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Ronan's report


Friday December 4th, 2009

Where was it that you started? Where was the place that you took you first cast? Saw that first rise? Hooked your first fish?

For me it was a small stream called Fales River, in Nova Scotia's Annapolis Valley. I was about 10 years old at the time and already had a fair number of trout on the Nova Scotia classic, bait hook, worms and a red and white bobber. This mid June evening though I went armed with a Daiwa silver series glass rod, and Shakespear Alpha reel, with a sky blue Zephyr fly-line, and a few flies in my pocket.

I arrived shortly after supper probably about 7 PM, it was a sunny evening, but the pool where I would cast the fly lay in shadows. Standing directly across from the main pool, with a bit of effort I cast the fly at the top of the top pool, the fly began to drift…drift...drift… Almost to the center of the pool… Splash!

Reel up the slack (just like Lee Wulff showed in "The Atlantic Salmon"). Bring the fish ashore. Practically diving into the water I land it. An 11 inch brook trout. "Got to find a crotched stick!" Out comes the jackknife. Cut an alder from the bank to hang the fish on.

"Got to try again" With much effort after battling a bad case of leg shake I managed another cast up to the same position. The white and brown hackled "Renegade" began to drift…drift...drift…Splash! Another trout, this time it's a 10 incher. Wow! I rushed home with the fish.

As came in the house full of excitement, I was greeted by my father saying "why didn't you stay longer? The fishing would have probably gotten better toward dusk" "Naw" I said "they were enough".

I really don't now were the fascination came from, but I have always been allured by flies. My father had an old broken fly rod around but not really any other gear. He hardly fished, at least when I was growing up. There was a short time when our family lived in Prince Edward Island (where I was born) that he fished a lot, but mainly bait, and he fished because there were a lot of fish to catch.

It was the flies! Flies simply held me captivated as a child. I remember being in craft or general stores when I was young and seeing fly-tying materials, or flies and being locked in to them. The names of flies I think had a big part to play in the fascination. There was almost a mystical attraction of the fly patterns and their names: Silver Tip, White Ghost, Silver Doctor, were the ones I remember that got me excited. It was like potential energy or something. Who new what would happen when one of those flies were unleashed?

My first flies were tied on straight eyed kirby hooks, held by hand, and were nothing more than sewing thread and feathers from my mother pillows tied in. (the feather stems always protruded from the corners of the pillows so you could "pluck"). I started tying flies before I actually had a fly rod. For most people it the other way around. I started fishing dries with a bobber, and wets with split shot, on a closed face spinning reel, long before I ever had a fly rod. I only ever caught minnows this way (dace & chub), never any trout. Once I got the Daiwa rod fly rod though things changed, then I was cooking...

This past summer I had the opportunity to return the Fales River and fish it again. It was the middle of summer and the water was fairly low, but it was still nice just to get back, cast a fly over the same pools I started fly fishing, and see that there are some indicators that there are still some fish in the system.

Where was your beginning?

Cheers,
Dave


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