Flyfishers' Journal - Summer 2020 - Flyfishers' Club
←
→
Page content transcription
If your browser does not render page correctly, please read the page content below
Flyfishers’ Journal Summer 2020
Flyfishers’
Journal
The Journal of Patron: H
.R.H. The Prince of Wales
The Flyfishers’ Club KG, KT, OM, GCB
Summer 2020 President: David James
Volume 101 Editor: Theo Pike
Number 349 Secretary: Major Mark Jenkins
Contents
Editorial 3
Our New Club Secretary: Major Mark Jenkins 4
The Peter Lapsley Award 2019 5
Transatlantic Crossing by Bob Bradley 6
In Kite’s Country by Uffe Westerberg 13
In Kite’s Fishing Bag by Neil Patterson 22
The Next Generation by Peter McLeod 27
How We Used to Fish by Allan Hardy 34
The Don Catchment Rivers Trust:
Winner of the Prix Charles Ritz 2019 by Theo Pike and David Rowley 40
In My Fly Box: North Devonshire Wet Flies by Paul Gaskell 47
Howzat! by John Barclay 51
Letter from America: Streamers by Greg Belcamino 54
Not The Crown Jewels: The Greenwood Dry Fly Ground Pegs by John Knott 57
Club Notes & News 59
Library Notes 64
Curator’s Report 67
Book Reviews 70
Appreciations: Dr. Michael Dingle, Neville Clifford-Jones 75
Issued to Members biannually, the All communications for the Editor of the Journal
Flyfishers’ Journal is also available to non- should be sent to: Mells Cottage, Mill Lane,
members at £25 a year plus postage. Coleford BA3 5LR. Telephone 01373 814 741.
Email: theo@theopike.com
The copyright of all articles published in the
Journal is reserved by the Club on behalf of the Queries regarding subscriptions should be sent to:
contributors. Views expressed by contributors do The Secretary, The Flyfishers’ Club, 69 Brook Street,
not necessarily reflect those of the Club. London W1K 4ER. Telephone: 020 7629 5958.
Email: secretary@flyfishersclub.org.uk
Cover: Oliver Kite (Photo: via Uffe Westerberg) Website: www.flyfishersclub.org.uk
FLYFISHERS’ JOURNAL: SUMMER 2020 1
Editorial
A
q
s Peter Lapsley wrote in the Winter 2010 issue of the Flyfishers’ Journal, “changes
of Secretaries are major milestones in the Club’s history”, and so it is as we bid
farewell to Paul Varney on his retirement, and welcome our new Club Secretary,
Major Mark Jenkins.
Long-standing Members may recall that Paul had a hard act to follow when he
took over the Secretary’s role from the popular Commander Tim Boycott - but he
soon had the whole Club singing his praises. From the very start, it was clear that he
was blessed with an incredible memory for faces, and it was widely remarked upon
that no Member ever needed to be introduced to Paul for a second time, but would
always be warmly greeted by name, next time he visited the Club!
Paul served under six Presidents - Antony Pinsent, Anthony Edwards, David
Donnelly, Ed Davies, Paddy Laverty and David James – all of whom (in our current
President’s phrase) found him “their perfect wingman, and absolutely indispensable”.
Functions and meetings of all kinds were organised with unflappable efficiency, and
he suggested and implemented numerous improvements for the life and smooth
running of the Flyfishers’. Thanks to his considerable negotiating skills, and excellent
relationship with the Savile Club, he was also instrumental in helping us to secure our
accommodation by extending our lease until the middle of this century.
For everything he has done for the Club, we owe him a huge debt of gratitude, and
we are delighted that he has accepted Honorary Life Membership: rumour has it that
he is already being taught to tie flies by Charles Jardine. True to form, Paul has also
helped his successor with a generous handover period, and we offer Mark a very warm
welcome with a special introduction overleaf.
***
At the time of writing this Editorial, the Covid-19 pandemic is causing great
disruption to all of our lives – and this includes the life of the Club. But enforced physical
distancing can give us a new appreciation of the close connections and friendships that
flyfishing brings us, and I’d like to think that this issue of the Journal could help to
strengthen some of these bonds.
Getting to know flyfishers from other parts of the world, even if only from their writing
and photographs, broadens our own horizons – comparing techniques, and absorbing
new approaches and old traditions. So we find Uffe Westerberg and Neil Patterson
reflecting on Oliver Kite’s connections between Denmark and the English chalkstreams,
while Bob Bradley contrasts US and UK flyfishing histories; Greg Belcamino learns from
jig-nymphing Europeans to refine his north American streamer-fishing skills, and Peter
McLeod introduces his children to the joys of international fishing travel as a family. All of
which makes it even more intriguing to learn that Paul Gaskell, after years of researching
every last detail of the tradition of tenkara in the mountains of Japan, has now come home
and filled his fly boxes with patterns from a 19th century flyfisher in Devon…
Last but not least, we also celebrate the first UK award of the Prix Charles Ritz: do
turn to page 40 to read more about this important international conservation prize,
which has recently been won by the Don Catchment Rivers Trust.
Major Mark Jenkins, our new Club Secretary, with Paul Varney at his Farewell Drinks Reception Theo Pike
2 FLYFISHERS’ JOURNAL: SUMMER 2020 FLYFISHERS’ JOURNAL: SUMMER 2020 3
Our New Club Secretary: The Peter Lapsley Award 2019
Major Mark Jenkins q
M
q
ost Members of the Flyfishers’ Club will by now have had the opportunity
to meet our new Secretary, Major Mark Jenkins, who took over this most
T he Flyfishers’ Club is delighted to announce that the 6th annual Peter Lapsley
Award has been won by Neil Patterson for his article Sally Rand which appeared
in the Winter 2019 issue of the Journal.
In memory of our former Editor, Peter Lapsley, this award was created in 2014
as a literary prize for the best original article to appear in the Journal during the
important role from Paul Varney on 27th August last year, after an appropriate
previous year. It’s intended to encourage the high literary values that Peter himself
handover period during the summer holidays.
promoted in these pages, with criteria including originality, quality of writing,
Mark’s management skills derive from a military rather than a clubland
literary merit, and interest to our readership.
background. After university, and training at the Royal Military Academy Sandhurst,
This year’s Award Committee (the President, the Editor, the Librarian, the
he was commissioned into the Welsh Guards as a regular officer. He served for 13
Curator and the Secretary, as well as Peter Benn who represented his late father,
years, almost exclusively at regimental duty, including periods as Adjutant 1WG,
Tim Benn, winner of last year’s Award) agreed that Neil’s article was highly amusing
ADC to Field Marshal the Lord Guthrie, and finally as Officer Commanding the
and revealing (in all the best ways), and was a very popular winner.
Regiment’s corps d’elite - The Prince of Wales’s Company.
