Take a Youngster fishing

 
Idly leafing through some back copies of fly fishing magazines I had one of those moments of clarity: I hatched a plan to take a younger member of the family fly fishing, what was there to loose?, I would encourage someone new to have a go at our wonderful sport, plus have myself some ‘me’ time on the water, and best of all I would earn some brownie points with mission control. My eldest grand- daughter fitted the bill, the poor girl doesn’t get much opportunity to have time in the fresh air, was at a loose end in the summer holidays, a bit anxious about starting college after the hols, and unlike most of the others she always shows some interest in the fish I’ve caught and even flies I’ve tied. She jumped at the idea of having a trip out with her Grandpa when I phoned.

On the appointed day we headed for a small stillwater fishery where there are two lakes (ponds really, being man-made) plus two other stretches for catch n’ release. The top lake, higher in the gentle valley, is quite narrow, no long casts necessary to get to the other side, clear as crystal, and therefore one where the novice not only can see his/her quarry but can usually reach them too. Having signed in and paid up this is where we headed. I set Bean up with everything from rod and reel to a fly and polaroid glasses and went through basic instructions and demonstrations until she could get a couple of rod lengths of line out without too much effort, and then I started to set up an outfit for myself. I fully expected Bean to revert to form before too long and become totally engrossed and pre-occupied with her mobile ‘phone: texting, Facebook, selfies, t’interweb, and whatever else rules their teen years nowadays. How wrong I was!. How I had underestimated her enthusiasm for this new thing! How soon it dawned on me that the best laid plans …

“Grandpa, did you see that cast?

“Grandpa, look there’s a trout coming”

”Grandpa, am I pulling the fly right ?”

“Grandpa, the line’s funny around the reel thingy”

“Grandpa, it’s all tangled up, it wasn’t me”

“Grandpa, the hook thing isn’t there, can I have another, please?”

“Grandpa, it’s wrapped around the end again”

I played the part of the exemplary ghillie and all-round assistant, helping continuously, each time I went back to my rod it was “Grandpa, …” again, and again. I’m a reasonably patient man, but …

I had an idea, “Bean, I’m just going to move further along and see if I can catch one over there. You’re doing very well now, and should be able to manage by yourself for a bit, but I will help if you do get stuck”.

“Okay Grandpa” she replied happily.

I moved along the bank some fifty yards or so, spotted a fish and was preparing to cast, then

“Grandpa, it’s wrapped the line around the end again”

“Try gently wiggling the tip in circles and see if that does it” I replied.

“No, it’s worse. Don’t worry, I’ll come over to you” said Bean, and started along the bank in my direction, rod tip festooned with some coils of line, but a few yards of line and the cast still in the water being towed along. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted a bow-wave following her and as she arrived by my side the trout smashed the fly and hooked itself! Fortunately it wasn’t a monster and despite the taut, jerking fly line I was soon able to sort out the wraps and hand the rod back for Bean to play the fish under instruction; before long it was netted, dispatched, unhooked and handed over so she could carefully place her prize in the bass bag. One very happy Bean!

Enthusiastically and probably over-excitedly Bean tried to cast for another, but had stripped more line than she could manage off the reel and inevitably the huge tailing loop collapsed, the cast crash-landing, the fly appearing to have snagged the fly line, and coils of line again looped around the rod. We uncoiled the line off the rod and I suggested she recover some of the line before trying another cast. I moved back towards my spot grimly determined to at least have a cast or two, the sound of her reel ratchet singing as she wound in loose line, then:

“Grandpa, it’s stuck. It’s jerking! Omigod it’s another fish!”

A bigger trout had gobbled the static fly, only about a rod length out from the bank! I coached as she coaxed her second fish to the net, a beautiful Rainbow which joined its cousin in the bag. Our two- fish ticket had been fulfilled, I began to think about buying another ticket, but didn’t have to ponder for long,

“Grandpa, would you like me to help you to catch one?” the Bean said, sweetly, “you don’t look like you’re enjoying yourself much”.

“No, Bean” I replied “I’ve just remembered there’s a few things I promised Grandma I would do, we’ll have to stop now”

“Okay” she replied “this was really fun, when are we going again?”

“Er, … um,  … we’ll have to see”.