Thought I’d introduce myself to this wonderful community and drop one piece of advice/observation that has struck me in the last few weeks.
I’m 32 and have been fishing since just about the time I could walk, but only this year was drawn to try fly fishing. My father set me up with an old rod and reel that belonged to my grandfather and a box of flies my dad tied a number of years ago when his hands didn’t hurt so much. As soon as I started practice casting out on the lawn, with some of his instruction and after watching a bunch of videos on YouTube, I was hooked beyond all measure.
I’ve since been out on the water whenever possible, hooked a few panfish (my favorites!) and have seen a growing library of fishing and tying books appear on my shelves. I’ve even begun tying my own flies and can’t say I’ve ever been happier with my time on the water and the time in between! I’m totally in love with fly fishing and am looking forward to sharing it with my daughter once she’s a bit older.
I will say though that spending more time out and about seems to be coming with a price I didn’t intend. I live in and fish around Southwestern New Hampshire, and while there’s a whole lot of good folks here, there’s a few people who’s parents seem to have neglected teaching their kids about being polite. And I got to meet a few of these charming people this month.
I’ll spare most of the details, since it was mostly typical “I should fish right next to this guy!” behavior, but I’ll share my “favorite” incident because it was just jaw-dropping (at least to me).
I’m fishing off to the side of a boat landing, mostly working that pesky roll cast which just ain’t doin’ it, when Fella comes up with his dog. It’s a public park, but it was pretty deserted with the weather being cool and wet. It was also a weekday, but I won’t mention what I should have been doing that morning.
Without saying a thing, Fella throws a stick into the water which sails over my hat and the dog (a beautiful golden) does what comes naturally. Before I can even react, Fella shouts “Hey! Watch it [expletive deleted]! You’re going to hook my dog!”
I don’t know if it’s because my parents taught me right, but I just hauled in my line, broke down my rod and left without a word, all under the evil eye of Fella.
I wanted to say something, well, quite a lot of somethings actually, but figured that was just a sign I should give up on the roll cast for the day and try to get a Black Nosed Dace who’s bucktail wings won’t fall off. (They still did.)
Advice for other new fishermen? Stay mellow. It’s possible to educate some people on the points of etiquette we like to see on the water (I’ve had success with a couple of folks this month), but people like Fella just aren’t going to get it and there’s a lot of other water out there for us.
Tight lines from Keene!