Casting about

FOR some time now it has been in the back of my mind that taking up fishing would be a pleasant way to relax, kick back, and take things easy if spared to enjoy the Autumn years.

However, the prospect of spending an afternoon watching a float on a millpond filled me with as much eager anticipation as being given a season ticket to watch Sunderland. I mean, why would you do that to yourself?

I had flirted with fishing in the past. As a youth I went mackerel fishing with an old boy called Sam off the Norfolk coast. Like his father before him, he had refused to learn to swim. Instead they drank copious amounts of rum.

Sam tried to explain to me that in the event of capsizing it was a much better proposition to trust to the grog, than flounder around in the freezing North Sea.

Then there was the time I was invited to go lure fishing on a lake somewhere in North America. The technique here was to drag a small metal fish through the water that had bright spinning hooks attached to it.

These lures were nearly as irresistible to the fish as the chilled beers were to the fishermen, who were constantly ensuring there was always enough room in the coolers for the fish.

A recurring theme seemed to be establishing itself.

With so much of a mysterious haze surrounding the sport, I clearly needed more information. I watched TV fishing 'celebs' catch everything from tiddlers to Tarpon. They all had enough gadgets to make James Bond feel inferior; but I still had no idea of where to make a start.

That was until I chanced upon Jim McKean. Jim is a professional fly-fishing instructor, and in a last desperate attempt to find out if fishing was for me, I met up with Jim at the Maran Lakes at Long Marston. What a good decision. Jim's calm and knowledgeable approach soon unravelled the basics and guided me through all the pros and cons.

Because of my previous experiences, and all that I had learned so far, I felt I should get straight to the heart of the matter with my first carefully crafted question to Jim, which was, "Do you need to drink malt whiskey to be an expert fly-fisherman?"

"It helps," purred Jim in his soft Scottish brogue. "Especially single malts."

I was starting to warm to the man, and with trust established between master and pupil we headed to a tranquil lake where the instruction began.

You need a certain amount of co-ordination to get the hang of casting.

What you are trying to do is develop a technique that will allow you to place the fly just where you want it on the water.

Then you 'retrieve' the fly as Jim put it with short tugs on the line. You can imagine a bug skimming along on the water; it's that kind of effect you are trying to mimic to interest the fish enough to bite.

Jim also kindly referred to some of my earlier casts as "knitting" when the line ended in a bundle that looked like a cat had taken it, instead of a fish. I realised he was not the Vicar of Follifoot, however, when I nearly took his eye out with another enthusiastic attempt at running before I could walk. (If you decide to have a go take Jim's advice and always wear eye protection.)

To his relief as much as mine my casting began to improve, and it soon started to dawn on me that fly-fishing was indeed fascinating.

In fact I can now see how people can become obsessed with the sport, and it is far from being as monotonous as I had earlier feared.

In many ways you could liken it to a stalked hunt. You need to know about what the fish want to eat and when. You need to understand that they can see you, and you have to make all sorts of tactical decisions about how to get the fly in the right place at the right time. It was not relaxing, it was a challenge, and I loved it.

The final piece of the jigsaw when aspiring to be a fisherman is the ability to exaggerate. I gave up exaggerating in 1928, but to prove I am getting the hang of tall tales, I can assure you I caught the fish and not Jim with virtually his first cast after all my attempts failed! I think I'm finally catching on...

Jim McKean can be contacted on York 341168 or via his website at www.tryfortrout.co.uk. Maran Lakes can be contacted on York 738383.

Jon is keen to try other country pursuits. Ring him on 01904 653051

Updated: 16:11 Friday, October 10, 2003