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Thanks for the Advice!

Our April 2002 contribution from Jayne Denton

Let me set a scene, a dry overcast late summer day with a nice breeze just rippling the surface of the pond, I'm stripping my Cat's Whisker briskly through the water always with the anticipation of a productive tug.

Fishing in my opinion, has a far deeper meaning than trying to catch fish with a piece of feather and lurex, observing how the light changes on the water or riverbank, watching the family of water voles, dippers and if I'm really lucky having a baby otter chirruping to me as he skulks under the riverbank at my feet. To get away from all the stresses that I have to face daily in my job, wonderful to feel the solitude and sense of poetry as the water moves constantly. Bet you can relate to this idyllic scenario!

Out the corner of my eye I can see him strolling purposefully towards me, a stocky older gentleman wearing proudly his array of badges on his fly vest and hat, intermingled with a few flies. He has been watching me quite intently since my arrival at this smallish, well stocked fishery. Not again I think!

I am under no illusions that in no way do I compare favourably with the best casters in the world; my line doesn't always land in a perfect straight line and turn over with the fly plipping silently in the water, more like a bolt of lightning followed by a close clap of thunder. "You break your wrist when you cast you know," the voice booms in a strong accent as he stomps towards me, "Here, let me show you," as he takes the rod out of my hands. Hello might have been more of a pleasantry. He proceeds to cast my rod and line quite expertly after pulling more line off my reel with his chubby little fingers. "There you are, that's how you should be doing it". Happy with himself he potters back round to his spot, stopping to talk to a crony on the way, probably telling him what a good deed he has done, by helping me to understand the rudiments of casting.

A 12lb 3oz rainbow taken from Narborough Trout Fishery

Has he? How would you feel? Three options spring to mind 1) resort to violence, 2) resort to telling him to go away with a few choice words or 3) smile sweetly and nod gratefully. Although not a violent person by nature, number 1 could easily have been been my choice. However number 3 won hands down. Given the number of times I've had to do it, I'm now very expert at it. One man even took my fly box off the bonnet of the car and changed my salmon fly as I spoke to my husband. There, I've just given the game away! You see, I'm stereo typed, by being big, blond and quite feminine. I must have "help me I'm vulnerable!" written all across my lovely face. Please do not get me wrong, these men are a small minority and most are very genuine and treat me as one of the lads, offering help and advice as they would any angler. But, although I get used to the strange looks, what I cannot get used to is being talked down to or rudeness.

Unfortunately I have never met a fellow lady angler whilst trout or salmon fishing, I don't understand why: surely they don't think it's a male dominant thing? I suppose working within a male majority helps to relate to some Neanderthal ways, my friends and work colleagues although fascinated by the topic think I must be quite eccentric. Fortunately my husband has the passion as much as me, and we are very compatible in that we have a constant fishing companion to compare tales of the ones that got away over a wee dram.

My theory is that men are wary that we can and obviously have better catch returns. Perhaps it's a hunter's privilege to supply the family with supper. A manly pride to help and mean well. Food for thought? This article was meant to be controversial, next time lads take your wife, partner, daughter, mother, granny with you, let them get hooked and double your pleasure. Don't just escape for a few hours away from the female of the species, certainly do not give unsolicited advice to woman anglers if they have not asked for it. However, pass the time of day as you would with any angler male or female, it is not a competition. It's about enjoying yourself no matter how good or bad you actually feel you are, and if a fish is caught, well‘..

Jayne Denton has worked for the East Midlands Ambulance Service, as a Leading Ambulance Paramedic for the last 15 years. She and her husband, Carl, and 12 year old son live in Sleaford, Lincolnshire. Jayne's father used to take her fishing on the river Clyde when she was a teenager. Since meeting Carl, she has renewed her interest in fishing and trying to tie a few flies. She and Carl have just started to fish for salmon. So far Carl is the only victor, but Jayne is sure when she does catch one it will be fresher and bigger!