It was also felt to be highly appropriate because Neil was one of Peter’s closest
He resigned his commission in 2001, and spent the next two years travelling,
friends, who played a pivotal part in reviving the Journal after Peter’s sudden passing
and working in remote parts of the Russian Federation and Central Asia. He
in 2013. With typical generosity, Neil has also provided superbly evocative pen and
then taught Ethics and Philosophy at King’s School, Canterbury, for three years,
ink drawings to illustrate many other writers’ articles in recent issues.
before being recalled to duty by the Ministry of Defence with his old regiment,
As usual, this year’s winning article will be preserved for posterity in a special
the Welsh Guards, in Afghanistan in 2009 - serving on operations against enemy
folder in the Club, and arrangements will be made to present Neil with his certificate
insurgents, initially in Battle Group Headquarters, before taking on a liaison role in
and bottle of champagne as circumstances permit.
Headquarters, Task Force Helmand.
Between 2009 and 2010 he served on the staff of H.R.H. Prince Ghazi bin
Muhammed, and as special advisor and personal envoy to H.M. The King of Jordan.
Thereafter he worked for high risk oil exploration and gold mining industries across
remote parts of Africa and the Middle East, including Ethiopia, northern Nigeria,
Egypt, Kenya, Somalia and Yemen. He returned to the UK in 2018 on completion
of an assignment for Barrick Gold in Tanzania.
Mark now lives in London within three miles of 69 Brook Street, and enjoys
being able to walk to and from the Club every day. He also reveals that a particular
pleasure of his new job is walking past the case containing the rod which used
to belong to John Buchan - one of a series of writers who fired Mark’s youthful
imagination with descriptions of fishing on the Tweed, and encounters with less
salubrious characters including skilful local salmon poachers!
The Club is delighted that Mark has joined us as our Secretary. Those Members
who have not yet made his acquaintance are warmly encouraged to come into the
Club and meet him as soon as possible.
Neil Patterson holds his first landlocked salmon: a photo from his award-winning article Sally Rand
4 FLYFISHERS’ JOURNAL: SUMMER 2020 FLYFISHERS’ JOURNAL: SUMMER 2020 5
Transatlantic Crossing
by Bob Bradley
I
q
don’t take coffee, I take tea my dear, I like my toast done on one side, and
you can hear it in my accent when I talk, I’m an Englishman in New York. See me
walking down Fifth Avenue, walking cane down at my side, I take it everywhere I walk,
I’m an Englishman in… (Gordon Sumner)
I began fishing when I was six or seven, and in the intervening 50-odd years my
view of the sport has been shaped by many things. Of course by fish, but also by
achingly beautiful rivers and streams, by quiet lakes and by a myriad of images: of
men in tweed suits smoking pipes and casting dry flies on the Test or the Avon,
of Walker and Sheringham chasing carp on tranquil estate lakes, of highland glens
with roe and red deer and rivers in which run the king of fish, of sea-trout in the
twilight on those same rivers and of Sunday coach trips to so-called ‘coarse’ angling
competitions throughout middle England.
A catholic mixture, and in my view, all absolutely wonderful. As I sit writing this,
I am not a hundred yards from the Upper Avon in Wiltshire. It is late June: yesterday
I caught a wild brown trout of just over three pounds and this morning I sat and
watched trout and grayling finning on the gravel shallows tonight, when the heat has
gone from the sun, the trout will come to meet the last of this year’s Mayfly spinners; Across the Pond: a collage of American flyfishing tackle and sporting literature
I will sit and watch the lovely, noisy, slurping rises; I may cast at them. These things
have been my life of fishing for half a century, and along with mountains and steep
climbs they have made it a very happy life, but suddenly, at 60, I plan to move nearly
5,000 miles to spend a part of my year in Wyoming in the front range of the Rocky
Mountains, a spit from the Colorado border and a stiff drive to Montana or Idaho.
The prospect of finding new fishing there fills me with excitement and awe, whilst the
prospect of change adds a spice of apprehension. All this has made me think about
what I have known here in the UK for the last half-century or so, how things may
have evolved a little differently on the other side of the ‘Big Pond’, and what I shall
find there. So what are my present thoughts?
When it comes to the great outdoors, fishing in the backwoods, hunting and tales
of outright wilderness, little old ‘Blighty’ always seems a little parochial, even tame.
By contrast, America has us licked: their river names hint at the bold, pioneering past
and seem to shout bigness and Wild West. Think of the Snake, Roaring Fork, Eagle,
Gunnison, Frying Pan and Big Thompson rivers: these are waters calling for heroic
wading, white-knuckle drift boating, shore camps with open fires, coffee and beans.
Other, more exotic, river names are coloured by historic links with the older world:
Ausable, Cache La Poudre, Letort, Little Juniata, Gunpowder Falls, Willowemoc,
with aromas of the Old Colonial, and more than a whiff of the Spanish Main or the
French East India Company (even if the buccaneers are long gone) mixed with a
pinch of First Nations.
It’s not really surprising that so much American fishing literature also seems to have
a size and dimension that’s not found in most of our own fishing writing. The stories
of Maclean, McGuane and Gierach have a ‘woodsy’ dimension that ties them to the Wide open spaces: US river access laws offer almost unlimited potential for adventurous flyfishers
6 FLYFISHERS’ JOURNAL: SUMMER 2020 FLYFISHERS’ JOURNAL: SUMMER 2020 7
soil and the outright vastness of states like Montana, Idaho, Wyoming and Colorado. They invoke elements of frontier and pioneer, redolent of cowboys, cutting-horses, steers and branding irons. I can’t help thinking that none of these guys would be seen dead in a brick building. Surely they all conjured their words from wilderness ranches and log cabins with a gentle folk-rock soundtracks from Neil Young or maybe Bob Dylan in his 70s period. And all this is way before we get anywhere near the vast open spaces of Alaska, or British Columbia in Canada, with the obligatory moose, grizzly bears, floatplanes and guides toting Magnum 45s. Even a quiet visit to the seaside has been hijacked by Hemingway and McGuane, and re-packaged in tales of shark attacks, deep sea marlin, back-breaking hours in the fighting chair with dehydration and blurred vision, or skiff races off the Florida Keys to outrun rival bonefishermen. The overriding impression is that every self-respecting charter boatman carries more Jack Daniels than he does fuel and water, and that his six-shot Colt repeater is never far from hand in the wheelhouse. And when we turn to fishing flies, we see the same rugged toughness: what else could bounce down the boiling currents of the Snake or the Roaring Fork but a bushy Grey Wulff, an Elk Hair Caddis or a #8 Stimulator? Surely only Woolly Bugger, Butt Monkey, Stacked Blonde, Madam X or Barely Legal streamers could entice giant rainbows from the swirling run-off of the Madison, the North Platte or the Big Thompson? Could such typically English flies as Greenwell’s Glory, Tup’s Indispensable, Grey Duster or Kite’s Imperial ever register on the Richter scale of such rivers? In the way that many western US rivers embody the character of the wild frontier Drift boating the North Platte River - wilderness, geological time and nature in the raw – by comparison the rivers of the UK speak of a gentle parochialism that comes from every acre having been owned, brook trout in Labrador, showing these possibilities to a much wider audience: he was mapped and trodden for centuries. Everything is on a smaller scale: I think of the an encouraging pioneer. Remember that in the US, the Fisheries and Wildlife Service tiny streams which run off