Experts
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- Published on Tuesday, 02 October 2007 09:56
- Written by Downdie Boab
The season is only a couple of weeks old and I've already been pestered by a plague of experts. Is “plague” the collective noun for a number of experts? But I've been ready for them – straight into the nuclear option with no four minute warning.
Experts, you have been warned.
There are, in my experience, three types of “expert”. Firstly there's the “in your face” disciplinary type who charges straight in to explain your faults. Heaven knows I don't mind a bit of discipline particularly if it involves suspenders and stilettos, but these are in short supply at the water-side and more's the pity. Secondly there's the psychological type who tries to empathise with you and lead you into the paths of righteousness, something I've not experienced since my Sunday School days. Thirdly, and possibly not finally if you know any other types, there is the “by example” type who tries to reform you by illustrating his personal perfection, in other words a Holy Willie. Honest, I'm not coming over all religious but why do “experts” compare well with Rechabites or Billy Graham?
Let's have some examples.
I was casting what I felt was a decent line when I heard, “Aw naw, naw, naw, naw, you didna believe aw that marketing hype and advertising puff and go an' buy wan o' thae useless rods”. When I managed to control my heartbeat I reflected that the rod in question had cost me over four hundred pounds just at the start of the season and had been recommended to me by another “expert” during the close season. “Whit's wrang wi' it?”, I asked. “Well ye see, the action's aw wrang fur this loch whaur ye need tae haunle a heavier line”. I had been told that I should fish a lighter line that would give greater sensitivity and superior fish handling. Of course my casting went to pieces (again), I lost a dozen flies, cast my hat into the loch and it took me two weeks to recover from the effects of alcohol poisoning.
The psychological type is an insidious swine who inveigles his way into your soul and destroys your fishing enjoyment from the inside – a bit like woodworm. “Ay, that's a nice lookin' Connemara Black, an' weel tied tae”. Do you see what I mean – praise and compliments – but watch out for the soul destroying comment. “Tell me, dae ye always use dyed Guinea Fowl in place o' Blue Jay?” And do you know why I use dyed Guinea Fowl? Because another, type one, “expert” at the fly tying classes told me that my uselessness in tying in Blue Jay feathers would lead to a world shortage of jays and I should use dyed Guinea Fowl because I could buy a bag of feathers for a pound, it wouldn't matter how many I wasted and the troot couldn't tell the difference, if I should ever managed to rise one. I've never tied, or tied on, a Connemara Black since then, or an Invicta, or a Bumble – my fishing life is ruined.
Finally, the “by example” type, possibly the most expensive of all. Now this is a man who never pays for his tackle – he's on commission from a dealer. Out of nowhere he'll turn up at your side with a full set of brand new equipment. “Here, hiv a cast wi' this”. And you have a cast and see the flies heading to the horizon. “Ay, it's O.K., try again”. And suddenly your into the backing. “Ay, nice tackle, isn't it?” Of course it's nice, it's wonderful, it makes you feel like a new fisher. “Where did ye get that?” “Aw, jist drap in tae (name your tackle dealer) an' mention ma name, ye'll get a guid deal” (you'll get screwed). The credit card company wrote to me the other day to point out that I had exceeded my, already generous, limit and could they have immediate payment of the full debt.
Finally, at last, and after years of trying I know how to handle “experts”. On the loch we have “Shithead Wullie”, my nuclear option. Now Wullie is the expert's “expert”, he knows everything about everything and speaks at least three languages including gibberish, shite and advanced shite. Never let Wullie near a donkey unless you want to see the animal pulling itself around on its forelegs. A few days ago he tried to explain to me his theory of troot fishing in parallel universes and was disappointed at my lack of understanding of a fairly simple concept. Coincidentally and minutes later an “expert” arrived. I innocently mentioned that Wullie was equally expert on the same subject and this is a flee that even the fussiest expert will rise to. I wonder what the psychoanalysts will make of him when he turns up at their clinic?
Downdie Boab,philosopher, can sometimes be spotted looking-on in wonder on the banks of Hillend Loch and a few other central belt fisheries