The Literary Fly Fisher

Thomas Frederic Salter was a London hatmaker. He fished as a child with his father and remained a devoted angler as an adult. Apparently, his health prevented him from fishing regularly in his later years. He therefore turned his attention toward writing several books having to do with fishing, each of which went through several editions. The first was The Angler’s Guide, or Complete London Angler in the Thames, Lea, and other Waters twenty miles round London, which was published in 1814.  Interestingly, he dedicated it to “Her Royal Highness the Duchess of York,” whom, he says, “occasionally enjoys the amusement of Angling” (vii). At the time, the duchess was the beloved Princess Frederica Charlotte of Prussia. An independent woman, she lived separately from her husband, apparently preferring the company of her many pets and other animals.

In his guide, Salter speaks highly of fly fishing, describing it as “gentlemanly and pleasant,” if also “difficult to learn” (82-83). In all, he dedicates five chapters of the book to the practice. Had I been Salter’s editor, I might have pointed it out that the sport must also be “ladylike” (or something to that effect), since the Duchess, so highly praised in Salter’s, dedication, was an angler.

Illustration of a trout, from page 95 of Salter’s Guide.

Interestingly, Salter also includes a poem by a “Mr. Cracknell,” entitled “The Female Angler” (103). Two stanzas follow.

From town I walk’d to take the air,

Shun smoke and noise of coaches;

I saw a lovely damsel fair,

Angling for Dace and Roaches.

Close by a brook, with line and hook,

Which curiously was baited,

Attentively the maid did look,

While for a bite she waited.

Looking back as readers, and not editors, we should commend Salter for acknowledging so clearly that field sports are not only or best practiced by men. While many authors of Salter’s time and before paid homage to the legendary Juliana Berners, O.S.B., supposed author of the 15th century Treatyse of fysshynge wyth an Angle , few of them seemed to consider that there may have been many other figures like her. Admittedly, there seems to be a hint of romance in the poem Slater includes in his book; there is an implication that the “female angler” shares in the simple purity of nature or the rural area free from “smoke and noise.”

Yet, Salter tells us that “The Female Angler” was inspired by a very real friend of Cracknell’s. Also, as its subtitle indicates, Salter’s book focuses upon fishing in urban and suburban London (in later editions, the subtitle changes).  Thus, he does not see to see the divide between nature and culture as being so bold as many others did and do. This makes him a rare figure in his time — one worth reading. While the Guide is mostly a technical manual and guidebook to certain fishing locations, there is, as I have indicated here, some material that truly stands out.

I leave you with a stanza from another poem, “The Angler’s Morning Walk,” apparently written by Salter himself (x).

From sweet repose I early rose

To fish, and take the air;

I look’d around, saw good abound,

Then why should Man despair.

As in marriage, so in fishing; one’s choice is made by accident. One opens the door of a room; and there, for better or for worse, the lady sits. One sees a river from a train, a car, one halts to stretch one’s legs and is lost.

John Inglis Hall, Fishing a Highland Stream; a Love Affair with a River (Putnam and Co, 1960).

In Fishing a Highland Stream, John Inglis Hall writes of his love affair with the River Truim, a tributary of Scotland’s famous River Spey. If you have traveled between Perth and Inverness, you have probably seen this river. However, when Hall first began to fish the Truim in the 1940’s, its course was less widely known by the public.

My own home waters remain more remote. But like Hall, I first came to them accidentally. My family chose to build a cabin on the banks of what is now my favorite trout lake and just over the ridge from my favorite river. Naturally, I grew familiar with these waters over time, and I have come to love them as much as Hall loved the River Truim.

I visited these waters last weekend, and I look forward to doing so again in a few days. Included here are a few pictures, which will explain my love.

When I was looking through The Flyfish Journal that arrived in the mail last week, I came across a pleasant surprise. As I neared the end of the magazine, thinking how I really needed to be in bed, I came across a piece written by a friend, Mike Sepelak. The next day, I realized there were two more pieces by him in the same issue.

Until recently, Mike and I were nearly neighbors (by semi-rural/small town standards, at least). We have fly fished together quite a bit, in saltwater, warmwater, and coldwater. All along, I have followed his writing. You can, too, by looking at his website, Mike’s Gone Fishin’ … Again. There, you will find some great essays. I know Mike has put a lot of work into them, but I also know that choice words come easier to him than they do to many.

It’s very gratifying to see Mike’s writing in print. I have urged him to put together a collection of essays for publication as a book someday, and I continue to hope he does so. Read an essay such as “Shattered,” and  you will understand why. Few people can write something so emotional, yet so well crafted at the same time.

Meanwhile, pick up Volume Five, Issue Three of The Flyfish Journal. It’s a great publication, and it’s all the better with Mike’s work in it.