Fisherman’s Tales

What do thirty fishermen do when they get together for a Social? Tell tales of course. Not the stereotypical fishermen’s exaggerations about monster fish or the ‘one that got away’ (although everyone does have a ‘one that got away’ story). 

No, they tell true, heart felt, funny, often hilarious stories about real life, fishing, more real life and more fishing. Real life is so much funnier than a joke. After all, don’t the funniest comedians just tell stories we can all relate to?

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The Monnow

I’m reflecting on another Monnow Social. There is the usual chat about the weather, rivers we fish, insects (and the lack of), leaky waders and our prospects of catching over the next few days.

The fishing also proves to be very good with encouraging numbers reported, particularly later in the afternoons when the dry fly sport picks up. I fish with Matt who is providing great company and whose outlook to fly fishing seems similar to mine. We fish two beats of the Monnow new to both of us and enjoy catching in beautiful surroundings. I also spend a few hours on the Honddu where one particular cast I make, whilst almost lying down in the river, results in a lovely little wild fish which will last long in the memory.

Saturday’s auction, once again generates some moments of hilarity and generosity and hopefully raises a pile of money too. Strange that on Sunday morning, whilst looking as if he can’t remember his own name, quick as a flash Patrick is able to tell me the cash I’ve just handed him is a fiver short! A true professional.

This year though it’s the tale telling which emerges whenever a few of us gather, that I’ll particularly remember.

The river angler who puts his life jacket on under his vest and then can’t get his arms around to reach any zips when it auto inflates on the bank. Or the guide who breaks three of his own rods closing his own car door. The image of swinging over the river on a rope swing, only to get stuck in the middle with trousers heading south. I’ll certainly not forget the technique required to “czech nymph a salmon” in a hurry and I doubt I’ll ever accumulate enough fishing wisdom to park a chair by the bank and have the trout come to me!

It’s the banter with people who share a passion for fly fishing that makes the Social so much fun. Great to catch up with some friends and make a few new ones.

At the risk of sounding morbid, there are adverts on the telly telling me (to avoid leaving my family with the ‘burden’) I should start planning for my demise. Although hopefully it will be some time away, I was thinking perhaps a humanist ceremony, with maybe a bit of Radiohead playing in the background. After this weekend, I have another choice and should now consider the real possibility of going out like a viking.

The thought of being floated down river strapped to the nearest log whilst drunken fly anglers try to hit me with a flaming arrow has a growing appeal.

As they say, you probably had to be there…

Mr Notherone

 

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