Learning to Fly

A while back, after a very long time married, I found myself single. While that sucked, it was hard to feel bad about having more time to fish, and a to-do list with little more than ‘whatever the hell I feel like’ on it. Still, as much as the water was calling, loneliness apparently shortens your lifespan and that definitely cuts into fishing time. So it was time to put myself back out there and recognise the value of companionship in sharing life’s adventures.

For anyone else out there who hasn’t dated in the last 35 years, I’m here to tell you that things have changed and even subtly asking someone out, particularly at work, can quickly lead to a closed door meeting in HR. Friends suggested a dating app was less fraught and, after a lot of pressure, I took the plunge and started the nearly impossible process of writing my sales pitch.

Hmmmm. I’m 60, bald, and my only interests, both work and play, are photography and fly fishing. Apparently though, putting anything to do with fishing on these sites is instantly ignored, and I even read one profile that said ‘I don’t care how big your fish is’. Point taken, I put that I was a photographer and ‘outdoorsy’ and even, as a subtle hint, included one photo of myself leaning against a 4×4 in waders and wading jacket with a couple of rods nearby. How could they resist?

Long story short, the algorithmic overseers made some matches and after a few chats and coffee dates, I met an otherwise perfect woman that doesn’t fish, but also didn’t flee the moment I mentioned it. She even suggested she would love to learn to fly fish as much as I might love to learn mindfulness and yoga. Mindfulness, if you don’t know, starts with someone telling you how, when and where to breathe, in a voice so calm, so smooth and so relaxed it ends up being annoying. And yoga is someone very sweetly instructing you to bend in ways that are equally painful and impossible when you’re my age.

On a mission, I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, wondered the best way to teach fly fishing and hoped I didn’t end up vegan.

OUT-SOURCING

Things went well, so with an aching body and mind now, ummm, more ‘nessed’, I deleted my profile and got on with the job of turning a partner into a fishing partner.

Of course, I have taught more than a few people how to fly fish, but this time seemed a bit more important. I’ve also witnessed enough professional casting instructors and guides in action to know that I am probably not — thanks to being self-taught in the stone age — the best option. With that in mind, I booked Lynn into a women’s fly fishing weekend hosted by April Vokey, and guides Angus Reynolds and Josh Mulders from Haul Fly Fishing, at the very beautiful Nimbo Fork Lodge on the Tumut River.

April is one of our sport’s best known guides and influencers with a world of knowledge on all things fly fishing. Her podcast, Anchored, should definitely be on your subscribe-this-instant list.

The course started in the very comfortable lounge area of the lodge with introductions over coffee. April’s first question to the guests, ‘Why are you here?’ brought a range of answers from escaping new baby to seeking solo adventure, though most of the women seemed to have found fly fishing through their partners and were keen to spend more time together on the water. There was a big, ice-breaking laugh when inseparable friends, Naomi and Brianna replied, ‘We want to be better than our husbands.’

Gear was then passed around and the workings of rods, reels and lines explained in detail. I’ll admit I knew fear when Josh told all the women how much the good gear costs, and though I suppose it no longer matters, I was happy my ex-wife didn’t hear it. Next, due to rain, the main event of the day, casting instruction, was moved from the lodge to a large undercover basketball court in town. Everyone, if they didn’t bring their own, was given a rod, reel and line and encouraged to set it up themselves.

Watching April teach fly fishing, particularly casting, is a masterclass in blending patience and humour with an absolute and very infectious enthusiasm that is rare in life. Within an hour, all the women in the group were throwing tidy 30–40 foot casts like they had been practising for weeks.

Angus and Josh were also weaving through the group giving individual attention as needed. The instruction is basic, yet holistic and takes nothing for granted and is far more entertaining than what I do, and definitely more effective.

At lunch, I asked Lynn what she thought of April, and she said: ‘I loved the way April explained fly fishing from a beginner’s perspective, for example how to look cool and like you know what you are doing, while avoiding rookie giveaways. She was very inspiring.’

After lunch, we moved to a wide, shallow bend on the river where Angus discussed some of the basics of wading in the swift current, and then explained some of the mechanics of fishing in moving water. April then covered all the main knots and everyone got to tie on their own fly and finally have a cast on the river. The rain had increased to biblical, though no one, except the fish, seemed to care. Lynn seemed to be having a great time.

With the rain having moved on, the second day of the course started at a ramp near the Blowering dam, where the guides and three drift boats were waiting for the newly minted fly anglers. The students formed pairs and were assigned a boat, but swapped around a few times in the day to keep things interesting. It was a beautiful day to drift.

At the end of the day, I waited at the take-out point with a few of the other partners. As the boats approached I could see big smiles on all the faces, and everyone, guides included, looked tired but very happy. Lynn had caught three rainbow trout and was already way better at fly fishing than I will ever be at yoga.

My main observation from the sidelines of the weekend were that the guides are good at teaching beginners to fly fish. They have to be, because despite knowing virtually nothing, a lot of new clients, having stumped up not inconsiderable amounts of cash for a day’s fishing, expect, or even demand, to catch fish. The equation is simple — if clients don’t catch fish, guides don’t eat.

I would also add, and it is wonderful to see, that the group dynamic amongst the women was tight, non-competitive and very supportive. They were laughing a lot. It’s a great environment for learning.

Lynn summed up her reflections of the weekend with: ‘It was magical — the guides did the hard work to enable the whole experience to be seamless — a warm, sunny and still day helped. The gentle motion of the boat as it was steered downstream, following the fly on the current, was mesmerising and the guides helped me to have my line and fly ready in the right spots. And the thrilling surprise of catching three fish was the icing on the cake.’

On the drive home, Lynn, after reminding me how much fun yoga is, made it quite clear she was ready to be my new fishing partner. My heart sang, but inside, deep inside, I couldn’t help but wonder if it would be possible to spend so much time fishing that there wasn’t enough left for yoga. I’ll let you know.

IN-SOURCING

In for a penny, in for lots of pounds. We procured some women’s waders, wading boots and a vest from Simms so she would be well equipped on the water, and headed for a couple of my favourite small streams in Kosciuszko National Park.

I like taking beginners to a small stream because it tightens the learning curve. Short casts and quick, simple drifts to (generally) more willing and less selective trout makes it easier to hook the newbie for life. I also think the lighter 2- and 3-weight rods are more intimate and engaging. It’s also a beautiful place to share fish or no fish.

For this first outing I went into guide mode and didn’t fish myself, focusing on Lynn enjoying the day. This, in my experience is way better than trying to fish and teach at the same time, as the student ends up feeling like they’re holding you back.

After a quick discussion about where the trout might be in the stream and a demonstration of the short, flicky casts I use to get them, I let her go while staying close enough to add helpful comments, but giving her enough space to figure out things herself.

That said, as a guide I’m not doing as well as April, Angus or Josh, and Lynn only caught one very small trout. But it was one of the best days I’ve had on the water in a long, long time and I will assume, because she fed me after, that Lynn is happy too. Now we’re both hooked.