Many years ago I fished the Lower Bann with my father. I
was just into my teens and feeling my way into a life of
fishing, all things fishy were of interest and I soaked up,
sponge like, everything that came my way. My Dad was the
eldest of three brothers running Belfast's oldest gunmakers
and fishing tackle manufacturers, so my sponge was kept busy.
It was not known at that tender age that my whole life would
be spent 'soaking up' and that in these two wonderful pursuits
one can never know it all and that soaking up never stops.
On the evening in question the Lower Bann was in perfect
condition for trout and the dry fly. This large river,
which drains Lough Neagh, the largest lake in Great Britain,
is, apart from being a fine salmon river, justly famous for
its trout. Let, in those days, by the half mile, this
deceivingly placid stretch of water had been fished by the
discerning for so many years that a range of dry flies had
evolved, just for the Bann. They were much the same as the
standard patterns then in common use, but bigger. Tied quite
heavily on 12, 10, or even 8 hooks these were imaginatively
called names like Bann Golden Olive, Bann Medium Olive, Bann
Red Spinner, Bann Claret and Bann Black Spinner. I don't need
to go on, you have the idea. These were, as far as I know,
only sold in Belfast for those lucky enough to have "a bit
of the Bann." I have it on good authority however, that
quite a few patterns found their way to the large lakes in
the centre and west of Ireland, where they did sterling service
as mayflies when the ubiquitous Green Drake had temporarily
lost its potency.
We had been allowed to fish for an evening by a customer of
Dad's, who had given rudimentary directions and said "Go and
fish." Upon arrival we realized, or Dad did, yours truly
simply trailing along teenager fashion, that this was fishing
which demanded breast high waders. Now in those days, breast
highs were exotic animals, sold to people with whom one seldom
had the temerity to enquire where they were fishing or why
they need the things. They bought them and disappeared into
the country from whence they had arrived leaving behind the
aroma of money and exciting fishing. To use or to need breast
highs ever entered the imagination of normal people, who simply
fished from the bank. You see, in those days if the piece of
water in front of you was not fishable from the bank, you just
went somewhere else. There was plenty of room, we hardly ever
saw another fisherman. Oh, whose happy days of yore!
We tried to cover some water from the bank but to no avail,
the river was just too wide. We were at a disadvantage from
the start, and found ourselves casting envious eyes at a
fisherman on the next beat upstream, fishing comfortably
from a tethered boat, and what is more, catching fish.
We allowed ourselves to drift towards him, drawn by pure envy
just below the surface of professional interest and normal
angler's curiosity. As we approached, the angler in the boat
dropped downstream from the crossrope to which he was attached,
and not surprisingly, my dad knew him. He was a customer
well enough known to be on first name terms. The resulting
conversation was carried out over fifty yards of water,
resulting in the longed for, by me at least, invitation,
"Come in the boat and try your luck." We needed no second
bidding.
The boat's occupant turned out to be one Bill Ayrton, a
customer and friend of long standing. He was, my dad
explained to me, an inventor of things weird and wonderful,
some of which worked. Some years before he had come up
with something revolutionary to do with golf clubs, had
sold the idea to a manufacturer and was living quite
happily on the royalties. He was an enthusiastic angler,
traveling the length and breadth of Ireland, fishing for
trout, sea trout and salmon wherever and whenever the
opportunity presented itself. Given financial security,
wouldn't we all!
Coming back to the day in question, the Bann fish did not
want to co-operate. We caught a few, but the large fish
for which the river was famous, eluded us. Bill had three
fish, all over three pounds, so of course had to be pumped
for the secret. It transpired that he was this very evening,
giving the final test to his latest gadget, a hook for live
flies.
In these enlightened days most of us will throw up our hands
in horror at the thought of impaling a live fly on a hook,
but the Daddy had been fished like this since time immemorial,
and so had the Mayfly. These were impaled or tied onto the
shank with light elastic or even grass. Bill had his fish
this day on Daddies using this hitherto secret gadget. It
was a spring affair like a tiny mole trap, soldered on the
shank of the hook. There were two "wings" at the sides which
one pulled down holding the hook as one did so. This opened
the gape of the holding prongs wherein one placed the hapless
insect. Releasing the wings now had the effect of holding
the Daddy or Mayfly firmly and in place.
This was one of the first outings of the "Ayrbro" hook, which
was to become commercially available and to sell in reasonable
numbers for many years. We, at least, sold many hundreds.
Like so many ingenious items of fishing tackle it went the
way of most handmade objects, fading away as a new generation
of anglers changed the face of the tackle catalogues. Make
in quantities few than the millions now essential for commercial
success, such individual oddities now never see the light of day.
I am old enough to remember the catalogues, Hardy's in particular,
in whose pages one could find such exotica as "Colonel Pickering's
Patent Whatsimicallit" for drying one's dry flies after every
ten casts, or Mr. Frederick Smythe-Willoughby's patent cast
box. A Major Wardel had a lapel-mounted magnifying glass named
after him. Mr. Hutton's Wye minnows were, apparently, unsurpassed,
as were the range of sea trout flies perfected by a Dr. Evelyn.
Such esoteric items of temptation were, of course, in addition
to the vast range of rods and reels made by Hardy's, many of
which were the result of making a "special" for a well-known
or well-connected customer and subsequently introducing it
into their catalogue. The modern angler would reel before
such treats as the "Viccount Grey," a 10ft 6in split cane rod
made for the famous statesman of that name. Frederick Halford,
of immortal fame among fishermen, had the "Halford Knockabout"
named after him as did Keith Rollo, A.H.E. Wood, Jock Scott,
Alexander Wanless et al. The list is almost endless. You
could be excused forming a desire to possess a rod name the
"R.C.B" knowing it had been designed to meet the requirement
of Mr. R.C. Bridgett, author of Loch Fishing Theory and
Practice.
The climate of the time, however, is nowhere so vehemently
expressed as by the "H. Cholmondley-Pennel Trout Fly Rod."
I quote - "Mr. Cholmondley-Pennel, to whose order the original
rod was made say: The split cane rod with steel centre makes
a beautiful trouting rod. The length of mine, mady by Messrs
Hardy Bros. is 10ft 6 in. The stiffness and swishiness
(honestly!) leaves, to my mind, absolutely nothing to be desire."
Blessed with such a recommendation from an August personage,
what could Hardy's do but straightaway put it into production.
It remained in their catalogue for many years.
The days are long gone when a manufacturer, major or otherwise,
could include in his range of products the wild ramblings of
which most fishermen are capable, and even sell a few. Their
conception and production are defeated by the need to make a
profit, something which didn't seem to matter too much in the
old days.
P.S. I am hopelessly devoted to my Hank Robert's Waltons
Thumb, a beautifully made and designed little gadget. I sold
many of these in the brief time they were available, and only
wish I had had the foresight to put a few aside for the future.
Nothing really changes.
P.P.S. The Walton's thumb was the first of the modern rash
of multi-tools. Made in the orient to Hank Roberts' design (I think)
it is in the finest stainless steel and has all of the gadgets a boy
could want, scissors, blade, hook sharpener, leader cutter, needle
spike. They came to the UK 15 or 29 years ago as a remnant of an
order which went wrong, if I remember Miller fly reels were part
of it. I bought 150 and sold them very quickly indeed, wish I had
more. ~ Jim Clarke
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