THE CASE STUDY: I fish saltwater in the Northeast. Most of the time when I pick up a rod to cast I have an immediate primary objective: defeat wind. If that goes well and a hookset results, the rod needs the fighting strength to combat the savagery of bluefish, the brute strength of stripers, and the blistering speed of tunids. Limp noodles and fragile finesse rods are not part of the equation.
When I opened the UPS box containing an Orvis Helios 9-weight prototype, I wasn’t sure which type of rod it would be. Right away, though, I deduced that Orvis hit the nail on the head with the name–I worried that it would float away. (Get it? Like a helium balloon?) I won’t shed any light on the technical details of how Orvis achieved this, because I don’t know any–Orvis isn’t ready to share yet.
I found the Helios predecessor, the Zero G, passed Noreast muster after spending the day casting to bonito with a Zero G 10-weight during a small-craft advisory, then watching Jeremy Cameron of Flies and Fins use the same rod to whip a school bluefin tuna. But did Orvis go too far in trying to better it? Did it go too light?
I’ve witnessed other “revolutionary” ultra-light fly rods explode, literally, at the butt section when pitted against serious saltwater fish. They looked as if some punk eigth-grader packed the blank with M-80s. (If you’re a baseball fan, a good analogy would be the difference between an ash and maple bat. Maple bats don’t break as often, but when they do, they burst with impugnity.) A test was in order.
THE TEST: Western Long Island Sound, my home turf, is now rife with bluefish. Perfect test quarry since they’re user friendly, fight hard, and abuse tackle. I brought the Helios on the boat and tried it with floating line. First with a streamer and then with a crease fly. The rod loads quickly and casts silky smooth. I found, even when casting the crease fly, that I could accurately shoot line with minimal effort.
I gave the Helios a real acid test. I switched reels to pair it with my depth charge rig–a shooting line with 26-feet of Rio T14. I tried it first with a deceiver and then with an eight-inch bunker fly. Normally I fish this rig with a 10-weight, but I wanted to overload the Helios. Casting the T14 with it felt like cocking a crossbow. With the rod, I could slingshot the deceiver no problem. The bunker fly whizzed by my head like a heat seeking missile–a disconcerting sound, to say the least–but the rod handled the load.
THE VERDICT: The biggest bluefish I connected with weighed eight pounds on the Boga grip, a fun fish to combat but I’d hoped to hit a double digit gator to see how the Helios reacted. But as far as first impressions, I’m impressed. Orvis definitely outclassed its own–the Zero G–and we’ll see, when all the results are in, whether the Helios will best all comers.