Exmoor, Dartmoor and some of the Welsh hills and the have been stocking trout into rivers and streams for well over a century and that, apart Lakeland fells. And the thought of slowly drifting down the middle or lower Test from some notable exceptions in the east, trout fishing in the US is available to all for catching the fat, stocked rainbows on streamers would be a dream to make the lips the cost of a state license (the Wyoming resident’s license for 2019 is $27, just £18). Lee curl up in a wry chuckle, though I doubt the keepers or riparian owners would find Wulff broadened the fishing horizon of the general public, and promoted inclusivity; any amusement in such a caper. As a picture of wildness, but not wilderness, the there was also a fair slice of commercialism in all this. upper reaches of some of the smaller chalkstreams like the Wylye or Ebble come to Wulff set up commercial Atlantic salmon fishing camps in Newfoundland in the 40s, mind, or perhaps the larger rivers of northern England and Scotland. and it is generally accepted that he developed and eventually marketed the first flyfishing For a dozen years or more, I lived on a salmon river in what I’ll call, for present vest - the universal garment that now, worn with breathable chest waders, and possibly purposes, the Scottish Highlands. But there was a problem, because I had then, as some form of baseball cap, provides the ‘uniform’ of the modern fly fisherman and, in I still do now, a serious Jones for the trout that swim in the English chalkstreams of some permutation or other, pretty much defines the breed worldwide. Those first fly Hampshire and Wiltshire, 500 miles or nine hours away. For years I did the drive vests appeared sometime around the 1940s and the earliest ones seem to have been between the two, and it was hell. But guess what, the drive between (say) Colorado and simply fishing shirts or jackets to which Wulff added, by hand-sewing, extra pockets in Jackson or West Yellowstone takes hours longer. Even on fishing road trips, the US has which to store his fly boxes. The really interesting question here is why he made these us licked. Scale and distance beat us every time, so much so that one of the best known vests in the first place, and the answer appears to be to aid mobility on the stream and of all American flyfishers, Lee Wulff, learned to fly, and did a huge amount of exploring to increase efficiency when making running changes to the fly and leader set-up. John and destination fishing by plane: in fact he eventually died, at the age of 86, probably Gierach says that when he’s river fishing he regards himself as a mobile fly-changing of a heart attack, at the controls of his own aircraft. Using a Piper Super Cub almost machine; that he can do this effectively is probably down to having his gear stashed in a as a taxi, he flew in to many waters in northern America and Canada in the late 1940s vest of the type first thought out by Lee Wulff. and early 1950s, and although probably not the first to do this style of fishing he was What this also means is that during the 1940s and 50s, fishing garments began a very early pioneer in this field, and he probably was the first to write and make films to evolve into those which we see so widely today. Even the chest waders, which about these exploits. As early as 1953, he was filming and broadcasting about fishing for in those days were mainly made from canvas, had a slightly loose-fit look – so in 8 FLYFISHERS’ JOURNAL: SUMMER 2020 FLYFISHERS’ JOURNAL: SUMMER 2020 9
the old photographs from these times they look uncannily like our modern Goretex breathables. Our characteristic ‘look’ was complete almost 80 years ago! Whereas flyfishing had been a sport practised for subsistence or fun, Wulff and his contemporaries were taking it forward to a professional level, publicising it with TV and radio, and designing gear that improved efficiency and fish-catching alike. So what was being worn in the UK, 70 or so years ago? Well, that was rather different, and looking at some of the flyfishing books of that period, the dress seems to reflect the type of people who were doing most of the flyfishing for trout at that time: in the main, the professional and upper classes. What we see is really an extension of the gentleman sportsman of the preceding 100 years. The style would have been suitable for a weekend in a country house, tweed abounds, and tackle is carried either in jacket pockets or possibly in a shoulder bag of the type still available from the likes of Hardy Bros. or Barbour. There seems no visible hint of ‘professionalism’ in terms of fishing, with everything conducted on a very sedate and gentlemanly level. But delving a little deeper, there is significant evidence that detailed catch records with numbers and weights were kept, and companies like Hardy Bros. were developing rods and lines with enhanced performance for organised distance and accuracy casting competitions (although I am not aware that the UK was, at that time, home to any formal casting clubs such as the Golden Gate in San Francisco). So there was pride, and I suspect more than a little competition, on this side of the Atlantic even then. Remember that, at that time, flyfishing for trout and grayling was practised almost exclusively on rivers, with perhaps some loch-style fishing tied in with an annual trip to Scotland or Ireland for salmon. River fishing meant the chalkstreams of southern A view of the North Platte River at Fremont Canyon: the home of some seriously large trout England, with all the exclusivity this might imply, and the spate rivers of northern England and Scotland. Perhaps the nearest we might have come to the Wulff-like The real sea change in English flyfishing for trout was signalled in 1904, when experience was the night train from Euston, splitting in the Borders and heading to the then Bristol Waterworks Company opened Blagdon Lake in Somerset as a Aberdeen and the Esks, the Dee and the Don, or charging northward to Inverness trout fishery. That this type of trout fishing was still the preserve of a relatively and the Beauly, Brora and Helmsdale. All of this would have meant travel, lodgings select few is confirmed by the writings of, for example, Plunkett Green and and of course the expense that went with that; it was not for everyone. Sheringham, neither of whom were exactly on their uppers. Yet what happened Maybe this view is slightly distorted by the prominent - perhaps artificially at Blagdon showed the way for water authorities all over England to open their prominent - stature of the English chalkstreams in our flyfishing history, which in reservoirs to flyfishermen 50 or so years later - and for the relatively modest itself appears to be due to the people who fished them and their backgrounds which, cost of a day-ticket, flyfishing for trout suddenly became available to a much by and large, were well-to-do and well educated. As such they were in a position not wider audience. This singularity seems to have transformed our sport, by making only to contemplate, analyse and often to evangelize about their fishing methods and stillwater flyfishing for stocked rainbow trout readily available. Indeed, this might theories, but also, and perhaps more significantly, to get them into print. The lofty be viewed as the point at which professionalism and commercialism seriously ideal of the dry fly cult as prescribed by Halford, and the counterculture of Skues entered our pastime, bringing as it did huge developments in fly lines which and the nymph, is a prime example of this: firmly rooted in the chalkstreams, and were designed to be cast long distances; lines with higher densities to find fish effectively elevating them to the epicentre of British flyfishing and creating something at greater depths; and more powerful rods to handle them. With this came of a storm in a teacup; heavens, there was still debate on this matter in the Club as organised flyfishing competitions of the type already seen in coarse fishing, late as 1938*. Reading some of the literature