve had in that parking lot. Curious passersby and new fly anglers are curious as to how in the world you’re supposed to catch a fish in there. All of those chats made fostering fly sharing an easy choice.
Two years in and anyone can still get in on the action. Anyone can generate a little community. Who knows who you’ll help? Who knows who will help you? Who knows who you’ll meet, fish with, and… there’s an endless realm of possibilities after that. A few clicks and five dollars puts an official Flybrary in your hands. Or, you can just use double-sided tape and a strip of foam. Larry won’t mind one bit.
Want to learn more? I’d suggest reading an account from the man, Larry Littrell (@saltbum), himself. Then, check out a Q&A that Flylords put up on their site. And, of course, follow @flybraryproject on Instagram to see what others have done.