9 February 2015
I have a few good fishing pals who are older than I am. I really enjoy fishing with them. I have never been able to put my finger on why that is. In mulling over why that might be, these two conversations come to mind: A friend of mine recently returned from a family holiday. It was one of those extended family things where each family within the greater gathering takes a bungalow, and then you get together for meals to argue and create family politics. You know the set up. Anyway, he and his wife were placed with some
Last night I was washing and treating my fly-lines, and I got to thinking. Firstly, I was treating them with some “water shed”. If you haven’t got some of this stuff, do yourself a favour. It really is great. It floats flies, furled leaders and the tips of your floating lines. It smells a lot like Hydrostop, which I used to use years ago. Maybe it’s the same stuff in a new bottle. I don’t know. But like I say, it works a treat on the special high floating tip of my new fly line. Sinks like a stone that
When I was a child, my bedroom lead off a small study in our rather strangely designed house. That study was like a staging post between two long passages. One passage lead to the rest of the bedrooms, and the other to the lounge , dining room and kitchen. In that study was a great big desk, at which my mother sat, with her “Facit” adding machine and did the farm accounts. She wound the handle vigorously, ran the lever across with gusto, and punched in numbers until the machine obliged with a delightful little ping, and she could write
The fishing club that I belong to has a very efficient web based booking system. It is all very slick. You log on with a password, tick little boxes, and when you are done it sends you an automated e-mail. Very functional. But back in the day, we had to deal with people! One club had a truly dear lady, whom one phoned at set times in the evening. She chatted away, and got to know each of the regular club members, at least in an “over the phone” kind of way. As a high school kid, my car owning
In Thomas McGuane’s wonderful book of the same name he writes “For the ardent fisherman, progress is toward the kinds of fishing that are never productive in the sense of the blood riots of the hunting-and-fishing periodicals.” That is a deep thought, and one that makes me feel a little better. Clearly I am progressing, because I am not catching a whole pile of fish! Of course I would like to catch some better sized fish, or a few more of them, but I will bow graciously to this “progress” that has been bestowed on me. The truth be told,
These things have started getting up my nose again. [vimeo 105912879 w=500 h=281] Anglers curse from Andrew Fowler on Vimeo.
We think our Great Dane rather dim, and more than a little quirky, when the only way he will cross the dining room, is in reverse with my daughter’s shirt in his mouth. But that is nothing. Let me tell you some crazy stuff about us fly-fishermen! I quite recently listened with care and respect, while a hatchery man told me that he doesn’t breed Brown Trout, because the Rainbow alevins, just gobble up all the Brown alevins within days of hatching. I have also heard it said, (More than once) that a float tube has an advantage over a