from this period, it is not difficult to national championships, team fishing and eventually professional flyfishers, conclude that chalkstream etiquette was the overriding feature of English flyfishing casting instructors and guides. Serendipitously these developments burgeoned at at that time. The reality was probably somewhat different, so that what happened in a time when many of our rivers were in severe decline after decades of industrial Hampshire and Wiltshire in the opening decades of the last century had very little pollution: the proximity of the reservoirs to the large conurbations to which they impact on fishing methods as practised in the Yorkshire Dales, in Cumberland and supplied water meant that they gave a ready and convenient alternative to rivers Westmorland, or in west Wales and Scotland. Here, flyfishing waters were often such as the Trent, Severn, Wharfe and Ribble. The result is that stillwater trout run by fishing associations which had a much more relaxed approach to rules and fishing has thrived in popularity in the UK, underpinning a massive business regulations, and therefore offered their members a much broader church. sector, and almost certainly boasting a greater following than river fishing. 10 FLYFISHERS’ JOURNAL: SUMMER 2020 FLYFISHERS’ JOURNAL: SUMMER 2020 11
I mentioned above that in the US the Fisheries and Wildlife Services stock both
rivers and stillwaters. With the cost of a state license being so low (often less than
In Kite’s Country
the cost of a day ticket on a decent UK stillwater) there is not a huge amount of cash by Uffe Westerberg
available for stocking. This seems to have made stock conservation a much more
prominent issue in the US than it has to date been in the UK. Catch and release,
barbless hooks, and Trout Unlimited, are all much more to the fore in the US. The
reality is that the cost of an annual state resident’s license doesn’t buy many stocked
trout, so catch and release is essential if the quality of the sport is to be maintained. I
q
’ve been told that not many photos exist of the great flyfisher Major Oliver
Kite, but I find this hard to believe. To start with, I have 50 unique photos of
Here in the UK, virtually all trout stocking is carried out privately and for Kite in my own collection, taken by two Danish flyfishers. More to the point,
commercial purposes. The section of the Upper Avon I referred to earlier is stocked he was arguably the best-known British flyfisher in the 1960s because of his TV
with brown trout, some of which are large: this is not a cheap enterprise. On many series In Kite’s Country, appearances in other TV programmes, two books about
such rivers, rods are allowed to keep fish, usually a brace, which will hopefully be of his innovative nymphing techniques, countless magazine articles and many, many
recent stocking, and releasing all wild fish is strongly encouraged. Whilst writing this, fishing friends. There should be loads of pictures, right?
I took a quick look at the catch returns for the 20 or so beats of the Salisbury club Checking my copy of the special year 2000 edition of Kite’s Nymph Fishing in
just downstream: I found only one brace of tagged stock fish taken for a rod effort Practice, I discovered some lovely photos of the author, but surprisingly few good
covering around five pages of logbook. So catch and release is with us, even in fisheries ones from his home waters in Hampshire and Wiltshire. A handful of the photos
that are ‘topped up’ now and again, and which have no mandatory C&R policy. But were in my collection too, no doubt having been supplied by my fellow Danish
where it is of greatest relevance is when there is no stocking. In such waters the role flyfisher Preben Torp Jacobsen, who contributed to a section of the book called
of organisations such as the Wild Trout Trust, essentially our own derivation of Trout Memories of Oliver Kite.
Unlimited, are of immense importance in conserving all aspects of the fishery. On Oliver Kite was clearly an extraordinary person who made a deep and lasting
our stillwaters, catch and release seems to be literally a mixed bag. Some waters sell impression on those who met him. Even today his name is revered, not least by
sporting tickets, whilst others insist that all fish are killed. A recent day on Blagdon me, having been regaled with Kite stories by my friend, the late Ove Nielsen.
left my boat partner and me with close on 50lbs of trout: the day out was perfect,
as were those rainbows when they came out of the smoker, but I would have been
happier to put at least some of those fish back. Perhaps Lee Wulff was right when he
wrote, almost 80 years ago, that ‘Game fish are too valuable to be caught only once’.
So these are the thoughts that have crossed my mind as I consider the prospect of
living, for a least part of the coming years, in the USA. Already my first visits have
resulted in the early impression that American fishing is more inclusive, that waters
are stocked and managed as a recreational resource for anyone who pays the state
license fee, and that efforts are made to facilitate the people’s use of these waters.
There seems a subtle difference between the conservation which is practised in the
US, which appears practical, helpful and encouraging to anglers, and the attempted
preservation, often of something already long lost, that is practised here in the UK,
with rivers used as field laboratories and studied as curiosities rather than natural
resources to be enjoyed. I have fished in the US before for short periods, but I suspect
that being there for longer, besides offering huge opportunity to explore new fishing,
will also colour some of these ideas differently and bring them a slightly different
flavour. We shall have to wait and see. Maybe I’ll write again and tell you…
*For an overview of the Halford/Skues debate see: Trout Fishing in Rivers, Greenhalgh,
M., 1987, pub. Witherby, London, chapter 1, page 13; for more detail see The Flyfishers,
Herd, A., 2019, pub. The Flyfishers Club, London, chapter 18, page 281. The Flyfishers’
Journal also reported the debate in great detail. For more on Lee Wulff’s adventures try
Bush Pilot Angler, pub. Down East Books (2000) or The Compleat Lee Wulff, pub.
Truman Talley Books NY, ed. Merwin (1989).
Kite holding court at the River Soenderup
12 FLYFISHERS’ JOURNAL: SUMMER 2020 FLYFISHERS’ JOURNAL: SUMMER 2020 13
I take pride in the fact that Kite fished my two home waters in Denmark, and I have Visiting Veniard’s and the Flyfishers’ Club
been fortunate to fish reaches of the River Wylye which he also fished, cut weed in
and wrote about. We had a wonderful crossing from Esbjerg on M/S England. After arrival in Harwich
So I thought that perhaps other flyfishers would like to see ‘my’ photos of Kite, we went straight to London. Fortunately, it was a Sunday with little traffic on the roads,
which have never been published before. Here they are - along with a tale of two because Preben wasn’t used to left hand side driving.
Danes in Kite’s country. On Monday we visited E. Veniard which my company represented in Denmark. While
*** I took care of my business, Preben browsed the premises and had a chat with John Veniard.
On 15th May 1965 Ove Nielsen and Preben Torp Jacobsen, two Danish A bit of a disappointment, as John could be quite reserved to people he didn’t know.
flyfishers, set off for the chalkstreams of southern England. Not that extraordinary, The next day we were to meet Oliver Kite outside the Whitehall Theatre at precisely
you may think, but they had been invited by Oliver Kite, and would meet and fish 11.45am. What a difference to see him in city clothes, wearing a striped suit with a rose
with other prominent British flyfishers of the day. From Wessex they would go west in his buttonhole. We proceeded to the Flyfishers’ Club, where we were received by the
to visit Lionel and Mollie Sweet on the Usk, before heading north to the Dove and Secretary, Desmond Berry. It was interesting to see the collections of the Club, especially
the Derbyshire Wye. the Library.
