Experts on the fly may forget to fish

Some Americans, who have turned fly-casting into an art, have forgotten the aim of the exercise. Photo / Geoff Thomas

Trying make a living as an outdoor writer is a hazardous business. Here in New Zealand we have some of the world's best shooting and fishing, but the small size of the country makes it hard to earn a full-time living by writing about it.

However, in the United States there are some wonderfully clever and creative masters of the craft. One such was Ed Zern, who wrote a humorous column in Field and Stream magazine for about 40 years. When he visited this country, he would drop lines like: "You know all fishermen are born honest - but they get over it."

It was many years ago and we were staying at the hotel in Tokaanu, fishing Lake Taupo, and the locals were excited to meet a famous American writer. The first day on the lake, Zern hooked and lost two big trout, mainly because he was unaccustomed to having such large fish on the end of his fly rod and he refused to let them take line and so they broke off. He was holding court in the bar that night when somebody asked, "How did you get on today?"

"Oh, a couple of fish attacked my fly," he replied. "But I managed to pull it away from them."

Such characters enrich the outdoor world with their writing and another household name in the fly-fishing fraternity was Lefty Kreh, who also visited and fished here. He was one of the great fly-casters and, once, while watching him demonstrate his skills on a grass lawn at a Federation of Fly Fishermen conclave in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, he cast the whole 30m fly line effortlessly. Explaining how fly casting was all about timing, he would dismantle the rod and take up just the tip section, and proceed to cast the whole line. Then he would dispense with the rod tip and cast the line with just his stiff arm. One day, Lefty was explaining how to avoid tailing loops, which is how wind knots are created in your leader while casting. It is all about applying power on the forward stroke, and, if done too sharply, the rod tip dips and the line follows its path and so hits itself, putting a knot in the leader.

He asked: "What do you guys do about tailing loops in Noo Zeeland?" We couldn't resist and replied: "We don't bother about tailing loops, mate, we are too busy catching fish." Which is so true.

Americans have taken the art of fly-casting to such a high degree they have forgotten about the object of the exercise, which is get your fly out on to the water to catch fish.

When you visit the San Francisco Casting Club, you see yuppies in suits spending their lunch hours casting on a pool like a large swimming pool. That is all they do. They cast fly rods because it is fashionable, but the nearest trout fishing is about 10 hours' drive away.

Another well-known writer was Charlie Waterman, who kindly sent us a book of his recollections in which he referred to some of the letters he had received. "The occasional mail from readers makes outdoor writers feel recognised and sometimes even wanted," he said.

One letter said: "I have read with great interest your article on fishing with poppers for bass and snook. It is by far the most comprehensive article on the subject I have ever read and I am anxious to try it for myself. How do you do it?"

And: "I have read an article by you in which you say that your wife caught a [1.3kg] trout on a 6X tippet in Montana. All true angling sportsmen should be ashamed of you for writing such hogwash. I have never even done that myself."

And: "Do you have any plans for a lure that explodes and kills the fish when it bites? If so, how does it keep from blowing the fish's head off and losing it?"

How about this: "I want to get my husband a fishing thing for Christmas. He had three and lost one. What is it?"

A classic (in response to a column stating that stray cats sometimes kill birds): "I hope there is a special place in hell for you. Your hint that cats are natural bird killers is disgusting. Only a poor, starving waif of a kitty ... would be forced to attack a songbird and you are trying to get our pets murdered by heartless hunters."

We look forward to opening the mailbox.