Halford On The Dry Fly

[Wildfisher]

A publisher sent me a bunch of books to review this week (not asked for) and while, on the face of it, that may seem a great way to  get new  reading material for free, it can, honestly,  end up being a bit of a chore.

I am currently reading "Halford On The Dry Fly" part of an American fly fishing classic series – or rather a series built on excerpted fly fishing classics. Not a bad idea I suppose as it gives the reader the essence of works that may no longer be available.

I had never read Halford before and to be frank, I'm finding it a bit hard going.

This idealized extract really made me laugh – it's like something from another world – most certainly one I do not recognize.

A typical fish to cast for is a trout feeding under the left-hand bank of the river (looking up-stream), thus giving the angler a right-handed throw, with the rod over the water. The stream should be slow and steady, the wind blowing very slightly; in fact, only sufficient to make a slight ripple on the surface, and in direction towards that bank. There should be a fair amount of fly hatching, but not too much. The fish should be lying near the top of the water taking every natural fly coming over him. The sun should be in the fishermans face, and not too bright. The fisherman should, of course, be on the same bank as the fish, and should be able to get within a reasonable distance, so as to cast for him with a comparatively short line

The reality here on the Don is more likely to read  something like this :

A typical fish to cast for is any  trout feeding anywhere should you be lucky enough to spot one. The fish will be lying in a  sheltered eddy close to Sir Peregrine Toss-Worthy's  opposite exclusive bank from which even song birds are banned. Between you and the fish the stream will, most likely,  be a roaring torrent,  but if you are a good enough caster, and the wind drops momentarily at exactly the right moment,  you should manage a drag free drift for at least 10 nanoseconds. The wind will be blowing furiously from which ever point of the compass you are facing and will be  sufficient to  tear sheets of  water from the surface, in the  direction of your face. There may well be a fair amount of fly hatching, but that will make no odds as the fish will be  lying near the bottom of the river gorging on the descendants of the baggie minnins dumped by bus-loads of Fife miners on  1970s poaching trips. No  matter which direction you are facing the sun will produce a glare on the water that makes it impossible to see your fly; don’t worry about that as f**k-all will rising to it anyway. The fisherman should, of course, ideally be on the same bank as the fish, but won't be (see note above on Sir Peregrine) and should be able to get within a reasonable distance, so as to cast for him with a comparatively short line. As we say in Aberdeenshire – aye right-oh  min!