‘Two anglophile flyfishers on a pilgrimage’, as they themselves called it.
Preben Torp Jacobsen - then a major figure in the international flyfishing world The Itchen at Abbott’s Barton with John Goddard
- wrote about this pilgrimage in Memories of Oliver Kite. This edition also includes After lunch in the Flyfishers’ Club we headed for Winchester. East of the city I had my
the programme Kite had arranged for Preben and Ove, which suggests that the first sight of the wonderful River Itchen with its crystal-clear water. I have often recalled
visit must have been of quite a significance. Ove mentioned this visit very briefly that moment and the promise I made to my myself: “I want to come back”. Luckily, I
in an article for the Flyfishers’ Journal (Fishing with Oliver Kite, Summer 2006) but did; as a matter of fact, many times.
on that occasion he was more interested in telling about Kite’s visit to Denmark in In Winchester we visited the cathedral to see the tombs of King Canute and Izaak
1964, and how and why they had got into contact. Walton, and the stained-glass memorial to Walton. We couldn’t have started our
Amusingly, both Ove and Preben later claimed to have written the opening letter pilgrimage in a more sacred place.
to Oliver Kite in August 1963, when the Danes confronted the Major over his use
of the Bare Hook Nymph and the induced take. Wasn’t that just a mini-spoon, they
asked teasingly?
In fact, it was Ove who typed that first letter (I have a copy of it), and he got
a long and friendly reply. The continued correspondence eventually resulted in
Kite’s visit to Denmark the following year, where he filmed some programmes for
Southern Television, and fished some of the best trout and grayling rivers in Jutland
with Ove and Preben. His articles about that expedition can be found in Trout and
Salmon (December 1964 and January 1965).
The visit was a success: a friendship had been established, and Kite invited Ove
and Preben to spend some time with him on the English chalkstreams, from 18th to
23rd May 1965. Ove wrote quite extensively about the pilgrimage for his memoirs
Sportsfiskerliv (My Life in Fishing), which I later helped to edit for publication in
2017. His account is interesting and amusing, but what made the trip really special
was the pictures: however, when Ove died in 2014, and I inherited his meticulously-
catalogued library of fishing photos, I discovered that these 151 slides were missing.
I asked his widow, his son and our mutual friend Steen Ellemose, but to no avail,
and we had to publish the chapter about the pilgrimage with just a few pictures.
Then, in the spring of 2018, Steen sent me an email with the headline: ‘Found’.
And yes, clearing out his attic, he had indeed found the box with the missing
slides. There were photos of all the people Ove and Preben had met that summer in
England, and some were really good.
Now that we have all this background, let’s go back to May 1965, and I’ll leave
it to Ove to tell the story. Kite with Ove Nielsen and Preben Torp Jacobsen at Abbott’s Barton (photo probably taken by
*** John Goddard)
14 FLYFISHERS’ JOURNAL: SUMMER 2020 FLYFISHERS’ JOURNAL: SUMMER 2020 15
Kite had arranged for us to visit G.E.M. Skues’ old water, Abbott’s Barton on the
Itchen. It was now managed by the Piscatorial Society and we would be the guests of
John Goddard. It was fascinating to see the river and the system of carriers which we had
read about without really understanding their purpose. The evening was rather cold, so
there were very few insects. I got a ½ lb trout. That was the total catch.
From Abbott’s Barton, Kite drove us at full speed along winding roads to the Avon
valley, where we would stay at the Wheatsheaf Inn at Figheldean, managed by the
Wards, a very friendly couple.
The Bourne
We departed at 9am with a stop on the way in Andover to buy some tobacco. I found
out that it was very difficult to get good tobacco outside of London, especially Dunhill.
Hurstbourne Priors was situated in a beautiful little valley with big fields, old solitary
trees, and hedges along the roads. In the valley flowed the wonderful Bourne, a tributary of
the Test made famous in Where the Bright Waters Meet, the lovely book by Plunket Greene.
Just upstream of the Iron Bridge, we met our host, Major Frank Schwind, at a small
fishing hut. Schwind was a friendly man with two black Labradors which followed in his
footsteps, and were ready to retrieve fish if necessary. Kite’s cameraman showed up too, as
they were to record an episode of his weekly TV programme, In Kite’s Country, for Southern
Television. We were told that he might issue a few directions to us so they could film the
right situations.
We started fishing at Broad Water: the river was very low, but we could easily see many Kite stalking fish for the camera at Sawmill Shallows on the Bourne
trout in the clear water. Very few fish were rising, and they were very shy. We took turns,
and before long Preben had a trout, and I got one just upstream of the Iron Bridge. Then
it was lunch time with the usual ritual: an Aalborg Akvavit. After lunch Preben – always Officers’ Fishery Association on the Avon
the vet – spotted a big bull in a field next to the fishing hut. He took a look at it with Kite On Wednesday Preben and I fished the Avon on our own as Kite had gone to
but very soon the bull sounded an ominous snort and they had to make a fast retreat. Southampton to edit the films and record the soundtrack. For us it was a very comfortable
In the afternoon we started fishing at the Sawmill Shallows. An amazing piece of water: and peaceful day.
trees on both sides, quite low, and loads of fish. Kite borrowed my rod and netted a pretty The river had a good flow, clear as crystal with a prolific insect life, and hence a good
trout weighing a little under 2lbs. I had several trout taking my nymph without hooking stock of trout and grayling. We started at Figheldean Bridge, and fished up to Gunville Pool;
them. Upstream of the sawmill, the fishing got better. I had a rise but was too slow setting it was just wonderful. Figheldean Shallows was almost grown over with ranunculus, and
the hook. At the second try it came again and I hooked it in the tail. A dramatic fight through the narrow channels you could see every stone on the bottom through 1½ or two
followed, but I got it in the net at last. meters of water. Few fish were active but I got one on a PT nymph, after catching a glimpse
Upstream of a low weir, a fine trout was lying in deeper water and actively feeding. It of the trout in one of the narrow channels. Lunch was at Tank Crossing B, with coffee made
took my nymph at the first cast and was a pretty fish weighing 1½lbs. The next one was on the last of our Danish water, although we could just as well have used Avon water.
under a tree: a tricky cast, but when the nymph was delivered in the right spot, the trout I had one trout in the afternoon, of nearly 2lbs. I was almost beside the trout when I
took it without hesitation. That fish cost me a long rift in my hip boots because of some caught sight of it, and had to move carefully downstream to get into casting position. It took
nasty, barbed wire I had to cross to land it. I had a couple more trout up at Chapmansford, my Tup’s the first time the fly passed over it. The Avon had a lot of fine fish, but it was a
where the Bourne was very much like my own River Binderup: not very big, and no trees challenge. You had to be very careful with every detail of your approach.
along the banks. At 6.30pm that evening, Kite had arranged a small reception for the flyfishers of the
The day’s bag was six fish. On our way back to Figheldean, we stopped at a pub owned Avon Valley. We met Colonel Allan Lane, Dr. Jones, Canon Finch and some of the members
by one of Kite’s friends who was also a narrator for television. I offered him one of my trout of the Officers’ Fishery Association. The atmosphere was very warm with a lot of fun and
and was later told that he had shown it to the guests all evening. The rest of my catch I gave friendly leg-pulling, like Kite’s claim that in Denmark we don’t fish for salmon but shoot
to Mrs Ward. We had dinner with Oliver and his wife and daughter in their cosy White them. Later we had a formal, traditional dinner in the Officers’ Mess. It came to a rather
Owl Cottage - a very pleasant evening which ended with a pint at the Wheatsheaf Inn in abrupt end: the British apparently don’t stay for very long, but we made up for that with a
the company of the Wards and my new special friend, their dog Toby. couple of pints at the Wheatsheaf Inn with the Wards.
