Edited by Clive Hilton, Monday, 29 Mar 2010, 10:37
I took my son and his friend fly fishing at the weekend. My son is a veteran of three previous outings, me similarly, and young Jim had never done any fly fishing before. My first introduction to fly fishing was as part of a 'dads and sons learn to fly fish day out' organised by my son's school. It was a wonderful day, the height of summer, glorious weather and the boys and the dads were segregated so that there could be no competitive dad syndrome at work. While the boys were being given their instruction, us dads were being coached in the finer arts of casting. Lots of casting. And yet more casting. And a bit more. And all this in a field quite some way off any sign of water. While we were becoming Olympic casters I could see the boys fishing and, more importantly, catching fish.
The instructor was extremely knowledgeable and gave us the full benefit of his experience, including lots of technical background knowledge about the difference between line weights, line types, rod flex characteristics, the effects of humidity, the technical niceties that make a shooting head so much better than a weightforward fast taper, and god knows what else. We were even given a grounding in the life cycle of some of the insects that the trout might be feeding on. At the end of four hours I felt confident that I had I been about to appear on Mastermind then I'd be completely at home in my chosen subject of 'Everything there is to know about the theory of fly casting as practised in a field but not actually on water or anywhere near a trout'. Mind you, I don't remember much of it now.
Four hours later, we were deemed to be ready to actually start fishing, by which time we were well into the peak heat of a hot summer's day and by then all the trout had gone off for a snooze. It was only as the temperatures began to cool in the early evening that the fish began to show any interest again. So, while the dads had been flailing about in a field, the boys - who'd had a much shorter training period - had been having fun catching fish. Unlike the dads. Some eight hours after we'd started our training I caught my first trout, but just as the fishes interest in feeding began to awaken, it was time to go home.
Anyway, I was determined that Jim would not have to suffer the same frustration, so I set him up on a lawn next to the lake and we spent no more than fifteen minutes perfecting a basic cast technique that saw him safely, successfully and repeatedly cast a fly about forty feet (more than adequate for the water we were on). I declared him ready and we headed for the lake. His first cast shot out straight and true. He straightened his line like a pro and promptly hooked straight into his first trout. Total time - five seconds, max. A few minutes later, a gleaming 2lb trout lay in the landing next.
Jim's face was a picture, he was hopping up and down with excitment. My son soon hooked into his first fish and some time later I too joined the club. The rest of the day saw regular action for the two boys, who between them landed a dozen fish before they were reluctantly dragged off the water to go home in the gathering dusk. They were still buzzing a day later and there could be no doubt that they'd had a fabulous day.
It set me thinking about learning. I couldn't help concluding that my highly knowledgeable instructor - good intentions aside - had missed the whole point of the day. I suppose he felt that as adults we would benefit by being given a much more intensive training, backed up by lots of theory before we would be ready; we'd be given added value, I suppose. In contrast, the boys' trainer thought that the boys wouldn't need the theory and so the focus was on perfecting technique, then they would be ready. My own view with Jim was that all was needed was to just give enough instruction to get on with things in safety and with confidence, make a start and the rest would follow. And it did.
Sometimes, surface learning is all that is required. If Jim takes to fly fishing - as my son has - he's got the rest of his life to learn about the arcana.
What you can learn from fishing in a field
I took my son and his friend fly fishing at the weekend. My son is a veteran of three previous outings, me similarly, and young Jim had never done any fly fishing before. My first introduction to fly fishing was as part of a 'dads and sons learn to fly fish day out' organised by my son's school. It was a wonderful day, the height of summer, glorious weather and the boys and the dads were segregated so that there could be no competitive dad syndrome at work. While the boys were being given their instruction, us dads were being coached in the finer arts of casting. Lots of casting. And yet more casting. And a bit more. And all this in a field quite some way off any sign of water. While we were becoming Olympic casters I could see the boys fishing and, more importantly, catching fish.
The instructor was extremely knowledgeable and gave us the full benefit of his experience, including lots of technical background knowledge about the difference between line weights, line types, rod flex characteristics, the effects of humidity, the technical niceties that make a shooting head so much better than a weightforward fast taper, and god knows what else. We were even given a grounding in the life cycle of some of the insects that the trout might be feeding on. At the end of four hours I felt confident that I had I been about to appear on Mastermind then I'd be completely at home in my chosen subject of 'Everything there is to know about the theory of fly casting as practised in a field but not actually on water or anywhere near a trout'. Mind you, I don't remember much of it now.
Four hours later, we were deemed to be ready to actually start fishing, by which time we were well into the peak heat of a hot summer's day and by then all the trout had gone off for a snooze. It was only as the temperatures began to cool in the early evening that the fish began to show any interest again. So, while the dads had been flailing about in a field, the boys - who'd had a much shorter training period - had been having fun catching fish. Unlike the dads. Some eight hours after we'd started our training I caught my first trout, but just as the fishes interest in feeding began to awaken, it was time to go home.
Anyway, I was determined that Jim would not have to suffer the same frustration, so I set him up on a lawn next to the lake and we spent no more than fifteen minutes perfecting a basic cast technique that saw him safely, successfully and repeatedly cast a fly about forty feet (more than adequate for the water we were on). I declared him ready and we headed for the lake. His first cast shot out straight and true. He straightened his line like a pro and promptly hooked straight into his first trout. Total time - five seconds, max. A few minutes later, a gleaming 2lb trout lay in the landing next.
Jim's face was a picture, he was hopping up and down with excitment. My son soon hooked into his first fish and some time later I too joined the club. The rest of the day saw regular action for the two boys, who between them landed a dozen fish before they were reluctantly dragged off the water to go home in the gathering dusk. They were still buzzing a day later and there could be no doubt that they'd had a fabulous day.
It set me thinking about learning. I couldn't help concluding that my highly knowledgeable instructor - good intentions aside - had missed the whole point of the day. I suppose he felt that as adults we would benefit by being given a much more intensive training, backed up by lots of theory before we would be ready; we'd be given added value, I suppose. In contrast, the boys' trainer thought that the boys wouldn't need the theory and so the focus was on perfecting technique, then they would be ready. My own view with Jim was that all was needed was to just give enough instruction to get on with things in safety and with confidence, make a start and the rest would follow. And it did.
Sometimes, surface learning is all that is required. If Jim takes to fly fishing - as my son has - he's got the rest of his life to learn about the arcana.