16 FLYFISHERS’ JOURNAL: SUMMER 2020 FLYFISHERS’ JOURNAL: SUMMER 2020 17After lunch some Iron Blue Duns began to hatch, and also a few Mayflies. The fish
became more and more active and we each had two trout, all around 1.5lbs.
The Houghton Club with head keeper Mick Lunn
As often happens, we had to stop when the fishing was at its best. We went to
Stockbridge to meet Mick Lunn, the grandson of William James Lunn, whose fame was
secured by the book River Keeper by J. W. Hills and through dry flies like the Lunn’s
Particular and Houghton Ruby. Mick, like his father and grandfather, was head keeper
at the Houghton Club, the oldest fishing club in the UK.
Besides river keeping, Mick Lunn was in charge of the Club’s production of stock trout.
Unfortunately, the natural supply of young trout was no longer sufficient, so some 2,000
brown trout and rainbow trout were stocked every year in the river. Around 1,700 of them
were caught during the season. It was pure put and take, but when you considered that
most members were fairly elderly, preferred fishing while standing and paid a very high
subscription, it was easy to understand that there must be fish to be caught.
Mick Lunn followed us to the Grosvenor Hotel, the Houghton Club’s residence since
its foundation in 1822. They had refrigerators to store members’ catches, with rooms for
boots and clothes, and rods hanging on the walls in the staircase. Kite had instructed
us to wear jackets for the occasion, and we were received by the secretary, Commander
V.J. Robinson, and a couple of members in a typical club room with big fish on display.
Over a couple of drinks we were told about the club’s story. From day one, the club
Ove Nielsen and Oliver Kite on the Test at Bossington has had a journal with all catches registered, and we were allowed to browse some of
the oldest journals. Some pages contained not just catch statistics, but also beautiful
drawings which clearly demonstrated that there had been some fine artists among the
The River Test at Bossington club’s members. The names in the pages said everything: it was a Who’s Who of British
Next morning at 8.30 Kite arrived at the inn and we followed him as best as we flyfishing and history. Our interesting visit was complete when we bumped into Mick
could across the military training grounds on Salisbury Plain. The whole area around Lunn’s father on the way out of the Grosvenor, and had a pint with him in the bar.
the Avon was a big army camp with several barracks. The visit to the Houghton Club confirmed us in our stated purpose in visiting the
Our destination for the day was the Test at Bossington between Stockbridge and UK: to see the places we had read about, to fish the famous rivers and to walk in the
Romsey. At the fishing hut we were met by the head keeper, Reginald Dade, who briefed footsteps of our flyfishing forefathers. To fish historic waters really gives your fishing an
us on the fishery. We were to fish Beat 1 which stretched about a mile downstream from extra perspective, and transforms it into a cultural experience.
the fishing hut. Near the hut, a bridge crossed the river, which gave Oliver and me a fine
opportunity to study which insects were on the surface. Meeting Frank Sawyer
The weather was fine with sunshine and a light breeze from the south. Preben and I
went all the way to the bottom end, and spent all morning patrolling the water. Just a On Friday morning we met Frank Sawyer, who lived just across the road from Oliver
few fish were rising and they ignored our dry flies, which were the only allowed method. Kite. Sawyer was the keeper for the Officers’ Fishing Association from 1928 to 1980.
The water was gin clear and, in some places, three to four metres deep. It was a fantastic He was an authority on mayflies and had written a couple of interesting books about
sight to watch a fish rising from the bottom and inspect what was on the surface. his life as a river keeper, as well as his own special technique, the Netheravon style of
The Test at Bossington ran through a wide valley with reeds and nettles and a few nymph fishing. His PT (Pheasant’s Tail) nymph is known all over the world and he was
scattered trees on the banks. The river itself had very few meanders; definitely not the a fantastic flyfisher.
most charming landscape. A path was mowed along the river on the inside of a protective We had a much too short a talk with him before going to see one of his ongoing
river margin. It looked a bit too well trimmed, but if you pay a high price for your projects. Upstream of Netheravon he had dug a couple of ponds with the intention of
fishing you probably don’t want to fight your way through reeds and nettles. Despite the stocking them and creating a put and take fishery to take some of the pressure off the
paths the fishing itself was difficult; the fish were wary, and with the growth of reeds and Avon, where there was a daily rod limit. Sawyer was indeed a personality - as introvert
nettles you had to have a high back cast. That is of course not always an easy thing with as Kite was extrovert.
a good trout rising just in front of you.
18 FLYFISHERS’ JOURNAL: SUMMER 2020 FLYFISHERS’ JOURNAL: SUMMER 2020 19Frank Sawyer and Preben Torp Jacobsen Wing Commander Coke’s reach on the Wylye at Heytesbury with Kite in the background
The Wylye Throughout their lives, Ove and Preben would return to the chalkstreams
frequently, making many good friends and becoming Members of the Flyfishers’
Our last fishing day in ‘Kite’s Country’ was on the River Wylye at Heytesbury as guests Club. They would never meet or fish with Oliver Kite again, but he had made
of Wing Commander Anthony Coke. The Wylye was a magnificent little chalk stream an enormous impression on them with his intelligence, knowledge, humour,
with chalk and gravel patches on its bottom and a beautiful growth of ranunculus. The hospitality, energy and eccentric ways, and his exceptional skills as a flyfisher.
river was narrow, five to six metres, with depths varying from 25 to 100 centimeters. It As Ove would tell me many years later: “Sometimes, while fishing, I still get the
held a fine stock of brown trout and an enormous amount of grayling. feeling that Oliver is walking next to me”. And Preben, who for a generation had
As the grayling had recently spawned, they were difficult to tempt, but Preben and been a matching-the-hatch perfectionist, told me in a filmed conversation with
I caught some nice trout on a small Iron Blue Dun. We cast to fish lying in the least Ove about all things flyfishing in general and Oliver Kite in particular, that Kite
accessible places where they would be less on guard. had been right: “It’s the general impression and the presentation of the fly that really
Kite caught several grayling on his Bare Hook Nymph. Normally, when fishing with a matter”.
nymph, you have spotted the fish beforehand and see when it takes the fly, either directly
or because the leader moves. On this day, we were not able to do that because the wind
created ripples on the surface. Nevertheless, Kite hooked fish. He literally sensed when the
fish took his fly, and it was no coincidence that he got a fish on almost every cast when
he had located a shoal of grayling. It was amazing to watch.
I am sure we have all had that experience while fishing - the sensation that ‘a fish has
just taken my nymph’. No doubt it’s a sense that can be nurtured, as it is a reaction to
some of the signals we get but aren’t always conscious of.
It’s hard for me to name the most beautiful and best river I have fished, but the Wylye
will always be high on my list.
***
20 FLYFISHERS’ JOURNAL: SUMMER 2020 FLYFISHERS’ JOURNAL: SUMMER 2020 21In Kite’s Fishing Bag
by Neil Patterson
F
q
rank Sawyer, yes. Oliver Kite, no. I never met him. But I made acquaintance with
the bag where he kept his fly-tying kit - with ‘O. Kite’ written in biro on the inside
of the flap.
This small, front-pocketed canvas satchel wasn’t as fascinating as meeting the man
himself, of course (it was empty - nothing to spark off an interesting conversation).
But the fact that it accompanied Kite on fishing forays had me standing to attention
and saluting, hoping interesting things might exude and change my flyfishing life.
But no Mount Sinai revelations. There simply wasn’t time. I had only possessed it for
few seconds… before I gave it away.
Its history is vague. Back in the 60s, it was given to Jim Brown, the river keeper
on the beat I fish, down the track from my home. Maybe in gratitude; Kite had
perhaps been a guest there. I know he fished downriver at Thatcham, and upriver
on the Hungerford Town Water. I also know he fished with a “Gascon” in “brown
rubber boots”, a Monsieur Houlez-Basset who fished my beat. Maybe Kite left it there.
Whatever the reason, Jim’s son, Jackie, ended up with it.
Jackie knew I was a fan of Kite and gave me the bag one lunchtime when we were
fishing together at Damerham Lakes with John Goddard. Knowing that Goddard
(sitting next to me) was a good friend of Kite, I suggested he was the man who should
have it.
“OK if I give O.K.’s bag to J.G.?” I remember J.B. saying. With that, it slipped out
of my hands into Goddard’s, never to been seen - nor touched again.
It was then that the lifeless bag came to life. It got Goddard talking about his times
with Kite, answering many of the questions Kite left unanswered. In particular, tying
instructions he failed to give for some of the flies he mentions in his two books.
Kite originated very few flies. Out of the dozen he mentions, only nine can claim
to be his design. Only for six does he give clear tying instructions. Presuming he tied
up all the flies in his books, what materials did he carry around in that small bag now
sitting there next to Goddard? I decided to… imagine.
Fishing the Normandy chalkstreams, Kite greatly admired French fishermen
and fly-tyers. In particular, A.-J. Gros, who shook his flyfishing counterparts by
announcing “Faithful imitation of nature is illusory and useless ... it is sufficient to dispose
of a few general purpose patterns.” No surprise Kite made do with only a handful of
patterns tied using a handful of materials, requiring minimum hand movements.
The Major didn’t complicate matters. A military man, his kit contained only the
bare essentials, stored away in an orderly fashion - a fly-tying kit on parade.
On bare essentials, when cataloguing the materials he put into service, top of the
list is “a reel of fine copper wire” of “gossamer fineness… cannibalised from unserviceable
transformers” . With this he tied the fly that caught him more fish than any other, the
most minimalist fly of all time, his Bare Hook Nymph.
But let’s start with the tools he packed away.
His vice was from Veniard’s. The same vice I’ve used since I first started tying flies, Oliver Kite at work with his fly-tying tackle bag
22 FLYFISHERS’ JOURNAL: SUMMER 2020 FLYFISHERS’ JOURNAL: SUMMER 2020 23still in full working order. With a simple twist head, a black base and an unshakable
screw-on clamp, this is the Land Rover of vices that clamps onto almost anything.
Kite fastened it onto a whole range of outdoor features, including “an old plough”.
Kite says he only packed “good quality hooks with sharp, penetrating points and
efficient barbs”, preferably down-eyed Limerick hooks. Any sign of rust or barb
damage, “I scrap it”. Sizes he gives in old-style #1 and #0s.
He packed “hackle pliers, a razor blade, a dubbing needle” and a “tin of silks”.
Small wooden reels of brown, black - and purple for his best-known dry fly. For
“miscellaneous flies” he packed white, red, primrose and golden olive.
Furs and feathers? Kite tells us he carried around “some pheasant tail feathers, a few
cock’s necks, a few heron, goose and rook primaries and some peacock herls”. Tucked away
was “a box of miscellaneous feathers and another of dubbing furs”.
So what materials did he pack to whip up his fighting selection?
Certainly a #0 hook - and copper wire to “build up the structural outline” of his
Bare Hook Nymph. This fly caught him the most fish - 99 to the Imperial’s 88 in
the 1967 season - but the Imperial is the dry fly he wrote about the most. The fly he
put up “whatever duns are on the water, be they olives, iron blues, blue-winged-olives”,
adding, uncharacteristically vaguely, “anything else.” A photograph of this fly tied by
himself (126A) is featured in Goddard’s Trout Fly Recognition – to which he directed
his readers for tying instructions.
The hackle and whisks, honey dun; body, heron primary herls doubled and
redoubled to form the thorax. (An addition I question. Why add a feature a trout
looking up can’t see?) The combination of purple tying silk and gold wire ribbing was Bare Hook Nymphs
the old Imperial colours.
The simplest of dry flies - tied with black silk, black ostrich herls and a palmered
black cock hackle - his Hawthorn-fly gets a generous mention. For his ‘coupled’
mating Hawthorn the hackles are from a reddish-black cock cape. An “old friend” ran
away it with when he took his fly-tying kit to a Christmas bazaar!
His Mayfly represents the hatched-out dun. The hook, a #4; the silk, brown; a
Rhode Island Red, in front and a cream cock behind; whisks, pheasant tail herls;
body, dubbed mink fur ribbed with gold wire.
In an article entitled ‘Livening up the Dry Fly’, he gives the dressing for a pattern he
liked to cast into “the chilly April breeze”. Slow to become airborne, the Sepia Dun
“furrows the surface”. Kite’s imitation has long-flued hackles to give a “deliberately-
imparted slight surface drag”. Using brown silk, Kite tied blackish tails on a #1 hook, a
gold wire-ribbed body of undyed heron primary herls with his signature thorax. The
hackle, black cock with a brownish shade.
His Black Gnat is scant of tying details. Did he use those “rook primaries” as the
body? He makes no mention of their application elsewhere. Other clues?
In an article, he attributes his Black Gnat pattern to Frank Sawyer, river keeper on
the Officers’ Water on the Avon where Kite fished. Kite dressed it “with hackles slightly
tinged with red” given to him by his Danish friend, Preben Torp Jacobsen, hackles
“deliberately introduced by breeders to produce a bit of a sparkle”. The same cape that
got nicked?
From now on, we have to rely on those who fished with Kite for tying details.
Friends who got to peek into his fly-box - and that fly-tying bag. Along with John
Goddard, another of Kite’s friends was Donald Overfield. It’s thanks to him we have Kite’s Imperial
24 FLYFISHERS’ JOURNAL: SUMMER 2020 FLYFISHERS’ JOURNAL: SUMMER 2020 25the recipe for a fly that crops up throughout his writings.
The Red Pheasant Tail Spinner was originated by Frank Sawyer, inspired, experts The Next Generation
contest, by Skues who wrote about a fly of similar design and name. A fly Kite fished by Peter McLeod
when rusty-red bodied olives lay spent on the water. The silk, red; the tail, white or
cream; the body, pheasant tail fibres wound to behind the eye where a thorax is built;
the hackle, a dark Rhode Island Red cock.
Bags of room for more? Indeed.
Overfield and Goddard give the tyings of two other flies Kite didn’t describe in I
q
recently embarked on a flyfishing adventure… and not quite the normal adventure
I have on flyfishing trips. This one brought a whole new set of challenges, many of
detail. The first, his Apricot Spinner tied on a #14 with golden olive silk; pale yellow which I’d never encountered before. No, it wasn’t getting into some far-flung area of
tails; a body of primary herls dyed apricot, redoubled to form a thorax; the hackle, the globe, or some whole area of technique I wasn’t familiar with. I’ve been trying to
a pale honey dun. The second, his Pale Evening Dun. Goddard and Overfield agree ascertain what it is I really love about our sport of flyfishing, and I think I have it. It’s
that Kite tied this artificial on #15 with white silk; tail, cream cock; body, grey goose sharing knowledge. Like any passion you have - learning new and exciting techniques,
primary herls, redoubled to form a thorax; the hackle, cream cock. travelling to new places to fish - it’s sharing that knowledge with others that gives
Kite’s Sedge hatches out every now again in his writings. A fly he enjoyed playing me such satisfaction. Last year it dawned on me that the ones I needed to share that
“the old shuttering trick”, watching fish “barging across” to snap at it. He indicates that knowledge with most are the next generation and those closest to me.... my own
it should float high, the hackle well-endowed. What hackle? children.
Overfield suggests a dark red cock hackle, palmered down a pheasant tail herl The number of times they’ve watched me pack my gear as I set off on another
body. Perhaps he spotted this sedge in that “little pink nymph box” given to Kite by his flyfishing expedition is countless, always accompanied by “No, I’m sorry, you can’t come
wife. A screw-top ointment container that “once held face cream,” Kite writes. yet – you’re too young”. But last year, once they’d reached the ages of seven and ten, I
Other flies with his name attached to them? realised that the answer should be “Yes”.
The Daily Dun, originated by Eric Horsfall Turner. Impressed by its effectiveness, Obviously I’ve already taken them fishing many times here in the UK, on rivers and
Kite named it the Daily Dun, the fur coming from rabbits owned by the woman who lakes, and both kids have always been keen. I’ve always been very careful not to push
was the ‘daily’ in the Horfall’s household. To tie this, Kite would have packed mallard fishing on them, or make them stay longer than they really wanted, in case it had a
breast feathers, for wings - and angora rabbit fur dyed yellow. negative effect. But I’d never yet taken them on a full-on international fishing trip, and
The Light Ollie was created by Preben Torp Jacobsen. Similar to the Imperial, Kite now I figured that the time was right. Thomas, my eldest, has always been fascinated
needed to pack heron herls dyed in picric acid and a blue dun hackle. with tales of bonefish and saltwater species, and as they both thrive in that tropical
Kite mentions “my March Brown”, but no pattern is given. He tells us he tied one environment, this seemed to be the best option – especially since my wife Elisabeth
up in the boot of his car to catch fish in the Usk. Fishing in France, he bit the tail off has always loved bonefishing.
one to make a nymph. The next question was: where? Helping people choose fishing holidays is what I
Kite’s Favourite is a sea-trout fly Reg Righyni gave to Kite when fishing the River do on a daily basis, so you’d have thought this would be an easy decision, but it did
Lune. The materials needing to be bagged are a yellowish hackle, olive wool, and take some consideration. Then it hit me that the obvious choice was Turneffe Atoll in
silver wire ribbing. Kite also tied up a no-name sea-trout fly of his own with materials Belize: the place I’d caught my first bonefish with my family, a trip I’ve never forgotten.
“I had brought with me”. Setting up his “vice on my car boot”, Kite “wired the hook” and It would complete the circle. I began making arrangements.
“camouflaged the bright metal with an inch or two” of “a bit of old darning wool of some One autumn evening, I switched off the kids’ usual YouTube viewing, flipped to
non-descript shade”, adding “a thorax of reindeer-hair.” Aardvark McLeod’s YouTube channel, and started a video of Turneffe Flats Lodge.
Finally, a Norwegian fly-tying book gives mention to an Oliver Kite Nymph with The children watched the whole thing through, captivated by the location, beaches,
a cream dubbing body, tied and ribbed with a grey thread. bonefishing and running around in speed boats. When the questions subsided, I hit
So, the tote: 1 vice, 1 tin of tools, 1 tin of hooks, 1 tin of silks and wires. Add to them with the news that we’d be going there in August, and a small riot of excitement
this the furs and feathers mentioned above. Barely two dozen items all in. All in that ensued.
little bag. This was the reaction I’d hoped for, and I started laying out a programme of
Are we done? Nearly, for along with his fly-tying bag, Kite took with him another preparation, casting practice and kit acquisition. Over the next six months, a continuous
reciprocal of equal importance: his ‘tuck basket’. stream of fishing tackle began to fill the sitting room. I acquired a Hardy Demon
Contents: a tin of sardines, a flagon of cool ale, China tea, the ingredients to make Saltwater 7-weight set up for each of the children, and we would spend a few hours on
Welsh cakes on his “grandmother’s old iron bakestone” over a “fragrant driftwood” fire, a Sunday practicing casting in the park. Slowly but surely, they developed reasonable
cake, the occasional dram, a “nice foil of a choice prawn curry” ... and trifle. casting skills, with Thomas beginning to double-haul after studying Lefty Kreh’s Longer
For the Major, minor details were important, in more ways than one. Fly Casting. I embellished this by grabbing the end of the line and mimicking bonefish
runs, so they’d feel comfortable with pressure, retrieving line, and even avoiding
26 FLYFISHERS’ JOURNAL: SUMMER 2020 FLYFISHERS’ JOURNAL: SUMMER 2020 27You can also read
